Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

New York, July 20, 20XX

*Thwip*

The strange sound echoed throughout the warehouse. One of the Kingpin’s little operations. Spider-Man looked around, wrapping up the last of Kingpin’s thugs and leaving them hanging upside down.

“Y’know, there’s probably easier ways to make a living than working for Fisk, fellas. I mean he’s basically paying you to get beat up by me, and I guess Daredevil too, every now and then.” Spider-Man joked as he began scanning the warehouse.

“Let’s see here… Oh, what do we have over here?” Spider-Man asked no one in particular. Various barrels containing illegal substances used in the production of drugs were found in the back of a van that Spidey was inspecting. He pulled out an old burner phone he used specifically for patrolling the city. Peter knew enough about cybersecurity to avoid getting hacked or have anything get traced back to him, so the burner phone was mainly used to contact the police for cleaning up Spider-Man’s messes. There was a quick ring, before the call was answered.

“Hello?” Came a tired, exasperated female voice on the other end.

“Guess who!” Spider-Man spoke into the phone, earning an audible grunt from the woman on the other end.

“Ugh, seriously?” The woman replied.

“C’mon Yuri, is that how you speak to the best young rookie on the scene? Y’know, Spider-Cop.” He quipped back, “I just apprehend a group of Fisk’s thugs. They’re by the docks. I’ve got them all out cold. Send some guy to pick them up, okay, bye!” Spider-Man excitedly yelled through the phone, much to the other woman’s annoyance, who simply grumbled in response before hanging up.

“I think she’s starting to like me.” Spider-Man said, smiling to himself contentedly before web-zipping out from the warehouse’s skylight. He expertly twisted and spun his body, gliding through the air as he swung from web to web, occasionally wall running before thrusting himself off the walls with inhuman strength, continuing to swing towards his apartment located in Midtown, Manhattan.

“Ah… home, sweet home.” Peter said as he crawled through his apartment window. It was located on the fourth floor and it was also in the evening, so he wasn’t too worried about anyone catching him enter the building. Peter stretched his back and shoulders, a small popping noise echoed the small living room as he slipped off his mask. He plopped down onto the couch as he looked over the boxes of his yet to be unpacked belongings. Peter just grunted, not in the mood to deal with the mundane.

“That’s a problem for tomorrow’s me.” Peter joked self-deprecatingly, before looking over what was on top of the coffee table. The new suit he had been working on. Peter’s current suit was still fine, if a bit worn out, but he’s been using it for the past two years, he wanted something new.

He’d be starting university soon, and thanks to Peter’s good grades, was able to attain a scholarship to Empire State University. And before that happens, he wants his new suit ready for the new school year.

The new suit kept the classic red and blue colour scheme, with eye lenses that adjust to his eye patterns. The fabric was incredibly durable, practically bulletproof. It was made of the same material used by the Fantastic 4. It was a gift from Johnny Storm, they had first met during an uprising by the Mole Man. His massive drill shook the whole of Manhattan as it burst through the middle of Times Square. The two of them were there when it happened, they quickly teamed-up and made short work of the Mole Man and his little army. The two quickly became friends after that, and Johnny gave it to him because Peter kept complaining about how his suit would always tear and he’d have to spend time fixing it.

 The red, webbed fabric extended below his shoulder, making a triangle as it connected towards the chest. From there, it extended down to his abdomen in the shape of a diamond. On his hand down to just above his wrist was a red glove, covered in the same webbing as his mask and chest, forming a triangular shape that wrapped around the outside of his forearm. With two small gadgets wrapped around his inner wrists; his web-shooters. Lower down the body, the suit sported knee pads in a darker shade of blue than the rest of his suit. He also wore a pair red and white Jordan 1’s (also modified with the unstable molecules), while on his back was a large red spider that looked somewhat menacing.

The suit was practically completed at this point, right now, Peter was more focused on the spider gadgets he had been experimenting with. From the electric webs that would stun enemies, impact webs that would launch people 10 feet away from its force, web bombs that would be used on large groups of foes, and the web trip mine that can be remotely activated, snagging people or items caught by its infra-red beam. But the thing Peter was most proud of was the personal AI he had installed. Sure, it wasn’t as advanced as anything you’d see from Tony Stark or Reed Richards, but Peter was proud of it nonetheless, especially since he planned on majoring in chemistry. His adeptness in maths, physics, engineering and coding were helpful, but chemistry holds special memories of his Uncle Ben. Peter would reminisce about the times Uncle Ben would help him prepare for his school science fairs every time he made new web fluid, these small joys are what lead Peter to peruse this path. Regardless, the AI itself was quite useful, it could follow orders, and do simple tasks, as well as monitor his vitals. It couldn’t talk, only respond in cute little beeps, and Peter affectionately named it ‘Sp//der’.

After completing the suit and his new ‘toys’, Peter was quick to try it on, admiring himself in the mirror.

"Sp//der, how do I look?” Peter asked, flexing his muscles as he watched as the suit formed snuggly around his body.

*Beep Beep* responded Sp//der in an adorable two beeps.

 Just then, Peter felt his spider-senses tingle. As he turned around, he was met with a strange portal, glitch-ing through his living room. As he looked in, he saw another Spider-Man in a black and red suit, running away from hundreds of other Spider-Men in various different costumes. Before Peter could react to anything else, he was zapped away by the portal, along with a few of the items that were nearby. His backpack; which contained his wallet and ID, his camera, laptop and phone, a Bluetooth speaker in the shape of Spider-Man’s face that hung to the bag with a key-chain, a pair of old clothes he last wore a week ago, as well as a month’s worth of web fluid. A framed picture of Aunt May and himself as a child eating birthday cake, some experimental spider bots that Peter hadn’t finished tinkering with, and his old costume where all sucked in alongside him.

Gotham City, July 20, 20XX  

Typing away at a large computer was a gruff man; he looked to be in his 30’s but was actually 42 and had barely slept at all in the past few days. He wore a grey costume with a Black bat symbol across the chest, and black cape with a cowl that hung at the back of his neck.

“Did you see that sudden spike in Crime Alley?” said a young man wearing a black suit with a blue bird across the chest. The suit looked very tactical, but lightweight as well.

“There was a large shockwave, as well as a bright flash of color before fading away.” Coolly replied the older man, “Red Hood and Black Bat are already on their way there. ETA in 20 minutes.”

The younger man nodded in response, placing a sleek, angular shaped domino mask over his eyes as he turned and walked away. “I’ll just head out and patrol the usual area then, call if you need a hand with anything.” He said as he hopped onto a heavily modified motorcycle and rode off.

The man continued typing at the computer, seeing if any surveillance had picked up the strange anomaly. There were a few images of the initial flashes of light, but the signal quickly died after that. He analysed the footage he had available, and noticed something odd. It was only for a brief frame, but he swore he saw someone leave that portal. He reached a hand over his shoulder and pulled his cowl over his head as he got up from his chair at the large computer. He placed a hand over his ear.

“Keep on high alert, there may be something hostile that came from the anomaly.” He said in a composed but warning nature.

“It’s Gotham, everything is dangerous.” Sarcastically responded a muffled metallic voice. The sound of a motorcycle audible through the comm.

“Just don’t do anything foolish, Hood. I’m heading out now.” The man replied sternly as he hopped into a vehicle that could only be described as Tank that tried that wanted to be a sports car.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Bats.” Hood replied cheekily, he seemed to enjoy trying to get under the gruff man’s skin, but affectionately called him ‘Bats’ as a nickname. “Black Bat and I are en route, Red Hood, out.” He said as he hung up the call. ‘Bats’ just let out a small chuckle as he started his engine and made his way out his lair.

In a strange alleyway, Peter grumbled in pain he tried getting up. He noticed the small crater around his body, as well as his back pack and a bunch of his belongings.

“Ugh, where on earth…” Peter mumble as he dusted himself off, collecting his belongings from the floor and shoving it all into his bag, except the photo frame, though he kept the picture it held before.

“Sp//der, I don’t suppose you know where we are, huh?” Peter asked hopefully, but Sp//der just gave a sad boop in response. “Hmm, guess we’ll have to do this the long way.” Peter shrugged as he shot a web up to the nearest building, zipping upward, leaping from ledge to ledge, and making his way up higher to get a good view of his surroundings. He looked at the view around him, trying to take everything in, wherever he was, it wasn’t anywhere he’s ever been. He looked at his phone, but became distressed when he had no signal. “C’mon, seriously. Just where the hell am I? Not even Google maps seem to work here!” Peter yelled in exasperation.

He didn’t want to panic, but he had already worked so hard to get to where he was now. After losing Uncle Ben, he became Spider-Man, and everything was going relatively well, but a few months ago everything changed. During an altercation with the Green Goblin, he had discovered Peter’s identity and used it to target him. Peter would still be haunted in his dreams, The Goblin dropping Gwen and Aunt May of the bridge. Peter desperately tried to web them to safety, but in his hubris, he forgot the most basic law of physics. ‘It’s not the fall that kills you; it’s the sudden stop.’ He could still remember the sick laughter of the Goblin, mocking Peter for having the two people he cared about most, die by his own hand. He gritted his teeth and clenched his knuckles at the memory. It was his biggest regret; it stung even more than Uncle Ben’s death. He let out a weary sigh as he leapt off the building, not wanting the negative thoughts to distract him from the current situation.

“Okay Parker, focus! First task, find out where we are.” Peter spoke to himself as he swung from building to building, taking in the gothic scenery around him. While Spider-Man swung, he felt his Spider-Senses blaring all around. He didn’t notice at first, as his body was slowly acclimatizing to the new environment, but this city was really dangerous. “Geez, what hellhole did I land myself in?”

A few minutes after hanging up his call, a man in a tactical suit with a brown leather jacket and combat boots parked his bike near a desolate alley. The dim streetlights glimmered off the red metallic helmet the man donned. Behind him landed a young girl in all black, a yellow bat symbol across the chest, and a mask that covered the entirety of her face, with yellow stitching around the mouth, eyes and throat. She was silent, nodding at Red Hood when he acknowledged her presence.

“Yo.” Was all he said as her gestured for the girl to follow him. The two walked down the alley, looking for the cause of the anomaly. The girl was quick to notice the human-sized crater over the damp pavement. “Someone here. Not anymore.” She muttered with a pained breath as she put a hand to her throat. Red Hood took notice.

“Talking still tough on you?” He asked, worry evident in the tone of his voice, to which the girl nodded. Red Hood gestured his hands, speaking in ASL.

<If it’s any easier on you, I don’t mind talking like this. I’m a bit slow, but I can manage.> He signed, looking at the girl expectantly, to which the girl surprisingly shook her head.

“No. Need… practice.” She let out a tired gasp. Black Bat still had lingering memories of her father, or perhaps ‘sperm donor’ would be a more apt title. Her father abused her. She was deprived of speech and human contact during her childhood as conditioning to become the world's greatest assassin. Consequently, she grew up to become an expert martial artist and developed an incredible ability to interpret body language to the point of reading complex thoughts, while simultaneously developing limited social skills and remaining practically mute and illiterate. If it weren’t for Batman, she’d probably be a cold hearted killer, but now she has a family, a weird family, but a family nonetheless.

“Hmm… tracks… cold.” Black Bat mumbled. She’s been undergoing special treatment in the bat cave to heal her vocal cords, but it would take some time before it would heal completely. Red Hood walked beside her, crouching down towards the crater while holding a strange device. She then noticed an empty photo frame. She held her own device over it before noticing it was safe before picking it up and showing it to Red Hood.

“Hmm… doesn’t look like there’s any radiation. Wonder what could’ve caused this.” He said with a hand on his chin, suddenly, there was a loud explosion that could be heard a few blocks from where they were. The two took a quick glance at each other before darting towards the noise, grappling into the air to get a better guise at the situation.

Peter’s Spider-senses were blaring at him nonstop, it became hard to concentrate, until suddenly, a loud thunderous explosion echoed across the city. Peter swung himself onto a nearby building, only to be met with the shocking sight of a building on fire. He took off his bag, and webbed it onto the closest wall that could not be easily accessed. He took a running start before leaping 20 feet into the air, towards the burning building.

Peter’s senses sharped as he heard the screams of civilians trapped in the fire. Peter locked eyes with a young girl, probably around five or six, crying tearfully in front of the window. Peter’s mind went into overdrive as he shot webs with both wrists towards the window, the impact enough to send dust particles flying, but Peter was unbothered. He gestured for the little girl to step away before webbing the window, punching it, then tossing the webbed and broken glass back into the fire.

“Hey there little one, are you hurt?” Spider-Man said in a friendly tone, trying not to frighten the girl. She was teary eyed, but shook her head.

“How many more people are in here?” Spider-Man asked as he slowly approached the girl.

“M-m-mom! She-she’s still in bed, but the fire is in the way! Please save her!” The girl cried. Spider-Man clenched his fist before nodding. He wrapped an arm gently around the girl before quickly leaping through the window, the child screamed for a moment but was in awe as she saw Spider-Man’s web-shooters in action. He gently placed the girl down a safe distance from the building before web-zipping back in through the same window. It was an apartment building, so there were definitely more people inside, Spider-Man’s enhanced senses could hear more cries from the floors above and below him, so he knew he had no time to waste. He rushed headfirst towards the bedroom, the flames barely making Peter sweat, his suit was designed with the same tech to withstand the Human Torch after all. Spider-Man shoulder barged through the door, sure enough, the woman was still in bed. Spider-Man didn’t have the time to wake her, he just carried her bridal style before jumping out the window, much to the shock and displeasure of the woman. Her attitude calmed quickly after she was reunited with her daughter, pulling her in for a tight hug. Before she could thank her saviour, he was already gone, back inside the building.

Within minutes, the parking lot that was just the lady and her daughter was quickly filled with residents of the burning building. The figure in red and blue, leaping in and out of the building while carrying people out of the building, gracefully swinging back and forth. In less than five minutes the building had been completely cleared out, and there were now 20+ residents watching their homes go up in flames, but at least their lives were safe. Spider-Man did a quick head count, making sure he got every last person out of that building. As he continued to count, the residents all clamoured towards their unknown hero. Spider-Man reflexively held his hands up, expecting a fist to come flying his direction, but to his surprise, they thanked him. Peter was taken aback when a man grabbed his hand to shake it, he wasn’t used to this kind of thing. Back in New York, thanks to Jonah, the public saw him as ‘a menace at best, and a threat at worst.’ Ah, classic Jameson, Peter thought to himself. He quickly calmed the crowd down as he assured them that other help would be on the way before he prepared to make his escape.

“Hey, wait! What’s your name, Mister Hero!” The girl called out, catching Peter by surprise, maybe they didn’t know who Spider-Man was. It had only been two years since he started the whole hero thing, but Peter had hoped he had more street cred than that. Beneath his mask however, he let out a soft chuckle looking at the little girl's innocent eyes.

“It’s Spider-Man. With a hyphen.” The red and blue clad hero replied, being extra specific to include the use of a hyphen in his name, it always annoyed him when others forgot.

As Spider-Man was conversing with the residents, Red Hood and Black Bat stood perched above a building, overlooking the scene. They stood bewildered as they watched this strange red and blue man clear out a building of nearly 30 people in under five minutes.

“Am I seeing things or…” Red Hood trailed off, meekly pointing towards the strange new vigilante that has appeared in Gotham. Black Bat leaned in closer, analysing the strangers figure and every move that he made.

“Can see… muscles… tight…” She whispered, an almost soothing sound to her raspy voice. Red Hood noted her reaction, he knew of her habit of studying people, but was surprised by how gentle she looked from her own body language, as if she could sense something familiar within herself and this stranger. “Muscles… tighten. Coiled. With incredible… strength and control.” Black Bat continued, Red Hood listening intently to her every word.
“He’s… strong… yet gentle. Pure power… but he doesn’t know…” She ended off, choosing not to continue her monologue. This left an impression on Red Hood, he had known the girl for a few years now, and he knew how much she did not like talking, so for her to speak at such lengths for a complete stranger, Red Hood was a bit lost for words. He trusted her intuition though, she was rarely wrong in her judgement, but he thought it best they observe the stranger more before they try to approach him. As they watched from up above, they spotted the fire department arrive on the scene, and it seems it was also the que for the spider themed vigilante to make his escape. Red Hood and Black Bat followed silently as they watched the stranger slingshot himself 100 feet away with his strange webbing, leaving both Red Hood and Black Bat with their jaws on the floor. Red Hood tapped at the side of his helmet, activating his comm.

“B, you’re not gonna believe this…”

“Ah, nothing like doing a good deed to bring your spirits back up.” Spider-Man thought out loud, the turbulence of the wind hitting his body as he glided through the night sky.
“Hey Sp//der, any idea what might have caused that fire?” Spider-Man asked, his AI sending out an affirmative Beeb; a pop-up window showed on Spider-Man’s visor, showing a probability meter. One option read ‘arson’, with an 89% strong possibility of that being the case, followed by gas leak, at 6%, and ‘other’ taking the remaining 5%. Spider-Man’s visor furrowed, matching his expression underneath, “Wait, what makes you so sure its arson?” Peter asked, earning a beep mimicking R2D2, much to Peter’s surprise and delight. The AI sent Peter another pop-up, explaining the lack of methane or other gasses typically present during gas leaking, secondly, that explosion was far too loud to have been an accident. Perhaps this should be looked into. The AI typed away, much to Peter’s surprise. Turns out Sp//der was a lot more advanced than he had initially thought, Peter should install a voice modulator at some point, he thought to himself. Sp//der continued plastering Peter’s vision with notes, pleading with Peter that he needed more information regarding the city and that he should look for a nearby library.

“Good idea. Aunt May always said, ‘If you’re ever lost, find a library.’” It was solid advice, libraries usually had amenities like phones and internet access, and in a pinch it could be very useful.

After swinging around the unknown city, Spider-Man made his way to a section of the city known as the Somerset. He had been swinging for nearly ten minutes before his eyes were locked onto an old, building with a massive pillars in the front, also a large plaque with the words ‘Gotham City Public Library’ etched in gold lettering.

Peter let out a tired smile, happy to have finally made some progress in his quest for info. He made his way down the side of a building, pulling off his mask and throwing the week-old red hoodie and a black denim jeans over his spider suit before making his way towards the library’s entrance.

The Bat-Chat

Red Hood: I’m telling you, he was swinging from webs! And it was crazy, he was practically showing off with all the twirls and backflips he was doing! The building was on fire, dammit!

Red Robin: Calm down Jason. Batman said not to engage him, just observe. Even if he did help, we don’t know enough about him to ascertain whether he’s trustworthy or not.

Black Bat: (ง︡'-'︠)ง!

Red Robin: What now, Cass?

Black Bat: He’s not sketchy. I don’t sense that from him.

Nightwing: Regardless, we should keep tabs on him. See what other heroics he might have before we eventually meet.

Oracle: From the surveillance I was able to pull, he seems to be quite skilled with that white rope of his. You may have just met your match, Dick.

Nightwing: Oh? Send the footage, lemme see if he’s really as good as Red Hood lets on.”

Oracle: Sent -> surveillance_footage_bowery_Cam07.mp4

                Sent -> surveillance_footage_bowery_Cam08.mp4

                Sent -> surveillance_footage_bowery_Cam09.mp4

Barbara Gordon chuckled to herself as she typed at her phone, she was in her wheelchair behind the desk of the library, working as a librarian. She let out a weary sigh, the brief moment of fun not enough to ease her nerves. She heard about the anomaly from Batman, she would periodically check the surveillance in the area from her tablet before getting back to work in the library. As she looked back at the tablet, she couldn’t help but worry what had caused it, and if Batman really had seen someone leave the anomaly. Then her thoughts shifted to the red and blue vigilante that rescued some people from a burning building. He was a completely unknown entity to them. Black Bat quickly apprehended and dealt with the arsonist at the scene, but Barbara’s thoughts were elsewhere. She pondered whether the stranger could have been connected to the Black Spider, AKA – Eric Needham. A lesser known assassin and rouge amongst Batman’s list of infamous adversaries, but she had very little information to go off of.

Barbara scrunched the bridge of her nose as she began thinking; from the anomaly, to the crater Black Bat found, to the footage of the strange vigilante, Barbara could not help but ponder whether there was a connection between the two. The arsonist was trying to burn his own building for tax benefits, so he’s likely not connected to the anomaly directly, but it breaking out so near to it, and this sudden appearance of a new vigilante broke out only a few blocks away from the initial sighting of the anomaly only strengthened her stance.

Before she could ruminate more, her concentration quickly shifted to the entrance, when a cute young boy with neat brown hair and hazel eyes entered. Barbara gave him a warm smile as he awkwardly stumbled in. She eyed the boy for a moment, he looked to be in his teens, around 16 or 17 years old, and wore a baggy red hoodie, black skinny jeans and a pair of red and white sneakers.

“Hi there, welcome to the Gotham Public Library. My name’s Barbara, but feel free to call me Babs, everyone else does.” Barbara said with a cheery smile, she noticed that the boy seemed to calm down a bit as he returned the smile back to her.

“Err, hi. I’m Peter.” the boy shyly replied. He’s seen lots of pretty girls back in New York, but this Barbara lady was setting off every synapse in his body. Peter immediately thought back to MJ and her deep red hair. Barbara looked to be in her late twenties, her hair was slightly lighter, and more ginger in color, but Peter still found himself staring. He caught himself before the woman seemed to notice, Peter let out a small cough, tying to change the subject.

“Um, do you mind if I borrow a computer?” He asked meekly to which Barbara lightly chuckled at the boy.

“Of course, please help yourself.” She said, gesturing towards the rows of unused PCs near the empty corner of the library. Peter smiled, nodded and waved at the redhead before making his way to the corner. Peter sat down in front of one of the old PC’s, the tech was a bit dated, but that did not matter, he reached into his bag and pulled out a USB cable and connected it to his suit, he took a quick glance over his shoulder, making sure the librarian could not see what he was doing.

“Alright Sp//der, show me your magic.” Peter whispered as his AI began downloading data from the PC’s system. As he let Sp//der do its thing, Peter browsed through the internet, learning everything he could about where he was.

Peter was not in New York anymore, but he already knew that much. He was now in a city in Jersey, Gotham City, to be precise. What truly shocked him was that there were no articles about Spider-Man, Iron-Man, Captain America or any Avenger for that matter (not that Peter ever was an Avenger or anything), it was like they did not exist in this world. The next thing to surprise Peter was that this world had superheroes of its own, from the Invincible Super Man of Metropolis to the Dark Knight of Gotham, the infamous Batman. They even had their own team of heroes similar to the Avenger known as the Justice League of America. Sp//der let out a soft beep, alerting Peter that it downloaded enough information to be of use. Peter smiled as he disconnected Sp//der form the PC and got up from his chair. There was one last thing Peter noted before logging off.

The term ‘Metahuman’ was unfamiliar to Peter, but he lived in a world with the X-Men and mutants, so it wasn’t a hard concept to grasp, still, it worried him. Unlike back in his world, mutants were discriminated against, he could never get on board with the bigoted beliefs of many New Yorkers, but here things were a bit different. Meta-humans here are considered more of a biological abnormality. Meta-humans are either born or have developed a meta-gene. It seems somewhat similar to mutants, the gene usually staying dormant in a person until a specific trigger activates it, resulting in a person developing supernatural powers like electricity or super speed. As a super powered being himself, Peter worried about a certain law regarding Meta’s in Gotham. The city had a strict ‘No Meta’ policy. Any meta’s illegally staying in Gotham would be taken to Arkham Asylum. Peter shivered slightly at the thought, still he couldn’t help but ponder the possible parallels between mutants and meta’s, but he had more pressing issues to deal with right now, such as, where would he sleep tonight.

As Peter made his way out, the librarian beckoned him towards the counter.

“Hey Peter, are you doing okay?” She asked, her warm smile seemingly melting Peter’s walls as he stared for a brief moment.

“Uh, yeah… I’m good. Just have some stuff on my mind.” Peter mumbled as he trailed off, perking Barbara’s interest in the boy,

“Oh, if it’s not too much trouble, I don’t mind being an ear to vent to.” She replied, a tinge of worry laced on her voice. Peter was taken aback, how this woman he’s only just met could be this good at lowering Peter’s guard, raising an eyebrow at her otherwise good intentioned offer. Peter’s spider senses weren’t going off either, so it’s not like talking to her would be dangerous, right?

Peter sighed as he scratched the back of his head, giving a somewhat embarrassed look as he turned his head away from Barbara, too ashamed to look her in the eye while muttering what he had on his mind.

“The thing is… I don’t really have a place to stay tonight.” Peter timidly mumbled, earning a concerned look from Barbara.

“Oh sweetie, are you doing okay?” Barbara responded anxiously, wrapping a hand around Peter’s, causing him to blush slightly. With her free hand, Barbara grabbed a sticky note from here drawer and began writing something on it before handing it to Peter. Curious, Peter took the paper and analysed it carefully.

“The Martha Wayne Foundation?” Peter muttered as he read the address on the paper.
“If you need a place to sleep for the night, check them out. Tell them Babs sent you, they’ll know what to do from there.” She replied with a smile and a wink. Peter felt his cheeks redden again. How this lady was able to smile even in this God-awful city was something to be admired.

Peter thanked Barbara again before making his way out the library, following the address with a little assistance from Sp//der, Peter set out to find the Martha Wayne Foundation. As Barbara watched the boy disappear from her sight, her phone buzzed for her attention. Nightwing had finally responded.

Nightwing: Okay… I saw the video…

Oracle: Oh really? What’s the verdict then, Mr ‘Flying Grayson’?

Nightwing: He’s… good. I’ll give him that.

Red Robin: Rattled LMAO!

Red Hood: LOL!

Spoiler: NGL, Dick, but he kind of cooked you there!

Robin: Hmm… his movements are indeed impressive, but also reckless. Surprised he hasn’t gotten himself killed yet.

Signal: Honestly, his movements weren’t the only thing that caught my attention. He was carrying like - three people at once. Could he be a new Meta?

Oracle: It’s possible. I’ve also been looking into Eric Needham, the Black Spider. There are some circumstantial clues, given they both seem to have a spider motif, as well as the use of, what I assume to be artificial webbing. Despite that, I doubt there is a correlation between the two.

Black Bat: Not a threat. Heart pure. Good person.

Everyone (besides Black Bat): Huh???

Red Hood: Err, yeah… I think Cass might’ve developed a crush…

Barbara nearly dropped her phone before swiftly catching it, staring at the last message Jason had just typed into the chat. Cassandra Cain, the anti-social, quiet and aloof teen who rarely sought out others had a crush, and for the strange new vigilante that was now prowling the streets of Gotham no less. Barbara knew how adept Cass was at reading people. Even with a short glance, she could tell more about a person than their own mothers could. If Cassandra believed that this new vigilante was a good person, then Barbara was willing to give the vigilante the benefit of the doubt, hoping that eventually, he could become an ally in this dark and dreary city. As she put away her phone, her thoughts drifted back to the cute young teen that had just left the library moments prior, a small smile escaping her lips.

“Stay safe out there, Peter.”

Chapter Text

Gotham City, July 20, 20XX

*Thwip*

*Thwip*

*Thwip*

The sounds of Spider-Man’s web-shooters were like a calming presence to Peter. It was like Peter’s own little ASMR session, not even the loud hustle and bustle of the city below him was enough to distract him as he made his way to his destination. The Martha Wayne Foundation.

After asking Sp//der for more details, Peter learned that The Martha Wayne Foundation were patrons and supporters of art, family, and education. The foundation would support and help run a number of orphanages and free schools, while providing teachers for those who have learning difficulties. Artists could apply for grants from the foundation to help support them in furthering the education. The foundation would also sponsor companies like the Family Finders, an organization directed at finding lost people and uniting families. The Martha Wayne Foundation also sponsors and runs dozens of soup kitchens and shelters within the city. Peter beamed under his mask.
“This sounds just like F.E.A.S.T.” Peter thought aloud, “Aunt May would’ve probably been volunteering here if she were in this world too.” He muttered to himself, his tone hiding a hint of regret in his words. Peter was still wearing the jeans and hoodie he threw on earlier, his suit was snug against his body, underneath the other layers of clothing. He still kept the mask on, the last thing he needed was someone seeing his face as he flung from building to building.

Peter found the Martha Wayne Foundation with a bit of guidance from Sp//der, displaying a small map of the area inside his visor, which Peter greatly appreciated. He landed in a nearby alley, pulling off his mask and gloves, shoving them into his pockets. As Peter continued walking, he could feel his Spider-sense going off in his head, but as he scanned the area, he noted that the danger was not aimed towards him, but rather, someone else. Peter’s eyes widened as he followed where his tingle led him, only to find a young girl, no older than the one he saved earlier that evening. Peter approached slowly, trying not to alarm the poor girl, covered in snot and tears. Peter crouched down, pensively thinking of how to proceed.

“Hi there, I’m Pete.” Peter said softly, flashing the girl a gentle smile as he gently patted the girls head. She flinched at first, Peter took note. That wasn’t the normal reaction of a child, but rather one of that had experienced abuse. Peter gritted his teeth as his eyes scanned the child’s body, noting the various bruises on her arms and legs. Peter was positive there were more, but he was not about to check under a little girl's dress to confirm that, she’d already been through too much, Peter thought.

“Can you tell me your name?” Peter said gently as he continued to caress her hair gently.
“My name…” The girl mumbled weakly as she struggled to find the strength to let her voice be heard,

“My name is… Peni…” The girl trailed off, shivering in the cold night. Peter could feel his heart ripping to pieces at the sight. He reached into his backpack, luckily, there was an unopened candy bar still inside. He held it towards the child, letting them take it.
“Here Peni, you should eat this.” Peter said as Peni shyly but swiftly swiped the candy from Peter’s hand. She was skinny, almost gaunt.

This poor girl was hungry, neglected and hurt. Peter wasn’t sure who did this to her, but as he watched the child scoff down the chocolate like it was about to run away, Peter couldn’t help but feel his blood begin to boil. Promising himself he would find out who had done this to her, and as if the heavens were answering Peter’s call, a chubby older man came walking out from the nearby alley, carrying a bottle and reeking of booze. The man shot a glare at Peter, before shifting his attention to the girl at his side. Peter looked on in disgust, the contorted smiling face of the man stared daggers at the two kids, but Peter did not waver. After facing the likes of the Sinister Six, there wasn’t much that could scare Peter, but he stood still in his tracks, feeling the child shiver as Peter shielded her from the stranger.

“Oi, I found that kid first! Peni… what’re ya doing out so late? C’mere, its ‘time for bed’, hahaha.” The man slurred his words as he made his way closer towards Peter and the child.

Peter’s skin crawled after that last comment, and he did not want to hear more. Peter could feel the girl flinch in his arms, her heartbeat suddenly becoming erratic. Without thinking, Peter placed a hand underneath the girl and lifted her up to his chest, giving a sharp, infuriated glare as the man suddenly stopped himself in his tracks. The timid boy that was once before the man was there no longer, now what stood before him could only be describes as a predator, preparing to pounce upon its unsuspecting prey.

The man shuddered as he gazed into the teen’s fearless hazel eyes, as if tempting him to make the first move. The man’s every instinct told him to turn around and run, but the alcohol in his system seemed to inflate his pride. He let out a tired chuckle before smashing the beer bottle against the nearby wall, aiming the broken shards of glass at Peter, brandishing it like a makeshift knife. Peter just scoffed before darting towards the man, keeping a strong grip around Peni.

Peter was a blur of speed and unrelenting rage, before the man could even react, Peter had leapt into a spinning roundhouse kick. Before the stranger could process what was happening, he felt the immense pain of Peter’s size 10 sneakers pressed against his mouth, sending him flying into the wall. As he collided with the worn-down brick wall, Peter noticed a few teeth that were now scattered across the ground. He didn’t want to scare the little girl, so he quickly covered her eyes and walked away with her in tow.

“Do you beat him up?” The girl asked, much to Peter’s surprise. She looked up at him with a beaming expression, a complete shift from the fear in her eyes moment earlier. Peter chuckled to himself as he patted little Peni on the head.
“Yeah, I beat him. You don’t need to worry about him anymore.” Peter replied, feeling the grip of the child as she brought Peter in for a tight embrace.

“Thank you, Pete.” She sweetly mumbled into Peter’s ear; he unconsciously tightened his embrace around the girl. He did not expect to become so attached this quickly, but he did not mind either.

“No need, I‘m a hero. It’s what I do.” Peter replied, carrying the girl with him to the shelter.
“Nuh-uh! Not in Gotham! Everyone only thinks about themselves!” Peni explained with a dismayed look. Peter almost couldn’t believe she was the same little girl he found crying just minutes ago. He brought the kid closer to his face, so they could see into each other’s eyes.

“Peni, how old are you?” Peter asked in his usual friendly tone. Peni looked down at her hands for a moment, raising six fingers up to Peter’s face. His mouth arched into a cheery grin,

“I see. I’m 17. It’s very nice to meet you.” He continued, getting an affirmative hum and a nod from Peni.

“Peni, do you have anywhere to go tonight? A home? Parents?” Peter questioned but immediately regretted it when he saw the sad look on Peni’s face.

“Okay, forget I said anything…” Peter mumbled, trying not to bring up bad memories for the kid. Then Peter’s grin widened, “Peni, I don’t have a home either, so I don’t think I can keep protecting you like this, but I know a place we can go. A place that’s safe, with food and blankets too.”

Peni looked up at Peter, she gave him a sad look when he told her he was homeless but was more than glad to accompany Peter to the shelter. The food and blankets were a good bribe.

Peter entered the Martha Wayne Foundation through the main door, with Peni cuddling up to Peter as they walked pass the massive doors.

Inside, Peter was met with looks from just about everyone inside the shelter. They were not judging stares, no. It was more a mix of sympathy and pity than anything. Peter’s attention suddenly shifted from the stares around him to the woman at the front counter, who signaled for Peter to approach.

“Hi.” Peter said as greeted the receptionist, who gave a gentle smile in return.

“Greetings, welcome to the Martha Wayne Foundation. Are you two together?” The woman said, smiling kindly at Peni and Peter. The two nodded in return, to which the lady behind the counter pulled out two forms from her desk, handing it to Peter.

“Please fill this in, I will be with you shortly after you have completed.” She finished, handing Peter a pen. He looked down at the form, it seemed to be the typical liability waiver you’d see anywhere. Thankfully though, an ID was not necessary to use the facilities. Peter still had his old one in his bag, but if this really was a different universe, it was practically useless. Peter made a mental note to ask Sp//der if he can forge a fake ID for him. As he finished filling in his paperwork, he glanced over at Peni again, he had to fill in her information now.

“Hey Peni, before I fill this out, do you mind if I ask you something?” Peter asked, getting a subtle nod from Peni in response. Peter continued, being careful how to broach the subject. He asked softly, “Peni, that guy from outside earlier… Was he…” Peter cut himself off, not sure if he should continue down that line of questioning. Instead, he asked something simpler.

“What’s your last name?” Peter asked politely as began to write.

“Parker.” The girl replied. Peter momentarily stopped all movement as he looked at the child sat on the countertop. Giving a long, confused stare. Feeling as if his heart suddenly stopped beating.

“Parker?” Peter mumbled out in reply, as if begging Peni to confirm what she just said. The girl gave a quizzical look at the teen before stating,

“My name is Peni Parker!” She yelled, earning looks from the other shelter dwellers. Peter stared incredulously for a moment, before his lips arched into a toothy grin. ‘Talk about Parker luck, eh.’ Peter chuckled to himself before wrapping Peni into a tight hug.
“Are you serious? I’m a Parker too.” Peter continued, “Peter Benjamin Parker.” He said with a hint of pride in his voice. Peter could feel the little girl shake under his arms, he thought he may have hugged her too hard, but that ended up not being the case. Peter eyed her affectionately, he almost couldn’t believe how similar they looked at first. It was only now that things were beginning to calm down that he noticed her short curly light brown, and her greenish-hazel-colored eyes.

Peter was an only child, his parents passed away in a plane crash when he was 10 years old, but they were always away for work. He never really knew Mary and Richard Parker, they existed more as a concept to Peter, rather than actual people. He had always wanted a sibling, but Aunt May and Uncle Ben never had any children of their own either, so now when the opportunity came, he made the decision then and there. It couldn’t be a coincident at this point, it had to have been fate that the two of them would meet like this.

“Peni, do you want to stay with me?” Peter asked as he patted her head softly.

“With you, Pete?” She asked hesitantly, unsure if Peter was being serious or not.

“Of course! We’re both Parkers, so we gotta stick together. From now on, I’ll be your big brother.” Peter answered. Peni could feel the faint trails of tears drip down her cheek, but she was not crying. Rather, this was a first for her. She was so moved by Peter’s words, words she’d always wish to hear from someone. For the first time in her six years of life, someone had reached out to her, rescuing her from her unfortunate fate.

“B-Big brother!” Peni cried out as more tears began to fall, staining Peter’s only good hoodie, but he could care less about clothes now. After months of battling depression and his own inner demons back in his old world, after losing his Uncle Ben, Aunt May and Gwen Stacy in the span of two years. Peter’s family were no more.

Gone.

In the short time Peter spent in this world, he was worried if he would ever be able to return, but now, that idea had completely disappeared. He had a little girl that affectionately called him ‘big brother’ now, so how could he possibly think about abandoning her? Peter had resolved himself, he knew taking care of a child was a tough job, but he was a superhero after all. After countless life or death battles with Spider-Man’s various foes, a younger sister was going to be the least of his problems.

After Peter had completed the rest of the paperwork for Peni, the two of them went inside. They were welcomed with warm food and clean clothes, a bed, and even a shower. Peter was extra protective of Peni while in the public bathroom, not letting anyone snatch a peek of his new little sister. He then acquired some medicinal supplies and began treating Peni’s wounds. To his surprise, the cuts and bruises already looked like they were healing. ‘There’s no way, right?’ Peter wondered to himself. He quickly shook that idea out of his head as he changed Peni into clean clothes and tucking her under the covers, watching her contented smile as she rested on the bed. Peter felt a warmness in his heart. A feeling his hasn’t felt in a long time. He gently rubbed her head as she began to doze off. Peter let out a light yawn, too. He was tired, but he knew he had to start preparing. He leaned down towards his chest, speaking softly.

“Sp//der, I need an ID and social security number. Think you can help me out?” Peter pleaded to his AI.

*Beep Beep* replied the AI as it quickly got to work, thanks to being connected at the library earlier, it had full reign to search the web (pun completely intended), finding whatever loophole, backdoor, or data cache it could pry open. In just under an hour, Peter Benjamin Parker existed in this world, at least virtually. He made up a convincing backstory about how he and his little sister Peni were orphans that bounced around various orphanages around Gotham. He didn’t bother with the high school diploma. Peter was a smart kid; he’d find a way to make a living somehow. Peter knew the future was going to become even tougher now, but when has life not been tough for him. He’s already made his decision. Even if there is no relation, she’s a Parker. He promised to himself he would keep her safe, whether it be a lingering guilt, or longing for family, Peter was not planning on backing down now.

Outside the shelter, two figures stand atop a roof, scanning the scene. They had found a man with a bloody nose and missing teeth laying against a wall of a nearby alley earlier. The attack was quite vicious, but the man would live. He did not want to explain anything to the two men, only mutterings of ‘sorry’ and ‘he’ll leave Peni alone’

“Who’s this Peni person, I wonder…” Mumbled Red Robin, kneeling down over the ledge.

“Whoever she is, it seems like she’s safe. That drunk was probably messing with her before her boyfriend laid him out or something.” Playfully remarked Red Hood in response, a sly smirk underneath his red helmet.

“Do we call it a night? I doubt we’ll be seeing more of this Bug Boy tonight.” He said as he stood up, stretching his back. Red Robin nodded in agreement, both of them heading for their bikes at the bottom.

Gotham City, July 21, 20XX

Peter woke up to the sounds of chatter, plastic knives and forks tapping against paper plates, the static of the television relaying the news to the people of Gotham. Peter got up slowly, making sure both Peni and his stuff were safe, and thankfully they both were. Peter swung his legs over the edge of the bed, focusing his attention to the flat screen television high on the wall.

“-Back to the reporter to the scene.” Said an aged African American news anchor, before the footage cut to a blonde Caucasian woman, dressed in a thick grey coat and purple sweater, the woman spoke into her mic.

“This is Vicky Vale on the scene where last night, a sudden explosion caused unrest to the people of Gotham, what followed after was a building suddenly bursting into flames. The GCPD has the suspected building arsonist in for questioning as we speak, but that’s not what’s got everyone’s tongues talking.” The reporter said as she gave what seemed to be a ‘trademark smile’ before continuing her report, Peter watched on, somewhat anxious of the public’s perception of his Spider-Persona. Peter looked on as Vicky spoke, while footage of his deeds the previous night was being broadcast. Apparently, some people in the area had already been recording the building as it was on fire, they pretty much saw everything. Footage of Spidey clearing out 24 people, two dogs and three cats out of the building, one by one, sometimes two, even three people at a time. The next words to come out of Vicky’s mouth surprised Peter, she praised him.

“The vigilante, whoever he is, acted very bravely. Could he potentially be a new member of the Bats? That remains to be seen, but from this reporter’s perspective, I think he’s here to do good.” Vicky sounded off as the scene cut back to the studio. Put couldn’t help the faint smile as his lips curled up. Before Peter could do anything else, he felt Peni tug on the arm of his hoodie.

“Big bro, I’m hungry.” Peni tiredly muttered, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Peter tousled his hand through her hair, watching her nuzzle against the warmth of Peter’s hand. The duo got out of bed and went to grab something to eat. It wasn’t anything special, just your typical porridge, but beggars can’t be choosers, Peter thought. After their meal, the two quietly left the shelter.

“Where to next, big bro?” Peni asked, her eyes shimmering as she looked up at her brother. They were holding hands as they walked down the road. It was daytime, so Gotham was marginally safer right now.

“Hmm… Let’s head to the library, I need to look for a job, and get a physical ID.” He replied, holding Peni’s hand tightly as she skipped as they walked.

After walking for a few minutes, Peter sensed something was off. The streets were surprisingly busy this morning, with pedestrians bumping shoulders against each other and continuing their commute, not even bothering to apologies. ‘Was this a Gotham thing?’ Peter wondered to himself as he picked Peni up and carrying her on his back, feeling it would be safer that way, not that Peni minded. She was relishing the ‘chance to be tall’, or so she said, much to Peter’s amusement. Peter soon returned to the library from last night with Peni in tow.

Peter pushed open the door, the light ring of the bell catching the attention of the receptionist by the counter. “Hey Babs.” He called out, waving as he walked up to her. Barbara perked up from behind her desk, smiling at Peter as he entered, but her attention was quickly shifted to the small, brown haired, hazel-eyed child on Peter’s back.

“Hi Peter, um… who’s child is that?” Barked questioned. Peter just gave her a playful smile as he began introductions.

“Babs, this is my little sister. Her name’s Peni.” Peter said proudly, seating her on the countertop so Barbara could get a better look at her. Barbara was stunned for a moment, she almost couldn’t believe the adorable little angel placed on her desk was even real, then she glanced over at apparently, her older brother, Peter. Barbara looked with an analytical eye, noting the similar hair and eye color between the two. Barbara scratched her head.

“Why didn’t you bring her around with you yesterday?” Barbara asked, a hint of disappointment in her voice, which Peter noticed.
“Sorry…” He uttered, “Peni and I, we don’t really have a home, so I didn’t want to bring her anywhere I didn’t think was safe.” Peter half lied, he wasn’t going to tell Barbara about how he and Peni met or how he came to be her brother, but Barbara didn’t really need to know all that right now. To Peter’s surprise, Barbara looked at him apologetically, placing a hand over his own.
“Peter, if there’s anything I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask.” She said, looking Peter dead in the eye.
“Thanks, actually… I’m kind looking for a job right now. Know anywhere that’s looking for a 17-year-old with no high school diploma?” Peter replied coyly, Barbara eyed Peter worryingly.
“Peter… are you and Peni okay? How long have you guys been out on the streets like this?” Barbara hit back, her tone a mix of anger and sympathy. Barbara knew how tough Gotham could be, especially for orphans. Barbara found herself thinking of her friends Tim, Cass, Steph and Duke, all of whom are around Peter’s age, and here he was, alone, taking care of a child when he could barely take care of himself. Barbara could feel a small crack in her heart, imagining the possible hardship he and Peni had faced till now. Barbara placed a hand to her chin and hummed thoughtfully, lips curling into a slight grin.

“Actually Peter, you wouldn’t happen to be any good at photography, are you? If not, that’s oka-“before Barbara could finish, Peter reached into his bag, the red Bluetooth speaker jingled as it dangled from the keychain, not escaping her attention. To Barbra’s surprise, Peter pulled out a camera of his own. It looked well used and a little beaten up, but Barbara could see the prideful smile of the boy as he snapped a picture of a gleeful Peni.

“I dabble.” Retorted Peter as he looked at the finished photo and showing it to Peni.
“Perfect!” responded Barbara, “My dad’s the commissioner there, I’ll let him know when you’re coming.”
She added, taking a glance at Peni, while pinching her little cheek. “Just promise me one thing, Peter.” She said, Peter was taken aback by her pleading look. Confused, but curious, he replied,
“Promise what?”
“When you start working, will you please leave Peni here?” Barbara pleaded, she smiled without pity, but rather out of sympathy. Peter was surprised at her request, to say the least.
“What? Are you sure? I don’t want to trouble you with my problem-“ Barbara raised a hand, interrupting Peter,
“It’s not just your problem Peter, it’s hers too.” Barbara replied in an even tone, “Peter, I understand that you want to protect her, but you’re barely old enough to protect yourself, especially in Gotham.” She stubbornly added. Barbara was firm in her stance, she reminded Peter a lot of his Aunt May in that way. Peter knew Peni was going to be a big responsibility, and Barbara was there to really drive home that point. They didn’t even have a home right now, and Peter was not going to bring a six year old to a crime scene. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made, at least until he could afford a place for him and Peni.

“Okay.” Peter replied, nodding in defeat, but still happy with the outcome. Barbara smiled again before looking back at Peni,
“Hey Peni, since your brother is going to be helping the police, do you want to be my little assistant.” She sweetly asked the little girl. Peni looked at Barbara a bit nervously, locking eyes with Peter first. He nodded back with a smile, letting Peni know it was okay. She smiled joyfully at Barbara, raising a hand for a handshake.

“The name’s Peni Parker, looking forward to working with ya, Miss Babs!” She exclaimed, earning a laugh from both Peter and Barbara.

Later that afternoon, Peter found himself at the DMV collecting his new ID. Thanks to Sp//der, he was able to leave a digital footprint, making a quick ‘I lost my ID and need a new one’ excuse all he needed. He left Peni with Barbara at the library, so now was the perfect time to get in a little spidey action. He ran through a secluded alley as he slipped on his mask and gloves, pulling off his hoodie, before launching into a front flip, pulling off his pants and stuffing it into his bag in one fluid motion, swinging away with all his momentum. Peter smiled under the mask, for all the trouble being Spider-Man had brought him, he couldn’t deny it was extremely fun too. Nothing could beat the freedom of gliding through the city, using only his webs and physics. Web-slinging was like therapy in a way, Peter could always focus, or calm down, or perk himself up when the adrenaline of dive bombing and swinging from building to building was gushing through system.

As if right on que, Spider-Man spotted an attempted mugging. Two girls in high school uniforms, one blonde and the other black, were being cornered by a group of four thugs. Peter twisted himself mid-swing, shifting his momentum towards the largest thug. With outstretched legs, the heels of his Air Jordan’s slammed into chest of the thug, sending him flying 10 feet into the air, landing inside an open trashcan.

“He shoots, he-“ Spider-Man was about to quip before one of the thugs slashed at him with a knife. Spider-Man ducked under the attack, launching into a backflip, kicking the man in the chin. Spider-Man shot a line of webbing, mid-flip at the mugger’s foot, causing him to fall backwards and slamming his head against the concrete.
“Sheesh, tough crowd. They normally let me get at least one good joke in before they start fighting.” Spider-Man said self-deprecatingly. His spider-sense alerted him to the thug in the trash can behind him trying to get out. Without looking, Spider-Man webbed the large lid, smashing the back of the thug’s head and closing it shut.

“Seriously though, don’t you guys feel kinda pathetic ganging up on two girls like this?” Spider-Man chided with his arms crossed at the remaining criminals, sensing their heart beats spike. They were scared of him, more scared than any thug back in New York would have been of Spider-Man. Peter couldn’t help the slight grin that was spreading under the mask. ‘This is new’, He thought to himself as one thug pointed at him.

“W-Who are you?” He yelled nervously, his hand trembling at the sight of the unknown vigilante. The thug had no idea who he was, but he knew the Batman, and if this guy was anything like the Bats, he would be eating from a straw for the next few weeks.
“Oh, me?” the hero replied in a faux-mocked tone,

“Just your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man!” He added, triumphantly standing with both arms at his waist, “Oh, and don’t forget the hyphen.” He casually went on, pointing finger guns at the last two thugs.

Before Spider-Man or the muggers could make their next move, the two girls nodded to each other, a gleeful smile on the blonde’s face. They pulled Tasers out their bags, zapping the thugs with enough voltage to cry and convulse in agony, falling to the floor. Spider-Man looked on in surprise, his lenses adjusted to match his surprised expression.
“Ouch, glad I’m not those guys. Nice job girls.” Spider-Man said as walked up to them. The blonde looked up at the hero, face beaming. Her blacked haired friend kept a neutral expression, but there was a noticeable sparkle in her eyes. The blonde looked back at her friend, a soft giggle escaping her lips.

“So this is the guy, right Cass?” She asked playfully. Her friend didn’t respond, but she noticed the pink tinge to her cheeks. Peter, unaware, quickly webbed up the thugs. He tied them to a lamppost and left a sticky note on one of their heads. It read ‘Please call the cops. The webs dissolve after an hour.’ Followed by a childish drawing of himself with his tongue out. The teens watched with intrigue as Spider-Man wrapped up the scene, checking in to see if the girls were okay. The one named Cass shook her head, indicating she was fine.

“You sure? I don’t mind swinging you over to a hospital to get you guys checked out.” Spider-Man replied, the blonde chuckled from behind.

“Oh, don’t worry about Cass. She doesn’t talk much, but she’s a real tough cookie!” She replied, resting an arm on the Spider’s shoulder,

“She doesn’t speak much? Did something happen?” Spidey inquired in return. The blonde gave a somewhat pained smile. ‘Was it a touchy subject?’ Peter silently berated himself, he was probably being insensitive. To his relief, the girl shook her head. She let out a sigh before removing the scarf around her neck, letting Spider-Man get a full look at the gruesome scar across her neck. She quickly wrapped it around her neck again, not wanting the vigilante to see any more than that.
Peter felt a pain in his stomach. The girl was probably no older than Peter, but he had powers that would heal that without much issue. This girl had to suffer something terrible for that to happen, but Peter didn’t want to speculate right now.

“Does it hurt?” He asked gently, Cass shook her head again.

“I see, that’s good.”

“Y-Yeah… good.” She replied, both Spider-Man and the blonde could hear the strain in her voice,

“It's ugly… isn’t it…” She weakly muttered. Spider-Man shook his head as he lifted up part of his shirt. Peter’s healing factor was great at repairing broken bones and tissue, but certain wounds would still leave a scar, and Peter had more than a few battle scars from his time as a hero.

Spider-Man showed the scar of a slash across his back, one earned through a hard fought battle against Scorpion, his venom left a lasting burn on his skin. He then moved on to the blemished spots on his upper arm, they were bullet holes. He then showed off a scar near his abdomen, to the lower right of his belly button, was a spear wound that was inflicted with an adamantium blade by Craven the Hunter. The two girls looked shocked at how badly damaged the hero was.

“Scars aren’t ugly, at least not to me. These are wounds I earned from helping people. I don’t care if anyone thinks they’re ugly or not, I tell them it just means I’m stronger than them.” Spider-Man replied, his voice firm and resolute.
Cass felt her heart beat slightly faster, unable to hide the redness in her cheeks. Her blonde companion took notice, her grin widened as she spoke to Spider-Man,

“Thanks for the help back there, Spiderman. I’m Stephanie, and this is my friend Cassandra.”

“You forgot the hyphen.” Spider-Man cheekily retorted.

“Wait, you can tell the difference?”

“Of course I can.” He snapped back, his tone half offended, half joking, “Anyways, it was nice meeting you two. I gotta go now, so get home safely. Gotham ain’t exactly the safest place after all.” Spider-Man said as he shot a web at the ledge of a building, zipping away from the two teens.

Cass and Steph looked on in awe, admiring the acrobatic spectacle of Spider-Man swinging up and away, gaining more momentum as he disappeared over the city’s skyline. Steph quickly pulled out her phone, messaging the rest of the Bat family of their latest encounter with the vigilante.

­­­­­­­­

Spoiler: OMG you guys! You’ll never guess what Cass and I just saw!

Red Robin: What now, Steph?

Black Bat: We met Spider-Man.

Red Robin: What!?

Nightwing: Really? What was he like?

Red Hood: What happened? Where are you two right now?

Black Bat: We ran into some thugs earlier. Spider-Man jumped in and dealt with them. He was really cool.

Spoiler: More than just cool, Cass was red as a tomato, she was positively star struck!

Black Bat: Shut it!

Signal: Damn, Jason wasn’t kidding about the whole crush thing was he? LOL

Robin: You’re all being childish. Cassandra, Stephanie, can you confirm whether this Spider-Man is a threat or not?

Black Bat: Not a threat. He’s a good person, truly.

Spoiler: I’m with Cass. He seems like a good guy, I think he’d make a good bat.

Batman: No.

The group chat stayed silent for a moment. Batman rarely used the Bat-chat, but when he did, it was serious.

Red Robin: What’s wrong, B?

Batman: He may not pose a threat, but we still know nothing about him. I want Nightwing and Red Robin out on patrol tonight. Don’t make contact, just observe him for now.

Red Robin and Nightwing left saluting emoji’s as they closed the chat, preparing for their evening patrol. Nightwing and Red Robin were in the Bat cave, observing the massive Bat computer, sifting through all available security cameras throughout the city, trying to find a beat on the red and blue clad vigilante.

“Think we’ll get to see him tonight?” Nightwing pondered as he attached his escrima sticks to his back. Earning an excited look from the younger boy. They both hopped on their modified bikes, the engines giving off a light purr as the engines were engaged. With a smile, the two vigilantes raced down the dirt road, out through the secret entrance to the Bat cave.

Elsewhere in Gotham, the Dark Knight scoured the dilapidated ruins of Old Gotham. The place became somewhat of a ‘no-man zone’ after a 7.6 magnitude earthquake destroyed most of the city. Most inhabitants have already left, now only crime lords and squatters use the land. It was but a twisted amalgamation of new, modern buildings, with pieces of the city’s old gothic architecture clashing with the scenery, sticking out like an old tumor. Batman was following up on a lead. Bruce Wayne had always wanted to rebuild this ruined city, but thanks to the corrupt bureaucrats of Gotham, even his persona of a billionaire playboy was not enough to get things going. Bruce met with Mayoral candidate Lincoln March many times before. The two had been pushing for his Gotham Revival Plan, but came up with nothing each time. Frustrated, Bruce knew he could only rely on his persona as the Batman if he truly wanted to get this done. Batman didn’t have much to go off either, he only decided to investigate here because an off-hand comment made by a wealthy Gotham socialite. Something about owls and nursery rhymes.

“Beware the Court of Owls that watches all the time,
ruling Gotham from a shadowy perch, behind granite and lime.
They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed,
speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send the Talon for your head.”

Batman recounted the old nursery rhyme to himself as he lifted a manhole cover, wading through the sewers below the city. It was silly; the Batman was looking into old nursery rhymes for children, expecting that to lead him somewhere. He sighed to himself, hoping that while he was away, at least the rest of the Bats can deal with the Spider-Man problem.

Back in the city, Spider-Man was wrapping up another would-be robbing. He waved at the cluster of nearby onlookers as he hung the group of criminals upside down from a lamppost.

“Wow, wasn’t he on the news yesterday?”

“Yeah, I heard he rescued a bunch of people from a burning building in the Bowery.”

“Wow, he’s so cool. Do you think he’d give us an autograph if we asked him?”

“I dunno. The Bats don’t usually do the whole autograph thing, you know.”

Spider-Man chuckled to himself, the kids whispered, but his enhanced hearing let Peter hear their whole conversation. He reached into his bag, pulling out a pen and a small sketch pad. He beckoned the two boys towards him, seeing the bright smiles across their faces.

“You’re so cool, Mister!”

“Hey, are you friends with Batman?”

The two boys excitedly fired off questions as Spider-Man gave vague answers, while matching their energy.

“Batman, huh? I’ve never met him, but I hope we can get along. Gotham’s a big city, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a bit of help.” Spider-Man replied earnestly. He still knew very little regarding Gotham’s Caped Crusader, but he learnt enough about the vigilante to know he wouldn’t be an enemy at the very least. Spider-Man wrapped up the autographs, addressing them to Jaime and Liam before web zipping away. Spider-Man let out a soft laugh as he left.

“This is pretty nice, actually. If it weren’t for Jonah, maybe life back in New York wouldn’t have blown so much.” He muttered to himself, he was swinging through Gotham Heights in Burnley. It was getting late, he needed to head back to the library and pick up Peni.

Spider-Man noticed a building that was still in the middle of construction, and spotted a crane suspending a large, 20-foot-long reinforced concrete pipe, just big enough for a certain Spider to fit through. Spider-Man didn’t need to think twice, aiming both shooters at the pipe. Two threads of webbing attached to the bottom of the RCP, slingshoting himself through the other side of the pipe, blasting through like a bullet leaving the barrel of a gun.

From below, Nightwing and Red Robin looked on in awe. They were just supposed to observe, but the Spider was too fast, too agile for them to keep up.

“Jeez, you’d think after years of training with Big B, we’d be able to keep up with anyone. This guys’ definitely a meta.” Red Robin muttered as he gasped for air. The duo had been chasing after Spider-Man for the past hour, but they could barely even get close to him. They would only catch glimpses, always right at the end of a fight, webbing up criminals and calling for the police before zipping away as fast as he would arrive. Nightwing gave a frustrated sigh as he placed a hand over his ear, activating his comm.

“Oracle, send in the Wing.” He said into the comm unit, “He’s too quick on foot, or I guess… webs? I need something to keep up.” He ended off as eyed his younger teammate, a small grin crept up their faces.

Barbara was on the end of the line, tapping something into her tablet as it beeped a notification.

“The Wing is en route. ETA in five.” She replied swiftly before placing the tablet down on her desk and checking her clock. It was getting late, already past ten. She looked worryingly at Peni who was scribbling with crayons in the corner. She let out a weary sigh as she wondered about Peter. She did some background checks on him, she learnt that Peter was a 17-year-old kid, he lost his parents soon after his sister was born. The two of them would bounce from orphanage to orphanage, never finding a proper place to settle. Barbara thought about Peter and Peni’s wellbeing for a long while, the Martha Wayne Foundation was good, but she still didn’t think it would be safe for Peter and Peni to return there at this hour, then an idea popped into her head. She grinned as she grabbed her phone, contacting a friend that could lend a hand.

“Hey, Peni. How would you like a snack?” Barbara asked as she reached for one of the many dozen granola bars stuffed inside her desk. She would always keep extra for kids that wandered into the library. Peni immediately beamed at the mention of snacks, dropping her crayons as she darted towards the red head.

“Yay, Peni loves snacks!” She yelled as she hugged Barbara, thanking her as she took the granola bar that was handed to her. The smiling Barbara just ran a hand through her hair, feeling her heart melt at the sight of the adorable little girl munching her snack.

Chapter Text

Gotham City, July 21, 20XX

Spider-Man sat atop a tall building, munching a doughnut given to him by a street vendor he had helped earlier. It was a little past 10, and Pete had an adorable little sister he had to pick up. After swinging from Gotham Heights and slinging himself across the Sprang River, Spider-Man found himself back in Somerset, he’d be back at the library in just a few swings. Before he could finish eating, Spider-Man could sense the presence of something approaching below him. The spider looked down from the ledge, noticing a man in a skintight black suit, with a large blue bird flying towards him.

“Wow!” Spider-Man mouthed as he watched the man glide with his rocket propelled glider. The two locked eyes, Spider-Man looked on with bated breath, unsure whether this stranger was friend or foe. It took a moment before Nightwing had completely risen to the top, but the two were now at eye level, a subtle smirk on both their faces.

“So, I take it you’re the new vigilante, Spider-Man, right?” He asked, lowering to the ground as he unequipped the glider.

“Yep, that’s me. One Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, at your service.” Spidey replied, giving a salute. He was a bit cautious at first, but his spider-sense did not trigger, so Spider-Man lowered his guard slightly. Nightwing chuckled at the spider, outstretching his hand, offering Spider-Man a handshake.

“I see. I go by Nightwing, it’s good to finally meet you.” Nightwing said, Spider-Man took his hand, both surprised by the other’s grip strength, but neither addressed it.

“Nightwing…?” Spider-Man mumbled out, trying to recall where he’d heard that name before, then it suddenly hit him.

“Oh SHIT!” Spider-Man yelled, his eye lenses widened to match Peter’s shocked expression, “Y-You’re one of the Bats! You’re Batman’s sidekick!” Spider-Man anxiously called out, quickly pulling his hand away, jumping a few paces back. Nightwing giggled at the spider’s reaction, shaking his head slightly,

“Okay, first; I am nobody's sidekick; second, we saw the footage of you rescuing those people from the building in the Bowery, not to mention the surveillance footage of all the crimes you’ve stopped today. Batman and the others don’t consider you a threat, but he doesn’t know enough to trust you yet.” Nightwing continued as he took a seat on the ledge. Spider-Man let out a relieved sigh, taking a seat next to him.

“I see, that’s good… because I really don’t want to end up in Arkham.”

“What makes you think you’d be sent to Arkham?”

“Gotham has a ‘no-meta’ policy, don’t they?”

“Wait, so you are a Meta?”

“I guess. I only recently found out what those were.”

“I see… do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Depends on the question.”

“Well,' you should know; I don’t think Meta’s in general are an issue. I’m actually friends with a few…”

“Really?”

“Yeah… but when it comes to Gotham, most Meta’s… while some choose to use their powers for good, many others don’t. Spider-Man, from what I’ve seen of you, I think you could be one of the good ones. But I need to know… why?”

“Why what?”

“Why become a vigilante? It’s not exactly a glamorous life, and most Meta’s would rather use their powers to benefit themselves, so what made you decide to be a hero.” Nightwing asked, he had a friendly tone, but Spider-Man could tell that there was more behind this question. Spider-Man scratched his head as he took a deep breath.

“It’s… not exactly a story I like telling, if I’m being honest…” He muttered, Nightwing could sense the feeling of hurt laced in the spider's tone. He said nothing, just patiently waited for Spider-Man’s next word.

“My Uncle Ben… he was really important to me growing up. He would always tell me, ‘With great power, comes great responsibility.’ I never really understood what that meant until I lost him.” Spider-Man said a tone both happy and sad, “When I first got my powers, I didn’t have any goals or aspirations of being a hero… I actually tried using my powers to make money at first.” Spider-Man continued, a bitter laugh forming under his breath.

“I got involved in this underground fight club. I’d come home bloody and covered in bruises, hiding it from my aunt and uncle. My healing factor would take care of that for the most part, so they never knew.” Nightwing raised an eyebrow at the spider, Nightwing wasn’t expecting Spider-Man to reveal one of his powers so easily to him, but he remained silent, too engrossed in the story to interrupt. Spider-Man let out another pained sigh before continuing.

“Anyway, I had to fight this guy, Bonesaw they called him. He was huge, but I took him down quickly. The problem: I beat him too quickly.” He continued slowly.  

“I was supposed to be paid for five rounds, I beat him in one. The organizer scammed me out of the rest of my winnings.” Spider-Man chuckled bitterly, Nightwing noticed him squeeze his knuckles.

“When I complained, he told me it wasn’t his problem before ordering me to leave. I listened begrudgingly, but then in a bit of cosmic karma, a mugger snatched his money before darting past me. I watched the mugger pass me by, it would’ve taken nothing for me to stick out a leg and stop him, but I was pissed. I actually smiled to myself when I opened the elevator, allowing the thug to escape. The promoter yelled back at me, asking me why I didn’t stop him…” Spider-Man trailed off, Nightwing could hear the pain in the hero’s voice as he continued. Spider-Man let out shameful chuckle as he recalled the event.

“I laughed at him, told him… ‘It’s not my problem’, before leaving. God, I always feel so pathetic looking back. After that… I went to go look for my uncle, he actually found out about me fighting. We had a falling out about it before, but he wanted to talk it out. We were supposed to meet afterwards but I couldn’t find him... then saw police cars with their lights flashing everywhere. I felt myself swallow my heart as I saw the scene… My Uncle Ben… lying in a pool of his blood…”

“Spider-Man… it’s okay, I understand. You don’t have to-“

“Thanks but, let me finish. I’ve already told you this much. No point in doing it halfway.”

“So… what happened after?”

“I was angry. Very angry. I promised myself I’d find Uncle Ben’s killer, and with my powers, it wasn’t hard. I found my uncle’s car parked outside an old abandoned warehouse. I snuck in and found the guy. All I could feel was my blood boiling through my veins as I spotted him. I… I almost killed him.”

“My fingers were already wrapped around his throat. I watched him turn blue as he clawed at my arms trying to break free, but then… I saw it… his face.”

“His face?”

“That guy… the mugger… in the elevator… It was him… he killed my uncle.” Spider-Man coughed, trying to hide his tears. It had been two years since Peter lost Uncle Ben. No matter how much time would pass, Uncle Ben would always remain one of Peter’s biggest failures and regrets.

“In the end I let him live and brought him to the cops. That was the moment I understood what Uncle Ben meant. I don’t want others to go through the same pain I did… It’s my responsibility to use my powers to help others.”

 Nightwing could feel a knot twist in his stomach. He only had very surface level information on the Spider-Man from the surveillance and news footage they had obtained, Nightwing was taken aback from what he thought was a happy-go-lucky kid with powers, only to realize how little he actually knew about him. Nightwing knew how devastating losing family could be, he had experienced it first-hand. If Bruce Wayne hadn’t taken him in back then, Nightwing would have likely ended up on the streets. There was a moment of silent understanding between them, Nightwing not taking Spider-Man out of his field of view. He put a hand on Spider-Man’s shoulder, reassuring him he knows what he’s going through.

“I understand how you feel...” Nightwing said, a reassuring smile on his face,

“I used to be in the circus as a kid, my parents too.” Spider-Man gave Nightwing a quizzical look, his mechanical lensed exaggerated his expression,

“Really?”

“Yeah… we were a family of acrobats. Life was good until… they were killed in the middle of a show.” Spider-Man’s jaw dropped as he listened.

“A mafia boss was extorting money from the circus. Batman took me in. He also knows what it’s like to lose someone.” Nightwing explained, his voice somewhat pained but he kept his attitude positive.

“And now I’m here, ‘fightin’ the good fight’ as they say.” He added with a chuckle. Spider-Man smiled, letting out a small giggle himself. ‘This is good.’ He thought to himself; it reminded him of the late nights he’d spend with Daredevil, chilling after putting an end to one of The Kingpins rackets. He couldn’t help but notice the similarities between Daredevil and his new acquaintance.

“Heh, so… what brings you up here?” Spider-Man asked awkwardly, changing the subject to something less sombre, Nightwing smiled,

“Well, I was actually told not to approach you and only to observe, the thing is, you were too damn hard to observe.” He replied, letting out a snicker.

“Observe me?”

“Yeah, Batman wanted to know if you were a threat or not. So we should just watch you do your thing.”

“Ah, I see. I guess a new guy showing up on your turf would probably cause some concern.”

“Heh, a little. Batman probably won’t like that I spoke to you like this. But I figured I’d just rip the Band-Aid straight off.”

“Does this mean I won’t be seen as a threat?”

“As long as you don’t start committing crimes, yeah.”

“Heh, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“So, Spidey, can I call you Spidey?”

“Spidey, Web-Head works too. There’s Wall-Crawler and Web-Slinger too… ooh, and Spider-Cop!”

“Where’d you get all these nicknames?” Spider-Man chuckled at Nightwing’s incredulous reaction, “Never mind, that’s beside the point. What are you gonna do now?” Nightwing

asked. Spider-Man huffed awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck, not sure how to explain.

“Well, I kind of have family stuff to deal with.”

“Oh, your parents still around?”

“Oh no, they… passed a while back.” Spider-Man replied uncomfortably, “You see, I’ve got a younger sister, she’s six…” He trailed off, Nightwing gave an understanding look.

“Ugh, honestly… I’m not sure how much I feel comfortable telling you about this.”

“It’s cool, I understand. You just want to keep her safe.”

“Yeah. I do. Thanks for the talk, Nightwing, but I need to go pick her up right now, catch you later?”

“Sure, and hey, if you need help with your sis, let me know. My friend Harley is a great babysitter.” Nightwing joked, waving off Spider-Man as he watched in awe.
Spider-Man had spun 180°, fearlessly falling backwards off the building. Nightwing jumped from his seat to check on the spider, before breaking into a bright smile as he watched Spider-Man slinging away at amazing speeds.

“Heh, wonder if he can teach me that…” Nightwing muttered as he eyed the arachnid, he spotted the bag he was carrying, and noticed the Bluetooth speaker in the shape of Spider-Man’s face hanging from it. Suddenly, before he could ponder it further, he received a call from Oracle on his Comm.

“Hey Oracle, perfect timing! I just spoke to Spider-Man!”
“WHAT? Seriously? Didn’t B tell you just to observe?”
“He did, and he’ll probably be a little mad but…”
“How was he?”
“Just like Cass and Steph described. He seemed like a good kid, we had a really good chat.”
“What you guys talk about?”
“It was actually pretty easy to get him to open up, but… he reminds me a lot of us. Me, Jase, Tim, Cass, Duke, you…”
“Dick…”
“I asked him why he became a vigilante. I won’t go too much into it but… he’s going through a lot. He has no parents, and a little sister to take care of too. I’m a little worried about him honestly”
“He has a sister?”
“Yeah, he didn’t tell me too much, but he mentioned she was six.” Nightwing heard Barbara drop something in the background.
“She’s six?”
“Uh yeah, that’s what he told me, why?”
“There’s no way… right?”
“No-way-what?”
“Come to the library quickly!”
“What, why?”
“Just do it. You have the Wing right, use that!”
“Okay princess, I heard you. I’m heading there now.” Nightwing huffed, half annoyed by Oracle’s insistence.

After leaving the rooftop, Nightwing headed to the library. He arrived and entered through a hidden entrance in the back, giving him enough time to change into civilian clothes. He spotted Barbara behind the counter as usual, but was surprised to see a small child on Barbara’s lap, reading a storybook with her. She looked over at the man as he neared her, smiling like she’s seen a friend after a long time.

“Hey Dick!”  She smiled as she waved at the man, he gave an amused look in return as the child eyed him before looking up at Barbara.
“Miss Babs, that’s a bad word, you shouldn’t call people that.” Peni responded, Barbara and Dick both let out a laugh. Dick patted her head softly.
“It’s my name, silly. Who said it was a bad word?” He replied playfully. Peni shook her head.
“Big brother heard me say it at the shelter. He said it was a ‘no-no’ word.” She said, getting Dick to grin as he playfully raised an eyebrow.
“I see. Well I guess it depends how you use it. My full name is Richard Dick Grayson, what about you?” He replied, the girl smiled back at him.
“I’m Peni. Peni Parker.” She answered cheerfully, reaching a hand to shake Dick’s. He shook it before turning his attention towards Barbara.
“So, what did you need me to come here for?” Dick asked, Barbara gave him an awkward yet pleading smile.
“When will you be going back to Blüdhaven?”
“Oh, you want me gone so soon?”
“Not that, actually… I wanted to ask you a favour. If you’re not using your place here, do you mind if someone I know stays there for a bit.” Barbara sheepishly replied. Dick gave her a quizzical look,
“Who-?” He replied, before being cut off by the cling of the bell as someone entered the library. As Dick turned around, he was met with a scrawny young boy, no older than his brother Tim, enter the library.
“Hey Peter!” Barbara said with excitement, Peni’s eyes perked up at the sight of Peter, eagerly hopping off Barbara’s lap and sprinting towards the teen before rushing into his abdomen and wrapping her arms around him.
“Big bro, you’re back!” She joyfully exclaimed as she tugged harder to embrace Peter, the teen returned the hug, an equally beaming smile plastered across his face.
“Hey Peni, did you have a good time with Babs today?” Peter asked sweetly, scooping Peni into his arms, lifting her off the ground.
“Yeah, Miss Babs is super awesome! She gave me treats, and she read me a book, and she gave me lunch! Miss Babs is the best!” Peter smiled listening to Peni before turning his attention back to Barbara and the stranger beside her. Peter raised an eye at the man, something about his stature or demeanour reminded him of someone, but he could not quite remember who. Barbara quickly introduced Peter to her old friend.
“Peter, this is Dick.”
“Um, that’s a ‘no-no’ word.” Peter replied, earning a chuckle from the two adults. The two men shook hands, Dick noted Peter’s peculiar strong grip.

It didn’t take long for Dick to put two and two together. He remembered Peni mentioned they were at the shelter before, and now Barbara was asking him to lend his unused apartment.
“I see, so you wanted to lend the apartment to them, huh?” Dick said as Barbara rolled her eyes. Peter was listening, but was too confused to speak up.
“Quick on the uptake as usual, Dick. That’s right, do you think you could them out?” Barbara replied. Peter quickly interjected.
“Wait, wait, wait! What’s this about an apartment?” he muttered suspiciously.
“Peter, where do you and Peni plan to stay tonight?” Barbara questioned, her tone sympathetic yet serious.
“Um, well… the Martha Wayne Foundation shelter we went to last night wasn’t that bad…” Peter mumbled out quietly, turning his gaze away from Barbara.
“The shelters are good and help a lot of people, but you’ve got a little girl with you, Peter. That’s not a place you should be raising her.”
“I know, but…” Peter muttered meekly, “You’ve already helped me get a job and looked after Peni today. I can’t keep troubling you with my problems.”
“It’s not trouble, Peter. You’re struggling, so let us help you.”
“Why…” Peter let out an exasperated breath as he spoke, “I appreciate what you’ve done for us, I really do… but why? Why are you being so nice to us?”
“Because I’ve seen this kind of thing a lot, Peter. Do you know how many young kids I see come in here? With no goals, no future. Only to wind up dead within a month. Peter, Gotham is not a safe place, please we just want to help you guys.”
“But-.”
“No buts, Peter. You don’t need to be so stubborn about this. If not for your sake, then Peni’s at least.” Barbara continued, cutting Peter off. She watched as the boy let out a defeated sigh before glaring at Dick, then back at Barbara.
“I think there’s still one person you haven’t asked. Did Dick even agree to this?” Peter asked, expecting this stranger to deny Barbara’s request, but to Peter’s surprise and dismay, he just playfully smirked back at the teen.
“Oh, I really don’t mind. I spend half my time in Blüdhaven anyway, so I could use a new house sitter.” He cheerily added. Peni’s ears perked up as she listened to their conversation. Before Peter could even responded, Peni excitedly started squirming in his arms.
“Big bro, are we getting a house!?”
“What- Peni, wait. Calm down first.” Peter cried as he tried to restrain his sister, to no avail. Her sudden burst of strength was a bit alarming to Peter. He’d dealt with super powered beings before, so the fact he was struggling with a six year old gave him pause for concern.
“No worries Peter, I really don’t mind, I’m more than happy to help you two, so please don’t feel like you’re causing me trouble. It’s not like I only have one apartment either.”
“Oh… really?”
“Yep. C’mon, I’ll take you two there now. It’s in the Fashion District, so it’s pretty close to both the library and the GCPD. I think you’ll like it there.” Dick said as he led the siblings out the library, waving at Barbara as they left.

When Peter and Peni arrived at the apartment they were in awe. It was an expensive penthouse atop a very large apartment building. It was a level of luxury Peni had never experienced, Peter on the other hand only had the rare occasions he’d visit Johnny at the Baxter building as a point of reference. While the Fantastic Four were more futuristic in their tastes, this was just a regular expensive apartment.
“Whoa, how many crime scene photos would I need to take to ever afford this?” Peter stammered out as he looked from the balcony, gazing at the city’s skyline.
“Hmm, no idea. Anyway, what you guys want for dinner?” Dick said nonchalantly from the kitchen, grabbing different pots and pans out the cupboards. Peni dashed in, eager to see what Dick was about to cook.
“Ooh, Peni wants ice cream!” The youngster pleaded, Peter and Dick laughed in response.
“Sure, but only after dinner. If you eat sweets before dinner, the Joker comes out and forces you to brush your teeth.” Dick joked, playfully running his fingers through Peni’s hair.
“Hmm… okay. Peni also likes macaroni!” She excitedly replied. Peter and Dick grinned, the older man gestured Peter towards the speaker on the counter behind him.
“Okay, before we start, let’s get some tunes going. Peter, let’s see what your taste in music’s like. Dick said, watching Peter’s lips curl into a toothy grin. He walked over to the screen, opening Dick’s Spotify. It didn’t take long for Peter to find the perfect song. It was one he was quite fond of back home, often jamming to it as he swung around the city.

When Peter first did research on this world, the only real difference seemed to be heroes and a handful of important figures like politicians and such. Weirdly; musicians, celebrities, brands, basketball teams et cetera, remained largely unchanged. Peter found it strange at first, but he didn’t really mind it too much, it made things easier knowing he could still make the same pop-culture jokes as Spider-Man.

Peter stepped away as the crisp sounds of high-hats indicated the intro, mouthing along to the ad-libs as Dick prepared dinner.

“Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy (Ooh)
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh (Ooh)
Ayy, ayy
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh”

Dick watched in amusement as Peter began dancing around the kitchen with Peni now in his arms, singing along to the lyrics,

“Needless to say, I keep in check
She was a bad-bad, nevertheless (Yeah)
Callin' it quits now, baby, I'm a wreck (Wreck)
Crash at my place, baby, you're a wreck (Wreck)”

Dick couldn’t help himself from singing along, throwing in the occasional ad-lib, before they all sang in unison,

“You're the sunflower, you're the sunflower”

The trio laughed and ate merrily, making light conversation over a warm meal. Dick was eager to learn more about his new roommates, the types of lives they’ve lived, but was careful of their boundaries as well. Even though he’s gained some of their trust, he only met them today after all. Peni passed out not long after eating and Dick helped Peter take her to her room and tuck her into bed. The two headed back to the kitchen, continuing their chat as they cleaned up.

“So Peter, you think you and your sis will be alright living here?” Dick asked.
“Yeah. I was a little nervous at first, but Peni looks like she likes it here. If she likes it, I do too.” Peter replied, lips tinged in a small grin, which amused Dick.
“You really care about her a lot, don’t you.”
“Heh, yeah… she’s kinda the only family I have now. We’re Parkers, we gotta stick together.” Peter replied, though his eyes did not meet Dick’s. The older man did not respond, he did not need to. Dick knew enough about loss to understand what Peter is going through. A poor orphaned kid with a younger sister and nobody else to rely on. The boy was putting on a strong front, but Dick could see right through it. Then, suddenly, Dick felt like everything seemed to click. He took a quick glance at Peter, then his bag with the familiar red speaker attached; ‘No way, right?’ he thought as he scrutinized every aspect of the teen with his gaze. Peter noticed the odd look from Dick, but carried on with the dish in his hand.
Dick’s highly trained eye was taught to notice every minor detail, and his teacher was the World’s Greatest Detective. Everything from his height, build, his strangely strong handshake, and the small similarities between Peter’s story and the conversation he had with Spider-Man earlier that night. Even their voices were strikingly similar, Dick had to contain a laugh, hiding it from Peter.

Dick could not believe it, it was circumstantial evidence, but every instinct in his body was telling him he was right. It was like Dick had just uncovered the greatest mystery in the world by complete happenstance. Dick knew he couldn’t tip Peter off too soon, so he had an idea to slowly get more info from him. A devious grin began to appear on his face.
“Say Peter, do you keep up with the news?” Dick asked innocently, feeling his question was a good way to get gauge a reaction.
“Hmm, not really. Why?”
“Oh, I see. No reason really, but have you seen that new vigilante out on the scene?” Dick asked, he immediately noticed Peter stiffen at the question.
“Oh, really? I haven’t seen a thing, hehe.” Peter replied nervously, scratching the back of his head.
“Yeah, that guy in the red and blue. What was his name again? Web-Head? Or was it Wall-Crawler? Or Web-Slinger…?” Dick continued. Peter, who was initially flustered, suddenly raised a confused eye. Dick definitely took notice.
“Oh yeah, I think it was Spider-Cop!” Dick let out with an amused chuckle, causing Peter to become distraught.
“H…how do you know those names…?” Peter mumbled weakly, feeling his heart beat increase. Dick took a seat on the counter, still chuckling as he eyed the nervous Peter before reaching into his pocket.
“Does this answer your question?” Dick said, pulling out a sleek black domino mask, placing it on his face before looking at Peter, whose jaw was now on the floor.

“Holy shit!? Nightwing?”

Chapter Text

Gotham City, July 22, 20XX

Peter woke up in the morning, feeling more relaxed than he's been in a while. It's about time he caught a break.

He got up and found himself in a luxurious king sized king sized bed. He was confused for a moment, wondering how he ended up here as he let out a tired yawn. He then began remembering the night before, when Dick dropped a massive bombshell on Peter. Dick somehow realized Peter was Spider-Man and confessed to being Nightwing.

Last Night

“Holy shit!? Nightwing?” Peter yelled in shock, he stepped back to assess Dick’s next move. Dick simply chuckled, giving the teen a warm expression.

“Calm down, Pete. Let’s chat, I think we both have some questions for each other.” Dick replied while Peter let out a defeated sigh. The teen walked over to Dick, his eyes still locked to the floor, and took a seat on the counter near Dick. The air was quiet for a moment, then Dick placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“You don’t need to worry, I won’t tell anyone about your secret. I’m a vigilante too, so can you trust me a little?”
“How did you know?”
“Well, we did have that conversation on the roof earlier… in our disguises.”
“Did I make it that obvious?”
“Not really, it was a lucky guess. There were a few circumstantial clues, but no actual evidence. You might want to hide that speaker of your though.” Dick replied, Peter face palmed in response.
“So… you lured me into admitting it?”
“Guilty.” Dick answered back readily, his grin causing Peter to sigh tiredly.
“So… what now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you really not gonna report me to the cops or anything?”
“Why would you think that?” Dick replied, Peter could hear the faint hurt on his voice.

“I… I don’t know…” Peter answered, Dick noticed as Peter’s body began to tremble subtly,
“It’s just… it’s been a bit hectic lately. I’ve been keeping a lot in, and I don’t have a lot of people I can talk too.” He continued, unsure of whether to admit to Dick about coming from another dimension, ‘Would he even believe that?’ he thought to himself.
“I understand. Peter, you’re a good kid, really. You’re trying to support your little sister, while also looking for a job and balancing vigilante work. It’s gotta be tough, no doubt.” Dick said in a playful but reassuring manner. Peter perked up slightly, feeling less tense than before. The two started chatting casually.

Peter vaguely explained his powers, while Dick talked more about his time as Nightwing, working with Batman and his move to Blüdhaven. Peter was astonished to hear about Dick’s adventures, how he too was an orphan, but became a legend in Gotham in his 20’s.
“So, uh… does Bruce Wayne know about all this Nightwing stuff?” Peter asked innocently, but years of training kept Dick cool under the sudden question.
“No. He mostly keeps to himself.” He replied nonchalantly, Peter didn’t push further and decided to change the topic.
“Are there any rogues out there I should keep an eye out for?”
“Honestly, with you being a Meta and all, I think you can handle yourself against most of the guys in Gotham. Two-Face, Penguin, even Bane and Dr Freeze should be manageable… there’s just…” Dick trailed off, unsure how much he should explain. Peter could see the discomfort in Dick’s face, whoever he was thinking of, caused Peter to become somewhat anxious.
“There is one. His name is the Joker.” Dick said flatly. Peter remembered hearing the name, but he has not done any research on him yet.
“The Joker is a twisted psychopath. He doesn’t do it for money or power, he simply wants to watch the world burn. To the Joker, chaos is the ultimate punchline.” Dick continued, and Peter felt his hairs stand up.
“Is he really that bad?”
Dick leaned back on the counter as he replied, “Worse. He’s chaos personified. You never know what he’s planning, and even when you think you’ve got it figured out, he flips the script. Guy’s like a ticking time bomb, but with a sense of humour. A really twisted one.”
“Well, what type of crimes has he committed?” Peter asked, his voice both anxious and engrossed,
“You met Babs, you’ve seen her in her wheelchair…”
“Err, yeah. But what’s that got to do with…” Peter paused before he could finish, a sickly feeling formed in his stomach as he realised what Dick was implying. He shot a glance at the older vigilante, a look of regret on his face.
“It wasn’t just Babs either.” Dick sighed before continuing, “I have a younger brother too, and he was about your age when… the Joker killed him.” The room was so silent after that, the only thing Peter could hear was his breathing getting heavier.
“The Joker makes things personal, Pete. You have Peni, and the Joker won’t hesitate to use her to get to you.” Dick ended off, calm but concerned. Peter’s knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists.
“Sounds like my Green Goblin. He’s... personal.” Peter muttered, Dick shot him a glance.
“Who?”
“You wouldn’t know him, he was an old enemy of mine.”
“Oh…”
“Joker, he reminds me a lot of him. He also… knew what would hurt me the most… He killed my Aunt May, and my girlfriend Gwen.”
“Peter…” Dick mouthed as he tried to comfort Peter.
“Dick, you’ve seen a lot of weird stuff in Gotham, right?” Peter suddenly asked, his gaze now on the dark wooden flooring.
“If… If I told you I’m not from this world, would you believe me?” Peter cut him off, he had decided Dick was trustworthy enough, he already knew he was Spider-Man, so he decided to come clean. Dick looked confusedly at the teen for a moment before speaking up again. He had decided he should come clean, so he began explaining everything to him, from his time in New York up to his sudden arrival in Gotham. Needless to say, Dick was flabbergasted. He was able to compose himself once he got a grasp on Peter’s situation. Then, Dick’s eyes widened in a moment of realization.

“Peter, you’re the anomaly?”

Now it was Peter’s turn to be surprised. He asked Dick to elaborate, which he obliged, explaining how before Peter entered this world, there was a strange shockwave that occurred around the time of his alleged dimensional shift.

“So… you’re from New York?”
“Yep.”
“And you came here alone?”
“Yeah.”
“Then… what about Peni?” Dick asked, and again, Peter’s stomach sank into a pit. Could he admit to Dick that he essentially kidnapped a child of the streets and made her his sister?
“You see, that’s actually a funny story…” Peter awkwardly said, before giving a vague explanation on how he found Peni alone on the streets and decided to take care of her. Dick chuckled at Peter’s sincere answer.
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain how you got a social security or your background at the orphanages?”
“I forged them all.” Peter deadpanned, earning another chuckle from Dick. The two continued chatting throughout the night, Peter feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Before the boy even knew it, he was passed out. Dick thoughtfully carried him to bed before going back inside to make a few calls.

Peter shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he got out of bed. He heard noises coming from the living room, Peni laughing and cartoons blaring, he also smelled the savoury scent of bacon wafting from the kitchen. Peter immediately felt his stomach grumble, his super-enhanced metabolism was craving more calories.

He made his way towards the kitchen, spotting Dick wearing an apron that said “Mr Good Looking is cooking”, frying some pancakes while Peni was watching reruns of Adventure Time. Dick saw Peter walk in from the corner of his eye, a small grin tugging his cheeks.

“Morning Pete.” Dick said as he flipped four pancakes at once, catching it with the pan. Peni, who was sitting on the couch, snapped her head in the direction of Peter’s voice.

“Morning Big Bro! Watch TV with me!” She exclaimed, earning a pleased grin from her brother. He plopped onto the couch next to Peni, who immediately jumped into his arms. Dick went over with two plates of food, one for each sibling, before heading back to prepare his own plate. He came back a moment later, grabbing an empty spot on the couch as all three ate and watched cartoons.

“So, I spoke with Babs earlier, her dad said you can start today. You got a camera, right?” Dick asked, to which Peter gave an affirmed nod.
“Great. Eat and get dressed, I’ll take you to the station before dropping Peni off with Babs.” He added. The three quickly finished eating and made their preparations for the day. Dick, as promised, dropped Peter off at the GCPD before taking Peni to the library. Dick would come fetch Peter when he was ready.

Inside the Gotham City Police Department, Peter’s nose picked up the strong aroma of coffee and sugary sweet doughnuts. It felt like New York, like home. Peter watched as a group of young police officers discussing current events in Gotham.

“Ellen, I’m telling ya, I saw him! I saw the Spider-Guy!” Exclaimed a burly dark skinned officer, who seemed to be getting on the nerves of his female counterpart.
“I’m sure you did, Bennet. Now get back to your desk, there’s still paperwork from last week that’s been piling up.” The woman retorted, tiredly sipping her coffee, she turned to her side and noticed a brown haired teen standing in the foyer with a camera around his neck. He looked neat, wearing a black hoodie with a red bat logo that he got from Dick, as well as some khaki colored cargo pants and his ever-pristine Jordan 1s. Hey, if they never get scuffed, might as well keep wearing them. Peter watched as the two officers conversed, one being an excitable burly black man, the other being a ‘don’t talk until I’ve had my coffee’ kind of girl. Peter chuckled to himself, it really was like being back in New York, the two cops reminding Peter of Officer Jefferson Davis and Yuri Watanabe. With a smile, he approached them.

“Um, hello. I’m here to see a Jim Gordon. Is he here right now?” The teen asked politely, the female officer dropped her previously sour demeanour, returning a courteous smile back at the boy.
“Ah, you must be the new photographer Babs mentioned. Looking forward to working with you, kid.” She said as she extended a hand towards Peter. He spotted a name tag on her breast pocket.
“Yeah, that’s me! My name is Peter Parker, I look forward to working with you too, Ms Yin.”
“Yeah, drop the ‘Ms’. Just Ellen is fine.”
“Erm, okay… Ellen?” Peter half-heartedly complied. The other officer behind her noticed the conversation and decided to butt in.
“Heh, take it easy on the new kid.” He said with a grin before placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry about her being grouchy. That just means she’s running low on caffeine.” The cop added. Peter noted the man’s name tag as well, Ethan Bennet.
“Tell me about it. I need about three just to get through the day.” Peter replied, getting a stern response from detective Yin,
“Those are rookie numbers kid, I’m already on my fifth.”
“But it’s not even 8’o clock yet.” Peter said with incredulity. Yin just chuckled in response.
“Gordon is upstairs. You’ll know it’s his office when you see it. Can’t miss it, really.” Detective Yin said, pointing Peter in the direction of the stairs. He nodded before walking the direction detective Yin pointed towards.

As Peter stood outside the office, he spied the lettering above the door, showcasing the name ‘Commissioner James Gordon’ in gold coloured lettering.
“Ellen was right, you really can’t miss it.” Peter chuckled before giving the door a light knock.
“Come in.” Came the reply from behind the door. Peter entered, his eyes widened as he saw the man, and a sense of nostalgia and guilt washed right over Peter.

“Captain Stacy?” Peter mumbled under his breath, he knew they weren’t the same person, but the aura exuding from the man reminded Peter a lot of his former friend and Police Captain. Peter felt a punch in his gut, Officer Stacy was Gwen’s father, and they were both victims of the Green Goblin in his past world. He quickly shook off the feeling as the Commissioner noticed Peter’s presence, giving the teen a warm smile.

“Parker, good to see you.” The man said, gesturing Peter to take a seat.
“ Hello, Mr Gordon. It’s good to meet you too.”
Peter stepped forward and shook Commissioner Gordon’s hand before sitting down. Gordon leaned back in his chair, adjusting his glasses as he looked over the file on his desk.

“So, you’re the new photographer Barbara mentioned. Peter Parker, right?” Gordon said, glancing up from the file.

“Yes, sir. That’s me,” Peter replied politely, trying to suppress the nervous energy bubbling inside him.

“You’ve got some impressive work in your portfolio,” Gordon continued. “Sharp eye for detail. That’s exactly what we need on the team.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best,” Peter said cautiously. He never submitted any portfolio, it must be Barbara’s doing. Peter made a mental note to thank her later for this.

“I’ll hold you to that, kid,” Gordon said with a slight smirk. He closed the file and stood up, gesturing for Peter to follow him. “Let me introduce you to your first assignment.”

Peter followed Gordon out of the office and down the hall. As they approached the bullpen, Gordon called out, “Yin! Got a minute?”

Detective Yin looked up from her desk, her coffee mug in one hand and a stack of files in the other. Her sharp eyes landed on Peter, and a faint smile tugged at her lips.

“Sure thing, Commissioner. What’s up?” Yin asked as she approached them.

“This is Peter Parker, our new photographer. I’m assigning him to you for today. He’ll be shadowing you to get some shots of the latest crime scenes. Show him the ropes, but don’t let him get in the way,” Gordon instructed.

Yin raised an eyebrow as she looked Peter over, taking in his casual hoodie, cargo pants, and pristine sneakers. “He doesn’t exactly scream ‘crime scene material,’ but I guess we all start somewhere,” she said with a playful smirk.

Peter scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little self-conscious. “Uh, I promise I’ll stay out of the way and just do my job,” he said quickly.

“Relax, kid. I’m just messing with you,” Yin replied, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Stick with me, and you’ll be fine. Just don’t touch anything unless I say so.”

“Yes, ma’am—uh, Ellen,” Peter corrected himself, earning a chuckle from Yin.

“Good. Now grab your camera and let’s go,” she said, grabbing her coat and heading for the exit. Peter quickly adjusted the strap of his camera and jogged to keep up with her. As they left the precinct, Gordon watched them go, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“He’s got potential,” he muttered to himself before returning to his office.

The duo walked down the bustling streets of Gotham, with Detective Yin leading the way. The city’s cacophony of honking cars, murmuring pedestrians, and distant sirens created a symphony of chaos that felt oddly familiar to Peter.

“So, what’s the case?” Peter asked, trying to break the silence.

Yin glanced at him before answering. “Bank robbery last night. Suspects got away clean, but they left behind some... unusual evidence. We’re hoping your photos can help us piece together what happened.”

“Unusual how?” Peter asked, curiosity piqued.

“You’ll see,” Yin said cryptically, her tone making it clear she wasn’t going to elaborate further.

As they approached the bank, Peter noticed the area had been cordoned off with yellow police tape. Officers were stationed at the entrance, keeping curious onlookers at bay. Yin flashed her badge, and they were allowed through.

Inside, the bank was a mess. The vault door had been blown open, scorch marks lining its edges. Shattered glass littered the marble floor, and several overturned desks and chairs suggested a struggle.

Peter immediately started snapping pictures, his sharp eye for detail picking up on every clue: a scorch mark that seemed to form an unusual pattern, a faint footprint near the vault, and even a discarded piece of fabric caught on a jagged edge of the vault door.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Yin remarked as she watched him work.

“Thanks. It’s kind of my thing,” Peter replied with a small smile, crouching to get a better angle on the scorch marks.

Yin walked over to the vault and examined the blown door. “Whoever did this knew what they were doing. This wasn’t just brute force—it was calculated.”

Peter glanced up from his camera. “What kind of crew are we dealing with here? Pros or metas?”

“Could be either,” Yin said. “In Gotham, you learn to expect the unexpected.”

As Peter continued taking photos, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more than just a robbery. Something about the scorch marks and the precision of the break-in didn’t sit right with him.

“Hey, Ellen, do you notice anything weird about these scorch marks?” Peter asked, pointing to the patterns on the vault door.

Yin leaned in to take a closer look. “Now that you mention it, they do look... deliberate. Like someone was trying to leave a message.”

Peter snapped another picture, his mind already racing with possibilities. He had a sinking feeling that this was just the beginning of something bigger.

Peter studied the scorch marks closely, his camera clicking as he captured every angle. The patterns were too deliberate, too methodical to be random. Whoever did this wasn’t just trying to get into the vault—they were sending a message.

“Scorch marks, calculated precision... this feels familiar,” Peter muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” Yin asked, stepping closer.

Peter hesitated for a moment. He couldn’t exactly say, Hey, this reminds me of when a fire-powered villain from my dimension tried something similar. Instead, he chose his words carefully. “Uh, I’ve seen stuff like this in New York. When someone’s leaving a calling card, it’s usually more than just a robbery.”

Yin raised an eyebrow. “A calling card? You think this was personal?”

“Maybe,” Peter replied, still analyzing the scene. “The scorch marks—they almost look like they’re forming a symbol. Like someone wanted to make sure we noticed.”

Yin crouched next to him, squinting at the marks. “You might be onto something, kid. Any guesses who?”

Peter frowned, his mind racing through possibilities. Back in his own world, villains like Shocker, Electro, or even the Green Goblin had signature methods that made their crimes unmistakable. But this... this felt different. More meticulous, more theatrical. It was almost... calculated.

His thoughts briefly flicked to one of the many files Dick had shown him about Gotham’s rogues. “Could it be Firefly?” he asked aloud, recalling the pyro-obsessed arsonist from Gotham’s long list of criminals.

Yin considered it for a moment, nodding slowly. “It’s possible. Firefly’s been quiet lately, but this does match his M.O. Then again...” She trailed off, her brow furrowed. “There’s something off about this. Firefly usually leaves everything in flames—this? This is too clean.”

Peter nodded, filing the information away. Firefly was a possibility, but his instincts told him there was more to it. The calculated precision of the scorch marks didn’t just scream arsonist—it screamed puzzle. And in Gotham, there was one villain who loved puzzles.

“Ellen,” Peter said cautiously, “has the Riddler ever teamed up with anyone before? Maybe someone with... fire-based abilities?”

Yin blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. “Riddler? Not usually. He likes to work alone, or at least he doesn’t share the spotlight. But now that you mention it...”

Before she could finish, her radio crackled to life. “Detective Yin, Commissioner Gordon needs you back at the precinct. We’ve got a lead on the suspects.”

Yin sighed, standing up and dusting herself off. “Looks like we’re cutting this short, Parker. Let’s go.”

As they left the crime scene, Peter couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just Firefly or the Riddler acting alone. The precision, the theatrics—it all felt like the kind of chaos he’d left behind in New York. And if there was one thing Peter had learned over the years, it was that when villains started teaming up, things were about to get a whole lot worse.

Peter and Yin stepped back into the bustling precinct, the cacophony of ringing phones, clattering keyboards, and hurried voices filling the air. As they approached Commissioner Gordon's office, Yin gave Peter a quick glance.
"Stick close and keep your ears open, Parker. If we’ve got a lead, it’s probably connected to what we saw back there."
Peter nodded, clutching his camera tightly. Inside the office, Commissioner Gordon was leaning over his desk, a map of Gotham spread out in front of him. Several detectives stood around him, murmuring to one another. When Gordon saw Yin and Peter enter, he motioned for them to join him.

"Detective Yin, good timing. We’ve got a potential lead," Gordon said, his voice steady but grave. "We traced some unusual heat signatures around the bank attack—specifically in the industrial district near the old Gotham Chemical Plant."

"Heat signatures?" Yin repeated, crossing her arms. "Firefly again?"

Gordon shook his head. "Maybe, but there’s a wrinkle. We picked up strange electromagnetic pulses in the same area. That’s not Firefly’s style."

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. Electromagnetic pulses? That sounded uncomfortably familiar. Back in his own world, tech-savvy villains like Shocker and Vulture used similar methods during their heists. But in Gotham, there was someone else who thrived on technology and puzzles.

"Could it be Riddler?" Peter blurted out before he could stop himself.

All eyes in the room turned toward him. Yin raised an eyebrow, and Gordon gave him a long, appraising look.

"Riddler?" Gordon repeated, his tone neutral.

Peter swallowed hard, trying to explain without giving away too much. "I mean... the scorch marks at the bank—they looked too precise to be random. And if there’s electromagnetic activity too, it sounds like something a guy who loves puzzles and tech might set up."

Yin smirked faintly. "Not bad, Parker. You’ve been here a day, and you’re already throwing out theories."

Gordon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It’s not a bad thought. Riddler’s been known to stage elaborate schemes to draw attention to himself. If he’s teamed up with someone like Firefly or another rogue, it could explain the combination of fire and tech we’re seeing."

Yin nodded, her gaze flicking to Peter. "All right, let’s say you’re right, Parker. What’s the angle here? Why target a bank?"

Peter shrugged, thinking it through. "Maybe it’s not about the money. What if it’s a distraction? Riddler loves games, right? This could just be the setup for a bigger one."

Gordon’s eyes narrowed as he considered the possibility. "If that’s the case, we’re going to need to move fast. Yin, take Parker with you and head to the chemical plant. I’ll have a tactical team on standby, but I want eyes on the ground first."

Yin hesitated for a moment but ultimately nodded. "Got it. Come on, Parker. Looks like you’re getting a crash course in Gotham’s finest."

The industrial district was cloaked in silence as Yin and Peter approached the dilapidated chemical plant. The air was heavy with the stench of rust and chemicals, and the faint hum of electricity buzzed ominously in the distance. The building's shattered windows and corroded pipes painted a picture of abandonment, but Peter’s spider-sense told him otherwise—this place wasn’t as empty as it seemed.

"Stay close," Yin instructed, her voice low but firm. Her hand rested on the holster of her sidearm, and her sharp eyes scanned the area. "This place gives me the creeps, and the last thing I need is for you to wander off."

Peter nodded, clutching his camera tightly as they entered the building. Inside, the plant was a labyrinth of rusting machinery and debris. The air was thick with dust, and the only sound was the faint crackle of electricity. Peter’s senses were on high alert as he noticed scorch marks on the floor, similar to the ones at the bank.

"Ellen," Peter whispered, pointing to the marks. "Looks like someone’s been here recently."

Yin crouched down, examining the marks closely. Her brow furrowed. "Yeah, and they weren’t alone. Looks like they were dragging something—or someone."

Before Peter could respond, a soft clicking noise echoed through the building, followed by the hum of machinery powering up. A set of overhead lights and cameras flickered on, casting an eerie green glow over the room. Then, a voice rang out, smooth and mocking, amplified by a hidden speaker system.

"Ah, Detective Yin, how wonderful of you to join us! And you’ve brought a guest, how quaint!"

Peter felt a chill run down his spine as the voice continued. He didn’t need an introduction to know who it belonged to.

"Edward Nygma," Yin muttered under her breath, her hand moving to her weapon.

"Ah, flattery will get you nowhere, Detective," Riddler’s voice quipped. "But it’s nice to see you remember me. Now, let’s get to the main event, shall we?"

Suddenly, a large monitor lowered from the ceiling, displaying the Riddler’s smirking face. Behind him, several hostages were visible, bound and gagged, their expressions a mixture of fear and desperation. Peter’s fists clenched at the sight.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Yin growled, taking a step forward. "What do you want, Nigma?"

"Simple," Riddler replied, leaning forward as if speaking directly to them. "I want to play a game. You see, life in Gotham has been so dreadfully dull lately, and I thought it might be fun to spice things up. You and your little friend will compete in my carefully crafted puzzles. Succeed, and the hostages go free. Fail, and… well, I think you can guess the alternative."

Peter felt a wave of frustration and dread wash over him. This wasn’t just about the hostages—it was about the Riddler proving his superiority, no matter the cost.

"Why involve the kid?" Yin snapped, gesturing to Peter. "This has nothing to do with him!"

Riddler chuckled. "Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, Detective. I’m a man of intellect, after all, and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to challenge a youngling like him, it makes things more interesting, wouldn’t you agree? We’re live too, so be sure to smile for your TV debut, kiddo.”
"Let the hostages go," Peter said, stepping forward despite Yin’s attempt to hold him back. His voice was steady, but his mind was racing. "We’ll play your stupid game, just don’t hurt them."

Riddler grinned, his teeth gleaming on the screen. "Oh, I do love a cooperative spirit! Very well, the rules are simple. Complete each puzzle within the time limit, and you’ll earn a key. Collect all the keys, and the hostages will be freed. But be warned—failure will have… explosive consequences."

As if on cue, a countdown timer appeared on the monitor, ticking down from 15 minutes. The hostages squirmed in the background, and Peter could see small devices strapped to their chairs—bombs.

"Tick-tock, Detective Yin and Mister Cameraman." Riddler announced. "The first puzzle awaits you in the west wing. I do hope you’re as clever as you look."

The monitor went dark, and the room was plunged back into dim, green-tinted light. Yin cursed under her breath, pulling out her phone to contact backup, but the signal was jammed.

"Of course," she muttered. "We’re on our own for now. Let’s move."

__________________________________________________________________________________

Peter and Yin found themselves in a large chamber filled with pipes and machinery. In the center of the room was a pedestal with a holographic display. The words "Solve me" hovered above it in glowing green letters. Around the room, several colored levers and valves were scattered, each marked with a number.

"What do you think, kid?" Yin asked, her eyes scanning the room.

Peter stepped closer to the pedestal, examining the display. A riddle appeared on the screen:

"I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with the wind. What am I?"

Peter smirked faintly. "An echo," he said confidently, pressing a button on the pedestal to input the answer.

The room rumbled slightly, and a key dropped from a compartment in the pedestal. Peter grabbed it, holding it up triumphantly.

"One down," Yin said, giving Peter an approving nod. "Let’s keep moving."

As they headed to the next room, Peter couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The Riddler’s games were never straightforward, and with hostages’ lives on the line, failure wasn’t an option. The fact this was apparently all live too did not sit well with Peter either. It meant there’d be no Spider-Man to get them out of this mess, not while his face was on screen.

The next room was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of another holographic pedestal in the center. This time, the walls were lined with pressure-sensitive tiles, some glowing green while others were red. A soft hum filled the air, and Peter’s spider-sense tingled faintly.

Yin knelt beside the pedestal, eyeing it suspiciously. “This looks like a trap.”

The holographic text shimmered into view:

"I fly without wings, I cry without eyes. Wherever I go, darkness flies. What am I?"

Peter furrowed his brow. This one wasn’t as obvious. He glanced around the room, noting the tiles and the faint draft of air moving through the space. “Wind,” he muttered after a moment.

“Are you sure?” Yin asked, eyeing the red tiles. “If you’re wrong, this place might turn us into Swiss cheese.”

Peter pressed the button to input his answer, his heart racing. “Wind.”

The room hissed as air vents opened, releasing a harmless gust of air. A second key dropped from the pedestal, clinking onto the floor.

Yin grabbed it, giving Peter a small smile. “Not bad, kid. Let’s keep moving.”

The next room was smaller, with a series of glass tubes running from floor to ceiling. Inside the tubes, colored liquids bubbled and swirled. A control panel with a touch screen stood in the center, displaying a new riddle:

"The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?"

Peter frowned, rubbing his chin. Yin glanced at him expectantly.

“Footsteps,” Peter said after a beat, moving toward the touch screen to input the answer.

Before he could press the button, the liquids in the glass tubes began to bubble violently, and a mechanical voice announced:

“Warning: Incorrect input will result in a hazardous chemical release.”

“No pressure,” Peter muttered under his breath, wiping sweat from his brow.

He pressed the button. The room grew silent for a moment before the tubes lit up with a harmless green light. Another key slid out of the control panel.

“Okay, now I’m impressed,” Yin admitted, grabbing the key.

The final room before the hostages was vast and empty except for a towering clock in the center. The clock hands were spinning erratically, ticking louder and louder with every passing second. At the base of the clock was a console with another riddle:

"The person who makes it, sells it. The person who buys it, never uses it. The person who uses it, never knows they’re using it. What is it?"

Peter’s jaw tightened. This one hit a little close to home.

“A coffin,” he said grimly, not even hesitating as he entered the answer.

The clock hands froze, and the ticking stopped. The final key ejected from the console, and Yin grabbed it, giving Peter a concerned glance.

“You okay, Parker?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, forcing a smile. “Let’s save those hostages.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

With all four keys in hand, Peter and Yin made their way to the central chamber where the hostages were bound. The room was bathed in green light, and the Riddler’s face appeared on another massive monitor.

“Well done, Detective Yin and young Parker! I must admit, you’re better at this than I anticipated,” Riddler sneered. “But let’s see if you’re ready for the final challenge.”

As Yin began unlocking the hostages with the keys, Peter stepped forward, glaring at the screen.

“Final challenge?” Peter asked. “We’ve solved every one of your riddles so far. Face it, Nigma—you’ve lost.”

The Riddler chuckled, his tone turning sharp and condescending. “Lost? Oh, no, no, no! You see, Parker, this final riddle is just for you. Solve it, and everyone goes free. Fail… and we all go boom.”

The screen flickered, revealing a bomb with a timer ticking down from 3 minutes. The Riddler’s voice boomed through the speakers:

"I am always hungry, I must always be fed. The finger I touch will soon turn red. What am I?"

Peter’s mind raced, but his confidence grew as the answer came to him almost instantly. He smirked, looking directly into the camera.

“God, you're such a sore loser... Fire,” Peter scoffed bitterly.

The timer stopped at 0:30, and the bomb powered down.

The Riddler’s smug grin faltered on the screen. “Impossible! No one bests me at my own games!”

Peter crossed his arms, his smirk widening. “Guess there’s a first time for everything, huh?”

Before Riddler could retort, the monitor fizzled out, and the green lights in the room dimmed. Yin finished unlocking the hostages, ushering them toward the exit.

“Nice work, Parker,” she said, patting him on the shoulder.

Peter nodded, but his thoughts lingered on the Riddler’s words. This wasn’t just a game for him—it was personal.

The screen flickered back to life, revealing the Riddler’s face twisted in disbelief and fury. He slammed his fists onto his control panel, his manic laugh breaking into a growl.

“You insolent child! Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? I am the master of intellect, the Sultan of Solutions, the--”

“--Guy who just got beaten by a teenager?” Peter interrupted with a cocky smirk.

Yin smirked beside him, adding, “Yeah, might want to rethink that whole ‘Genius’ moniker. Doesn’t look great when a kid schools you.”

The Riddler’s face turned crimson, veins bulging in his forehead. “You… you insufferable pests! This isn’t over! I’ll make you regret this day!”

The screen flickered off, and moments later, a series of distant explosions echoed through the building. Peter’s spider-sense flared, and he instinctively grabbed Yin, pulling her back as a section of the ceiling in the adjacent hallway collapsed.

“Looks like he’s throwing a tantrum,” Peter quipped, his heart pounding.

Yin nodded. “We need to get everyone out, now!”

Peter and Yin guided the hostages toward the exit. Despite the Riddler’s theatrics, the escape went smoother than expected. The hostages were scared but unharmed, and Yin took charge of calming them. Peter stayed close, his spider-sense on high alert for any traps Riddler might have left behind.

When they finally emerged from the bank, they were met with a swarm of flashing lights, blaring sirens, and chaotic energy. Police cruisers and news vans lined the street, while Gotham’s residents gawked at the spectacle.

Peter blinked under the sudden barrage of attention, instinctively ducking his head to avoid the cameras. Yin, however, held her composure, immediately stepping forward to brief Commissioner Gordon, who had just arrived on the scene.

Amidst the chaos, Peter spotted two familiar figures approaching from the shadows. Nightwing and Signal moved with purpose, their presence immediately calming the tense atmosphere.

“Pete!” Nightwing called, his voice a mixture of relief and concern as he jogged toward him.

Peter let out a small breath of relief, offering a weak smile. “Hey, Wing. You’re late.”

“Yeah, yeah, traffic’s a nightmare in Gotham,” Nightwing quipped, ruffling Peter’s hair. His tone turned serious as he glanced at the building. “You good? What happened in there?”

Peter gestured to the hostages being tended to by the medics. “Riddler happened. But we played his little game and managed to win. No casualties, just a lot of property damage and a bruised ego for him.”

Signal crossed his arms, looking at Peter with a mix of curiosity and admiration. “So, let me get this straight. You went toe-to-toe with the Riddler in a battle of wits... and won?”

Peter shrugged, trying to downplay it. “I had some help,” he said, nodding toward Yin, who was talking to Gordon a few feet away.

Nightwing’s lips curved into a sly grin. “Well, don’t let it go to your head. We’ve got a long list of rogues here who are way worse than Riddler.”

“You already gave me the rundown,” Peter replied, his tone darkening. “Especially about the Joker.”

Nightwing’s grin faded, his expression hardening. “Yeah. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

When Nightwing finished checking on Peter’s wellbeing, he and Signal entered the now wrecked building, looking for a possible lead on the Riddler’s location.

As that was happening, a crowd of reporters surged forward, microphones and cameras aimed at Peter, Yin, and the hostages.

“Detective Yin! Can you comment on how you managed to outsmart the Riddler?”

“Is it true the boy helped you solve the puzzles? What’s his name?”

Peter froze at that last question, his heart skipping a beat. He glanced nervously at Yin, who quickly stepped in.

“No comment,” she said firmly, shielding Peter from the barrage of questions. “We’re just glad everyone is safe. That’s all that matters.”

Peter mouthed a silent “thank you” to her, grateful for the cover.

As the chaos of the aftermath simmered down, Peter’s phone buzzed incessantly. A flood of notifications popped up, and when he glanced at the screen, his eyes widened in panic. Social media was ablaze with clips of the Riddler’s livestream.

“Cameraman Outsmarts Gotham’s Greatest Mind!”
“Who’s the Teen Genius Who Beat the Riddler?”
“Anonymous Boy Outsmarts Riddler’s Deadly Game!”

The comments ranged from admiration to skepticism. People were speculating wildly about Peter’s identity, some even going so far as to connect him to Spider-Man due to his quick thinking and sharp reflexes.

“Uh, Wing? I think I have a problem,” Peter muttered, showing his phone to Nightwing.

Dick leaned over, took one look at the trending headlines, and groaned. “Oh man, you’re going viral. That’s... not great.”

“No kidding,” Peter said, his voice tinged with panic. “The last thing I need is for people to start connecting dots.”

Before Peter could think of a plan, a familiar voice called out.

“Peter Parker!”

He turned to see Vicky Vale, the renowned Gotham journalist, striding toward him with a camera crew in tow. Her perfectly coiffed hair and confident demeanor made Peter’s stomach twist.

“Oh no,” Peter mumbled, trying to back away, but Vicky was already closing the distance.

“Peter, Vicky Vale, Gotham Gazette,” she said, extending a hand and flashing a dazzling smile. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Uh, actually, I--”

“You’re the kid who outsmarted the Riddler, right?” she pressed, her voice dripping with curiosity. “The whole city’s talking about you. People want to know—who are you, where are you from, and how did you do it?”

Peter stammered, his brain scrambling for an excuse. “I, uh, I’m just... lucky, I guess?”

Vicky raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Come on, Peter. Luck doesn’t solve riddles like that. You’re clearly bright, resourceful, and calm under pressure. Gotham could use more people like you.”

Nightwing suddenly stepped in, placing a firm hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Sorry, Vicky, but the kid’s got places to be. No interviews today.”

Vicky’s sharp eyes darted to Nightwing, then back to Peter. “Fair enough. But Peter, if you ever want to tell your story, the Gotham Gazette is all ears.” She handed him a business card before walking away with her crew, her smile lingering just long enough to make Peter uncomfortable.

Peter looked at the card like it might explode. “That was... intense.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Nightwing said, patting his shoulder. “Or not. Either way, you handled it well.”

Commissioner Gordon approached next, his usually stoic expression tinged with rare amusement. “So, it was the kid who made fools of us all and beat the Riddler at his own game.”

Peter scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Uh, yeah? Sorry about that?”

Gordon chuckled. “Don’t be. You saved lives tonight, and you kept your head in a situation that would’ve broken most seasoned cops. That’s no small feat. Barbara was right, there is some potential in you. Ever thought about being a cop?”

“Thanks, Commissioner,” Peter said, feeling both proud and awkward under the man’s praise.

Yin, standing beside Gordon, gave Peter a playful nudge. “Looks like you’ve got fans, Parker. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Before Peter could respond, a motorcycle roared in the distance, and Signal pulled up alongside the growing crowd. His golden suit gleamed under the streetlights as he dismounted and walked over, his usual confidence evident in every step.

“So, you plan on explaining how yo made the Riddler cry on livestream?”

Peter groaned. “Can everyone stop saying that?”

Nightwing laughed, ruffling Peter’s hair. “Hey, take it as a compliment. You’ve officially earned your spot in Gotham lore.”

Peter sighed, rubbing his temples. “Great. That’s exactly what I wanted—more attention.”

As the crowd began to disperse and the hostages were safely escorted away, Peter found a moment to breathe. He leaned against one of the police cruisers, his mind racing. The weight of the afternoon’s events, coupled with the looming threat of his newfound notoriety, made his head spin.

Nightwing sat down beside him, handing him a water bottle. “You did good, Pete. Really good.”

“Thanks,” Peter muttered, taking a sip. “But now half of Gotham knows my face, and Vicky Vale’s got me on her radar. How is that ‘good’?”

Nightwing shrugged. “Welcome to Gotham. It’s a circus, but you handled it like a pro. And don’t worry—we’ll figure out how to keep your identity under wraps.”

Peter nodded, though the knot in his stomach didn’t loosen. He glanced at the skyline, the city lights flickering like stars.

“Thanks, Dick. For having my back.”

Nightwing smiled. “Always, kid. Now let’s get out of here before someone else tries to put a microphone in your face.”

“Can you take me to Peni?”

“Of course.”

The grand, gothic-style library in Gotham hummed with quiet activity. Rows of shelves stretched endlessly, the scent of old books mingling with the faint aroma of fresh coffee from the nearby café. Peter walked through the heavy double doors, his mind still clouded by the events of the day. Dick trailed behind him, one hand casually tucked into the pocket of his jacket, the other gripping the strap of his duffel bag.

They found Peni seated at a small table in the children’s section. The bright pops of color from the murals on the walls stood in stark contrast to the muted tones of the library. She was engrossed in a picture book about space, her little feet swinging beneath the chair. Sitting across from her was Barbara Gordon, typing away on her laptop with a focused expression.

Barbara looked up as she heard the familiar sound of boots against the polished floor. Her face softened when she saw Peter, but the guilt she’d been trying to suppress since the livestream resurfaced as she took in his tired expression.

"Peter," she said, standing up from her seat. Peni’s head shot up, her face lighting up when she saw her brother.

"Big bro!" she squealed, hopping off the chair and running toward him. Peter crouched down, catching her in a hug as she barrelled into him. The simple, warm gesture made his exhaustion feel a little lighter.

"Hey, munchkin," Peter said softly, ruffling her hair as she giggled.

Barbara wheeled her way to him cautiously, wringing her hands. "Peter, I—"

Peter stood up, holding Peni on his hip. "Hey, Babs," he said with a tired but warm smile. "Thanks for watching her."

Barbara frowned, clearly still uneasy. "Of course. But, Peter, I... I saw the livestream," she admitted, her voice tinged with regret. "I feel terrible. If I hadn’t gotten you that job, you wouldn’t have been put in that situation."

Peter shifted Peni slightly on his hip, his smile fading into something more thoughtful. "Babs, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known the Riddler would show up. Honestly, stuff like this seems to follow me around no matter where I go."

"But still," Barbara insisted, her voice dropping. "You’re only seventeen, Peter. You shouldn’t have to deal with lunatics like him, especially not on your first day."

Dick, who had been standing quietly to the side, finally chimed in. "Babs, he handled it," he said, his tone reassuring. "I saw the footage too. Peter kept his cool and outsmarted the Riddler. Not many people can say that, let alone on their first encounter with the guy."

Peter chuckled weakly. "Yeah, well, I don’t think I’m making any friends in Gotham’s rogues’ gallery anytime soon."

Barbara cracked a small smile at that but still looked concerned. "I just... I don’t want you to feel like you have to prove anything, Peter. You’ve already done so much. You deserve a break."

Peter glanced down at Peni, who was happily tugging at his hoodie strings, oblivious to the weight of the conversation. He then looked back at Barbara, his expression softening.

"I hear you, Babs. Really. But taking care of Peni means making sure I have a job and can put food on the table. And if doing that means occasionally outwitting a guy in a green suit, well..." He shrugged, his smile returning faintly. "I’ll manage."

Barbara sighed, clearly not entirely convinced but knowing she couldn’t push him further. "Just... promise me you’ll be careful, okay? Gotham’s not exactly forgiving."

Peter nodded. "I will. Thanks, Babs. For everything."

Dick clapped Peter on the shoulder. "All right, kid. Why don’t you and Peni head home and relax for the rest of the day? I’ll take care of dinner tonight."

Peter gave him a grateful look. "Sounds like a plan."

Peni, now fully distracted by the idea of food, piped up. "Can we have pizza?"

"Sure thing, munchkin," Dick replied with a grin.

As the three of them left the library, Barbara watched them go, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Peter was carrying more weight than he let on. But for now, she trusted that Dick would look out for him.

Still, as she sat back down at her laptop, Barbara made a mental note to dig a little deeper into the strange, brilliant teenager who had just outsmarted one of Gotham’s most infamous criminals.

Chapter Text

Gotham City, July 22, 20XX

The chaos inside the building has spilled out into the streets. Gotham City Police officers swarm the area, securing the building and escorting the shaken hostages to safety. Ambulance lights flicker against the darkening sky, and the crowd of onlookers are held back by barriers.

Standing in front of the camera, microphone in hand, is none other than Gotham Gazette journalist Vicky Vale, dressed sharply in a crimson blazer that matches her no-nonsense tone. The camera zooms in as she begins her live report.

"This is Vicky Vale, reporting live from the scene of what can only be described as yet another bizarre and dangerous day in Gotham City. Behind me, Gotham’s bravest are working to secure the scene after a daring hostage situation unfolded at the abandoned A.C.E Chemicals plant."

She gestures to the burning building, where officers can be seen escorting civilians into ambulances.

"The culprit? None other than the self-proclaimed 'Prince of Puzzles'—Edward Nygma, better known as The Riddler. Sources say Nygma and his gang planned an elaborate death game for Gotham’s police, as well as trapping dozens of civilians inside, including Detective Ellen Yin of the GCPD and a civilian photographer accompanying her on an assignment."

The camera pans to Detective Yin, who is speaking with Commissioner Gordon nearby. Vicky’s voice continues in a voiceover.

"But the most surprising twist in today’s events? The Riddler’s plan was foiled—not by Batman—but by a quick-thinking civilian who reportedly challenged the Riddler to a game of wits."

The camera cuts back to Vicky, who arches a skeptical brow.

"Yes, you heard that right. While police worked tirelessly to contain the situation, and with no sign of the Dark Knight, an unassuming young man—identified as Peter Parker, a recent hire at the GCPD’s media department—managed to out-riddle the Riddler himself. According to eyewitnesses, Parker's quick thinking and problem solving was enough to secure the release of the hostages."

Behind her, Peter Parker is visible in the background, trying to avoid the camera as EMTs check on him. He waves off their concerns with his usual modest charm.

Vicky Vale, smirking slightly continued, "Mr. Parker has quickly been hailed as an unlikely hero tonight. But the question remains: What kind of man can stand toe-to-toe with one of Gotham’s most brilliant criminal minds and come out on top? Luck? Or perhaps something more?"

She pauses for dramatic effect, the hum of Gotham’s chaos buzzing behind her.

"Of course, while this story may have a happy ending, it’s a stark reminder of the ever-present danger in our city. With supervillains like the Riddler continuing to terrorize Gotham’s citizens, one has to wonder: where was Batman? And is Gotham becoming too reliant on its vigilante protector?"

The camera pans to the dispersing crowd, police cruisers, and shattered windows before returning to Vicky.

"For now, the hostages are safe, the GCPD has regained control, and Gotham lives to see another day. But with men like Edward Nygma on the loose, one thing is certain: the games are far from over. This is Vicky Vale, reporting for Gotham Live News."

Peter and Dick were sitting on the apartment couch watching a broadcast from earlier in the day, while Peni was taking a nap. As the broadcast ended, Peter muttered under his breath to Dick.

"Great. I hope my face isn’t gonna be plastered all over town now, the last thing I need is a target on my back.

Dick smirks but keeps his tone dry.

"Enjoy your fifteen minutes of fame, Pete. But don’t think I’m not asking questions about where you got those riddles."

“Well, I never had a riddle-themed villain back in my world. I’m just kinda good at using my noggin’. Nothing that impressive, really.”

“If beating the Riddler isn’t impressive, I’d love to see what you consider a failure.” Dick chuckled. He felt a vibration from his pocket and reached for his phone, seeing the Bat-Chat was active.

Jason: Does anyone wanna explain what I just watched? Did this kid really just solve all of Nygma’s crap!?

Dick: Meet Gotham’s new Question King lol

Jason: I’m serious, Dickwad! Oh, and under absolutely no means is Bruce allowed to see that video! I can already picture him turning that kid into another Robin!

Damian: No, I’ll stay Robin. He can be something else.

Jason: That’s what you’re worried about?

Damian: I wouldn’t worry too much. Father has enough on his plate with the Gotham Revival Plan anyhow. I doubt he’ll even see the news report.

Barb: Speaking of, any word on the big bats yet? He hasn’t been back since he went to Old Gotham.

Tim: He mentioned something about owls and nursery rhymes, but that was about it. But that’s not what I find interesting…

Jason: What?

Tim: So, I did a background check on this Parker kid…

Dick let out a nervous breath, luckily Peter didn’t seem to notice. He promised Peter he would keep his identity hidden, but he knew that once his brother Tim was interested in something, he wouldn’t back down. Dick continued reading

Tim: His full name is Peter Benjamin Parker, 17 years old. Orphaned at 10, he and his younger sister [Peni Parker] attended various different orphanages throughout Gotham. He doesn’t have any criminal or educational background to speak of. Apparently, he hasn’t attended school since his parent’s death when he was 10. Which makes this all the more confusing; how the heck did an ordinary kid outsmart the Riddler

Damian: Hmm... Are we certain this “Parker” isn’t actually working for him?

Dick: Come on, you guys. Can’t a guy just be good at riddles? He’s not working for Nygma. Trust me on this one.

Barb: Yeah, no need to jump to conclusions like that guys. Maybe Peter's just really smart. There's weirder stuff in Gotham these days, like Spider-Man, for instance.

Damian: You are deflecting.

Jason: Demon brat is right. You two know something we don’t?

Dick hesitates for a moment, then types carefully.

Dick: Let’s just say... I’ve got a good read on him. Parker’s a good guy. He’s not a threat.

Damian: If you’re wrong, Grayson, I’ll handle it.

Tim: Can we at least keep an eye on him? Gotham attracts weirdos like a magnet.

Dick scratched his neck, sighing softly. Unsure how to get Tim to calm down, he took a small glance at Peter before replying.

Dick: Don’t worry, he’s not a threat. The thing is... he’s actually staying at my place.

The group was momentarily silent before a sudden group video call came on the screen. Dick gulped as he gave Peter a side eye.

“What’s up?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow at Dick’s nervous expression. Dick just let out a sigh before answering the boy.

“It’s... a family matter.”

“Lemme guess, from the Bats?” Peter questioned, the look on Dick’s face immediately gave himself away.
“Answer it. It’s about the Riddler, isn’t it? If your whole team are detectives, they’re probably a little suspicious of me.”

“I’ll answer it, but are you sure?”

“Just keep the fact that I’m from another universe on the down low for now. Just tell them whatever’s necessary.” Peter ended off with a weary sigh, nodding at Dick to answer.

“Hello.” Dick said into the phone, a small smile appeared on his lips as he saw his adoptive brothers and sisters faces on the screen.

“DICK!” Came a collective yell from everyone in the call (except for Babs, since she knew Peter was staying with Dick.)

“You should seriously start looking for less phallic nicknames, man.” Peter said with a chuckle as he looked over Dick’s shoulder, figuring now would be the best time to introduce himself to Dick’s family.

There was a collective gasp from the other end, Peter saw many new faces, as well as two that were a bit more familiar. The two girls with tasers Peter helped as Spider-Man the other day.

“Um, hi. I’m Peter. Nice to meet you all.” Peter said nervously, feeling like his entire being was being scrutinized by the eyes through the camera.

“Damn, guess Dick wasn’t lying.” Jason murmured under his breath. Peter saw a gruff looking young man’s face through the screen, his green eyes practically pierced through the screen. It was too green to be natural, the last time Peter saw eyes like that it belonged to the Incredible Hulk. Hopefully this guy and his white streak of hair were more on the calmer side.

“Hmm… He doesn’t look all that special.” Damian replied matter-of-factly.

“Ouch, my low self-esteem will never recover from that one.” Peter joked, earning a soft snicker from the others on the line.

“So, you’re the Parker kid that’s been trending online. First question, why are you at Dick’s place?” Came another voice, Tim. Peter looked at the screen, the boy had black hair and blue eyes; he was probably around the same age as him.

“Well, it was kind of forced onto me. I was fine with staying in a shelter, but Dick and Babs said it would be safer for my little sis if we stayed with him.”

“Ah, I see. Next, how the hell did you solve all the Riddler’s tricks?”

“They’re just riddles, not rocket science. It really isn’t as impressive as everyone is saying.”

“If it involves the Riddler it may as well be. Sorry Peter, but there’s too many red flags for my liking. I did a quick background on you, it says you didn’t finish middle school, yet you were somehow able to outsmart the Riddler, of all people. Explain.”

“Hey, I might not have finished school, but that doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

“Hmm, okay smarty-pants… Riddle me this: what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?” Tim asked, knowing hos question was a paradox that Peter couldn’t answer easily. He watched the teen ponder for a moment until a small smile crept onto his face.

“Hmm, how about this? They surrender.” Peter replied confidently. He knew there was no right answer to this, only how confident he could answer it. He watched as Tim began grinning from the other end of the phone.

“Hmm, I’ll accept that as an answer.” Tim graciously accepted defeat, thinking this Parker kid might be more interesting than anything else in Gotham right now. Peter glanced over the other participants in the call, he recognized Barbara, as well as Steph and Cass who were all observing the situation silently. Then Steph spoke out,

“Umm, quick question…" She murmured, looking uncharacteristically shy. "Are you Spider-Man?”

Peter nearly dropped Dick’s phone in surprise, coughing on his own spit as he rushed to think of an excuse. Dick, seeing this happen, tried covering for him.

“Steph, c’mon. You think I wouldn’t have realized that already when he’s staying at my house?” Dick replied calmly. Jason flinched at that, he's known Dick the longest in the group, and could immediately tell when he was lying.

“Holy shit, no way! Is he really!? DICK, ANSWER. NOW!” Jason yelled, much to his older brother’s annoyance. Peter just sighed in defeat. He trusted Dick, more than anyone else in this strange new world, so he doubted he would have exposed him intentionally. Then he remembered that he was Nightwing, and these were the other ‘Bats.’ He figured he might as well come clean with that. Him being an anomaly from another world would still just be his and Dick’s secret.

“Ugh, guess the cats out the bag then.” Peter mumbled under his breath as he reached into his pocket, Dick gave him an uneasy look.

“You sure you want to do this now? Dick whispered, he promised Peter he’d keep his secret, so it was unfortunate they had to expose it now.

“Eh, it was bound to happen eventually. But you trust them, and I trust you. I may as well come clean now.” Peter replied softly to Dick before pulling his mask over his face and looked directly into the camera, much to everyone else’s shock.

“Yep, you were right Blondie. What gave it away?” He replied with a devilish grin under his mask, but his tone was still audible. Cass’ face turned bright red before hanging up the call.

“Remember the other day when you helped Cass and me?”

“Hmm, oh yeah. Taser girl!”

“Yep, that was us. You should try changing your voice. After listening to you long enough, I noticed you had the same speech and inflections as Spider-Man.”

“Huh, well I’ll be… You guys really are detectives.” Peter bashfully replied, “Well, since I’ve got everyone’s attention here, let me just state that I, Spider-Man, will not pose a threat to Gotham. So you don’t need to hunt after me at night anymore.”

“You noticed we were tailing you?” Jason stammered.

“Not at first, but yeah. Anyways, do we have a truce? I’ll even help you guys with whatever villains show up in the city.” Peter replied, hopeful the other vigilantes would take him up on his offer. There was a calm silence until Jason spoke up again.

“Dick, tell Peter to sit somewhere else. We need a private family discussion first, before we come to a decision.” Said Jason. Dick gave Peter an apologetic look before Peter handed the phone back and headed towards Peni’s room. Dick would try to put in a good word for him, so he planned to check if his sister was still asleep.

Peter knocked lightly on the door, there was no answer. He slowly crept the door open, not to disturb the child; but was horrified to find she was no longer in her bed.

“DICK!” Peter yelled at the top of his lungs as he rushed back to Dick. The older man gave Peter a confused look.

“Pete, what’s going on?”

“It’s Peni! She’s not in her room!”

“What?” Dick asked, scrambling to his feet to help Peter. The teen left his suit on under his clothes, so he quickly ripped off his pants, but left his black batman hoodie over the suit, he was in too much of a hurry to find Peni to worry about it now. Before Dick could react to anything, Peter had jumped off the balcony while shooting a web at the nearest building, screaming Peni’s name at the top of his lungs.

“Sorry guys, I need to bounce. I’ll call later!” Dick yelled before hanging up. He quickly searched around the apartment, maybe she was still inside. But when he couldn’t find her, he rushed outside. Like Peter, he too had his suit on under his regular clothes. In less than a minute, he was outside, in uniform and on his bike.

“Don’t worry Peni, we’ll definitely find you.”

Chapter Text

Peter Parker would consider himself a rational, logical thinker.

Jumping off the balcony in search of Peni probably was not the most rational choice.

She was a six-year-old girl, if she wasn’t in her room, she would still be nearby, right? Most people would think that.

But Peter wasn’t most people; most people didn’t have a tingle telling them when danger was approaching, but Peter did. He always trusted that tingle.

And right now, that tingle was telling Peter that Peni wasn’t in the apartment.

Mid-swing, Peter hears a familiar voice in the comm unit given by Dick.

“Peter? What’s going on?”

“Peni’s gone, Dick! She’s gone! I think she’s—”

“Slow down, Webhead. Where are you headed?” Dick's voice is calm but focused, a much-needed anchor.

“I’m following my spider-sense. It’s pointing me… there!” Spider-Man says, spotting a tiny figure leaping through the air like a miniature version of himself.

On top of a construction crane, Peter finally catches up to Peni, wearing a Spider-Man mask that was too big for her, ‘Did she somehow manage to get the old one from my bag?’, he pondered as she swung between girders and cables using silky strands of webbing—natural webbing.

“Peni?! What the—how are you doing that?!” Spider-Man shouts, clinging to the crane with one hand as he lifted his mask above his eyes, staring at her in disbelief.

Peni giggles, her tiny body twisting mid-air like a circus acrobat. “I’m like you, Big Bro! Isn’t it cool?”

“No! Not cool! Dangerous! You’re six! Get down from there before—”

Before Spider-Man can finish, an explosion lights up the horizon, rattling the crane and sending a fiery shockwave through the city.

Nightwing swings onto the crane just as Peter grabs Peni mid-air.

“Oh hey, you found her, that’s great.” Nightwing said in relief, before shifting his focus elsewhere. “Explosion on the train line. That’s not good,” Nightwing says, scanning the scene with his binocular lenses.

“You think?” Spider-Man snaps, cradling Peni protectively as his spider-sense goes haywire.

Nightwing points to the west. “There’s a train heading straight for the gap. We’ve got maybe five minutes before it derails.”

Spider-Man's eyes widen. “Five minutes?!”

“Crap, we don’t have enough time. Even calling Superman over would take too long.” Nightwing muttered, quickly thinking of a plan, but as he turned towards Spider-Man, his eyes went wide as both he and Peni were gone.

With Peni securely webbed to his chest, Spider-Man launches himself off the rooftop toward the speeding train. The roar of the engine mingles with the shrill screech of metal grinding against the rails, creating a deafening cacophony that drowns out Gotham's distant sirens. The wind tears past them, and Spider-Man's fingers curl instinctively, firing a pair of web-lines that sling him forward like a slingshot.

He lands hard on the lead car, his feet sticking into the steel roof for balance. The train shudders beneath him, a hulking beast barely holding together under its own weight. Ahead, the broken track looms closer with every second—a jagged maw waiting to swallow everyone aboard.

"Sp//der, how far are we from the drop?" Spider-Man hastily asked his Ai. After a quick Beep, numbers began forming inside the visor, indicating there was exactly 900 feet, less than 1/4 of a mile left. There was enough time, but it would be a bit dicey.

Far below the elevated tracks, a growing crowd gathers on the streets of Gotham. Their faces are upturned, eyes wide with a mix of terror and awe. Some point at the train barreling toward disaster, others at the red-and-blue figure racing against time.

“Is that… Spider-Man?” one man asks, shielding his eyes from the glare of a streetlamp.

“Who?” a woman beside him replies, clutching her child close.

“That’s him! The new vigilante!” another voice shouts.

“Looks like he’s trying to stop the train!”

A gasp ripples through the crowd as Spider-Man fires web-lines in quick succession, anchoring them to nearby buildings, streetlamps, and support beams, creating a growing webbed framework on either side of the train.

“Okay, okay, okay. I’ve done this before. I can do this again. Just… don’t think about the last time.” Spider-Man's voice is a mixture of focus and barely contained panic, his words muffled by the wind.

Peni clings to his chest, her small arms wrapped tightly around him. “You got this, Big Bro!” she shouts, her voice high but steady.

“Yeah, let’s hope so,” he mutters under his breath.

But instead of clinging silently, Peni wriggles upward, her tiny hands grabbing at his wrist launchers. “I can help! Watch this!”

“What? No—Peni, wait!”

Too late. With surprising precision, she fires her own web-line toward a nearby girder. It sticks perfectly. A second web-line follows, creating a taut diagonal brace.

Spider-Man glances down in disbelief. “Seriously, when did you know you could do this? Did you get bit too?”

“Don’t worry about it!” she chirps, already firing another web.

“Kid, you’re grounded forever!” Peter groans, but there’s no time to argue. The train lurches violently, the momentum threatening to rip apart the delicate webbing holding it steady.

From below, the crowd watches in stunned silence as the webs stretch and shimmer under the streetlights. Phones are out, recording every second.

“Come on, Spider-Man!” someone yells.

“You can do it!”

Peter plants his feet wide, his muscles were coiling as he braces against the force.  “Okay, let’s do this!” Webbing erupts from his wrists in rapid bursts, connecting to the edges of the fractured track ahead. Each thread tightens, stretching like piano wires under the immense strain. Pieces of wooden tracks snapped and splintered against Spider-Man's legs, the unstable molecules in his suit would absorb some of the impact, but he knew he's still had a few bruises to deal with later.

Beside him, Peni fires another web, reinforcing the crisscrossed lattice that begins to form. “We’ve got this, bro!” she yells, her confidence unwavering.

Finally, with a deafening screech, the train grinds to a halt—mere inches from the broken track.

Cheers erupt from the streets below, the sound rising like a wave. “He did it!” someone cries. People clap, whistle, and shout, their fear replaced by pure, unrestrained awe.

On the train’s roof, Spider-Man collapses onto his back, his chest heaving. “Okay… we’re alive. Thank God.”

Peni scrambles onto his chest, her wide grin brighter than the city lights. “You did it!”

“We did it,” Peter corrects, weakly ruffling her hair. Then, with a groan, he adds, “And you’re still grounded. Seriously. Midnight swinging? How are you even able to—did you get bit by a spider too? What is happening here?”

Peni tilts her head, just as confused. “I dunno, maybe? It just feels… natural?”

Before Peter can respond, a shadow swings down beside them. Nightwing lands gracefully on the roof of the train, dragging an unconscious thug by the collar. His sleek black-and-blue suit catches the faint glow of the train’s headlights, and his masked eyes narrow with grim determination.

“Nice work,” Nightwing says, his tone serious. “But this wasn’t just a random attack.” He drops the thug at their feet like a discarded bag of laundry. “Joker’s behind this.”

Peter sighs, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “Great. Now the knock-off Pennywise has me in his sights.”

Nightwing’s gaze flickers to Peni. “So... is this your new sidekick now?" He joked.

“Not a sidekick!” Peni huffs, crossing her arms. “I’m his sister!”

“Clearly; spider powers run in the family it seems,” Nightwing snickers under his breath, shaking his head. “Let’s move.”

From the streets below, the crowd watches as Spider-Man, Nightwing and an unknown girl with a spider mask descended from the tracks. They were admiring the new vigilante as he etched himself into Gotham’s story, his legend already beginning to grow.

Spider-Man's stomach drops. “So, um... Are you absolutely sure the Joker is behind this?"”

“Yup,” Nightwing says, tapping the goon's side with his toe, “This guy spilled everything. The Joker orchestrated the whole thing. The bomb was a distraction, but the real goal was to test you.”

Spider-Man blinks, his mind racing. “Test me? Why?”

Nightwing crosses his arms, his voice heavy with warning. “Because you’re the new guy in town, and Gotham’s rogues don’t like sharing their playground. Joker wanted to see what you’d do when lives were on the line. You passed his test but trust me—he’s just getting started.”

Peni, still clinging to Spider-Man, looks up at Nightwing with wide eyes. “The bad clown wanted to hurt Peter?”

Nightwing lowers his head slightly beside them, his tone softening for Peni. “He wanted to see if your big brother could play hero in Gotham. But don’t worry—he’s not going to win. Not while we’re around.”

Spider-Man groans, sitting up and cradling Peni protectively. “Perfect. Just what I needed. I’m already dealing with Gotham’s grime and your crazy train system, and now I’ve got this guy targeting me? Fantastic.”

Nightwing smirks, offering Peter a hand up. “Welcome to Gotham, Webhead. You’ll get used to it.”

“Yeah, well, I think I prefer my own psychotic villains, thanks. At least Doc Ock just wanted to steal tech.” Peter takes Nightwing’s hand and stands, wobbling slightly as the adrenaline starts to wear off.

The distant wail of sirens signaled the arrival of Gotham’s finest. As police cars and fire trucks swarm the area, Spider-Man feels a pang of unease. He’s used to being seen as a menace back home, and Gotham isn't any friendlier.

Commissioner Gordon steps out of his car, his sharp gaze scanning the scene before landing on Nightwing and Spider-Man.

“Good work,” Gordon says gruffly towards Nightwing, before his eyes shift to the new vigilante in Gotham, Spider-Man. He gave him a quizzical look, he noted the black hoodie with the red bat symbol on his chest, then towards the child in his arms.

“So, you one of the new Bats now?” Jim Gordon asked bluntly.

“Err…” Spider-Man mouthed until he realized he never took off his hoodie. His red Bat symbol was clear for everyone to see. Spidey was about to correct the misunderstanding before Nightwing placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Eventually, but now’s not the time.” He stated matter-of-factly, much to the spider’s chagrin.

As the cops secure the area and tend to the train passengers, a news crew pushes through the crowd. Vicki Vale, ever the intrepid reporter, points her microphone at Spider-Man, "Seriously, her again? Is she some kind of Super-Journalist?" He mumbled softly.

“Spider-Man! A word for Gotham City! How does it feel to have stopped Joker’s plan and saved all those lives?”

Spider-Man raises a hand, backing away. “Uh, no comment. Sorry, gotta… swing.” He stuttered, tightly wrapping an arm around Peni before zipping away. Peni’s loud laughter echoed as they swung, the news crew definitely picked it up.

Nightwing chuckles. “You’d better get used to the spotlight, kid.”

With the chaos finally subsiding, Peter swings back toward the apartment, with Peni webbed snugly to his chest. Nightwing follows, keeping pace.

“Joker’s going to come at you again,” Nightwing says as they land on the balcony. “Be ready. He doesn’t let go once he sets his sights on someone.”

Peter sighs, setting Peni down gently. “Great. Can’t wait. You sure I can’t just go back to my dimension? Pretty sure my villains miss me.”

Nightwing smirks. “You’ll be fine, Spider. You’ve got me, Babs, and the rest of the Bat-Family watching your back. And from what I just saw? You’re tougher than you think.”

Peter looks down at Peni, who’s yawning and rubbing her eyes. Despite everything, she’s smiling at him like he just saved the world.

“Yeah,” Peter says softly. “I’ll be fine. As long as I’ve got her, I’ll be fine.”

Peni tugs on his suit. “Big Bro, can I swing again tomorrow?”

Peter groans, ruffling her hair. “Nope. You’re grounded for life, kiddo. No more web-slinging until you’re at least… thirty.”

Nightwing laughs as Peter carries Peni inside, closing the door on another night in Gotham—one that, for better or worse, feels a little more like home. To avoid further Peni shenanigans, Peter decided to sleep next to her, wrapping her tightly in his arms so she wouldn’t scamper off. Dick reclined himself on the couch and pulled out his phone.

Nightwing: So… you guys are NOT going to believe what happened tonight.

Red Hood: If this is another story about you flipping over rooftops like it’s Cirque du Soleil, I’m out.

Nightwing: No, seriously. It’s about Peter—our new houseguest.

Red Robin: What happened?

Nightwing: Did you guys not bother checking the news once? He stopped a runaway train.

Spoiler: Wait, WHAT?

Red Hood: With what? His webs?

Nightwing: Yep. His webs. And his bare hands.

Spoiler: Hold up, you're saying Peter just… stopped a whole train?

Nightwing: Pretty much. It was insane. His webs were snapping everywhere, but he held on and kept it from derailing. All while protecting his little sister.

Red Robin: That’s… not possible. Physically, that should’ve torn him apart.

Nightwing: Well clearly, he didn’t get the memo, because he pulled it off. He might not be Kryptonian strong, but he's clearly super-human.

Spoiler: Wow, there's a bunch of camera footage online already. Okay, first of all, Peni is absolutely adorable. Second, Peter might actually be the coolest person I’ve ever heard of.

Red Hood: This city’s already got enough dramatic teens pulling off impossible shit. Now we’ve got another?

Nightwing: Difference is, Peter’s doing it while looking after a six-year-old. The kid’s got heart.

Red Robin: Wait, rewind a sec. Was this Joker’s doing?

Nightwing: Yeah. Joker’s goons planted explosives on the train tracks. They were trying to force Peter into action, and he delivered.

Spoiler: Of course it was Joker. Can he NOT ruin one night in Gotham?!

Red Hood: I’m watching the video now. This kid’s my age?! No way. That’s insane.

Duke: Wait, there’s a video? Where? I need to see this.

Nightwing: It’s everywhere. Passengers and Joker’s crew were recording the whole thing. Gotham news is eating it up.

Red Robin: Great. Now Peter’s on everyone’s radar.

Nightwing: I know. We’ll have to watch his back. Joker’s not going to let this go.

Spoiler: Okay, but back to the important part: Peni is adorable. Can I babysit?

Red Hood: Babysit? You? I’d rather let Damian do it.

Spoiler: EXCUSE ME.

Red Robin: Focus. So, Peter’s been Spider-Man this whole time, and none of us noticed?

Nightwing: Hey, he’s good at what he does. Even I didn’t piece it together until recently. His "spider-sense" is no joke, by the way. After Peni ran out, he found her again, faster than I ever could. The explosion happened right after.

Robin: Is this "Peni" the one strapped to his chest?

Nightwing: Yep, that's her. Pete's lil sis.

Spoiler: Awww. Big bro Peter protecting his little sister. My heart can’t handle this.

Red Hood: Kid’s a hero, but way too soft for Gotham. He’s gonna get himself killed if he doesn’t toughen up.

Nightwing: Maybe. But it’s also what makes him special. You should’ve seen him, Jay. He didn’t even hesitate. He just acted.

Spoiler: Okay, but let’s be real: him stopping a whole train is iconic. Best thing to happen in Gotham all month.

Red Robin: Agreed. But Joker won’t let this go. Peter’s in deeper waters now.

Nightwing: I’ll talk to Bruce. We need to make sure Peter and Peni are protected.

Spoiler: Wait, does Bruce know Peter’s Spider-Man?

Nightwing: Not yet. But he’ll find out soon enough.

Red Hood: You’d better tell him before Joker sends another bomb Peter’s way.

Robin: Father has not returned from Old Gotham. It's been two days now.

Red Hood: Sounds like B took an early vacation. Prolly out having the time of his life down there.

Red Robin: Anyway, the important thing right now is to support Peter and Peni and keep them safe.

Spoiler: Hell Yeah! I'm gonna bake cookies for him and Peni tomorrow.

Red Hood: You? Making cookies? Gotham doesn’t need another disaster, Steph.

Spoiler: I hate you, Jason.

Nightwing: 😅 And on that note, I’m out. Goodnight, everyone.

Red Robin: Night.

Red Hood: G'night Dickwad.

Spoiler: NIGHT!

As Nightwing puts his phone down, he went to check up on Peter, who’s passed out on the bed with Peni curled up beside him. Despite everything that happened, Peter looks peaceful, like he’s finally found a moment to breathe.

Dick smiles softly. “You’re stronger than you know, kid. We’ve got your back.”

[Cassandra Cain’s POV]

Cassandra sat cross-legged on the windowsill of her room in the Manor, bathed in moonlight, her phone in hand. The quiet hum of the Batfam group chat filled her screen. She usually read their messages in silence, rarely chiming in, preferring to observe and let her family’s words tell their stories. Tonight, however, something about the conversation had her heart racing in a way she hadn’t expected.

Peter.

Spider-Man.

She already knew who he was—his mannerisms, his movements. Cassandra had spent hours studying people, reading them, understanding them without words. Ever since that day when Spider-Man showed her his scars, her thoughts would linger on the words he told her,

“Scars aren’t ugly, at least not to me. These are wounds I earned from helping people. I don’t care if anyone thinks they’re ugly or not, I tell them it just means I’m stronger than them.”

She could recognize Peter was Spider-Man the moment she saw his face on that video call, even without wearing the mask. It was nice to finally attach a name to the face she's been wondering about for the past few days. When the bombshell dropped, and Peter pulled the mask over his face, all Cass could do was hang up.

What she hadn’t known, until now, was that Peter had been staying with Dick. All this time.

She scrolled through the chat slowly, her eyes scanning each message. Dick’s glowing praise of Peter’s heroism, Tim’s fascination with his impossible strength, Jason’s grudging respect, and Stephanie’s endless enthusiasm for Peni. Cassandra’s lips curled into a soft smile.

Peter had stopped a train. An entire train. With nothing but his webs, his strength, and sheer determination. She imagined it vividly: the tension in his muscles, the sharp focus in his eyes, the unwavering resolve in his heart. He was strong, yes—but not just physically. There was a kindness to his strength, a selflessness.

Her fingers brushed against the edge of her phone as her thoughts wandered. She had only seen him around Gotham twice, swinging through the city with a grace that was almost… playful. There was a lightness to the way he moved, even in the darkest corners of Gotham. It was different from the rest of them.

She paused, staring at the message from Stephanie.

“Awww. Big bro Peter protecting his little sister. My heart can’t handle this.”

Cassandra’s smile grew.

There was something about Peter—something warm, something genuine. He wasn’t like the others in Gotham, hardened by the city’s relentless shadows. He was a spark of light, a reminder that heroes didn’t have to be driven by anger or guilt.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the image of him holding his little sister, shielding her from danger even as he faced it head-on. She could almost see it: Peter, battered and bruised but still standing tall, his arms around Peni, reassuring her that everything would be okay.

Her chest tightened, a small flutter stirring in her heart.

She didn’t get crushes often. It wasn’t something she thought much about. But there was something about Peter that was… different. His strength wasn’t what drew her—it was his heart. The way he cared. The way he didn’t hesitate to protect others, even in a city as bleak as Gotham.

She scrolled back up, rereading Dick’s message:

"Hey, he’s good at what he does. Even I didn’t piece it together until recently. His "spider-sense" is no joke, by the way. After Peni ran out, he found her again, faster than I ever could.”

Her fingers hesitated over the screen. She considered typing something—just one word, maybe—but her mind faltered. What would she even say?

Instead, she locked her phone and leaned back against the window, her gaze drifting to the city beyond. Somewhere out there, Peter was probably still swinging through Gotham, patrolling, protecting.

Cassandra closed her eyes, a faint smile lingering on her lips.

Maybe, just maybe, she’d have to pay a visit to Dick’s place soon. You know, just to check on Peter.

Not that she was curious.

Not at all.

Chapter Text

Gotham City, July 23, 20XX

Peter stretched his arms as he leaned on the railing of Dick’s apartment balcony, sipping a glass of water while Peni played with some action figures on the couch. The events of the previous day had been nothing short of insane—a face off against the Riddler, stopping a runaway train, dealing with Joker’s goons, and ensuring Peni wasn’t hurt in the chaos had taken everything out of him. He needed to decompress, but Gotham wasn’t exactly known for peaceful days.

“So,” Dick said, stepping out onto the balcony with his own mug of coffee. He gestured at Peter, eyebrows raised. “Want to explain how you got those powers of yours? You know, super strength, agility, sticky hands—your whole… spider-thing?”

Peter sighed, leaning against the railing. “It’s not really that exciting. Science experiment gone wrong. I got bitten by a genetically altered spider during a school field trip.”

“A spider,” Dick repeated, blinking. “Just… a spider bite? And it gave you superpowers?”

“Yup,” Peter said, popping the "p." “Turns out radioactive or genetically altered spiders do more than just make you itch. Lucky me, huh?”

Dick stared at him for a moment before cracking a grin. “Man, Gotham villains are weird, but your origin story might just top most of them.”

“Hey!” Peter said, offended. “I almost died from that bite! My body went through… a lot of changes.”

“Right, right,” Dick said, laughing softly. “No offense. It’s just… wild. You know, that makes me wonder.” He glanced back at Peni, who was busy having a battle between her Batman and My Little Pony toys. (Don’t ask why Dick had kids toys in his house.) “If you got bitten by a spider to get your powers, could the same thing have happened to her?”

Peter followed his gaze to Peni, who had been swinging from webs the night before like she’d been doing it for years. The idea gave him pause. Could she have been bitten, too? Or was it something else?

“I… don’t know,” Peter admitted. “I mean, she’s got natural web shooters, which is different from me. Maybe it’s a similar spider? Or maybe—”

“Maybe I should run a DNA scan on her,” Dick offered. “We could check for any mutations, see if there’s something similar in her biology. The Batcave’s tech could handle it.”

Peter hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. The thought of letting Batman’s team analyze Peni’s DNA—or his—was nerve-wracking. With Sp//der's assistance, he was able to forge new identities for eachother, listing themselves as orphaned siblings after being transported to this universe. The last thing he needed was for someone to find out the truth. But at the same time, it might be the only way to get answers about Peni’s abilities.

“Alright,” Peter said reluctantly. “But we keep it between us. No big reveals.”

Dick smirked. “You got it.”

It was mid-morning when Dick decided to loop the Bat-family into his plan. He glanced over at Peter and Peni, who were sitting on the couch in his apartment. Peni had fallen asleep again, curled up against Peter’s side with her favorite action figure still clutched in her hand. Peter, on the other hand, looked a little nervous, drumming his fingers on his knee.

“Alright,” Dick said, stepping into the kitchen and pulling out his phone. “If we’re going to the Batcave, I’d better let the others know we’re coming.”

Peter gave him a wary look. “You’re really sure this is a good idea? I’m not exactly looking to make a grand debut as Spider-Man with the Gotham crew.”

“You’ll be fine,” Dick said reassuringly. “They’re not as scary as they look… well, except for Damian, but that’s just his default setting. Besides, you’ve already made quite the impression after that train rescue. This is more of a meet-and-greet.”

Peter groaned, rubbing his temples. “Great. Nothing like meeting the family when they already think you’re a superhero.”

Ignoring his comment, Dick opened the group chat titled "Bat-fam (No Bruce)" and fired off a message.

Dick: Heads up, I’m bringing Peter and Peni to the Manor today.

Steph: OMG YAY! 😍 I get to hang out with the little spider-kid FINALLY! She’s adorable.

Duke: Wait, the guy that cooked the Riddler at his own game, the train guy? Spider-Man? That Peter?

Dick: Yup. And his little sister.

Tim: Whoa. How’s he doing after the whole train thing? That must’ve been intense.

Dick: He’s fine, just a bit shaken up. Peni’s okay too, though she slept like a rock after everything.

Cass: …He’s coming to the Manor?

Dick: Yeah. Just to check out a few things in the cave. Be cool.

Steph: Oh, you know we’re all gonna freak out a little. It’s Spider-Man, Dick. That’s a big deal!

Jason: So let me get this straight: Spider-Kid saved a train full of Gothamites, and now he’s coming to hang out at our place?

Dick: Yes, Jason. Don’t scare him off.

Jason: I’m not making any promises.

Damian: Why is this necessary? If he’s staying in Gotham, he should be trained properly. Especially if he plans to drag a child around on rooftops.

Dick: Relax, Damian. They’re not joining the team. They’re just staying with me for now.

Duke: Still, that’s awesome. He’s like, what, our age? A meta who actually has his life together? That’s rare.

Tim: I have so many questions for him. Does he make his own webbing? How does his suit work? Is he—

Dick: Calm down, Tim. Don’t bombard him with tech questions the moment he walks in.

Tim: No promises.

Barbara: I’ll make sure everything in the cave is set up. Let me know if there’s anything specific he needs.

Steph: I call dibs on entertaining Peni while you all geek out over Peter. She’s the real star, anyway.

Cass: …What’s he like?

Dick: Peter? He’s a good kid. Smart, quick-witted, kind of awkward. You’ll like him.

Cass: ...

Jason: Cass, you good?

Cass: Fine.

Duke: This is gonna be fun. Can’t wait to meet him properly.

Dick: Alright, just… be nice, okay? He’s been through a lot, and so has Peni. Don’t overwhelm them.

Steph: We’ll behave. Mostly.

Jason: Define “behave.”

Dick: I hate you all sometimes.

Dick put his phone down with a sigh, shaking his head. “I swear, they’re more excited about meeting you than they were about Christmas.”

Peter looked up from where he was tying Peni’s shoes. “I’m not sure if that’s comforting or terrifying.”

Dick laughed. “Don’t worry. They’ll be fine. Probably.”

Peter groaned. “Great. Nothing like a family of vigilantes dissecting your life choices to really put you at ease.”

Peni, completely oblivious to the tension, grinned up at Peter. “Will they like us?”

Peter smiled down at her, ruffling her hair. “They’ll love you, bug. I’m the one they’ll probably interrogate.”

“Yup,” Dick said, smirking. “But hey, you stopped a train. That earns you at least a little slack.”

Peter groaned. “Why does this feel like a bad idea?”

“Relax,” Dick said, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “You survived the Joker. You can survive my family.”

Peter wasn’t so sure.

The drive to Wayne Manor was relatively quiet. Peni was wide awake now, chattering excitedly in the backseat about how she wanted to see more of the Batcave. Peter, sitting beside her, kept glancing nervously out the window, as if second-guessing the entire trip.

“You know,” Peter said, breaking the silence, “I’m pretty good at forging IDs, but meeting a bunch of detectives and geniuses is really testing my confidence. What if they figure out I'm not from here?"

“They won’t,” Dick assured him. “Your IDs are solid. Besides, they’re more interested in you stopping a train with your bare hands than your backstory.”

“Comforting,” Peter muttered.

As they pulled up to the Manor’s gates, Peni gasped, her eyes widening at the sight of the sprawling estate. “Whoa! Is this a castle?” she asked, pressing her face against the window.

“Pretty much,” Dick said with a chuckle as the gates opened. “Welcome to Wayne Manor.”

The sleek black car rolled to a stop in front of the sprawling, gothic expanse of Wayne Manor. Peter glanced up through the windshield, his jaw tightening slightly at the sheer size of the estate. “I feel like I’m about to meet royalty or something,” he muttered, his fingers tapping nervously on his knees.

Peni, sitting beside him, let out an excited squeal. “It’s like a castle! Are there knights?”

Dick chuckled from the driver’s seat. “Not exactly. But there is Alfred. He’s basically the king around here.”

Peter smirked despite his nerves. “King Alfred, huh? Sounds intimidating.”

The car door opened, and Alfred Pennyworth himself stood waiting, his posture impeccable and his expression polite but warm. “Master Grayson,” he greeted, his British accent crisp. His gaze shifted to Peter and Peni, his eyebrow raising slightly in curiosity. “And you must be our guests. Welcome to Wayne Manor.”

Peter climbed out first, offering a slightly awkward smile. “Uh, hi. Thanks for having us, Mr. Pennyworth.”

Alfred’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “Please, call me Alfred. And you must be young Miss Peni.” He crouched slightly to Peni’s level, his tone softening. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear.”

Peni beamed, practically bouncing on her toes. “Hi, Mr. Alfred! Your house is HUGE! Do you have cookies?”

Alfred chuckled, standing upright again. “I’ll see what I can do. Now, if you’ll follow me, the rest of the family is waiting inside.”

As Alfred led the way through the grand double doors, Peter couldn’t help but glance around the foyer, his Spider-Sense tingling faintly—not out of danger, but sheer sensory overload. The marble floors gleamed under the chandelier's light, and the faint scent of old books and polished wood filled the air.

“Wow,” Peter mumbled under his breath. “This place makes Stark Tower look humble.”

Dick grinned, walking beside him. “It has its charm.”

They didn’t get far before the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Steph was the first to appear, sliding to a halt in her socks and practically tackling Peni in a hug.

“Peni!” Steph exclaimed, spinning her around. “You’re here! Oh you’re too precious!”

Peni giggled. “Hi miss! You smell like cookies! Are there cookies?”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “I feel like I should’ve brought snacks or something. She’s obsessed.”

Duke followed shortly after, a wide grin on his face as he approached Peter. “Man, I saw the train thing. You’re insane—in the best way possible. It feels good having another meta around.”

“Uh, thanks?” Peter replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Man, I’ve gotta know—do you have to eat a ton of food to keep up with your metabolism too, or is that just me?”

“Uh, I do, actually,” Peter said, surprised by how quickly Duke latched onto him. “Fast metabolism is definitely part of the package.”

Before Duke could ask more questions, Stephanie practically squealed as she tossed Peni into the air and catching her. “Oh my gosh, look at her! She’s so cute! Hey, kiddo! Wanna show me your webs?”

Peni hesitated, glancing up at Peter, who nodded with a small smile. She grinned back at Steph and shot a small webline, which she used to swing herself up onto a nearby platform. Steph clapped her hands. “She’s a natural! This is adorable. I love her already.”

Cassandra Cain stood off to the side, watching silently as Peter interacted with the others. Her gaze lingered on him longer than she intended, and she quickly looked away when he glanced in her direction. A faint blush crept up her cheeks.

Tim popped out from another doorway, his eyes practically lighting up when he saw Peter. “Spider-Man! I have so many questions about your tech—”

“Tim,” Dick interrupted, giving him a pointed look.

Tim held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, I’ll wait. But seriously, that suit is amazing.”

“Appreciate it,” Peter said, offering a lopsided grin.

Cass appeared again, silently at the edge of the group, her dark eyes watching Peter intently. She gave him a small wave, and Peter returned it with a friendly smile.

From the top of the grand staircase, Jason leaned over the banister, arms crossed. “So this is the kid who stopped the train, huh?” he called down. “He doesn’t look like much.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks. Nice to meet you too.”

Jason smirked, heading down the stairs. “Relax, Bug-Boy. Anyone who can stop a train in Gotham earns a pass from me. For now.”

Damian was the last to appear, stepping into the foyer with his usual stiff demeanor. He gave Peter and Peni a once-over, his expression unreadable. “If you’re going to stay in Gotham, you’ll need to prove yourself,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure stopping a runaway train qualifies.”

Duke clapped him on the shoulder. “Ignore him. He does this with everyone.”

Barbara rolled into the room from a side hall, her gaze immediately landing on Peter. “Welcome to the chaos,” she said, offering him a wry smile. “Don’t worry, it grows on you.”

“Good to know,” Peter replied, glancing around at the assembled group. It was overwhelming, but there was a warmth to the chaos that reminded him—just faintly—of Aunt May’s old apartment when the neighbors would drop by unannounced.

Alfred cleared his throat. “If everyone is done overwhelming our guests, perhaps we can relocate to the sitting room? I’ve prepared refreshments.”

At the mention of food, Peni tugged on Peter’s hand. “Cookies!”

“Alright, alright,” Peter said, chuckling. “Lead the way, Mr. Alfred.”

As they moved deeper into the Manor, Peter couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of comfort and unease. This family was so different from anything he’d ever known, yet somehow, he didn’t feel out of place. For now, that was enough.

After Alfred’s snacks (which Peni declared the best cookies ever), the atmosphere lightened as the family chatted casually. Peter loosened up a bit, finding himself drawn into Duke and Tim’s friendly banter while Peni sat on Steph’s lap, eagerly asking her questions about Gotham.

Eventually, Dick gave Peter a nudge. “Ready for the tour?”

Peter nodded, glancing over at Peni. “You good, squirt?”

Peni beamed. “Uh-huh! Miss Steph says she’s gonna teach me how to do a cartwheel.”

“Just make sure she doesn’t break anything,” Peter said with a smirk, earning a mock-offended gasp from Steph.

Dick then led Peter and Peni down a hidden staircase behind a grandfather clock, the path opening into the cavernous expanse of the Batcave. Peter’s jaw dropped as the dim light revealed an enormous space filled with gadgets, vehicles, and display cases.

“Holy… okay, yeah, this is way cooler than anything I’ve seen in New York.”

Peni ran ahead, her wide eyes darting from the Batmobile to the trophy cases. “Is that a giant penny? And a dinosaur?! This is so cool!”

“Bruce has been collecting for years,” Dick explained with a grin. “It’s a mix of old trophies and memories.”

Peter walked slowly, taking in everything from the infamous Robin suits to the multitude of Bat-gadgets lining the walls. “This guy’s like a mix of Tony Stark and Sherlock Holmes,” he muttered, shaking his head in amazement.

Dick motioned toward a sleek workstation. “Alright, let’s get that DNA test started.”

Peter hesitated for a moment, glancing at Peni, who had climbed onto a chair and was spinning in it gleefully. “You sure about this?”

“It’ll just confirm what you already know,” Dick said reassuringly.

Peter sighed. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

The test itself was quick—just a swab for Peter and a gentle one for Peni, who giggled the whole time. As the machine worked, Peter nervously paced, his arms crossed.

When the results appeared on the screen, both he and Dick froze.

“Huh? It’s a match,” Dick said, his voice quiet with awe. “You and Peni… you’re really siblings.”

Peter blinked, stepping closer to the screen as if it might change if he looked harder. “No way. That’s not… how?” His voice wavered slightly. “I’ve never had a real sibling. I mean, I always wanted one, but…”

Dick put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Family comes in all shapes and sizes. Maybe this is the universe’s way of giving you what you’ve been missing.”

Peter smiled faintly, his eyes glistening. “Yeah. Maybe.” He turned to look at Peni, still swinging her legs happily on her seat. “Guess I’ve got even more reason to protect her now.”

Dick nodded, then leaned against the workstation. “So how do you think this is possible?”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “If I’m from another Earth, is it possible Peni’s an anomaly too? I tried looking her up before I forged our documents, but I never found anything. I mean, she’s basically got the same powers as me, and I doubt Gotham just has radioactive spiders crawling around biting people in their sleep.”

Dick frowned in thought. “It’s possible. Batman's dealt with his share alternate dimensions before. But without more data, it’s hard to say.”

Peter leant himself next to the Bat-computer, the screen’s glowing results confirming what he still struggled to believe: he and Peni shared the same blood. The words Match Found felt surreal, almost like the punchline to a cosmic joke he wasn’t in on.

Peni, who had been swinging her legs cheerfully on the chair, noticed the shift in the room’s energy. Her gaze flitted between Peter and the screen; curiosity etched on her face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly, hopping down and padding over to Peter.

Peter managed a weak smile, crouching to her level. “Nothing’s wrong, squirt. It’s just… well, turns out you and I are really related. Like, for real. You’re my little sister.”

Her big eyes blinked once, then twice, before her face crumpled in a mix of joy and overwhelming emotion. Without warning, she threw her arms around Peter’s chest, squeezing tightly.

Peter froze, startled. “Whoa, hey, Peni—what’s wrong? Why’re you crying?” He crouched further, gently prying her arms loose so he could see her tear-streaked face. “Did I say something wrong?”

Dick stepped closer; concern etched on his face. “Peni?”

Her voice wavered as she spoke, barely above a whisper. “You’re my brother. You’re really my brother.”

Peter’s heart clenched. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected—maybe a sarcastic quip or even a “cool!”—but this? This raw, unfiltered reaction caught him completely off guard.

“I-I mean, yeah, apparently,” Peter stammered, glancing nervously at Dick, who shrugged helplessly. “But that’s a good thing, right?”

Peni sniffled, wiping her face with her sleeve, but her tears kept coming. “I… I lost you once. I don’t want to lose you again.”

Peter’s breath hitched. “What do you mean, again?”

Peni hesitated, clutching the fabric of Peter’s shirt as if afraid he might disappear if she let go. Finally, she whispered, “I didn’t tell you before because… I didn’t want you to think I was crazy. But… I’m not from here. I came from another universe. One where… you were already my brother.”

Peter’s eyes widened, and he instinctively put his hands on her shoulders. “Wait, what? You’re saying… we were siblings there too?”

She nodded, trembling. “You and Mom and Dad… we were happy. But then… the plane crash happened.” Her voice broke, and she buried her face in Peter’s chest. “You all died. I was four.”

Peter felt his stomach drop, his mind spinning. “A plane crash? Like my parents? But—”

“That’s why I trusted you,” Peni cut him off, her words pouring out in a rush. “When I first saw you in Gotham, you looked just like him—like my brother. I thought… I thought maybe it was a miracle.”

Dick shifted uncomfortably, giving the two space but staying within earshot.

“I’ve been so scared,” Peni continued, her tears soaking into Peter’s shirt. “You don’t know how lonely I was. I’ve already lost one brother. I don’t want to lose you too. Please, Peter… don’t die again.”

Peter held her tightly, his own throat thick with emotion. “Hey, hey. I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re stuck with me now.”

She sniffled, pulling back slightly. “I wasn’t always like this, you know. I got bit by a spider when I was in the orphanage. I was sick for days. I thought I was gonna die, but then… I started climbing walls. And swinging. It was scary at first, but then it felt… right.”

Peter nodded, recognizing the familiar story.

“I was supposed to be adopted... by a lady named May”

"May? As in, May Parker?" Peter asked with widened eyes.

Peni choked on her tear as she nodded, “She was supposed to adopt me,” she said, her voice tinged with regret. “She was kind, like the aunt you told me about. But… the day before she came to get me, a portal opened. I fell through, and when I woke up, I was here. In Gotham.”

Peter exchanged a glance with Dick, who looked as though he was filing this information away for later.

Peni continued, her voice growing smaller. “I was alone for a few days. Scared. I didn’t know what to do. There was that scary guy, but then I saw you... You beat him up. I thought maybe… maybe this was my second chance. That’s why I followed you.”

Peter cupped her cheek gently, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “Listen to me, Peni. I don’t know why this happened or how, but you’re not alone anymore. I’m here, okay? You’re my sister, and I’m going to make sure nothing happens to you. Ever.”

Her lip quivered, but she managed a nod. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Peni threw her arms around his neck, holding on as if letting go might shatter this fragile new reality.

As the two embraced, Dick cleared his throat softly. “Well, I think it’s safe to say this universe wanted you two to find each other. And now that you have, you’ve got a whole family here to back you up.”

Peter smirked over Peni’s shoulder. “Thanks, Dick. But, uh… can you give us a sec? I need to talk to Peni a little more.”

Dick gave a mock salute and stepped away, leaving the pair to their moment.

Peter pulled back slightly, looking Peni in the eyes. “So… you’re a Spider too, huh? Guess we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Peni giggled through her tears, and for the first time in a long while, Peter felt like he wasn’t facing the world alone.

Unbeknownst to them, Cassandra had slipped silently into the Batcave, her steps so quiet even Peter’s Spider-Sense didn’t ping. She leaned against a shadowed wall, her dark eyes watching the two with interest. Her sharp mind pieced together what they were discussing.

Another Earth, she thought, her heart racing slightly. Peter wasn’t just a vigilante—he was a mystery. And somehow, that only made her quiet admiration for him grow.

Cass stepped back into the shadows, leaving as silently as she had arrived. For now, she’d keep what she knew to herself.

Back at the workstation, Peter looked over to Dick, his expression a mix of determination and curiosity. “I don’t know how we ended up here or what this means, but Peni’s my responsibility now. I’ll figure out the rest later.”

Dick clapped him on the back. “You’re a good brother, Pete. And don't worry, we’ll figure it out together.”

After the emotional discovery in the Batcave, Peter, Dick, and Peni returned upstairs to the manor’s cozy living room, where the rest of the Bat-family lounged. The mood was light, with Duke and Tim exchanging quips while Steph attempted to teach Peni how to do a backflip.

Peter smiled at the sight, grateful that Peni was already fitting in. He was about to join the group when he noticed Cassandra standing a little ways off, glancing at him.

“Hey, Cass,” Peter said, giving her a warm smile.

Cass’s eyes widened slightly, and she looked away, clearly flustered. “Hi,” she managed to say, her voice softer than usual.

Peter tilted his head, puzzled. “You okay?”

Cass nodded quickly, biting her lip as she tried to find the right words. “You’re… cool,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Peter chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Uh, thanks. You’re pretty cool yourself.”

Cass blinked, her cheeks reddening slightly before she darted away, leaving Peter to shrug in bemusement.

Tim and Barbara later had Peter cornered, eagerly asking to examine his suit and gadgets.

“This material is incredible,” Tim said, running his fingers over the fabric. “It’s so durable but flexible. What is it?”

Peter hesitated, scratching his neck. “Uh… let’s just say it’s a custom polymer blend I cobbled together using some… unconventional resources.”

Barbara raised an eyebrow. “Unconventional?”

Peter grinned. “I call it guerrilla engineering. Basically, I make do with whatever I can get my hands on. Like, my first web shooters? Powered by the motor from an electric toothbrush.”

Tim’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Peter said with a laugh. “I was broke, okay? Had to get creative. Let’s just say there’s nothing quite as humbling as swinging across the city, praying your DIY tech doesn’t give out mid-flight.”

Barbara chuckled. “Well, it clearly paid off. This AI you’ve got— Sp//der, —is brilliant. Did you code it yourself?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, his expression softening. “I had to reverse engineer some stuff; it took me a while to get it right. It’s kind of like a mix of a lab assistant and a Tamagotchi.”

Sp//der let out a loud Beep reminiscent of R2D2, earning a chuckle from the group.

On the other side of the room, Damian was surprisingly engaged in entertaining Peni. He knelt beside her, introducing her to each of his pets.

“This is Alfred the cat,” Damian said, holding up the small, dignified feline. “And Titus, my Great Dane.”

Peni patted Titus’s nose with a giggle. “He’s so big!”

“And this,” Damian said, a rare hint of pride in his voice, “is Bat-Cow.”

Peni’s eyes went wide as the gentle cow mooed softly, wondering how this boy brought a cow inside without her notice. “You have a cow?! She’s so cute!”

Damian smiled faintly. “She’s the best of them all.”

Peni hugged Bat-Cow, her face lighting up with pure joy. “Can I play with her later?”

“We’ll see,” Damian said, his tone softer than usual.

From across the room, Dick leaned over to Peter. “Looks like Peni’s stealing everyone’s hearts.”

Peter grinned, watching as his sister laughed and played with Damian’s pets. “Not surprised. She already had mine the day I first met her.”

For a moment, he allowed himself to relax. Despite the strangeness of their situation, being surrounded by this quirky, tight-knit group almost made Gotham feel like home.

Later that evening, beneath the crumbling remains of an abandoned theatre in Old Gotham, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, stood in the oppressive silence. His cape billowed faintly as he examined the body of a fallen Talon sprawled across the damp floor, its archaic armor glinting in the dim light of his cowl's tactical lenses.

The Talon had been formidable—swift, deadly, and disturbingly resilient. Bruce had fought assassins before, but this one had been different. It had taken every ounce of his skill and strategy to subdue it, and even then, it hadn’t gone down easily.

Batman knelt, carefully peeling back the intricate mask to reveal a pale, lifeless face. Yet, as he shone his flashlight on the body, his sharp eyes caught the faint twitch of a hand.

“Regenerative properties,” he muttered, recording his findings into the Bat-computer. “Enhanced physiology. Cryogenic stasis? It aligns with the rumours of the Court’s methods.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened. The Court of Owls—a shadowy cabal whispered about in nursery rhymes and hushed urban legends—was proving to be more than just myth. Their reach stretched deeper than he’d anticipated, and their willingness to deploy such formidable enforcers posed a threat not only to him but to Gotham as a whole.

He rose, scanning the room for further clues. The theater was one of many properties tied to Gotham’s elite, a clear indication that the Court had roots in the city’s oldest families. The question was: how many of them were complicit?

As he moved deeper into the cavernous space, his gaze fell upon a marble statue of an owl, its talons clutching a globe that bore Gotham’s skyline. Inscribed at its base were the words:

"Our Gotham, Eternal."

“They see themselves as the city’s architects,” Bruce muttered. “And anyone who disrupts their plans is expendable.”

The Court’s existence threatened more than just Gotham’s present—it jeopardized his Gotham Revival Project, an initiative aimed at rejuvenating the city’s most neglected areas. If the Court’s influence ran as deep as he feared, they wouldn’t hesitate to sabotage his efforts to wrest Gotham from their grip.

His comm activated with a faint crackle, Alfred’s voice cutting through the silence.

“Master Bruce, I’ve been monitoring the Bat-computer. The Talon’s armor matches accounts of 17th-century design, and its weaponry is a blend of modern and historical craftsmanship. Fascinating and unsettling in equal measure.”

“They’re protecting something,” Bruce said, his voice grim. “The Court wouldn’t deploy an operative like this unless I was getting too close to something important.”

“Indeed, sir. Though, might I suggest you return to the manor for rest? Even the Bat must sleep.”

Bruce’s lips pressed into a thin line. He had more questions than answers, and the Talon’s presence was a stark reminder that he couldn’t afford to underestimate the Court. Still, Alfred’s reminder carried weight.

“I’ll head back soon,” Bruce said.

Before leaving, he took one last look at the theater, committing every detail to memory. The Court of Owls had operated in the shadows for centuries, but now the shadows were his domain.

As he ascended to the Batmobile, his thoughts turned to what awaited him at home. He assumed the manor would be its usual sanctuary of quiet reflection, with Alfred’s steady presence and perhaps Damian’s brooding company. But as the Batmobile roared through the tunnels toward Wayne Manor, Bruce had no idea that the day’s surprises weren’t over.

For upstairs, the manor was now bustling with energy. Two unexpected guests—one a sharp-witted teenager and the other a spirited young girl—had already left their mark on the Batcave and the family. Bruce’s carefully maintained balance of secrecy and order was about to be upended in ways even he couldn’t anticipate.

Chapter Text

After a long day of laughter, introductions and unexpected revelations, Peter stood in the grand foyer of Wayne Manor, holding Peni’s hand as she yawned and leaned against his side. Dick was leaning casually against the staircase, flanked by Tim and Stephanie, with Damian quietly standing near the shadows, while Cassandra sat silently on the stairs leading to the second floor, watching as Peter stood in the living room, talking to Dick and the others about heading back to Dick's apartment. He seemed determined to leave, brushing off the warmth and comfort the manor offered like it was something unfamiliar to him.

Cass pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them. She didn’t speak much, but she observed everything—the way Peter’s shoulders were tense as he politely refused Dick’s invitation to stay, the way he smiled softly but never quite let his guard down. Even the subtle way his hand brushed over Peni’s hair every few minutes, like he needed reassurance she was still there.

She wanted to tell him to stay. She wanted to say it would be better here, that he and Peni didn’t have to go back to their lonely apartment when the manor had so much space. But every time she opened her mouth, the words refused to come out.

She glanced at Dick, hoping he could see what she couldn’t say. He did.

“Come on, Peter,” Dick said, his voice light and teasing but firm. “Peni loves it here, and you deserve one night where you don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Yeah,” Stephanie chimed in, grinning. “Let Peni swing around with Bat-Cow for a little longer. It’s adorable.”

Tim leaned forward, ever the tactician. “And hey, if you stay, maybe we can talk more about your tech, like, can it be recreated? I absolutely must know!”

Even the usually aloof Damian chimed in, “The manor is secure. Safer than Dick's apartment. If you’re truly concerned about her wellbeing, staying here is the logical choice.”

Peter hesitated, looking around at the group, clearly overwhelmed by the attention.

Cass felt her heart clench. She knew he was scared to rely on others—she recognized that guarded look all too well. It was the same expression she had worn when she first came to the manor, unsure if she belonged. She wanted to tell him it was okay, that they wouldn’t abandon him, that they already saw him as one of their own.

But instead, she stayed quiet, biting her lip.

Finally, Dick pressed his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You don’t have to decide right now. Just stay tonight. Let Peni have a fun night, and you can make up your mind in the morning.”

Peter sighed, glancing down at Peni, who was tugging on his sleeve. “Can we stay, Peter? Please?”

Cass watched as Peter melted at his sister’s request, nodding reluctantly.

“Fine,” he said with a small, tired smile. “One night.”

The group erupted into cheers, and Cass felt her chest loosen. She didn’t need to say anything after all. Peni had done it for her.

As Peter picked up Peni and let her rest her head on his shoulder, Cass watched him closely. He belonged here. She knew it. And if she couldn’t tell him that now, maybe she could show him in time.

Peter looked around at the expectant faces. Even Damian gave a slight nod of agreement.

“Okay, okay,” Peter said, throwing a hand up in defeat. “We’ll stay for tonight. But just for tonight.”

“Victory!” Stephanie cheered, making Peni giggle.

While Peter was initially hesitant, he and Peni quickly adjusted to the luxury of Wayne Manor, their first evening spent indulging in the kind of comforts they had never experienced before. Despite the grandeur of their surroundings, the Bat-family made them feel welcome, creating an atmosphere that blended high-tech elegance with slice-of-life charm. One of the first things they did was drag the spider-duo to their movie lounge.

It was still light out as the family gathered in the expansive lounge, the towering bookshelves and crackling fireplace providing a cozy backdrop. Alfred had prepared popcorn in ornate silver bowls, and Peni claimed a seat on the enormous couch beside Stephanie and Cass.

“We’re watching The Iron Giant tonight,” Dick announced, holding up the DVD case.

“Good choice,” Peter said, settling in. “Giant robots and heartfelt stories? I’m in.”

As the movie played, Peni clung to Peter’s arm, eyes wide with wonder. Cass sat quietly, sneaking glances at Peter every now and then, her small smile hidden behind her hand.

When the film’s emotional climax hit, even Damian looked a bit misty-eyed, though he quickly excused himself to “check on Bat-Cow.”

Later, in the manor’s game room, Tim set up a tournament on the Bat-family’s favorite party game, Super Smash Bros.

“I call dibs on Fox!” Tim exclaimed, insta-locking his character.

“Pfft, okay buddy.” Peter said as he grabbed the controller, hovering his icon over Diddy Kong.

“You're all getting your asses kicked!” Jason sneered, selecting Snake with a competitive glint in his eye.

The match descended into chaos, with Peni’s Pikachu unexpectedly dominating the field. “Zap! Zap!” she cheered, sending Peter’s Diddy Kong flying off the stage.

“I taught her that,” Peter quipped, laughing as he watched her celebrate her victory.

The next stop was Wayne Manor’s massive library, where Peter marveled at the endless rows of books. All housing signed first editions from various writers, given to the Wayne family.

“This place makes the New York Public Library look like a convenience store,” he said, running his hand along a shelf.

Peni tugged at his sleeve, holding up a picture book. “Can we read this one?”

Dick found them a while later, sprawled on one of the plush reading chairs, Peter animatedly narrating Where the Wild Things Are to Peni, who hung on his every word. Alfred appeared as if on cue, gesturing toward the stairs. “If you’ll follow me, Master Peter, Miss Peni, your rooms are ready.”

As Peter picked Peni up, her arms wrapped around his neck, he smiled. “Thanks, Alfred. You’ve been really great to us.”

“It is my pleasure, sir,” Alfred replied warmly. “And might I add, you’re not the first reluctant guest Master Dick has persuaded to stay.”

Peter chuckled as he carried Peni upstairs, feeling, for the first time in a long time, like he could let his guard down—even if just a little.

Around midnight, Peter found Peni sneaking toward the kitchen, her tiny footsteps barely audible on the polished floor.

“Hungry?” he asked, catching up to her.

Peni nodded sheepishly. “I wanted cookies and milk.”

Alfred appeared, seemingly out of nowhere again, carrying a tray of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. “Master Peter, Miss Peni, I had a feeling you might be peckish.”

As they sat in the kitchen munching on cookies, Peni asked Alfred endless questions about the manor’s history. Peter grinned, grateful for the moment of normalcy.

Gotham City, July 24, 20XX

Peter woke up to the unfamiliar but comfortable surroundings of Wayne manor. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of his guest room, and Peni was still asleep in the bed across from him, bundled up in a mountain of blankets. After ensuring she was okay, he slipped downstairs to find the kitchen, figuring he could make breakfast to thank everyone for their hospitality.

He didn’t expect to find the Bruce Wayne sitting at the long dining table, already dressed in a crisp suit, sipping coffee and reading the morning paper. Alfred was nearby, setting down a plate of croissants.

Bruce glanced up, his piercing blue eyes locking onto Peter’s with an intensity that caught him off guard, setting off a mild buzz to his spider-senses. “You must be Peter Parker.”

Peter hesitated, then gave a sheepish smile. “Uh, yeah. And you’re... Bruce Wayne.”

Bruce folded the newspaper neatly, setting it aside. “Dick mentioned you and your sister stayed the night. I’ve been away on business, so I wasn’t here to welcome you.”

Peter nodded, stepping into the room cautiously. “Yeah, thanks for letting us stay. It’s a great place you’ve got here. Pretty much a palace.”

Bruce chuckled softly, gesturing toward a chair. “Please, sit. Alfred will bring breakfast. You don’t have to worry about anything here.”

Peter hesitated but eventually sat down. “I, uh, didn’t mean to crash here. Dick kind of insisted.”

Bruce studied him carefully, his expression unreadable. “Dick has good instincts about people. And from what I’ve heard, you’ve had a busy couple of days.”

Peter shrugged awkwardly. “Just trying to help out.”

“You outsmarted the Riddler,” Bruce said, leaning forward slightly. “That’s no small feat.”

Peter scratched the back of his neck, his Spidey sense tingling faintly—not out of danger, but from the sheer weight of Bruce’s aura. “I just like solving puzzles, I guess.”

Bruce’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “It’s more than that. Dick mentioned the train incident as well. You have skill... and strength.”

Peter froze for a split second, but Bruce didn’t press further.

“I also heard you’re taking care of your little sister,” Bruce continued. “That’s admirable. Not many people your age would take on that kind of responsibility.”

Peter relaxed slightly, smiling. “She’s a great kid. Honestly, she might be the one thing keeping me together at this point.”

Bruce nodded thoughtfully, pausing for a moment. “You remind me of someone I used to know. Someone who put others before himself, even when it was difficult.”

Before Peter could respond, footsteps echoed down the hall.

Jason entered the room, arms crossed. “Whoa, hold up,” he said, smirking. “Why do I get the feeling I know where this conversation is going.”

“Jason,” Bruce warned, his tone calm but firm.

“What?” Jason shrugged. “I’m just saying, we’ve already got enough strays. No more Robins.”

Peter blinked, confused, but Bruce sighed.

“Jason,” Bruce said, turning his attention back to Peter. “I don’t know all the details, but it seems you’ve already made an impression on my family. If there’s anything you need while you’re here, you only have to ask.”

Peter nodded slowly, still processing the odd exchange. “Thanks, Mr. Wayne. That means a lot.”

“Call me Bruce,” he replied.

Just then, Peni padded into the room, rubbing her eyes and clutching a stuffed animal Damian had given her the night before. “Peter?” she mumbled sleepily.

Peter immediately got up, crouching to her level. “Morning, kiddo. You sleep well?”

She nodded, then noticed Bruce, blinking curiously. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Mr. Wayne,” Peter explained. “He owns this place.”

Peni tilted her head. “You’re rich?”

Bruce smiled faintly. “I suppose I am.”

“You have a cool house,” she said matter-of-factly, then yawned.

Jason chuckled. “I like her.”

Bruce’s gaze softened as he looked at Peni, then shifted back to Peter. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps recognition of the responsibility Peter bore, or admiration for how he carried it.

As Alfred entered with plates of pancakes and fruit, the moment passed, but Bruce’s mind was already turning. There was more to Peter Parker and his sister than met the eye. And he intended to find out what.

Later that morning, as the manor quieted down, Dick found Peter on the balcony outside his temporary room. The city lights twinkled in the distance, but Peter seemed lost in his own thoughts, leaning on the railing with a soft breeze ruffling his hair.

“Hey, Pete,” Dick began, his tone cautious.

Peter glanced over his shoulder. “What’s up?”

Dick rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating. “I, uh, just wanted to say I’m sorry for telling Bruce about the train and Spider-Man. I didn’t mean to betray your trust; I just thought he needed to know for your safety and Peni’s.”

Peter turned fully, offering a small smile. “It’s okay, really. I mean, I figured Bruce was Batman pretty quickly after I got here.”

Dick blinked. “You… did?”

Peter chuckled. “Come on, Dick. You’re Nightwing, everyone in this house are vigilantes, and Bruce is… well, Bruce. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. The way he carries himself, the way you talk about him. Plus, the giant Batcave under the house kind of gave it away.”

Dick laughed, relieved. “Fair point.”

Before the conversation could continue, Bruce stepped out onto the balcony, his presence commanding as always. “Peter. A word?”

Peter straightened, glancing at Dick. “Sure. But only if Dick stays.”

Bruce nodded, respecting the condition.

The three of them moved into Bruce’s study, the heavy wooden doors closing behind them. Bruce gestured for Peter to sit, and after a moment’s hesitation, Peter complied.

Bruce leaned forward; hands clasped. “I’ve gathered enough to know you’re not from this world. You and Peni are… different.”

Peter sighed, glancing at Dick, who gave him an encouraging nod. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m from another universe. I don’t know how or why I ended up here, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

Bruce’s expression didn’t change, though his curiosity was evident in his sharp gaze. “Tell me about your world. About who you are.”

Peter hesitated, then began to talk. He spoke about New York, its towering skyscrapers and constant energy. About his life as Spider-Man, how he got his powers, and the heroes and villains that shaped his journey. He recounted Uncle Ben’s death and the lesson it taught him. He faltered as he mentioned Gwen and Aunt May, their lives stolen by the Green Goblin.

“The Green Goblin?” Bruce questioned as he raised an eyebrow, “Was he one of your rouges?”

“No, more like a total nightmare.”

Peter hesitated as he recounted the story in Bruce’s private study. Dick sat nearby, offering quiet support as Peter’s voice wavered.

“He wasn’t like most of the other villains I’ve fought,” Peter admitted, his hands clasped tightly together. “Norman Osborn was a genius, a businessman, and… a monster. He didn’t just attack me as Spider-Man—he went after the people I cared about. Gwen. Aunt May. He made it personal.”

Bruce’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “And you stopped him.”

Peter nodded, but his gaze dropped to the floor. “I did. But not the way I wanted to. He died. I didn’t mean for it to happen… but it did.”

Bruce leaned back in his chair, processing the revelation. “A villain who weaponizes the personal connections of their enemies. A calculated, obsessive mind with no regard for collateral damage.” He paused, his voice low. “He sounds like the Joker.”

Peter looked up, his eyes wide. “Yeah… yeah, he kind of was. He pushed me to the edge, made me question everything. And when it was over… I wasn’t sure who I was anymore.”

Bruce studied Peter carefully, recognizing the weight of guilt in the young man’s voice. “You were a teenager, fighting a man with years of experience and resources far beyond your own. You made a choice in the heat of battle to protect others. That doesn’t make you a killer—it makes you human.”

Peter blinked, surprised by the absolution in Bruce’s words.

“I know what it’s like to face an enemy who thrives on fear and chaos,” Bruce continued. “But you survived. You kept going. That takes strength.”

Dick chimed in, offering a reassuring grin. “And you’re still here, Peter. Still doing good, still helping people. That’s what matters.”

Peter managed a small smile, the weight on his shoulders feeling just a bit lighter.

Bruce nodded. “If the Green Goblin’s legacy was to break you, then your survival—and the good you continue to do—is the ultimate victory.”

The room fell silent for a moment before Bruce added, “If you ever want to talk about it—or any of the others you’ve faced—you know where to find me.”

Peter glanced at Dick, who gave him a thumbs-up. Turning back to Bruce, he nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

In that moment, Peter realized he wasn’t just being offered a place in the Bat-Family—he was being given something far more valuable: understanding.

Bruce continued his questioning, making sure to keep his tone light as to not scare the boy in front of him too much; he asked what made Peter become a hero in the first place.

Peter hesitated for a moment, sitting in Bruce’s study, before softly saying, “There’s something Uncle Ben used to tell me. It’s stuck with me, shaped everything I’ve done since I put on the mask.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed slightly, curious.

“With great power,” Peter began, his voice steady, “comes great responsibility.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Bruce’s expression shifted, a flicker of something behind his usual stoicism—respect, maybe, or recognition. He leaned back slightly in his chair, the weight of the words settling over him like a familiar shadow.

“That’s… a powerful creed,” Bruce finally said, his tone contemplative. “It’s simple, but it carries the weight of everything we do. Your uncle was a wise man.”

Peter nodded. “It’s what keeps me going, even when things get tough. When I think about all the people I couldn’t save… it reminds me why I have to keep trying.”

Bruce’s gaze turned distant, his mind no doubt returning to his own losses. “It’s not easy to carry that kind of responsibility, especially at your age. Many adults—many heroes—spend years struggling to understand the balance of power and duty. The fact that you’ve already embraced it speaks volumes.”

Peter shrugged lightly. “I don’t know if it’s wisdom or just stubbornness. Uncle Ben believed in me, and I can’t let him down.”

Bruce nodded, a faint glimmer of approval in his eyes. “You won’t. You already carry that responsibility better than most people twice your age.”

He paused, leaning forward slightly. “That philosophy, Peter, is what separates people like you from people like Norman Osborn—or like the criminals I deal with in Gotham. They see power as something to take and wield for themselves. But you see it as a responsibility to others. That’s rare… and it’s what makes you someone worth believing in.”

Peter blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. “Uh, thanks… I guess.”

Bruce stood, placing a hand lightly on Peter’s shoulder. “And for what it’s worth, I think your Uncle Ben would be proud of the man you’re becoming.”

Peter smiled, the words settling deeply in his chest. “Thanks, Mr. Wayne.”

“Bruce,” he corrected gently.

“Right,” Peter said, his grin widening slightly. “Thanks, Bruce.”

“One last thing, Peter.” Bruce studied him for a long moment before asking, “Do you plan on going back to your world?”

Peter blinked, startled. He hadn’t really thought about it. “I don’t know. I mean, what would I go back to? Everyone important to me is… gone. But here, I have Peni. I can protect her. Start over.”

Bruce nodded, his expression softening slightly. “Then stay. Join our family. You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

Peter’s gaze dropped to the floor, conflicted. After a moment, he nodded. “Okay. we'll stay.”

Bruce smiled at Peter’s response, turning his gaze to Dick. Nothing was said between the two, just gave a nod of mutual understanding. Dick stood up from his seat with an excited grin, heading towards Alfred in the kitchen.

Later that day, the Bat-Family sprang into action to make Peter and Peni feel at home with the best ‘Welcome to the Family’ party they could prepare.

In the spacious dining room, decorations were hastily thrown together by Stephanie and Duke, with Tim and Dick helping arrange snacks. Cass set the table, sneaking glances at Peter whenever he wasn’t looking.

Damian reintroduced Peni to every single one of his pets. She squealed in delight when she met Bat-Cow again, declaring the bovine with a bat-symbol as her favorite.

When Peter entered with Bruce, the family erupted into cheers.

“Welcome to the madhouse!” Steph exclaimed, throwing her arms around Peter, who chuckled awkwardly.

“You’ll get used to it,” Duke said, grinning as he handed Peter a soda.

Bruce, now standing in the corner with Alfred, watched the scene unfold with a rare, faint smile.

As the evening went on, Peter found himself laughing and relaxing in a way he hadn’t since he got bitten by that spider. He realized he wasn’t just staying for Peni anymore. He was staying because, for the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged.

And that was something he wasn’t willing to let go of.

As the welcome party reached its midpoint, Peter stood up, clearing his throat. The Bat-Family, scattered around the room in various stages of relaxation, turned their attention to him. Peni, munching on a cookie next to Damian, gave him a thumbs-up for encouragement.

“Hey, everyone,” Peter began, a little awkward but steady. “I just wanted to say thanks for, well, all of this. It means a lot to me and Peni. You guys have been truly amazing.”

The family responded with smiles and cheers, Steph even raising her drink in a toast.

“But, uh… there’s something I need to tell you all. Something important.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “I haven’t been entirely honest about where Peni and I came from.”

A hush fell over the room.

Peter took a deep breath. “We’re not from this world. I mean, literally. We came from another dimension.”

Tim’s eyes widened as he leaned forward, his analytical brain immediately kicking into overdrive. “Another dimension? Like… multiverse theory? Parallel worlds? That’s incredible! How did you get here? Is there a way back? What’s your world like?!”

Barbara’s curiosity mirrored Tim’s, but she tempered it with caution. “That’s… a lot to process. But it explains some of the inconsistencies Dick mentioned about your background. You’re seriously from a whole other Earth?”

Damian's brow furrowed as he crossed his arms. “This isn’t some elaborate ruse, is it? I’ve heard stories of alternate dimensions from father, but to meet someone who claims to be from one…”

Peni interrupted with an enthusiastic nod. “It’s true! Peter’s been taking care of me since we got here. He’s the best big brother ever!”

Cassandra didn’t speak, but her eyes widened slightly, she had already known about it, but now she got to hear him admit it himself. She smiled to herself, Peter was beginning to trust them and open up about his life. Cass felt a small thump in her chest as she listened.

Duke grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Dude, you’re from another world, and you’re still one of the most down-to-earth people I’ve met. That’s pretty cool.”

Jason snorted, raising an eyebrow. “Figures the new guy has to come with a tragic, reality-bending backstory. Can’t just be a normal kid, huh?” Despite his sarcasm, there was no malice in his tone.

Steph’s jaw dropped. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me you’re a superhero from another world? That’s so cool! Do you have, like, alien tech or something?!”

Alfred, ever the composed one, simply nodded. “This certainly explains a great many things. Rest assured, Master Peter, you are no less welcome here because of it.”

Peter recounted his life on his Earth, (hopefully for the last time): his origins as Spider-Man, the loss of Uncle Ben, Aunt May, and Gwen, and some of the villains he’s faced. He explained how he and Peni ended up in this dimension and how he’d been trying to make a new life for them.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get back,” Peter admitted. “But honestly, I don’t think I want to. Peni’s my priority now. And… for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’ve got a family again.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

Dick stepped forward, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You’re not just staying here, Peter. You and Peni are part of this family now.”

Steph raised her drink again. “To our new spider siblings!”

Jason rolled his eyes, “Ya know, normally I’d be against Bruce adopting more kids, but I’ll make a ‘multiversal-exception’ just this once.”

The others echoed the toast, even Damian offering a begrudging nod.

Peni beamed, tugging on Peter’s sleeve. “Told you they’d be cool!”

Cass, standing quietly nearby, finally found her voice. “Stay. Please.”

Peter smiled, feeling a warmth he hadn’t experienced in years. “Yeah. We will.”

As laughter and chatter resumed, Bruce watched from the doorway, his arms crossed. For the first time in a while, he allowed himself a small, genuine smile. The Bat-Family had just gained two remarkable new members, and he couldn’t be prouder.

Suddenly, Barbara and Tim’s heads shot up, shouting in unison,

“Wait, if you came from another world, what data were we using when we ran your background?”

“Oh, I asked Sp//der to forge some documents for me. Sorry if I sent you two on a wild goose chase.” Peter replied, the two bats stared in bewilderment.

“So wait, does this mean you actually did go to school then?” Tim stammered out, getting a playful grin from Peter.

“Yeah, I was actually preparing for university before I ended up in Gotham.” He replied, Tim sighed as he face palmed himself.

Later that evening, as the Bat-Family dispersed from the welcome party, Alfred entered Bruce’s study, his impeccable posture and calm demeanor masking the weight of the documents he carried. He placed the neatly stacked papers on Bruce’s desk.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred said, his tone warm but formal, “if I may interrupt, I’ve taken the liberty of preparing the necessary paperwork for the adoption of Master Peter and Miss Peni. I trust you will find everything in order.”

Bruce glanced at the papers, his jaw tightening just slightly, though not in hesitation. He picked them up, flipping through the neatly arranged documents. “You’re always a step ahead, Alfred.”

“It’s a habit born from necessity, sir,” Alfred replied with a faint smile. “Master Peter and Miss Peni may not say it aloud, but they’ve already begun seeing this place as home. I believe formalizing their place in this family would serve them well.”

Bruce nodded. “They’re exceptional kids. Peter’s resourcefulness, his intellect, his heart—he’s already earned his place here. And Peni… she’s got a light about her that Gotham could use more of.”

“As you’ve often said, sir, every family has room for one—or two—more.”

Bruce let out a quiet chuckle before signing the first few pages. “Thanks, Alfred. I’ll handle the rest.”

The Next Morning ( July 25)

After breakfast, Bruce called Tim, Cass, Steph, and Duke into the lounge, where they all sat, sipping coffee or tea. He had decided to talk to them before breaking the news to Peter.

“I have something to discuss with all of you,” Bruce began, setting his coffee cup down on the table. “Peter and Peni will be staying with us permanently. I’ve started the process to make it official. Peter’s forged documents were impressive—enough to use for the guardianship paperwork. But with his skills, it’s time to integrate him more into the real world.”

Tim leaned forward, intrigued. “You’re enrolling him in school, aren’t you?”

Bruce nodded. “With you, Cass, Steph, and Duke. He’s already proven himself highly intelligent and resourceful, and I think Gotham Academy could benefit from his perspective. You’ll all be in a position to help him adjust.”

Steph grinned. “So, Peter Parker as our new classmate? I’m so in! He’s sharp, and he’s funny. Plus, I get to see how good he is at math compared to Tim.”

Duke laughed. “It’ll be cool to have another meta around. I bet he’s got a lot of stories. I’ll make sure he knows the cafeteria secrets and all that.”

Cass remained quiet, her face a mix of excitement and nervousness. She glanced at Bruce and then nodded, her way of agreeing.

Tim was already scribbling notes in his tablet. “I’m happy to help. And I’m curious about how Peter will handle Gotham Academy’s STEM programs. Maybe I can pick his brain more this way, too.”

“Just don’t overwhelm him,” Bruce warned. “This is going to be an adjustment for both him and Peni. I also expect all of you to make sure she’s comfortable.”

Steph raised her hand playfully. “Dibs on showing her where the best juice boxes are stashed.”

Bruce smirked slightly. “I’ll leave that in your capable hands.”

Duke leaned back, grinning. “Guess that makes it official. Peter and Peni are about to be real Waynes, huh? This family just got even more interesting.”

Bruce left the lounge, leaving the others buzzing with ideas about how to introduce Peter to their world. Meanwhile, Alfred discreetly added a small tray of cookies for Peni to enjoy later—his own subtle welcome to the newest members of the Wayne family.

Chapter Text

Gotham City, August 1, 20XX

A couple days have passed since Peter and Peni’s arrival at the manor. He was a little surprised with how quickly the two of them acclimated to the new environment.

Peter stared at himself in the mirror, frowning as he adjusted the collar of the perfectly pressed Gotham Academy uniform. He hated it. The stiff blazer, the button-up shirt, the khaki pants—it was all too formal for him. He was used to his Spider-Man suit, which was way more comfortable, and his old casual clothes from Queens. But no, Gotham Academy had rules.

"Great," Peter muttered. "A teenager who’s still wearing a school uniform. This is definitely not what I imagined my first day of high school would be like."

He glanced over at Peni, who was already bundled up in her school outfit, looking surprisingly adorable in a little pleated skirt and sweater.

"At least you look cute," Peter said, ruffling her hair. "I look like I’m going to a corporate meeting."

Peni giggled, flashing him a grin. "You look nice, big bro."

"Thanks, kiddo," Peter grumbled, pulling on his backpack. "But ‘nice’ doesn’t exactly scream ‘cool superhero.’"

Alfred knocked on the door. "Master Peter, Miss Peni, are we ready for our first day?"

Peter sighed. "Yeah, we’re ready." He shot a look at Peni, who bounced on her heels, clearly excited. Peter wasn’t nearly as thrilled, but he kept a smile on his face for her.

Peter entered Gotham Academy, his nerves immediately kicking in as he walked through the front gate. The sprawling campus was immaculate, students buzzing around in their uniforms. His sneakers felt out of place against the polished floors, the sound of his footsteps too loud.

As soon as Peter entered the class, there was a murmur of recognition.

“Hey, aren’t you Peter Parker? The kid who outsmarted the Riddler on live TV?” one kid asked.

Peter froze. He had hoped that people might forget about that incident, but clearly, it had made quite an impression. He forced a smile.

“Um, yeah, that’s me,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, uh, let’s just focus on class, okay?”

Of course, the rumors spread like wildfire. By the time he sat down, half the class was already whispering about him.

“I heard he’s a genius. Maybe he’s got a photographic memory,” one whispered.

“Do you think he’s friends with Batman? Or Spider-Man?” another asked.

"He's kinda cute, actually. You think he's single?" another girl chimed in.

Peter tried to ignore it as he took his seat next in between Tim and Cass. Tim greeted him with a smirk.

“Nice to see you made it, Peter,” Tim said. “Don’t mind them; they’re just impressed by your brain and your ability to outwit Gotham’s finest criminals. No big deal.”

Peter glared at Tim. “Tell me about it. It’s like I’m a celebrity now.”

Cass grinned at Peter, offering a wave. She was too flustered to speak to him first thing in the morning, so she signed in ASL instead.

<Don’t worry,> she signed, <You’ll get used to it. Just stick with us, and it’ll be fine.>

Peter appreciated the kindness, and signed back with a small gesture,

<Thanks.> Cassandra’s eyes widened, and her cheeks tinged pink, she hadn’t expected Peter to know ASL, she felt her heart thump even louder than before.

Despite his friends' support, it didn’t stop the weird feeling settling in Peter’s stomach. Everyone knew him as the kid who beat the Riddler. The pressure was already getting to him, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on him. The whispers hadn’t stopped since he entered, and his attempt to blend in was clearly a lost cause. Just as he was starting to zone out, Mr. Walker, the teacher, announced something that made the class fall silent.

“Well, well,” Mr. Walker said, raising an eyebrow. “It seems the next Wayne charity case has been assigned to my class, again. Parker, the boy who outsmarted the Riddler. I suppose we should put that brain of yours to the test.”

Peter winced, knowing exactly where this was going.

“You’re good with puzzles, aren’t you?” Mr. Walker asked, turning toward the whiteboard. “How about you solve this for us?”

Peter's heart sank. The board was filled with a complex calculus problem—something out of a university-level textbook. It was the sort of thing that would normally leave Peter stumped if he weren’t so accustomed to thinking in quick, high-pressure situations. Still, it was hard to be confident when the whole class was watching, especially with the teacher looking to make an example of him.

Mr. Walker turned to the class. “Let’s see if the new kid is really all they say he is,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Go ahead, Parker. Show us what you’ve got.”

Peter took a deep breath, trying to block out the murmurs behind him. His mind whirred as he looked at the equation. It wasn’t impossible. In fact, it was a lot like the kinds of challenges he’d faced with his tech and Spider-Man skills. But still, it was intimidating. Peter got up from his chair and made his way towards the whiteboard.

“I’ll give it a try,” Peter said, though his voice was a little unsure.

He picked up the marker, hesitating for a moment as the eyes of the class bored into him. He tried to recall the math, piece it together in his head, but he could already hear Mr. Walker muttering under his breath, expecting him to fail.

“Well, Parker,” Mr. Walker said, tapping his fingers on the desk, “if you can’t solve it, we’ll have to have a little chat about your expectations here at Gotham Academy. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to disappoint us, would you?”

That little challenge was enough to light a fire under Peter. He had to admit, the idea of being dismissed so easily irritated him more than it should. So, he set to work.

He moved quickly, solving for the variables with ease, but instead of rushing through the whole problem, he took a moment to make sure the class could follow along. He explained the process step-by-step, breaking down each part of the equation like it was a puzzle—something Peter was very good at.

“I’m using the chain rule here,” Peter explained, under his breath, more to himself than the class. “Then you distribute… and use the inverse function...”

Mr. Walker raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting Peter to falter at some point. But Peter was locked in now, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. It wasn’t just about speed; it was about making sure he didn’t miss anything.

Tim nudged Cass, whispering in her ear, “Looks like Peter's gonna be pretty popular.”

Cass nodded silently, watching intently.

Finally, after a few moments, Peter stepped back from the board and looked over the equation. He turned back to Mr. Walker.

“Done,” Peter said with a grin, though he was still trying to play it cool.

The class was silent for a moment, staring at the board. Even Mr. Walker was taken aback.

“Well…” Mr. Walker hesitated, then checked the answer. “It’s right.”

The class erupted into murmurs.

“Whoa!” one student said. “I didn’t think he could actually do it.”

Mr. Walker’s face twitched. Peter could tell he didn’t expect the answer to be right, and the teacher’s expression quickly shifted from smugness to frustration.

“Alright, alright, Parker,” Mr. Walker said with a dismissive wave, though it was clear he was trying to cover up his surprise. “I suppose it’s not that impressive. But I’ll tell you what is—punctuality. Next time, let’s try not to make a scene. And let’s see if you can keep up with the rest of the class.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t—”

“Next time,” Mr. Walker cut him off, “you’ll stay in your seat and wait until you’re called upon to answer. I don’t appreciate being interrupted by some show-off answer in front of everyone.”

Peter blinked, trying to process what just happened. He had solved the problem in front of the class—and done it faster than anyone expected—and now he was being reprimanded for it.

“Whatever,” Peter muttered under his breath, “I wasn’t trying to show off.”

But Mr. Walker was already moving on to the next topic, clearly embarrassed that his little stunt hadn’t gone as planned.

Peter was quietly fuming in his seat, trying to focus on the rest of the lesson. Tim leaned over, a small smirk on his face.

“Hey, I saw what you did there,” Tim whispered. “You totally outplayed him.”

Peter shook his head. “I didn’t mean to make a scene. But I guess that’s what happens when your teacher tries to make you look bad. Damned Parker luck.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Tim said. “It’ll be forgotten by next week.”

Cass, who had been silently watching, gestured for the boys to see. <You’re smart. He didn’t like it.>

Peter smiled at her and shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’d rather not be the center of attention.”

“That’s the fun part about being you,” Tim teased. “Just try not to make any more math teachers cry, alright?”

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’ll try. But no promises.”

Across the room, Mr. Walker was still muttering to himself. Peter’s reputation, it seemed, was already on the line.

While Peter was annoyed, he couldn't deny that being back in school felt good. After a few more classes, lunch time had arrived. Tim, Steph, Cass and Duke sat at their usual table in the bustling cafeteria, dragging Peter along to their table. The room buzzed with energy as students shuffled between tables, balancing trays laden with surprisingly decent school food. The five of them had claimed the corner table near the windows, slightly tucked away from the main hustle and bustle, but not far enough to escape the curious glances of their peers. It hadn’t taken long for Peter’s association with the Wayne family to become the topic of whispered conversations throughout the school.

As Peter took a bite of his sandwich, a girl from a nearby table approached, her smile overly wide and polished. "Hey, Peter, right?" she said, leaning slightly on their table. "I heard you’re, like, staying with the Waynes. That must be so amazing. What’s it like living in a mansion?"

Peter blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Uh, yeah, it’s… big?"

Cass looked up from her juice, her sharp gaze locking onto the girl, making her take a small step back.

Steph stifled a snicker behind her hand while Tim gave Peter a raised eyebrow that said, Good luck with this one.

Before Peter could fumble out a polite response, another student—a boy this time—sidled up. "Hey, Parker. I heard you aced Mr. Walker's physics quiz. That guy’s tests are brutal. Maybe you could tutor me sometime?" His tone was casual, but the way he glanced at Tim suggested he was trying to score points by association.

Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing at Cass, who was now watching the interactions with faint amusement. "Uh, I’m kind of busy with classes and stuff… Maybe later?"

"Sure, no problem," the boy said quickly, though his smile faltered when Cass leaned slightly forward, her quiet presence somehow commanding.

Steph, clearly enjoying the show, decided to intervene. "Alright, people, break it up. Peter’s got all the friends he needs right here. You can take a number and wait in line like everyone else."

The first girl scoffed, muttering something under her breath as she walked away, and the boy gave a half-hearted wave before retreating to his table.

Peter sighed, slumping slightly in his chair. "Does this happen a lot? Or is this just my new normal now?"

Duke laughed. "Welcome to Gotham Academy, where everyone’s either trying to network or marry into money."

Tim smirked. "You’re the new kid, staying at Wayne Manor, and you’re hanging out with us. You’re basically the school’s new mystery obsession."

Peter groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Great. There goes my peaceful high school life."

Cass, sitting quietly next to him, reached out and lightly nudged his shoulder. "Ignore them," she whispered softly into Peter's ear, causing his cheeks to redden slightly, which the others didn't fail to notice, all letting a sly smirk spread across their faces as they eyed the two oblivious teens.

Peter glanced at her, her calm expression easing some of his tension. He smiled faintly. "Thanks, Cass."

Steph, still grinning, leant forward. "On the bright side, you’ve got a solid group here. You survive us, and you’ll survive Gotham Academy."

Peter laughed, the tension melting away. "Yeah, you’re probably right. But if anyone asks about the manor again, I’m saying it’s haunted."

Cass gave him a small but genuine smile, her quiet support speaking louder than words.

Around them, the other students continued to glance over occasionally, but Peter chose to ignore it, focusing instead on the people who had already made this new chapter in his life a little easier to handle.

After a couple hours the school day had finally ended. The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Peter was ready to get out of there, though he knew it was just the beginning of a much larger adjustment. Tim gave him a small pat on the back.

“You did great, man,” Tim said. “Just keep yourt lie to himself that being back in school actually felt good, nostalgic even. He just hoped Peni was having a good time in 1^st grade.

A head down for a bit. It’ll get easier.”

“Yeah,” Peter sighed. “Thanks. I just… I didn’t expect my first day of school to feel like this. Gotham really does have a lot of eyes on you.”

Cass gave him a smile as they headed out of the classroom, signing; <You’ll get used to it. And you’ve got us to watch your back.>

Peter couldn’t help but smile. Despite the rough start, he was beginning to feel like he might actually belong here.

The late afternoon sun casts long shadows as the sleek black car drives through the streets of Gotham, the engine humming smoothly under Alfred’s careful hands. In the backseat, Peter, Peni, Cass, Steph, Duke, Tim and Damian are squeezed together, with Tim and Duke both looking mildly disgruntled about the space, eye Dick in the front passenger seat with his extra leg room.

Alfred, ever the picture of grace, glances in the rearview mirror, catching Peni’s enthusiastic expression. "How was your first day, Miss Peni?" he asks, his tone warm and slightly teasing, though there’s an underlying fondness in his voice.

Peni can barely contain her excitement, bouncing in her seat. “It was the best! I made a new friend, and we got to paint! I didn’t even get in trouble!” She beams proudly, clearly pleased with her accomplishments.

“That’s great, Peni,” Steph responds from the front, giving the girl an approving smile. “Did you get to show off your web-slinging skills yet?”

Peni giggles. “I didn’t. Big bro said I couldn’t use my powers until we get home.”

Peter, sitting next to her, looks over with a smirk. “We don’t want to give Gotham a show just yet, squirt. Wait until we’re in the Batcave.”

“Peni, you’d make an awesome superhero,” Tim comments from the back, loosening his school tie. “But yeah, saving the webs for home is probably a good idea. Gotham’s already a bit… chaotic as it is.”

Peni grins, her small hand on the window as she gazes out at the city’s sprawling skyline. She looks back at Peter, then Duke, before shifting to Dick in the passenger seat. “Hey, Dick?” she asks shyly. “Do you think there are any other kids in Gotham who have powers like me? You know, like Duke? I want a superhero friend too.”

Dick glances back at her with a raised eyebrow. “Superhero friends? You mean like sidekicks?” He chuckles, giving a playful look toward Peter. “Well, we can definitely try and find you a friend. But you’ll have to be patient.”

Peter nods and turns to Dick. “You know any other kids her age with powers?”

Duke, who had been quietly listening, suddenly perks up. “There’s gotta be someone. Gotham’s got its fair share of interesting folks. Maybe someone from the Titans?”

Tim, flipping through his phone, adds, “What about the League? Some of them have kids already, some are close to her age too.”

Dick grins and picks up his phone, quickly typing a message. "Let me think about it." After a moment, he looks back over his shoulder at Peni. "Actually, I know someone who might be a good match. Elizabeth Prince—she’s Wonder Woman’s daughter. She’s about your age, and yeah, she’s got powers too."

Peni’s eyes light up. “She’s Wonder Woman’s daughter? Does she fly like her mom?”

“She can fly, and she’s super strong,” Dick confirms with a smile. “I think you two would get along just fine.”

“Flying sounds so cool!” Peni says, her voice full of awe as she imagines what it would be like.

Peter grins at her enthusiasm. “Maybe someday, squirt. You’ll get to meet Lizzie soon enough.”

The car pulls into Wayne Manor, and Alfred parks in front of the grand entrance. As he opens the door, Peter stands and helps Peni out, followed by Tim, Cass and Duke, who stretch after the ride. Steph lingers for a second, adjusting her bag before exiting the car with a quick wink at Peni.

As the group enters the manor, Dick takes a moment to text Donna, confirming that Lizzie will be coming over soon for a playdate with Peni. "We’re going to have a superhero duo in the making," he mutters with a grin as he glances at Peter.

“Yeah,” Peter says, half-joking but fully aware of the potential chaos ahead. “I’m sure Gotham won’t know what hit it.”

Inside the manor, the group is greeted by the familiar atmosphere of the Wayne household, but there’s a quiet excitement in the air. Peni’s new adventure in Gotham, with her superhero friends, is just beginning.

The door to the hallway opens, and Bruce’s voice can be heard in the distance, but before anyone can respond, Peni eagerly pulls on Peter’s sleeve. “Do you think Lizzie will want to go on the swings with me?”

Peter laughs, ruffling her hair. “Of course, you're so cute and lovable, I might even need to act as your bodyguard.”

As the rest of the Bat-family made their way into the manor, the possibilities of Peni’s new friendships—and the coming mischief—filled the air with anticipation.

Later that day, the large front doors of Wayne Manor creaked open as the trio of Diana Prince, Donna Troy, and Lizzie Prince-Trevor arrived. The towering Amazonian goddess, Wonder Woman, entered first, her regal presence commanding the room as always. Behind her, Donna, equally strong but with a more playful air, walked in with a smile. Lizzie, their daughter, skipped excitedly beside them, her youthful energy infectious.

Peter stood just inside the entrance, heart racing a little. He was used to meeting powerful heroes, Thor in particular had a certain grace around him, but Wonder Woman—well, she was on a different level entirely. When Diana's eyes fell on him, he couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated, even with everything he's already faced.

"Welcome to the manor," Dick greeted warmly, guiding the three of them inside. "Everyone's already here."

“Thank you, Richard,” Diana replied, her voice smooth and commanding. She approached Peter, offering a handshake. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Peter. I’ve heard much about you.”

Peter grinned, shaking her hand. “Likewise. It’s a real honor to meet you, Diana. I—uh, wow, you’re way taller in person.”

Diana chuckled softly, clearly amused by his reaction. “I suppose the legends don’t quite capture the scale.”

Donna, stepping forward next, gave Peter a knowing look, then winked. "Hmm, a little skinny for a guy that stopped a train with his bare hands, but you’re cute, so you get a pass." she teased, crossing her arms with a grin.

Cass, who had been standing nearby, immediately shot a quick glance at Peter and frowned slightly. It wasn’t much, but the hint of jealousy was there, subtle and quiet.

“Thanks, I guess,” Peter said, scratching the back of his neck, not quite used to compliments like that. He glanced at Cass and offered a friendly, reassuring smile. She didn’t seem to notice.

Lizzie, meanwhile, was already running toward Peni, her youthful enthusiasm a perfect match for Peni's energy. The two girls immediately clicked, giggling as they raced through the manor. “I can fly!” Lizzie boasted proudly, hovering slightly off the ground. “Can you?”

Peni, eyes wide with admiration, nodded quickly. “I can swing like Peter!”

The two of them took off, Lizzie hovering just a bit higher than Peni, as the sound of laughter echoed through the hallways. They began chasing each other through the manor, each trying to outmanoeuvre the other. Lizzie swooped down and tried to tag Peni, but the agile little girl swung herself away, using webs and her spider-sense to dodge the much faster Lizzie.

Peter watched with amusement as Diana followed their antics, standing beside him. “They’re certainly full of energy,” Peter remarked.

“They are indeed,” Diana replied, her eyes softening. “I’m impressed with Peni’s enthusiasm. It’s rare to see such young children so eager about the world of heroes. Most children her age would be overwhelmed.”

Peter nodded thoughtfully. “She’s a quick learner. I’ve been teaching her a lot about responsibility.”

Diana studied him for a moment, her gaze warm but thoughtful. “I can see that. It’s not every day a child is raised by someone as wise as you.”

Peter’s cheeks flushed slightly. “I’m just doing my best. I—uh, wasn’t sure how to be a big brother at first, but it’s growing on me.”

As the two continued to watch the girls, Dick couldn’t resist turning to Peter with a grin. “So, how long did it take you to figure out what Peni was doing with her webs?”

Peter smirked. “Not long. Spider-sense, instincts… those handle the hard part. I just do the math while I swing. You’d be surprised how much you can calculate mid-air. The physics of it all is pretty easy once you break it down.”

Tim, overhearing, immediately raised his eyebrows, stunned. “You… you calculate physics while you’re swinging through the air?” His voice was full of disbelief. “How fast do you need to be going for you to figure that out mid-swing?”

“About 30 miles per hour,” Peter explained, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Once you know the basics—like velocity, angle, gravity—it’s just a matter of doing quick mental math to know where you’ll land. Helps when you’re swinging like a human pendulum.”

Tim’s jaw dropped. “That’s… ridiculous. I don’t even know how you do that.”

Peter chuckled, looking a bit bashful. “Hey, it just comes with the job. You’ve gotta make quick decisions.”

While the others talked shop, Diana turned to Peter with a more serious look in her eyes. “Peter, I would love to have Peni trained on Themyscira. The island has a unique training ground. It could give her the opportunity to grow and understand her powers in a safe environment.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly, unsure how to take the offer. “I mean… that sounds amazing, but I’m not sure about taking her away for that long.”

Diana smiled warmly. “Only during vacation, of course. Themyscira is a place of learning. It could be invaluable for her growth as a hero.”

Peter thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. That sounds fair. But only if it’s during the school breaks. I don’t want to take her away from her friends or school for too long.”

“I understand,” Diana replied, her tone soft but full of understanding. “It’s important to keep balance in her life.”

As Peni and Lizzie continued their antics, Bruce walked in, having been silently observing the scene from a distance. “Looks like they're still full of energy,” he said with a dry chuckle. “Reminds me of a few of my younger days.”

Peter chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re definitely a handful. But it’s fun.”

“I’m sure it is,” Bruce agreed, turning his attention to Peter and the rest of the group. “But I’m more interested in your tech. Tim mentioned something about your suit and how it could be replicated.”

Peter grinned, happy to switch the subject. “I’d be happy to show you what I’ve got. Lemme grab some things from my room, I'll meet you at the workstation.”

And just like that, the focus shifted to the workshop side of things, as Peter showed off his suit, the Sp//der AI, and all the high-tech gadgets he’d developed. Lucius Fox and Tim were more than eager to dive into the technical side of things, while Bruce simply observed with a thoughtful expression, clearly impressed with Peter’s capabilities.

The night was only beginning, as the group gathered around, the excitement buzzed with the promise of learning something new. Peter, feeling at ease with his new family, stood up and began to explain his suit, drawing a few quick diagrams on a nearby whiteboard.

“Alright, so let’s start with the basics of my suit,” Peter said, moving to the board. “This fabric is made of unstable molecules, which is the key to a lot of its properties. It’s technically a ‘smart material,’ meaning it’s designed to adapt based on the environment it’s in, while still maintaining its structure. It’s like a chameleon, but for protection and comfort.”

Tim, leaning forward with rapt attention, raised a hand. “So, it can adjust itself to whatever you need it to be? Like, it knows when to harden and when to soften?”

Peter nodded, visibly excited to break it down. “Exactly. The fabric’s molecular structure is flexible and self-regulating, but it can ‘borrow’ properties from other materials when needed. If I need it to be fireproof, it shifts its molecules to mimic the behavior of fire-resistant materials. If I get hit by a bullet—” Peter paused, then raised a brow. “Which, for the record, is not recommended—it automatically hardens to become bulletproof. It adapts to environmental factors like temperature, too, which means I don’t freeze in the winter or overheat in the summer.”

“Hold up,” Tim interrupted, eyes wide with intrigue, “are you telling me that the fabric is bulletproof, fireproof and can thermoregulate? How does it... transition between those properties?”

Peter grinned. “It’s all about molecular bonds. It uses a kind of ‘networked intelligence’ at the atomic level. Think of it like building with Legos, but each Lego is constantly reconfiguring itself based on a blueprint. So, when I get shot at, the fabric basically ‘locks down’ at a molecular level, hardening to stop the bullet, but when I need it to be more flexible—like, if I’m swinging through the city or fighting—it loosens up again.”

“Like oobleck?” Tim asked with a raised hand, earning a grin from Peter.

“Close, but no cigar. Oobleck is a non-Newtonian fluid that behaves like both a solid and a liquid, depending on how much pressure is applied. My suit is 100% fabric, and can change its properties on its own.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, impressed. "I assume this fabric is highly resilient, then?"

“Oh, it’s practically indestructible,” Peter replied confidently. “I mean, it’s tough enough to withstand pretty much any force that doesn’t come with the explosive power of a nuke. But even then, the suit’s durability is all about precision. It balances strength and flexibility, so I don’t have to sacrifice agility for protection.”

“Impressive,” Bruce murmured, clearly contemplating the practical applications. “But how did you manage to develop something like this?”

Peter leaned back slightly, thinking. “Unfortunately, I can’t take the credit for this one. It was originally designed by a scientist/superhero from my world, Dr. Reed Richards. I’ve done a lot of research on him in the past, even had the opportunity to work with him on once.”

Lucius, Tim and Bruce were all ears listening to Peter. Knowing he came from a different universe made all his knowledge easier to digest.

"I'm guessing he's a big deal in your world, right?" Asked Tim.

Peter faced the three with an eager expression. "Okay, so, you’ve got to understand—Reed Richards—No, the Fantastic Four; They’re not just superheroes, they’re like the Beatles of the science world. Dr. Reed Richards is basically the smartest guy I know, and that’s saying something considering I met Tony Stark too."

Lucius raised an intrigued eyebrow. "Stark?"

"I'll get to him later; no offense to Tony, but Reed’s brain operates on a whole different wavelength. He’s an inventor, explorer, and problem-solver who’s figured out stuff most people wouldn’t even think to ask questions about. Like, you know, quantum entanglement wormholes for interdimensional travel."

Tim raised an inquisitive brow, "Isn't that what you're going through right now?"

"Yeah, but I've already made my decision to stay here. Anyway... Lemme tell you about the others."

Lucius leaned forward; his curiosity piqued. "The others?"

"Right, so the Fantastic Four are kind of a package deal. Reed leads the team, but they all have powers from a cosmic storm they got caught in during a space mission. Susan Storm, or Invisible Woman, can manipulate light to turn invisible and create force fields. She’s also the team’s heart—and can keep everyone in line, which is not an easy feat. Then there’s Johnny Storm, her younger brother— aka: the Human Torch. He can ignite his entire body on fire and fly. Total hothead—literally and figuratively, also a really great friend. And last but definitely not least, Benjamin Grimm, the ever-lovin' blue-eyed Thing; and before you ask, yes, that is his name. He’s this big rock dude with super strength and a heart of gold, though he’d never admit it."

Bruce frowned slightly. "And they’ve managed to operate without government oversight?"

"Well, they’re more explorers than crime-fighters. A lot of their work is about advancing science, solving weird space problems, or saving dimensions from collapsing. Reed actually designed their headquarters, the Baxter Building, as a mix of a lab, observatory, and superhero base. It’s got more cutting-edge tech than I could list in a day." Peter said as he began doodling the members on the whiteboard.

Lucius nodded thoughtfully. "Interesting. And what about their suits? I imagine those powers would wreak havoc on standard materials."

Peter grinned, clearly thrilled to explain. "Oh man, the suits are genius. Reed developed these unstable molecules exactly for that purpose. As I've already explained, it’s a type of material that can adapt to their powers in real time. For instance, Johnny’s suit doesn’t burn up when he 'flames on', Sue’s turns invisible with her, and Ben’s stretches without tearing, and Reed’s, of course, stretches when he does his Mr. Fantastic thing. I looked up a few heroes on the bat-computer, he's similar to Plastic Man."

Bruce crossed his arms, his expression pensive. "A team like this could be both an asset and a threat, depending on their motives."

"Totally. But Reed’s the kind of guy who’d rather save the universe than rule it. He’s a good guy, through and through," Peter replied earnestly. "Still, they do attract some of the biggest bads. Guys like Doctor Doom—who’s like the evil, dictator version of Reed—are always causing trouble."

Tim smirked. "Sounds like you’ve got a few stories about them."

Peter chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "Oh, plenty. Like the time Johnny bet me I couldn’t web-sling through a zero-gravity obstacle course. Spoiler alert: I won. But seriously, they’re like one big happy family, and they’ve saved the world more times than I can count. They’re the real deal."

Bruce exchanged a glance with Lucius, his mind already working through the implications of unstable molecules and the broader concept of a scientifically inclined superhero team. Meanwhile, Tim looked ready to dive into every Fantastic Four story Peter could tell.

"Fascinating," Lucius finally said, a small smile forming. "I’d love to hear more about these unstable molecules. They could have applications far beyond hero work."

Peter grinned, "Oh, I'm just getting started."

Peter leaned in closer to the group, clearly excited about the new turn in the conversation. "If you thought the suit was cool, wait till you see this!” he yelled out as he pointed to Sp//der's chibi icon on the screen, causing Tim, Lucius, and Bruce to look up. “Back in New York, I stumbled upon something interesting. An A.I.M. agent had access to some old tech—specifically, a blueprint for Tony Stark’s arc reactor. It was an older model, but it had some pretty interesting design features.”

Tim, as usual, was quick to catch on. “Wait,” he interrupted as his curiosity spiked. “You mean the other guy you mentioned? What's he like then?”

Peter smirked and shrugged nonchalantly. “Basically, imagine Bruce’s playboy persona except it was his entire personality, while also being a billionaire genius.” He grinned, obviously amused by the thought. “He was all about the tech, but a little more... flamboyant. Definitely not as broody as you are, Bruce.”

Bruce gave him a flat look, but Peter could see the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth—probably a sign that he was holding back a laugh. Lucius, on the other hand, was already scribbling notes on the design schematics Peter had shared.

Tim seemed intrigued by the comparison, raising an eyebrow. "So Tony Stark is kind of like a reverse Bruce Wayne? More of a tech genius than a crime-fighter?"

"Kinda." Peter responded, leaning back in his chair. “He had his own thing going with Iron Man, but you get the picture. He's like Bruce if Bruce decided to build a suit out of gold that could fly and shoot lasers; and would wear it to every party he attended."

Lucius chuckled softly at the comparison, but his focus quickly returned to the tech on the screen. “Interesting. So, you say this blueprint is an older model, but you think we could potentially adapt it to fit our needs?”

Peter nodded enthusiastically. "I’m pretty sure. The design’s more advanced than what you'd expect, considering its age. I’ve been thinking you could incorporate this into the Bat-family’s gear; even outside of crimefighting, the possibilities are endless, like having the power of the sun in the palm of your hand."

Bruce’s eyes narrowed slightly, his mind already working through the possibilities. "It definitely sounds like something we should look into." he said quietly, though there was an undeniable intrigue in his voice.

Peter smirked again, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “And if you ever want to make that armored suit of yours a reality, Bruce, I’d be more than happy to help. red and gold might suit you, just sayin’.”

Tim snorted at the thought, looking at Bruce with a mischievous grin. “Yeah, I think we’d all like to see that.”

Bruce gave them both a level look, but his lips curled just a bit. "Let’s focus on the practical applications first."

“An Iron-Man suit sounds plenty practical to me.” Peter replied easily, still grinning. He was starting to enjoy this new dynamic with the Bat-family. The serious work was still front and center, but the playful jabs and light-hearted moments made it feel like he actually had a place here.

Bruce turned his gaze toward the plans again, his usual stoic expression taking over. "We'll consider it, after careful consideration of course." he said, already making plans in his head for how to utilize Peter’s knowledge.

Peter, meanwhile, relaxed back into his seat. He'd been feeling more at ease in the Batcave lately. While things had been intense at first, with every conversation circling around the tech or what could be done next, there was a sense of belonging he hadn’t realized he was missing.

“Alright, but when you decide you need a flashy new suit for the Bat-family, just know I’ll be the first to sign up as your consultant,” Peter teased, a playful grin still on his face as they continued their discussion.

“Hey Pete, most billionaire inventors I know don’t usually just give stuff like this away. What kind of relationship did you have with Stark?” Tim asked curiously,

“Hmm… cordial, I guess. He was the leader of the Avengers, basically our Justice League. I wasn’t an official member, but I’d help out when he was in New York. I actually tried returning these blueprints to Tony when I could, but he told me, ‘Eh, it’s an old model. You’re smart, keep it. Maybe you can find a use for it.’ So, I did. I ended up reverse-engineering a few aspects of it to power some of my gadgets, including my suit and Sp//der. The arc reactor also powers the self-regulation system, which is why the suit can adapt so fast. It's a fusion-based system that provides insane energy efficiency.”

“It powers your suit too?”

Bruce, Tim, and Lucius exchanged glances. The idea of harnessing the energy of a small-scale arc reactor was groundbreaking, to say the least.

“Wait a minute,” Tim said slowly, his mind racing, “you’re telling me you power your entire suit with an arc reactor? And it runs off of that kind of energy?” His voice had a note of awe.

Peter smiled, a bit sheepishly. “Pretty much. It’s not quite the power level of Iron Man’s version, but it’s more than enough for my needs. It keeps everything running smoothly, from the web-shooters to the emergency systems.”

Lucius, who had been observing with a mix of fascination and deep curiosity, asked, “And the Sp//der AI… what role does it play in all of this?”

Peter glanced over at the nearby computer, where Sp//der’s chibi avatar blinked on the screen. “Well, Sp//der is the core system. It’s designed to interface with all my tech and make adjustments based on the data it collects. If I’m in a fight, Sp//der analyzes the enemy’s movements and helps me figure out the most efficient counter strategy. It also monitors everything from my suit’s durability to my physical stats, like heart rate and muscle strain. It can also display an internal H.U.D in my visors,”

Peter walked over to the computer, gesturing to the screen where Sp//der was pulling up schematics for the suit and gadgets. “Here, let me show you. Sp//der can interface with the Bat-computer too, so we can exchange data. That way, if you guys ever need a tech upgrade for your suits, I can help out.”

He tapped a few keys, and Sp//der’s face popped up on the screen. “Hey, Sp//der,” Peter said, grinning, “There's one last thing; are you able to pull up a periodic table from my earth.”

Peter stood in front of the large monitor, displaying the periodic table from his world, "And I promise, this is the last time I geek out today," he said as he tapped on the element marked "Vi" with a smirk. "Here it is: Vibranium. One of the most incredible metals you could ever imagine."

Bruce, Tim, and Lucius studied the display intently.

"So," Peter began, gesturing to the element, "Vibranium is this insanely versatile metal. It’s super durable, absorbs kinetic energy, and can store and release it. Basically, it can take a punch, store the energy from that punch, and use it to hit back twice as hard."

Tim leaned closer, intrigued. "Woah. Is it used for weapons or tech?"

Peter nodded enthusiastically. "Yes."

Sp//der was able to pull up saved pictures from Peter's library. The screen displayed a red, white and blue shield with a star in the middle. "The most famous example is probably Captain America's shield. It’s practically indestructible because of Vibranium’s unique properties. Then there’s Wakanda—a super-advanced nation in my world where Vibranium is naturally found. Their king, the Black Panther, uses Vibranium for his suit, weapons, and even their infrastructure. They’re centuries ahead of the rest of the world, tech-wise, because of it."

Lucius tilted his head thoughtfully. "Incredible. If it’s that versatile, could we potentially recreate it here in our world?"

Peter’s eyes lit up briefly before a contemplative look settled on his face. "That may be challenging; I mean, Vibranium exists in my world, but it’s not native here. If I were to make it, I’d essentially be creating a new element from scratch."

Bruce crossed his arms. "What kind of challenges are we talking about?"

Peter scratched the back of his neck. "Oh, you know, just the usual: manipulating atomic structures, figuring out its precise energy absorption properties, replicating its molecular bonding… no big deal, right?" He laughed nervously. "Needless to say, it won’t be easy. I’d need time to run tests, simulate its behavior, and maybe even experiment with some exotic materials that mimic its properties."

Lucius smiled faintly, already considering the possibilities. "If anyone could do it, I imagine it’d be someone with a mind like yours. And with Wayne-Tech’s resources, the odds get better."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Better, but not guaranteed, right?"

"Exactly," Peter said. "It’s like trying to reinvent the wheel—except the wheel is made of sci-fi space magic and science I barely understand. Still, I’d love to take a crack at it. If we can even get close to replicating Vibranium, it could change everything for tech and defense here."

Bruce gave Peter a long, thoughtful look. "If you’re serious, Wayne Enterprises will provide the resources you need. Just let us know what you require."

Peter grinned, excitement creeping into his voice. "Thanks, Mr. Wayne. I’ll start drawing up some ideas and see where we can begin."

As the screen faded, Peter muttered under his breath, "Recreating a new element… I don't sound like a man trying to play God, do I?" Tim snorted as he playfully threw an arm around Peter's neck.

Bruce stepped closer to observe, his eyes widened as he took in each new piece of information. “These designs... they’re remarkably advanced. The arc reactor in particular... could it be scaled up?”

Peter nodded. “Theoretically, yes. I mean, the core principles are already there. We could adapt it to power larger systems, like the Justice League Watchtower.”

Tim was practically bouncing with excitement. “This could be huge! We could use this tech to power the League’s satellite systems! Bruce, think of the possibilities!”

Bruce, still contemplating the magnitude of it all, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’ll need to run some tests. But, Peter, if this checks out, it could have far-reaching implications for our work.”

Peter grinned. “Hey, no pressure, right?”

As the group continued discussing the potential applications of Peter’s technology, Peni and Lizzie’s laughter echoed through the Manor's garden, a reminder of how quickly life had changed for them since arriving in Gotham. What had started as a lonely existence in a new world was beginning to feel like something much bigger—something that, with the support of the Bat-family, could bring real change.

And Peter was happy to be a part of it.

Chapter Text

Gotham City, August 1, 20XX

The afternoon sun bathed the sprawling grounds of Wayne Manor in a golden glow. Elizabeth (Lizzie) Prince, daughter of Diana, zipped through the garden with carefree laughter as her glossy ginger hair streamed behind her. Peni Parker, with her usual bright-eyed excitement, dashed after her. She’d been determined to keep up with her new friend, even though Lizzie had the advantage of flight.

Donna and Diana sat on the terrace, sipping tea while Alfred stood nearby, ensuring everyone was comfortable. The Amazonians watched the girls with serene smiles. Lizzie’s giggles rang out as she darted through the air, occasionally dipping low enough to tease Peni.

“You know you can’t catch me, right?” Lizzie called out playfully.

Peni grinned mischievously. “Oh yeah? Let’s see you dodge this!”

In a flash, Peni shot a strand of webbing from her wrist. It flew with pinpoint accuracy, but Lizzie twirled mid-air and dodged it effortlessly.

“Nice try!” Lizzie teased, sticking out her tongue.

“Just warming up,” Peni replied, her voice full of determination.

From the terrace, Donna chuckled. “Your daughter's becoming quite the hassle, Diana.”

Diana smiled warmly, her eyes following the two girls. “And Peni looks no less a handful. Look at them; they’re already so competitive.”

Alfred approached with a tray laden with lemonade and sandwiches. “Shall I call them for refreshments, or would it be best to wait until they exhaust themselves?”

Donna smirked. “Better wait. They’re only just getting started.”

Eventually, the girls paused, panting and laughing as they flopped onto the grass. Peni rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow.

“So,” Lizzie said, brushing a stray blade of grass from her arm, “tell me more about how you do all that.” She pointed at Peni’s wrist, where a faint shimmer of webbing residue still clung.

“Oh, that?” Peni flexed her fingers, causing a fresh strand of web to shoot out and dissolve in the air. “I’ve got natural web shooters. Kinda like… built-in silly string.”

Lizzie’s eyes widened. “That’s so cool! Is it gross?”

Peni laughed. “Not really. It’s just something my body makes… like spit, but way cooler.”

Lizzie giggled. “And the other stuff? How do you climb walls and jump so high?”

Peni leaned back, balancing effortlessly on her palms. “It’s all part of the same package. My brother—he’s Spider-Man—says it’s like having a spider’s instincts and abilities. I can stick to stuff, jump super far, and I’m way stronger than I look.”

Lizzie’s expression turned thoughtful. “Like my mom and Aunt Donna, but smaller and stickier.”

Peni grinned. “Exactly! What about you? Flying must be awesome.”

Lizzie shrugged nonchalantly but couldn’t hide her pride. “It’s pretty great. I’m still learning all the cool Amazon stuff, though. Mom says I’ll get better with practice.”

Peni’s eyes lit up. “I bet you’ll be amazing. Maybe we can train together someday.”

Lizzie extended her hand for a shake. “Deal.”

After snacks courtesy of Alfred, the girls’ energy surged again. This time, they decided on a game of dodgeball. The rules were simple: use powers, but no hitting the face. Alfred set up a makeshift court with cones he miraculously produced, and the match began.

Peni moved like a blur, her enhanced agility making her nearly impossible to hit. She leapt and twisted, her laughter mixing with Lizzie’s as the ball sailed past her. Lizzie, meanwhile, used her flight to stay out of reach, swooping low to grab the ball before hurling it with impressive force.

“You missed me!” Peni taunted, dodging another throw by flipping backward.

Lizzie smirked. “Not for long!”

The game escalated into a high-energy spectacle. Peni used her webbing to snag the ball mid-air, while Lizzie retaliated by zipping around unpredictably. Diana and Donna watched from the sidelines, occasionally cheering for both girls.

“They’re relentless,” Donna said, shaking her head in amused disbelief.

Diana nodded. “And resourceful. Look at how Peni uses her surroundings.”

Indeed, Peni had anchored a web to a tree branch and swung out of Lizzie’s reach, dangling upside down with a victorious grin.

Lizzie crossed her arms. “Not fair!”

“All’s fair in dodgeball,” Peni quipped, launching the ball toward Lizzie. To her credit, Lizzie caught it with ease and sent it hurtling back with renewed vigor.

By the time Alfred called them in for dinner, both girls were covered in grass stains and utterly exhausted but beaming with joy. They trudged back to the manor, chatting animatedly about their epic showdown.

“You’ve got some crazy moves,” Lizzie said, nudging Peni playfully.

Peni grinned. “You’re not so bad yourself. We make a good team.”

From the terrace, Donna and Diana exchanged knowing smiles.

“I think Peni’s found a kindred spirit,” Donna said.

“And Lizzie has found someone to keep her on her toes,” Diana added.

As the girls ran ahead to wash up for dinner, Donna glanced at her sister. “Think they’ll ever slow down?”

Diana’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Not a chance.”

The day’s excitement mellowed as everyone began making their way inside. Peni and Lizzie raced ahead, still buzzing with energy from their epic dodgeball match. Diana, Donna, and Alfred followed, chatting amicably, while Peter and the others emerged from the workshop. Tim carried a notebook filled with sketches and ideas, while Bruce and Lucius exchanged murmured discussions about upgrades inspired by Peter's tech demonstrations.

“Dinner is ready,” Alfred announced as they regrouped in the grand dining hall. “I trust everyone has worked up an appetite.”

Diana smiled warmly. “We’d be delighted to stay for dinner. Thank you, Alfred.”

As everyone took their seats, Donna turned her attention to Peter, who was quietly settling into a chair between Tim and Cass. She studied him for a moment before speaking.

“So, Peter, how old are you?” she asked, curiosity in her tone.

Peter blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. “Uh, I’m 17,” he said casually. Then, after a beat, he added, “Well, for nine more days, anyway. My birthday’s on August 10th.”

The casual remark had an unexpected effect. The table fell silent, and every pair of eyes turned toward Peter.

“What?” he asked, glancing around at the group. “Did I say something weird?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “You’re turning 18 in nine days, and you didn’t think to mention that?”

Peter shrugged. “I mean, it’s not that big a deal. Birthdays have never really been my thing.”

Cass frowned slightly. “No birthday? That’s sad.”

“Not sad,” Peter said quickly. “Just... low-key. You know, pizza, cake, maybe a movie. Nothing fancy.”

But the look in Cass’s eyes suggested she wasn’t convinced. She glanced at Dick, who was sitting across from her. She said nothing, but the glint in her eyes clearly told Dick “We have to get him something,” Dick simply nodded back, as though it were non-negotiable.

 “Don’t worry, Cass. I’ll help you pick out the perfect gift.”

Lizzie, sitting beside Peni, turned to her new friend. “What about you, Peni? When’s your birthday?”

“October 15th,” Peni replied with a grin. “I’ll be seven. Peter said he’d make me my own spider suit!”

Lizzie’s eyes sparkled. “That’s so awesome! Maybe this year, you can have two cakes.”

Peni tilted her head. “Why two?”

“Because now you’ve got two families,” Lizzie said confidently, glancing at Diana and Donna for confirmation.

Diana smiled warmly. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Peter, meanwhile, was trying to deflect the growing attention. “Guys, seriously, its fine,” he tried to protest, though he was clearly touched by their sudden enthusiasm.

“Absolutely not,” Diana said, her tone warm but resolute. “It’s your coming of age, your step into adulthood. We certainly need to go all out for this occasion.”

Donna leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she smirked. “So, any specific wishes for the big day? Or do we get to make it a surprise?”

Peter chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, I guess a surprise could be fun?”

Bruce exchanged a glance with Alfred, who gave a subtle nod, already making mental notes for the occasion. Tim leaned over to whisper something to Duke, who grinned and nodded in agreement.

“Looks like you’re outnumbered, Pete,” Dick said with a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. “Better just roll with it.”

Cass was already mentally planning her gift. Another glance back at Dick said “We should go shopping tomorrow,” and, “You promised to help.”

“I did,” Dick replied, smirking. “And I’m a man of my word.”

The table buzzed with excitement as everyone began tossing around ideas for Peter’s birthday and even Peni’s future celebration. Peter, though slightly overwhelmed, couldn’t help but smile, it felt good to part of this whacky family of heroes.

Chapter Text

Gotham City, August 10, 20XX

The grand hall of Wayne Manor had been transformed into a sight Peter could only describe as “over the top.” Banners of red and blue, reminiscent of Spider-Man’s colors, hung from the walls, while balloons shaped like spiders floated above elegantly decorated tables. Bruce, as expected, had spared no expense.

The grand hall of Wayne Manor was alive with the chatter and laughter of heroes and guests. Bruce had truly gone all out for Peter’s 18th birthday. From the lavish decorations to the star-studded guest list, it was clear this was no ordinary celebration.

Guests poured in, filling the space with warmth and laughter. Members of the Justice League arrived in full force, each one curious to meet the teenager who had quickly become a part of Gotham’s most elusive family. A tall yet plain man greeted Peter with a firm handshake that nearly crushed his hand,

"Happy birthday, kiddo. I'm Clark, it's good to meet you." The man said politely with a mild farm boy accent.

Another man with reddish brown hair and far too much energy for Peter to keep up with spoke so quickly it took Peter a moment to catch up, and a blonde man with matching goatee teased him about the "spider motif." Even Hal Jordan, whom Peter quickly learnt was one of the Green Lanterns, made a joke about spiders on alien planets, which he nervously laughed at.

The Teen Titans arrived soon after, led by Dick. An excited green skinned teen immediately gravitated toward Peter, fascinated by his powers.

“So, you’ve got actual spider DNA?” the boy asked, wide-eyed.

“Pretty much,” Peter said with a grin.

The green boy’s eyes lit up as he transformed into a tarantula, then back to human form. “Think I could turn into my own Spider-Man?”

Peter chuckled. “You can try, but I don’t think that’s how it works.”

He gave it his best shot, morphing into a vaguely spider-like shape, only to end up with six legs instead of eight. The room erupted in laughter as Raven rolled her eyes.

“You’re going to scare the kids, Gar.” she deadpanned, motioning toward Peni and Lizzie, who were watching the spectacle from the sidelines.

Near the refreshment table, Dick and Kori stood close together, their body language relaxed but magnetic. Kori leaned against the table, sipping from a glass of punch as her fiery orange hair caught the soft glow of the chandeliers.

“I have to say, Richard,” she teased, her voice lilting with amusement, “you look very dashing in a tuxedo. Almost like a prince.”

Dick smirked, leaning in slightly. “Almost? I thought I nailed the whole ‘Prince of Gotham’ thing.”

Kori giggled, a sound that seemed to light up the room. “You’re missing the crown, but I will forgive you. It’s quite charming, really.”

“You think I’m charming, huh?” he quipped, his tone playful but with an undercurrent of sincerity.

She tilted her head, her emerald-green eyes sparkling. “Of course. But you are also modest. A rare combination.”

Dick chuckled. “Modesty? Me? You must be thinking of someone else.”

Kori leaned closer, her voice dropping to a soft whisper. “No, I am thinking of you. But do not let it go to your head, or I may change my mind.”

Dick grinned, brushing a strand of her hair back gently. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

From across the room, Jason elbowed Steph, nodding toward the pair. “Think we should tell him everyone’s watching?”

Steph smirked. “No, let him have his moment.”

As the night went on, Peter found himself overwhelmed with gifts. Clark, who Peter soon found out was Superman, handed him a journal embossed with the House of El crest, telling him it was for jotting down all his “friendly neighborhood” stories. Barry, the Flash presented him with a custom watch that could track his web-swinging speeds. Oliver gave him a set of custom arrows he claimed were “too fun not to share,” while Hal gifted him a glowing emerald shard from the Green Lantern battery. Peter thanked them for their thoughtful gifts, which was followed by more gifts from other super-powered guests.

Dick had clearly rallied the Titans, as they presented a signed photograph of the team, complete with a cheeky “Welcome to the club, Web-head!” note from Beast Boy.

Peter beamed with gratitude, feeling genuinely touched. “This is amazing. Thank you, guys.”

As the mountain of gifts on the table gradually shrank, Cass nervously approached Peter, holding a small, neatly wrapped package. She tapped his shoulder lightly, and when he turned, she thrust the gift into his hands with barely a word.

“Open it later,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her cheeks were tinged pink as she hurried back to her seat.

Curious but respecting her wishes, Peter set it aside until the end of the evening. Once the party began to wind down, he found a quiet moment to slip away to his room to open the gift.

Inside, he found a simple yet thoughtful gift—a sleek watch he recognized from a boutique they’d passed in Gotham City.

Underneath the watch was something even more meaningful: a framed photograph of Peter, Peni, Cass, and the rest of the Bat-Family. He immediately recognized the picture as one Alfred had taken on the day he and Peni first arrived at Wayne Manor. It was a wonderful picture, but that wasn't what caught Peter's attention. Peter ran his hand over the frame, his breath caught as he realized it was the same one he had brought with him when he fell through the wormhole into Gotham. It wasn’t just any frame—it had once held a cherished photo of him and Aunt May from when he was younger.

Though he’d removed the frame to keep the picture in his wallet, seeing it again brought a flood of memories. The old photo itself was one of his favorites: a much younger Peter with thick glasses, looking every bit the adorable and awkward kid, smiling wide with Aunt May’s arm wrapped around him.

Just as Peter was running his fingers over the familiar frame, there was a soft knock at his door. Cass peeked in hesitantly.

“You liked it?” she asked quietly.

“You kept it?” Peter asked, glancing up at her.

Cass nodded shyly. “Didn’t need it. Thought... you might want it back. Made new photo, too.”

Peter grinned and waved her in. “I love it. But hang on—I’ve got to show you something.”

He rummaged through his nightstand and pulled out his wallet, carefully extracting the old photo of him and Aunt May. He held it up for Cass to see.

“This is the picture that used to be in that frame,” he explained.

Cass stepped closer; her curiosity piqued. She leaned in to get a better look at the photo, her dark eyes scanning the image. A soft smile spread across her face; the kind of genuine, unguarded smile Peter rarely saw.

“You were... cute,” she said, her voice tinged with amusement.

“Was?” Peter joked, raising an eyebrow.

Cass smirked but didn’t reply, instead pointing to the photo. “She looks kind. Like... she loved you very much.”

“She did,” Peter said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “She still does. I wouldn’t be the person I am without her.”

Cass nodded, meeting his gaze. “She’d be proud. You’re... good.”

The sincerity in her voice caught Peter off guard, and he smiled warmly. “Thanks, Cass. That means a lot.”

She glanced at the frame in his hand. “New photo’s good too.”

Peter chuckled, setting the old photo down and picking up the new one of him, Peni, and the rest of the Bat-family. “It really is. You guys are my family now, too.”

Cass gave a small nod, then turned to leave but hesitated at the door. “You keep both pictures. Together.”

“I will,” Peter promised.

With that, Cass disappeared into the hall, leaving Peter to cherish the thoughtful gift and the moments it had sparked.

Among all the capes and costumes of the Justice League and the Titans, one figure stood out—a trench coat-clad man with a cigarette dangling from his lips. John Constantine strolled in late to the party, most guest having already left, and his expression was one of mild annoyance, though he carried a distinct air of confidence.

“John,” Bruce said curtly, stepping forward to greet him. “I appreciate you coming.”

Constantine shrugged. “Wouldn’t miss a chance to crash a fancy party, mate. Plus, you sounded serious when you called.” He glanced around the room. “So, where’re the kids?”

Bruce gestured toward Peter, who was coming back from his room.

“Spider-boy, huh?” Constantine muttered. “Right, let’s get this over with.”

He gestured towards Peter, his sharp eyes scanning them as though he could see straight through to his soul.

“So, you’re the famous spider kid,” Constantine said, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Bruce tells me you 'n your sis ain't from around here.”

“Uh, yeah,” Peter said hesitantly, glancing at Bruce for confirmation. “Is that... a problem?”

John smirked. “Not usually. But cross-dimensional stuff can get messy. I’ve seen things go sideways before—tears in reality, unstable energy fields, all that bloody fun stuff. So, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to make sure you two are not ticking time bombs.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “I’m not gonna blow up, am I?”

“Doubt it,” Constantine said, pulling out a small vial of what looked like glowing liquid. “But better safe than sorry. Call your sister over too.”

Peter placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled, Peni ran straight up to him with a wide grin.

With a quick muttering of incantations, the room seemed to shimmer for a moment. Both Peter and Peni felt a strange warmth wash over them as Constantine’s spell probed their auras.

John stepped back, nodding to himself. “Well, you’re not unstable, so that’s a relief. But…” He paused, his brow furrowing. “You’ve got some odd energy about you. Nothing dangerous, mind you, just... weird. Like there’s something bigger tying you two to this world.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, curious but slightly nervous.

Constantine shrugged, already losing interest. “Beats me, mate. Could be some cosmic nonsense or just residual energy from your own world. Either way, it’s not something to worry about. If it was serious, I’d know.”

Peni tilted her head. “That’s it? We’re fine?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Constantine said, waving them off. “You’re good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find the closest bar.”

Bruce intercepted him on the way. “Anything I should know?”

“They’re fine, for the most part." Constantine said.

"For the most part?” Bruce raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“But they’ve got a weird thread of energy connecting them to... something. Could be fate, destiny, or just cosmic background noise. We can talk more later.”

Bruce nodded, though his expression was as unreadable as ever.

With Constantine’s assessment done, he walked off, but he gestured to Bruce to follow later.

In a dimly lit room in an old, crumbling building in Gotham. Smoke wafts in the air from John Constantine’s cigarette as he recites an incantation, using the residual energy from Peter and Peni to bridge the gap to the source of the strange energy.

With a glimmer of orange, a gateway opened up, revealing an elderly woman, surrounded in a cacophony of webbing and spiders. The woman, seated gracefully in a high-backed chair, peers at him with an air of serene authority.

She calmly folded her hands in her lap, "I can sense your unease, Constantine. But before you lash out with some quip about my methods, let me explain why I brought them here."

Constantine, leaning back, dropped his cigarette as the woman knew his identity. "How in the bloody hell did you-“

Madame Web, with a slight smile, her voice measured "A discussion for later, Hellblazer. For now, do you know what an incursion is?”

John gave her a bemused look, lighting another cigarette, “Oh, do tell.”

“An incursion occurs when two universes collide, drawn together by forces they were never meant to face. At the point of collision, both universes are irrevocably altered. One survives, sometimes neither. Chaos consumes both worlds." Madame Web explained.

Constantine, pausing mid-drag and his brow furrowing, "Bloody hell. And you’re telling me this... incursion, was set to wipe out their entire reality?"

Madame Web, glad he caught on quick, "Precisely. The threads of fate in their world were fraying, tangling in ways not even I, nor the Master Weaver could untangle. The web of destiny was breaking under the weight of the incursion, and Peter and Peni Parker were destined to perish with it. I had to act."

Constantine, nervously tapping ash into a tray "So you tore a hole in your... what? Cosmic spider web? Just to toss two kids into our charming bloody deathtrap of a world? Brave choice, but why here of all places?"

Madame Web, leaning forward, and her voice taking on a sharp edge "This world, Constantine, is not as irredeemable as you like to think. Its threads are resilient, capable of adapting to new weavers. Peter and Peni may find this place alien, harsh even, but this world could use a spider or two."

Constantine snorted as he shook his head "You’re not wrong about this world needing some bloody help. But you’ve tossed them into Gotham. That’s trial by fire, innit? Those kids even know what they’re in for?"

Madame Web, smiling enigmatically "Peter is resourceful, and Peni is destined for greatness. They will adapt, as they always have. Their presence here will strengthen the web, weave new threads of hope where only despair lingers."

Constantine ran a hand through his hair as he exhaled smoke "Yeah, well, let’s hope they’re made of sterner stuff than most. This world eats the hopeful alive. And if what you’re saying about incursions is true... I don’t much fancy the idea of our world getting tangled up in whatever mess they left behind."

“The tear I created was small, controlled. Their past will not follow them here. They have a chance at a new beginning, as does this world, if you let them thrive."

Constantine grins darkly "Right. And if this little 'web of fate' stunt of yours goes sideways, I suppose you’ll be the one cleaning it up, yeah?"

Madame Web, standing, her presence towering despite her fragile appearance, "I have already done what needed to be done, Constantine. Now it’s up to you and your kind to ensure they find their place here."

Constantine sighs, stubbing out his cigarette, "Bloody hell. Fine. But don’t come crying to me when your spiders start sticking their webs where they don’t belong."

Madame Web, smiling as she begins to fade into the shadows "Oh, Constantine, they already belong. You just haven’t realized it yet."

"Brilliant. Just what we needed. More bloody heroes with tragic pasts." Constantine thought out loud, lighting another cigarette.

In the same dimly lit room, after Madame Web vanished along with the gateway, her cryptic presence still leaving a weighty silence behind. John snuffed out the final embers of his cigarette, his attention turning towards a shadow in the corner. The Batman steps forward, his cape billowing slightly as he moves into the faint light.

"Took your bloody time, didn’t you? Thought you’d wanna hear this firsthand." The spiffing Brit said gruffly, but with a smirk.

Batman, ignoring the jab, "I heard enough. Incursions. Tears in the fabric of reality. And two kids who came here without knowing the full story."

Constantine leaned his back against the wall, folding his arms "That about sums it up. But there’s something else. They’re not just ‘lost travelers.’ There’s energy around those two—strong, strange, and nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s not dangerous, not yet. But it’s got me curious."

Batman’s eyes narrowed "Define 'strange.' Do you think they brought something with them?"

Constantine responded with a shake of his head "Nah, mate. Madame Web was clear about that. Their past isn’t following them. But whatever powers tied to their little spider shtick, it’s got a resonance. Like they’re connected to this world in ways they shouldn’t be."

Batman was thoughtful for a moment, crossing his arms "If they’re connected to this world, it might not be an accident. Destiny, or someone’s design."

Constantine snorted out a chuckle, "Destiny’s just a fancy word for someone pulling the strings.”

Batman took a step closer, his voice dropping to a grave tone "You said their past isn’t following them. But you’re still asking if an incursion could happen here. Why?"

Constantine replied in a serious tone, "Because we don’t live in a world where happy endings stick, mate. If an incursion can wipe out their universe, what’s to say it won’t happen to ours? I don’t know if their presence makes it more likely, but if there’s even a chance... we need to be ready."

Batman’s eyes narrowed beneath the cowl, giving the wizard a solemn nod, "How do you prepare for something like that?"

"That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Madame Web wasn’t exactly handing out instructions. But I’ve seen enough apocalypses to know that ignoring the signs never ends well." Constantine replied with a shrug, lighting another cigarette.

Batman, thinking aloud "We’d need contingency plans. If this energy around them is a connection to their old world—or to the forces that destroyed it—we’ll need to monitor it. If it changes, if it grows unstable... we act."

Constantine nodded, "You’re the planning type, so that’s your wheelhouse. Me? I’ll poke around the magical end, see if I can find out more about their little cosmic hitchhike."

Batman, turning toward the door, with his cape sweeping behind him "Keep me informed. And Constantine..."

"Yeah?" Constantine asked, raising an eyebrow as Batman paused in the doorway, with his voice low,

"If this turns into something bigger, I’ll need to tell them. They deserve to know why they're here."

Constantine, exhaling smoke, his voice uncharacteristically sombre "Yeah. I’ll even tell 'em myself. But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that."

As Batman disappears into the shadows, Constantine stands alone, the weight of what he’s learned pressing heavily on him. He glances at the faint shimmer of energy lingering on his hand from the spell, muttering to himself.

"Bloody spiders. Always weaving webs, tangling us all in their messes."

Chapter Text

The Batcave buzzed with chatter as the Bat-family and Teen Titans lounged in various corners, enjoying some downtime after Peter’s birthday celebration. Jason leaned against the Batmobile, Tim fiddled with his tablet, and Steph twirled a pen in her fingers, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Alright, listen up!” Steph called out, slapping a notebook onto the table in the centre of the room. “We’re doing this. Betting pool time. What happens first: does Peter finally notice Cass has a huge crush on him, or does Cass gather up the courage to confess?”

Dick chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the workstation. “You’ve been waiting for an excuse to do this, haven’t you?”

“You know me so well, Dicky.” Steph grinned. “Now, place your bets, people! Ten bucks to buy in. Winner takes all.”

Jason snorted, pulling out his wallet. “Easy money. My bets on Cass spilling first. Pete's smart enough to design gadgets that would make even Luthor jealous, but when it comes to social ques, total disaster.”

Tim glanced up from his tablet. “That’s not fair, Jay. He’s not clueless, just… distracted. I mean, the guy’s balancing a day job, crime-fighting, and raising Peni. Though I do agree, Cass will confess first. She’s bold when she wants to be.”

“Bold? Have you met her?” Jason shot back.

“Cass is bold in her own way,” Duke chimed in, tossing a ball of light between his hands. “She’s just… quiet about it. I’m with you guys though—Cass confesses first.”

“Quiet? She hasn’t even been able to say hi without blushing for a week,” Wally cut in, lounging on the Batcave’s couch with his feet propped up. “Peter’s gonna notice. Eventually. Like, after another hundred awkward encounters.”

“Hundred awkward encounters?” Raven deadpanned from her seat in the shadows. “That’s optimistic.”

Beast Boy leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Nah, Raven. Cass is gonna do it. She’s a ninja. Ninjas are stealthy and strike when you least expect it. Mark my words.”

“Gotta agree with BB on this one,” Roy said, adjusting his quiver strap. “Cass knows what she wants, and when she decides to go for it, she’ll make it happen.”

Cyborg tapped his chin, glancing at the growing list in Steph’s notebook. “You’re all overthinking this. Cass might try, but Peter’s gonna notice before she gets the chance. Dude’s got spider-sense for a reason.”

Raven sighed. “Spider-sense has nothing to do with emotional intelligence, Victor.”

“Thank you!” Jason exclaimed, pointing at Raven. “Finally, someone gets it.”

“Alright, alright, let’s tally this up,” Steph said, jotting down everyone’s bets. “Cyborg is on Team ‘Peter Realizes first’; Tim, Duke, Garfield and Roy are on Team ‘Cass Confesses first.’”

“And you?” Dick asked with a smirk.

Steph grinned wickedly. “I’m betting they both chicken out, and Peni ends up spilling the beans to Peter. She’s been watching them like it’s her favorite soap opera.”

Jason barked out a laugh. “Oh, man, I’d pay to see that.”

“Don’t underestimate Peter,” Raven added quietly. “He’s more observant than he lets on. I think he'll confess first.”

“Changing your bet?” Steph asked, raising an eyebrow.

Raven shrugged. “Consider it a wildcard.”

As the group continued their playful debate, none of them noticed Cass lurking in the shadows near the staircase, her cheeks flaming red. She clenched her fists, a determined glint in her eyes.

Meanwhile upstairs, Peter walked into the kitchen with a slice of leftover cake in hand, blissfully unaware of the chaos brewing below. Peni sat at the counter, kicking her legs and smirking to herself.

“What’s so funny?” Peter asked, narrowing his eyes.

Peni grinned. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about how clueless you are sometimes.”

Peter blinked. “Uh, thanks? I think?”

“Don’t worry, Big Bro.” Peni patted his arm. “You’ll figure it out. Eventually.”

Peter tilted his head in confusion but shrugged it off, oblivious as he took another bite of cake.

Chapter Text

The air in Gotham City was heavy with the scent of rain, a promise of the storm brewing over the horizon. At Wayne Manor, however, the atmosphere was warm, alive with the sounds of a new family settling into its peculiar rhythm.

Peter and Peni Parker had been with the Wayne’s for little more than a month. In that time, they had begun to find their footing in a household unlike any they had known before. Peter, ever the overachiever, had quickly adapted to the rigorous academic environment at Gotham Academy. His teachers were both impressed and bemused by the young man who managed to ace every science test while doodling complex equations in the margins. (All while doing nightly patrols with the Bats, Even keeping his side-gig at the GCPD.) Peni, meanwhile, had become a whirlwind of energy and curiosity, charming her way into the hearts of her classmates and her teachers alike.

In the evening, the manor was a hive of activity. Peter and Tim Drake spent countless hours in the workshop, downing coffee and energy drinks while poring over blueprints and prototypes. Their latest project: suits crafted from unstable molecules, designed to adapt to the unique needs of each member of the Bat-family. Jason, Damian, and Cassandra often joined them, eager to see the designs.

When Peter unveiled a sleek, silent suit tailored for Cass, her expression softened into a rare, radiant smile. “Perfect,” she murmured, tracing the intricately stitched patterns on the fabric.

Peni, on the other hand, had her own adventures. Steph and Harley (Yes, that Harley) had taking her out frequently as of late — simple outings that Peni would cherish as a slice of normalcy in her new life. She would return to the manor every afternoon with a beaming smile, recounting the day's events to Peter with such enthusiasm that even Bruce chuckled.

One evening, as the family gathered in the study, Bruce Wayne cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. His voice, typically commanding, carried an unusual warmth. “I wanted to share some news,” he began. “The adoption papers have been finalized. You two are officially part of this family.”

Peni’s reaction was immediate and heart-warming. She let out an excited squeal and launched herself at Bruce, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re stuck with us now, Mr. Wayne!” she declared, her laughter echoing through the room. Even Bruce’s stoic façade cracked into a small, genuine smile.

Peter, standing a few steps away, felt a lump form in his throat. “Thank you, Mr. Wayne. For everything.”

Bruce placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You’re officially part of the family now, Peter. Can you start calling me Bruce, please?”

As the Parker siblings found their footing, Gotham’s shadows stirred. Detective Harvey Bullock was the first to stumble upon the grisly scene: a tortured murder victim pinned to the wall of his apartment, his body pierced by knives bearing the insignia of an owl. Scribbled across the wall in blood-red letters was a chilling message: “Bruce Wayne will die soon.”

When Batman later arrived at the scene, his investigation uncovered something even more alarming: Dick Grayson’s DNA was found beneath the victim’s fingernails. When returning to the cave, he relayed this information to his eldest quietly. Bruce pulled Dick aside to inform him of the discovery. “We’ll figure this out,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt.

A week after Batman’s discovery, came the Gotham Revival Gala which marked a significant milestone for the city—and for Peter and Peni. Bruce had decided to use the event to unveil his ambitious plans to revitalize Gotham and to formally introduce Peter and Peni as his wards.

Peter, dressed in a tailored suit that he found slightly too formal, feeling out of place among Gotham’s elite. Peni, however, seemed to relish the attention, spinning around in her dress and making Bruce laugh for perhaps the first time that night.

As Bruce delivered his speech, outlining his vision for Gotham’s future, Peter’s eyes wandered through the crowd. He spotted a man, Lincoln March, a charismatic politician who had been a vocal supporter of the project, but Peter couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of unease about him.

The charismatic politician seemed to materialize beside him moments later, greeting Peter with a firm handshake and an unsettlingly warm smile.

“So, Peter, how does it feel to be a Wayne now? Quite the upgrade, wouldn’t you say?” Lincoln’s words were smooth, almost too smooth, and laced with a subtle condescension that made Peter bristle.

Peter forced a polite chuckle, his spider-sense humming faintly, like a low static at the back of his mind. “It's... different? I mean, it’s an adoption on paper, but really, it's more a guardianship than anything, haha.” he replied carefully, trying not to come off as arrogant and keeping his tone neutral.

March leaned in slightly, his eyes glinting with something Peter couldn’t quite place. “Different, indeed. Must be nice to have doors open for you that were once firmly shut.”

Peter nodded noncommittally, every fibre of his being screaming to extricate himself from the conversation. There was something off about Lincoln—his overly polished demeanor, the calculated pauses in his speech, the way his eyes lingered just a moment too long. It wasn’t anything Peter could put his finger on, but the sensation of unease was palpable.

As Lincoln moved on to mingle with other guests, Peter exhaled slowly, his unease lingering. He couldn’t help but wonder: Who exactly was Lincoln March, and why did he make his spider-sense tingle in such an unfamiliar way?

The gala at Wayne Tower continued, with Gotham's elite enjoying a night of luxury. Peter lingered near Bruce, trying to navigate the evening with his usual awkward charm. He glanced at Peni, who was busy sampling every dessert she could find, her small hands clutching a chocolate fountain skewer.

Everything seemed normal—until Peter’s spider-sense flared once more. The familiar, spine-tingling sensation made his stomach drop. His eyes darted to the grand ceiling beams, catching a shadow moving unnaturally fast.

“Bruce,” Peter murmured, leaning closer. “We’ve got a problem.”

Bruce barely reacted, his expression unreadable. “What do you see?”

“Not sure yet, but something’s here. And it’s bad.”

Bruce’s gaze hardened. “Go.”

Peter didn’t hesitate. Slipping away from the crowd, he ducked into a quiet hallway. He quickly opened a concealed panel in the wall—a pre-arranged plan for emergencies—and retrieved the compact black and red spider-suit he and Tim worked on that was stashed there earlier. Bruce keeps a spare here for every bat, so naturally, so did Peter.

“Guess its show time,” he muttered, pulling the mask over his face and activating the suit’s HUD. Within seconds, Spider-Man emerged, fully suited and ready for action.

Spider-Man returned to the main hall, sticking to the shadows on the upper level. His spider-sense sharpened, directing him to the far end of the room. That’s when he saw it: a figure descending silently from the rafters. The Talon.

The assassin landed with predatory grace, his clawed gauntlets gleaming in the light. He moved with precision, weaving through the crowd toward Bruce with deadly intent. Guests screamed in Panic, while Bruce remained calm as he held Peni’s hand tightly.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Spider-Man whispered. Launching a web, he swung down from the ceiling, intercepting the Talon just as the assassin lunged for Bruce.

“Hold up, pal!” Spider-Man quipped, landing between Bruce and the Talon. “I didn’t see your name on the guest list, I’m gonna need to see your invitation.”

The Talon didn’t respond. He simply tilted his head, his glowing eyes locking onto Spider-Man.

“Quiet type. Got it.” Spider-Man added, bracing himself.

The Talon attacked without warning, his claws slashing through the air. Spider-Man flipped backward, narrowly avoiding the strike. “Hey, careful! Those things are sharp, you tryna poke my eye out?”

The enemy moved with alarming speed, closing the gap between them in an instant. Spider-Man ducked under a high slash, then rolled to the side as the Talon followed up with a sweeping kick.

“Fast, but I've fought faster,” Spider-Man said, firing a web at the Talon’s feet. The sticky strands wrapped around the assassin’s boots, momentarily rooting him in place.

Spider-Man didn’t waste time. He darted forward, delivering a combination of quick jabs and hooks to the Talon’s torso. The blows landed with satisfying thuds, but the assassin barely flinched. With a sharp tug, the Talon ripped free of the webbing and countered with a brutal swipe of his claws.

Spider-Man somersaulted over the attack, landing on a nearby pillar. “Okay, I’ll admit it—you’re tougher than you look.”

The Talon hurled a throwing knife with deadly accuracy. Spider-Man dodged, but the blade grazed his arm, but the fabric did not tear. He chuckled in amusement, glancing at his arm. “Thank God for Reed Richards.”

The Talon pressed the attack, his movements relentless and precise. Spider-Man found himself on the defensive, dodging and weaving as the assassin’s claws came dangerously close.

“Okay, I'll give you credit, you’re good,” Spider-Man said, leaping onto the wall and sticking there. “But you don't hold a candle to Daredevil or Iron Fist.”

The Talon didn’t reply. Instead, he leapt after Spider-Man, embedding his claws into the wall and climbing with unnatural ease. Spider-Man’s eyes widened. “Hey, wall-crawling is my shtick!”

He shot a web at the ceiling, swinging to the other side of the room. The Talon followed, leaping from wall to wall with terrifying agility. Spider-Man barely had time to land before the assassin was on him again.

The Talon feinted left, then struck right, his claws grazing Spider-Man’s side. The impact sent him sprawling across the floor.

Spider-Man groaned, pushing himself up. “Alright, that hurt. Guess it’s time to step up my game.”

He fired two webs at the Talon’s gauntlets, yanking them together and throwing off the assassin’s balance. The Talon stumbled, and Spider-Man seized the opportunity. He swung forward, planting both feet into the Talon’s chest and sending him crashing into a table.

The assassin rose slowly, his glowing eyes blazing with fury. He pressed a button on his wrist, and a blade extended from his gauntlet, humming with an ominous vibration.

“Okay, that’s just not fair,” Spider-Man muttered, readying himself.

The Talon charged. Spider-Man sidestepped at the last second, shooting a web at the blade. He pulled hard, disarming the assassin and sending the weapon clattering to the floor.

“I get that you’re an assassin and all, but is it really necessary to carry all these sharp things?” Spider-Man said, delivering a quick uppercut that sent the Talon reeling. The enemy staggered but didn’t go down. He lunged again, his movements wild but still dangerous. Spider-Man dodged, firing a barrage of webs that pinned the assassin to the wall.

“Stay down, will you?” Spider-Man said, panting.

Spider-Man crouched in a defensive stance, keeping his eyes on the Talon. The assassin struggled against the webbing that pinned him to the wall, but the sticky strands held firm—for now.

“Nice try, buddy,” Spider-Man quipped. “But you’re not going anywhere.”

The Talon suddenly went still, his glowing eyes fixed on Spider-Man. Before the hero could react, the assassin wrenched his arm free, ripping through the reinforced webbing with sheer force.

“Okay, that’s new,” Spider-Man muttered, leaping backward.

The Talon moved unnaturally fast, closing the distance in a heartbeat. He swung his clawed gauntlet, and Spider-Man barely dodged, the razor-sharp tips grazing his suit. Spider-Man countered with a swift punch to the Talon’s jaw, sending the assassin flying into a pillar. The impact cracked the marble, and the Talon slumped to the ground.

Spider-Man straightened, breathing heavily. “Alright, party time's over. Just take a nap while we wait for the cops, m'kay.”

But then, to his shock, the Talon stood up yet again, completely unfazed. The gash in his chest, which should have been debilitating, was already sealing itself, the skin knitting together as if nothing had happened.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Spider-Man muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You’re like a zombie ninja Deadpool.”

The Talon lunged again, his movements as fluid and deadly as ever. Spider-Man dodged, but his mind raced. If this guy could heal from anything, holding back wouldn't necessary.

Spider-Man cracked his knuckles as he stretched his arms up, hardening his resolve. “Alright then, MAXIMUM EFFORT.”

He darted forward, faster than the Talon anticipated. Spider-Man’s fist connected with the assassin’s face in a bone-crunching punch, the force sending him skidding across the floor. The Talon rolled to his feet, but Spider-Man was already on him, delivering a punishing combo of strikes.

Each punch landed with devastating force, reverberating through the room. The Talon’s regenerative abilities kept him standing, but Spider-Man’s relentless assault began to take its toll. Cracks formed in the assassin’s armor, and his movements grew sluggish.

“You got a healing factor, right?” Spider-Man said, his voice grim. “Let’s see heal from this!”

He leapt into the air, twisting mid-flight to deliver a spinning kick that sent the Talon crashing through a decorative column. The assassin hit the ground hard, shards of stone raining around him.

The Talon staggered to his feet, blood dripping from his mouth. His dead eyes burned with fury, but his body was visibly struggling to recover.

Spider-Man didn’t give him a chance to recover. He shot two webs at the ceiling, launching himself high into the air. As he descended, he brought both fists down in a devastating double-handed strike.

The impact was seismic. The floor beneath them cracked, and the Talon was slammed into the ground with enough force to leave a shallow crater. Spider-Man stood over him, breathing heavily, his fists still clenched.

The Talon twitched but didn’t get up. His body began to heal, but much slower than before. Whatever reserves of energy he had left were clearly depleted. Bruce appeared with security in tow, just in time to witness the final strike.

Spider-Man stepped back, wiping his brow. “And that’s why you don’t mess with Spider-Man.”

As the dust settled, Bruce approached cautiously, his expression a mix of concern and admiration. “That was... effective.”

Spider-Man turned to him, still catching his breath. “Tell me this guy doesn’t have a twin.”

Bruce glanced at the barely-conscious Talon. “Not a twin, but there are more like him. This is just the beginning.”

Spider-Man groaned. “Of course there are.”

Alfred appeared moments later, carrying a medical kit. “Might I suggest a moment of respite? You look rather worse for wear, Spider-Man.”

Spider-Man chuckled weakly. “You should see the other guy.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at the shattered floor and the nearly dead Talon. “I’d say we all have.”

The scene outside Wayne Tower was chaos. News vans lined the streets, their cameras trained on the shattered windows of the grand building. GCPD cruisers formed a barricade, lights flashing red and blue against the dark Gotham skyline. Reporters swarmed, eager for any tidbit of information. Among them, Commissioner Gordon barked orders, trying to maintain control of the scene.

From a nearby alley, Robin, Red Robin, and Nightwing had arrived, their suits freshly donned after a delayed change. They exchanged grim glances, the gravity of the situation evident.

Inside the building, Bruce Wayne was catching his breath after narrowly surviving the Talon's brutal attack. Spider-Man stood nearby, his body tense as his senses screamed danger. The Talon had been downed, its lifeless body sprawled on the marble floor.

But then, it moved.

With an unnatural lurch, the Talon rose to its feet, its wounds knitting together before their eyes. The creature’s glowing gaze fixed on Bruce, and it lunged with deadly intent.

Spider-Man’s reflexes took over. His body moved faster than thought, and with every ounce of strength he could muster, he delivered a crushing uppercut to the Talon’s jaw. The impact was bone-shattering, sending the assassin flying across the room in a grotesque blur. The Talon smashed through a window, its body tumbling several stories before landing on a parked car below with a sickening crunch.

For a moment, there was silence. The GCPD surrounded the broken body, confirming the Talon was dead. News reporters eagerly relayed the scene to their audiences.

But death, as they would soon discover, was a temporary inconvenience for the Talon.

Hours later, as the Talon’s body was being transported to the city morgue, it stirred. The ambulance driver didn’t notice at first, but the faint sound of cracking bone made his partner turn. Before he could react, the Talon was on him, its blade slicing through flesh with horrifying precision. The driver screamed, but it was too late.

The ambulance veered off the road and crashed into a lamppost, but the Talon emerged unscathed, disappearing into the night, leaving a trail of blood and carnage in its wake.

Back in the Batcave, Bruce sat in silence, his jaw clenched as he reviewed the night’s events. On a nearby table lay the autopsy report of Alan Wayne, his great-great-grandfather.

“Alan Wayne died raving about owls stalking him,” Bruce said, his voice heavy. “Everyone dismissed it as paranoia, but the autopsy suggests otherwise. Torture marks. The same methods used on tonight’s victim.”

Peter stepped forward; his tone sharp. “So, the Court of Owls really aren’t just a myth?”

Bruce hesitated, memories of his obsessive childhood investigation flashing through his mind. “When my parents died, I wanted to believe there was a larger conspiracy. I thought the Court might be behind it. But I found nothing—just dead ends and false leads. It almost destroyed me.”

“Maybe you were looking in the wrong places,” Peter replied, his frustration evident. “Or maybe you didn’t want to see the truth.”

Bruce didn’t respond, but his silence spoke volumes.

Determined to find answers, Bruce delved into the records of buildings constructed by the Alan Wayne Trust. He discovered hidden bases within the structures, each containing chilling evidence of the Court’s existence: photos, documents, and a macabre gallery of past victims.

Despite his reservations, he donned his cowl. Batman’s investigation led him to a series of hidden bases built into Gotham’s infrastructure. In one, he discovered records detailing the Court’s operations over decades. As he pieced together the evidence, Batman became aware of a faint sound—a subtle click that set his instincts on edge. He leapt backward just as the explosion tore through the building, the force throwing him to the ground. Dazed but alive, he scrambled to his feet, only to come face-to-face with the Talon, emerging from the smoke like a spectre. The assassin wasted no time, launching into a ferocious attack with blades that gleamed in the flickering firelight.

Batman countered, his every move calculated but hampered by the disorienting effects of the blast. The Talon’s strikes were relentless, each one aimed to kill, and Batman found himself forced into a brutal close-quarters battle. Despite his skill, the Talon’s regenerative abilities and inhuman endurance made him a nearly unstoppable opponent.

Finally, as Batman landed a solid blow to the Talon’s chest, the assassin retaliated with a powerful kick, sending him crashing through a weakened wall. Before Batman could recover, the Talon seized the opportunity, delivering a series of rapid strikes that left him vulnerable. With a final, bone-chilling glare, the Talon subdued Batman and dragged him into the shadows, leaving only destruction and silence in his wake.

Chapter Text

Gotham City, August 31, 20XX

After Surviving the initial explosion, Batman scrambled to his feet, his ears ringing and his body battered by the blast. The acrid scent of smoke and burning debris filled the air as he assessed his surroundings. Before he could gather his thoughts, the Talon emerged from the haze, blades gleaming with deadly intent. Without hesitation, the assassin lunged, forcing Batman into a desperate fight amidst the wreckage.
The battle was ferocious, every strike from the Talon calculated to exploit Batman’s disorientation. Despite his injuries, Batman countered with precision, using the environment to his advantage. He dodged a swipe aimed at his throat, redirecting the Talon’s momentum into a broken beam. The assassin recovered instantly, his regenerative abilities making him a relentless adversary.
Batman landed a solid kick to the Talon’s chest, momentarily driving him back, but the assassin retaliated with a flurry of attacks that pushed Batman to his limits. As the fight raged on, Batman’s movements became more labored, the effects of the explosion and his mounting injuries taking their toll. Finally, the Talon delivered a devastating strike, knocking Batman off balance and driving him to his knees. Before he could recover, the assassin seized the opportunity, subduing him with brutal efficiency.

Bound and barely conscious, Batman was dragged into the shadows. The last thing he saw before succumbing to darkness was the Talon’s cold, emotionless gaze and the faint glimmer of an owl emblem etched onto a nearby wall. There, the Talon continued his merciless attack. Emerging from the shadows, two more Talon's struck with the precision of a predator, forcing Batman to defend himself in the tight, claustrophobic space of the sewers.

Every move Batman made was met with an equally calculated counter, the Talon’s relentless attacks exploiting every weakness. Blades clashed against gauntlets, and sparks illuminated the damp, oppressive walls as Batman battled with ferocity. Despite his skill and years of experience, Batman found himself pushed to the brink, his earlier injuries and fatigue leaving him vulnerable. In a final, brutal exchange, one Talon delivered a devastating strike to Batman’s side, the blade narrowly missing vital organs but incapacitating him. As Batman collapsed, his vision blurred and his body weakened, the Talon seized the moment, binding him with unyielding restraints. With cold, mechanical efficiency, the assassins dragged Batman even deeper into the depths of a labyrinth, the faint echoes of his own struggles haunting the silence that followed.

When he regained consciousness, Bruce found himself alone in the dark, shivering from the cold while his blood slowly tricked down from his wounds.

For over a week, Batman wandered the maze, each step heavier than the last as hunger gnawed at his stomach and hallucinations clouded his mind. The endless walls seemed to shift and close in, their surfaces etched with haunting images of the Court’s past victims. Whispers filled the air, indistinct and taunting, as if the labyrinth itself had its own beating heart and was reveling in his suffering.

Every shadow became a threat, every flicker of movement a potential ambush. Yet, amidst the haze of despair, it was thoughts of his family that kept Bruce tethered to sanity. Memories of Dick’s unwavering loyalty, Jason’s defiant courage, Tim’s sharp intellect, Damian’s fierce determination, and the quiet strength of Cassandra, Barbara, and Stephanie became his anchors. He clung to images of Peter’s glowing optimism and Peni’s bright laughter; his cousin, Kate’s resolute support and Duke’s steady presence bolstered him. Even Alfred’s gentle wisdom echoed in his mind, a reminder of the home and family waiting for him. Falling to his knees, Bruce clung to the fleeting image of family—his only spark of hope... Till he was bound once more, getting dragged deeper into the labyrinth, his captors determined to break the Bat once and for all.

The labyrinth truly felt alive in the worst way, an unending nightmare that sapped Bruce’s strength with each step. Its walls seemed to shift and contort, carving memories of failure into his psyche. The Court of Owls had designed the maze to break him—body, mind, and spirit. Every time he collapsed, hunger clawing at his stomach and hallucinations clouding his thoughts. They did not simply want Batman dead, that would be too easy. They wanted to destroy him and everything that he represents. To them, the Court of Owls were the only ones allowed to rule from the shadows.

As Batman regained consciousness again; his unyielding will the only thing left within him, he continued stumbling through the never-ending halls, the walls told stories of the Court’s past victims, each death more gruesome than the last. In his weakened state, in a dimly lit chamber, Bruce stumbled upon a grotesque tableau of his life etched into the walls. The imagery was detailed and cruel: his parents’ murder, Jason’s death at the hands of the Joker, and all his greatest fears distorted into nightmarish art. He turned sharply, sensing movement. A Talon emerged, attacking with lethal precision. Bruce countered despite his injuries, narrowly avoiding a blade aimed at his heart. The Talon’s strike grazed his side, and he staggered, blood pooling beneath him.

Back at Wayne Manor, the Bat-family felt Bruce’s absence keenly. A week had passed since the gala, Peter and Tim worked tirelessly to piece together clues from Bruce’s last known locations. Tim meticulously cross-referenced Gotham’s blueprints and crime scene reports, his sharp analytical mind leaving no detail overlooked. Peter, meanwhile, utilized his scientific expertise, running chemical analyses on materials found at the scenes and identifying unique compounds that might lead to hidden locations. Their combined efforts began to form a clearer picture, each discovery pulling the veil back on the Court of Owls’ network. Despite the weight of the situation, their teamwork created a small hope they may find their leader.

"This whole situation is kinda weird, don't you think?" Peter muttered with a sigh, wiping a droplet of sweat off his forehead.

"How so?" Tim asked, his focus still lingering on the monitor in front of him.

"It just feels... odd. Like, Bruce went after the Talon when he found out about what happened to the ambulance carrying him, now he's gone without a trace, for over a week."

"It's likely they're involved with his disappearance, but we don't know how or why."

"Maybe we're overthinking it. Maybe it's a lot simpler than what we're assuming."

"Hmm... continue."

"Something similar happened to me back in New York. Went on a school trip to Germany for two weeks. When the criminals realized I was gone, they became even bolder. If it weren't for Daredevil keeping the peace, things would've gotten messy. Kinda like what's happening in Gotham right now, with the sudden spike in crime."

"Hmm, so you think they planned this? Get Batman out of the way so more criminals can cause trouble? How does an organization that employ assassins benefit from that?"

"That's what I don't know. I know Bruce was investigating something called 'The Court of Owls', he mentioned something about them being a conspiracy, controlling Gotham from the shadows. But that's about all he told me."

Peter and Tim poured over the evidence again. The monitors displayed Gotham’s recent surge in crime—each attack more coordinated than the last. The Talons, thought to be relics of the past, had emerged as the Court’s enforcers, striking from the shadows.

Tim traced his fingers over a map of Gotham, marking each incident. “There may be merit in your theory, this crime wave definitely isn’t random,” he said, connecting the dots. “They’re targeting areas with historical significance to the Waynes or locations tied to Gotham’s elite.”

Peter nodded, arms folded. “It’s like they’re cleaning house—getting rid of anyone who might oppose them or uncover their existence. But why the spike in crime? You wonder if they're trying to bait us?”

Tim leaned back, sipping his coffee. “If the Court’s goal was chaos, it worked. But it doesn’t explain why they’d target Bruce directly.”

Peter paced, recalling the night Bruce spoke of the Court of Owls. “Bruce mentioned to me, something about his great-great-grandfather."

"Alan Wayne?" Tim raised a brow, Peter nodded back.

The duo pored over the evidence again. Scratching their brains for the link between Bruce and the Court.

Alfred soon entered, a plate of sandwiches and juice ready for the two teens, and a somber look on his face. “There’s something you should know,” he said, voice heavy with unease. “Master Wayne’s great-great-grandfather, Alan Wayne, was... convinced he was being hunted by owls before his death.”

Tim furrowed his brow. “I thought he died falling into the sewers, didn’t he?”

Alfred nodded grimly. “Officially, yes. But Master Bruce had exhumed his remains. The body showed signs of torture, and there were traces of a toxin—one we couldn’t identify. He believed the Court was involved but could never prove it.”

Peter frowned. “So, if Bruce was right and the Court really exists, they’ve been watching his family for generations.”

“Precisely,” Alfred replied. “They’ve always operated from the shadows, and they’ll stop at nothing to maintain control over Gotham.”

Tim examined the autopsy report from Alan’s exhumed remains, noting the chilling similarities to previous victims: signs of torture, mysterious symbols, and faint traces of an unknown toxin.

“He chased shadows for years after the death of his parents,” Alfred admitted to the boys. “Bruce, he wanted to believe in a grand conspiracy to explain their deaths. But the Court was a dead end—or so we thought.”

Peter folded his arms while Tim let his fingers dance over the Batcave’s keyboard, pulling up Bruce’s last known investigations. The ambulance carrying the Talon, the gala attack, and the maze-like structure beneath Gotham’s surface—it all fit together.

“They’re not just attacking Gotham’s elite,” Tim said, narrowing his eyes at the screen. “They were sending a message to Bruce. The gala wasn’t just about assassinating him; it was a declaration of war.”

Peter leaned over the monitor, examining the crime wave reports. “And with Bruce out of the way, the rest of Gotham’s criminal underworld feels emboldened. This isn’t just chaos—it’s controlled chaos. The Court’s letting the smaller criminals run wild while they consolidate power.”

Tim nodded. “It’s like a chess game. The Talons are the knights, taking out key pieces, while the pawns—low-level criminals—distract us.”

Peter snapped his fingers. “Exactly! And with Bruce gone, we’re stretched thin trying to handle everything.”

Peter and Tim’s theories began to crystallize. They replayed footage of the ambulance attack, noting how the Talon’s actions seemed almost rehearsed. The assassin had lured Batman into a trap, forcing him to confront the Court on their terms.

“What if they knew?” Peter asked suddenly, his tone serious.

“Knew what?” Tim asked, turning to him.

“About Bruce. About Batman. If they’ve been watching his family for generations, they might’ve figured it out.”

Tim frowned, the weight of the possibility sinking in. “That would explain why they targeted Bruce so directly. They weren’t just attacking a Wayne; they were going after Batman himself.”

“And if they took him alive,” Peter added, his voice tight with worry, “it’s because they want to break him. To show Gotham that even Batman isn’t untouchable.”

The pair continued mulling over clues and evidence, compiling their findings to present to the rest of the Bat-Family. Tim’s analytical mind and Peter’s scientific expertise uncovered more connections between the Court and Gotham’s recent unrest.

As Tim pinned the last piece of evidence to the Batcave’s digital board, he turned to Peter. “We’re getting close, but it’s not enough. We need Bruce back.”

Peter clenched his fists. “Then we keep digging. We’ll find him, no matter what it takes.”

The quiet determination in their voices echoed through the cave, a testament to the unbreakable bond of the Bat-Family and their resolve to bring their leader home.

While the two teens worked tirelessly, Peni found her own way to contribute. Unbeknownst to the others, she’d been working in the Batcave, using Sp//der to assist her. Dick, Damian, Jason and Cass were all out on patrol right now, while Steph and Duke are busy with their own investigations, leaving Peni with the freedom to work in secret.

Her first contribution was installing a voice modulator for Sp//der. Giving the Ai the ability to speak would make her future endeavors much easier.

In the dimly lit workshop nestled in the Batcave’s far corner, Peni adjusted the holographic schematics projected by Sp//der. Her hands moved with precision, soldering circuits and refining components under Sp//der’s guidance.

“I’ve recalibrated the energy regulators,” Sp//der chimed, its voice smooth and encouraging through the newly installed modulator. “This will ensure the thrusters maintain stability without overheating.”

“Good call,” Peni replied, a small smirk on her face. “But let’s add a failsafe—just in case I need a quick boost during a fight.”

Sp//der hummed thoughtfully. “An excellent suggestion. Initiating subroutine adjustments now.”

The two had been working in secret for the past week, piecing together a suit that would give Peni an edge in the field. The inspiration came from old Stark Industries designs Sp//der had accessed, repurposing arc reactor technology to create a sleek, metallic red suit with gold accents. Four golden, retractable spider arms extended from the back, their flexibility allowing for both combat and mobility.

The final assembly came together as Peni carefully affixed the miniature arc reactor to the suit’s chest plate. It glowed faintly, casting a warm light over her face.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, running her hand over the smooth surface.

Sp//der’s voice softened. “It’s more than that. It’s a symbol of your ingenuity, Peni. You might be better suited for this than even Peter. Anyway, are you ready to take it for a test run?”

Peni grinned, sliding into the suit. The material conformed to her small frame seamlessly, and the HUD flickered to life as Sp//der synced with the suit’s systems.

“Ready? Let’s show Gotham what we're made of!”

Peter and Tim received an emergency call from Red Hood; he, Nightwing and Robin were requesting back-up.

When Peter and Tim left the manor in costume to back up Jason, Damian, and Dick, Peni seized her opportunity. She slipped into the shadows, slinging from web to web as her suit’s thrusters gently propelled her silently into Gotham’s labyrinthine streets while slinging a web.

Her first stop was a small-time gang attempting to rob a convenience store in Otisburg, Burnley. Peni perched on the rooftop, the golden spider arms extending with a soft mechanical whirr.

“Okay, Sp//der, time to test the blasters,” she muttered.

A concentrated pulse of energy shot from her palm, hitting the crowbar out of one thug’s hand. Before they could react, Peni swung down, her retractable arms pinning two of them against the wall. The third bolted, but her thrusters launched her ahead of him, cutting off his escape.

“Leaving so soon?” she quipped, her voice modulated into a smooth, confident tone. “Didn’t even say goodbye.”

Peni chuckled to herself as she wrapped up the attempted robbery, pleased her first outing as a vigilante went well.

Later that night, as Peni navigated the city’s rooftops, she froze, sensing someone watching her. Black Bat emerged from the shadows, her movements silent and deliberate.

“Peni?” Cassandra said simply, her tone neutral but curious.

Peni’s shoulders tensed, of course she would recognize her, she knew body language better than anyone else. “Black Bat. Uh... fancy seeing you here.”

Cassandra tilted her head. “Nice suit. Does Peter know?”

Peni hesitated before sighing. “No. And I’d rather keep it that way for now.”

Black Bat crossed her arms, waiting.

“Okay, look,” Peni began, raising her hands defensively. “I’m just trying to help. Everyone’s stretched thin, and I thought... I could ease the load a little.”

Cassandra regarded her for a moment before nodding slightly.

“Wait,” Peni said, a grin forming. “You’re not going to tell him, are you?”

Cassandra smirked faintly.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Peni said, stepping closer. “I help you get closer to Peter—y’know, so you can, uh, spend more time with him—and you keep this between us. Deal?”

Black Bat considered her for a moment before extending a hand.

“Deal.”

Peni let out a breath of relief, shaking Cassandra’s hand.

"Do you have a name yet?"

"Uh..." Peni mumbled, wracking her brain for a good hero name, until Sp//der spoke up,

"Seeing as your suit contains Stark technology, Iron-Spider seems an appropriate name." The Ai stated; Peni's eyes went wide as a smirk spread across her lips,

"Iron-Spider... it's perfect!" She exclaimed in joy, Black Bat watched her with an amused smile.

"Come. Patrol with me." She said, Iron-Spider nodded readily, eager to show the rest of the family how formidable this six-year-old could be.

Their patrol led them to Gotham’s East End, where the faint sound of shattering glass drew their attention. They landed on the roof of the Gotham Art Museum, peering through the skylight. Inside, a figure in black with yellow webbed accents on his suit was prying a priceless painting from the wall.

Peni squinted. “Hey, Sp//der, who's that guy?"

The Ai made a quick hum as it searched through the bat-computer's database.

"Eric Needham, aka: the Black Spider." The Ai cooly replied.

"Wait a minute... Black Spider? Oh, come on! That's our thing!”

Cassandra frowned. “Copycat.”

“Exactly!” Peni exclaimed, her golden spider arms extending. “He’s totally ripping off my brother’s vibe. This guy’s going down.”

Cassandra nodded, her expression calm but her eyes sharp. “Pathetic. We both know a better Spider.”

“Right? Let’s show him how it’s done.”

The two girls dropped through the skylight simultaneously, landing with a dramatic flourish that startled Black Spider.

“Well, well,” Black Spider drawled, his voice dripping with smugness. “Looks like I’ve got company. Didn’t know the Bat was outsourcing to arachnids now.”

“Outsourcing?” Peni shot back, her arms flexing menacingly. “Buddy, you’re just a bad knockoff. My brother’s the real Spider.”

Black Spider scoffed. “Real Spider? Please. I’m the original—”

Before he could finish, Cassandra darted forward, her movements a blur. She delivered a swift kick to his side, sending him stumbling.

“You talk too much,” Cassandra said flatly.

“Yeah, what she said!” Peni chimed in, firing a web-like energy tether from her suit that wrapped around Black Spider’s wrist, yanking him off balance.

Black Spider recovered quickly, brandishing twin daggers. “You think you can take me? I’ve fought bigger and badder than you.”

“Maybe,” Cassandra replied, circling him like a predator. “But you’re still losing.”

The fight was fast-paced and dynamic. Cassandra’s silent, precise strikes kept Black Spider off-kilter, while Peni’s suit provided ranged support. She used her spider arms to disarm him, the golden limbs snapping his daggers away with ease.

At one point, Black Spider attempted to grapple with Cassandra, only for Peni to intervene, launching a pulse of energy that sent him skidding across the marble floor.

“Stay away from her!” Peni shouted, her modulated voice echoing. “Seriously, you’re not even good at being a spider!”

“Pathetic spider,” Cassandra added, effortlessly dodging his retaliatory strike and landing a punch that knocked him into one of the museum’s displays.

“Hey, watch the art!” Peni called out. “Do you know how much that stuff costs?”

Black Spider growled, clearly frustrated. “You’re just kids!”

“And you’re just a loser,” Peni quipped, her retractable arms pinning him against the wall. “Game over, knockoff.”

As the police arrived to take Black Spider into custody, Peni and Cassandra retreated to the rooftops.

“Well, that was fun,” Peni said, her voice cheerful. “He was, like, super lame. Right?”

Cassandra nodded. “Very lame. You did good.”

Peni beamed under her mask. “Thanks, Cass. You were amazing, by the way. Like, seriously, you’re so cool.”

Cassandra tilted her head, a rare smile crossing her face. “You’re cool too. And don't worry, I won’t tell Peter.”

“Deal.”

The two girls shared a moment of quiet camaraderie before leaping off into the night, their bond stronger after their first team-up. Cass chuckled to herself, thinking how Steph would react knowing she got to patrol with Peni before her.

Chapter Text

Gotham City, September 9, 20XX

The following day at the Batcave, Peter and Tim presented their findings to the rest of the Bat-Family. The tension was palpable as they gathered around the main console, the dim glow of the monitors casting shadows on their faces.

Peter cleared his throat. “We’ve been piecing together the clues about Bruce’s disappearance. We think the Court of Owls is behind it, and this isn’t just about taking him out—it’s bigger.”

Tim nodded, adding, “The recent surge in crime across Gotham isn’t a coincidence. The Court has always seen themselves as Gotham’s hidden rulers. With Bruce gone, they’re trying to reassert their dominance, manipulating the chaos to remind everyone who’s in charge.”

Dick frowned. “So, you’re saying they didn’t just take Bruce—they’re using his absence to destabilize the city?”

“Exactly,” Peter said, gesturing to the data on the screen. “The timing is too perfect. Bruce investigates the Talon at the gala, then disappears. Suddenly, we’ve got a crime wave, and no Batman to stop it. It’s a power play.”

Jason, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, scowled. “Typical. Take out the biggest threat and watch the city burn.”

Damian, pacing near the Batmobile, stopped and pointed at the screen. “But why leave the Bat-Signal on if they’ve taken Father? Wouldn’t they want to break the city’s spirit completely?”

Tim glanced at Peter before replying, “We think it’s because the Court knows Gotham isn’t just Bruce—it’s all of us. They’re testing us, seeing if we’ll crumble without him.”

“Then we won’t,” Stephanie said firmly, her voice cutting through the room. “We keep fighting, keep pushing back.”

Deep beneath Gotham, Batman’s sanity was fraying. Each step he took through the maze felt heavier, the oppressive silence broken only by the occasional echo of his own footsteps. The rooms repeated endlessly—each one a grotesque reminder of the Court’s dominion.

In the fountain room, the Owl-shaped sculpture seemed to mock him. The water shimmered invitingly, but Batman clenched his fists, his instincts screaming that it was a trap. His throat burned with thirst, but he refused to give in.

“Not their pawn,” he growled to himself, forcing his legs to move.

The portrait room was worse. Each face stared back at him, twisted with terror and madness. Each portrait contained the haggard face of an enemy of the Court of Owls, driven to madness and starvation by the maze. In the center of the room stood a camera on a tripod, waiting to take Batman's photo. Batman smashed the camera in a fit of rage, only to realize that his outburst played directly into their hands.

“They want me to break,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “They want me to join the others on these walls.”

His hallucinations grew stronger. The sight of his parents at the end of the hallway filled him with a fleeting hope, only for it to be dashed when they transformed into bloody owls. He stumbled, clutching his head, their laughter ringing in his ears. Batman, barely able to stand, continued aimlessly through the maze with no goal in mind, just a stubborn will to carry on.

When Batman returned to the photo room, his resolve faltered. A new portrait of him hung on the wall, his gaunt face a haunting reflection of his torment. The camera was there again, waiting, its lens staring like an unblinking eye.

“No,” he muttered. “This is my city. My story.”

But as he turned, the Talon struck. The blade pierced his side once more, and Batman gasped, collapsing to the ground. Blood seeped through his suit as the Talon loomed over him, silent and merciless.

Above ground, at GCPD Headquarters, the Bat-Signal’s bulb exploded, sending sparks flying as the lamp caught fire. Commissioner Gordon and Detective Bullock stared at the burning symbol; their faces grim.

“What do we do now?” Bullock asked, his voice heavy.

Before Gordon could answer, a voice interrupted.

“Replace it,” Damian said, standing behind them. His voice was firm, but his hands trembled. “As soon as possible.”

Gordon nodded. “We’ll keep it lit. For him. For Gotham.”

Damian turned away, his expression hidden in the shadows. But his words echoed with determination.

“We won’t let them win.”

At the Batcave, Peter approached Tim, who was agonizing over Gotham’s subterranean blueprints again, trying to find Bruce's location. Peter walked up to him slowly, tired of all the waiting.

“I need to get down there, Tim,” Peter said, his voice resolute.

Tim looked up, frowning. “We don’t even know where ‘there’ is. The labyrinth isn’t mapped. It’s a maze designed to trap and break anyone who enters.”

Peter shot a web at the map, pulling it closer to examine. “Don't care. I’ll follow the leads we’ve got. You said the Court has been using old, forgotten parts of Gotham, right? The Undercity?”

"Peter, don't be reckless. You can't—"

"I don't care, Tim! I've lost enough for one lifetime. First my parents, then my uncle, then aunt and girlfriend. I can't... I can't let it happen again, Tim. I refuse!"

Tim hesitated but nodded. “I know how you feel, but it’s massive. Even if you knew where to start, the Court probably has traps, Talons—”

“I know it’s a risk, but Bruce is down there. I can’t just sit here while he’s... wherever he is. If it was me down there, or you, Dick, Damian, any of us... he wouldn’t give up on us.”

Tim sighed, finally handing Peter a portable scanner. “Fine. But stay in contact. If you find something, call for backup immediately.”

As Peter got himself ready; putting on his suit and checking his web cartridges, Cass appeared behind him. Her breath was heavy and nervous, Peter could tell. She silently walked behind Peter, wrapping her arms around him. Peter felt a weight in his chest, he could tell she was worried as her arms shook around him.

"Do you have to go...?"

"I do..."

"..."

"..."

"I can come—"

"No, Cass. I've fought a Talon before, and back in my world; I've fought tougher. This is something only I can do."

"Just... Please... stay safe."

"I will."

That was all that was said before she let go, quickly walking away from Peter. He let out a soft sigh, he always felt bad making other people worry about him.

Spider-Man entered the depths of Old Gotham through an old maintenance tunnel, his Spider-Sense already tingling. The air was damp and heavy, the faint sounds of dripping water echoing in the darkness.

“Alright, Spidey. Just another creepy underground hideout. No big deal; wouldn't be the first time either.” he muttered to himself, trying to ignore the oppressive atmosphere.

As he ventured deeper, he encountered remnants of the Court’s presence—worn owl insignias etched into the walls, abandoned masks, and the eerie silence that seemed to press in from all sides.

After wading through the ruins for a few hours, Spider-Man stumbled upon a room with portraits eerily similar to those Bruce had seen. His eyes widened as he recognized a familiar face among them: Bruce Wayne.

“They’re messing with his head,” Spider-Man whispered, his fists clenching. “Not on my watch.”

Spider-Man rushed forward with reckless abandon, he regretted not finishing Batman's new suit, the added protection of the unstable molecules would've eased his mind, but it was too late for regrets now. Using his spider sense, he searched deeper and deeper into the catacombs, until he could hear a faint heartbeat further in.

Spider-Man had delved deeper into the labyrinthine catacombs beneath Gotham. The air was damp and suffocating, the walls lined with carvings of owls and names of those who had fallen victim to the Court.

His spider-sense flared as he crept through a narrow corridor. A Talon emerged from the shadows, its blade slashing toward him. Spider-Man ducked and countered with a web to the assassin’s face, blinding it momentarily. Using his agility, he vaulted over the Talon, delivering a powerful kick that sent it crashing into a wall.

More Talons appeared; their movements eerily synchronized. Spider-Man's heart raced as he realized he was facing a small army. “You guys sure you wanna do this? Because the last Talon I fought didn't fair too well honestly,” he quipped.

Spider-Man fought with precision, using his webs to disarm and immobilize as many as he could. One Talon lunged at him with a spear, but Spider-Man somersaulted over it, yanking the weapon away with a web. Another swiped at him, and he responded with a rapid flurry of punches and kicks, each one sending cracks through the assassin’s armor.

“These guys really don’t know when to quit,” Spider-Man said, panting slightly. He ducked under a blade and webbed two Talons together, slamming them into a third.

Despite their numbers and regenerative abilities, Spider-Man's relentless assault began to thin the ranks. He used the environment to his advantage, collapsing part of the ceiling to block a passage and limit their pursuit.

"Maybe next time, don't fight me in cramped spaces, it's kinda my specialty." He joked before darting closer towards the heartbeat.

As Bruce staggered through the endless maze, each step felt like dragging the weight of the entire city on his shoulders. The Talon’s blade had struck true, but it wasn’t the physical wound that gnawed at him—it was the gnawing sense of failure. The faces on the portraits haunted him, their hollow eyes a silent reminder of those the Court had destroyed, and the fear that he might soon join them.

The fountain loomed before him again, its crystalline water mocking him with false promises of relief. His throat burned with thirst, and his cracked lips begged for respite, but his resolve held firm. Poison. Deception. Control. The Court played with his mind, and he refused to give them the satisfaction.

Bruce sank to the cold floor, his back against the slick stone wall, shoulders slumping as if the weight of Gotham itself had finally become too much to bear. His breaths were shallow, his vision blurred, and for the first time in years, the great Batman allowed his façade to falter. Alone in the suffocating darkness, the mask wasn’t a shield—it was a prison. 

Bruce lay lifeless against the wall, his consciousness slowly fading, slowly lulling himself to sleep... until faint noise broke through his haze—a soft, familiar sound.

Thwip.

At first, he thought it was another cruel trick of the maze. His body tensed, his fists clenched weakly, preparing for another illusion.

“Bruce!”

The voice, warm and unmistakably real, pierced through his despair. His head snapped up, his weary eyes struggling to focus on the red-and-blue figure dropping from above.

“P... Peter?” His voice was barely a whisper, raw and uncertain.

Spider-Man crouched in front of him, his face unreadable beneath the mask but his voice gentle. “It’s me, Bruce. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”

The boy’s presence was like a tether, pulling Bruce out of the suffocating abyss of the labyrinth. For a moment, the Dark Knight—the stoic protector of Gotham—crumbled.

Bruce’s eyes widened, glistening with tears he hadn’t allowed himself to shed. With what little strength he had left, he pulled Spider-Man into a tight embrace, his arms trembling but unyielding.

“It’s you... It’s really you...” Bruce’s voice cracked, his words tinged with disbelief and relief.

Peter froze for a moment, taken aback by the raw vulnerability of the man he had always known as unshakable. Slowly, he returned the embrace, his own voice soft. “Yeah, Bruce. It’s me. I’m here to rescue you.”

Bruce held on a little longer before his grip faltered, and he leaned heavily against the Spider. “Th... thanks, chum,” he mumbled weakly, his breath warm against Peter’s shoulder.

Spider-Man smiled behind his mask, the word “chum” carrying a weight of history he didn’t fully understand but could feel. “You’re welcome, partner.”

Bruce let out a shaky breath, his voice low and hoarse. “I... I thought I’d lost. That they’d won. But... you found me.”

“And I’m not leaving without you,” Spider-Man said firmly. “You’re not alone, Bruce. Not now. Not ever.”

As Bruce clung to him, Spider-Man’s arms wrapped tighter, his resolve strengthening. The Court might have broken the Bat, but they hadn’t counted on the Spider. Together, they would find their way out of the darkness.

Before they could plan their next move, more Talons emerged from the shadows, blades gleaming. Spider-Man stood protectively in front of Bruce.

“Stay behind me, Bats. You’ve done enough for this city—it’s my turn.”

“You okay, Bruce?” he asked, panting.

Bruce nodded weakly. “Thanks to you.”

The Bat-Family arrived moments later, having tracked Peter’s movements. The relieved faces of everyone as they saw Bruce was enough to bring a tear to his eye. After the week he had been through, these faces were the only thing keeping him sane, keeping him alive. Dick and Tim helped Bruce into the Batmobile while Damian stood nearby, his expression a mix of relief and frustration.

“You should’ve brought me along.” Damian scolded Peter.

Peter shrugged, grinning. “He's out, and he's safe. That's all that matters.” Damian was unimpressed, but gave a begrudging 'Thank you,' to Peter before checking up on his father's condition.

While they were busy, the Bat-Signal burned brightly in the sky. Peter looked up, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. Gotham’s protectors were still standing—and so was its Dark Knight.

Chapter Text

After their harrowing escape from the labyrinth, Bruce had finally returned to the manor, where Alfred and Peni awaited with medical supplies and worried faces. Bruce barely stood upright, leaning heavily on Dick and Tim as they entered the Batcave.

“Master Bruce!” Alfred exclaimed, rushing to his side. “Sit down before you collapse entirely.”

Bruce waved him off, his usual stoicism cracking slightly. “There’s no time, Alfred. The Court... the Talons... They’re planning something big.”

Peter helped Bruce to the medbay, while Peni watched with wide eyes, her metallic spider suit still on underneath her oversized hoodie.

“What happened to you?” Peni asked, her voice a mix of concern and disbelief. “You look like you got dragged through Gotham’s underworld... Oh, wait, you did.”

“Not the time, Peni,” Peter muttered, gently easing Bruce onto the table.

Peni nodded along, trying to act like she hadn’t already been in her own fight earlier that evening. She had gone on another patrol with Cass while Peter was searching for Bruce. Beneath her hoodie, her metallic red-and-gold spider suit was concealed, the sleek arms folded neatly against her back. She could feel a bead of sweat sliding down her neck as she tried to play it cool.

Peter arched a brow, suddenly suspicious. “Wait, why are you still wearing a hoodie? It’s, like, a sauna in here. And what’s with that weird smell? Did you spill something?”

Peni’s mind raced. “Oh, uh… I was working on Sp//der’s cooling systems earlier. Got some coolant on me. Definitely not gross Talon guts or anything like that. Ew, right?” She laughed nervously.

Peter narrowed his eyes, leaning closer. “Peni, you weren’t... messing with my web fluid again, were you?”

“No! Geez, I can make my own anyway.”

Before Peter could press further, Alfred’s voice cut through. “Master Peter, you must be exhausted from your escapades during the night, why not have a quick snack?”

Peter gave Peni one last suspicious look before shrugging. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”

As Peter left, Alfred gave Peni a sly wink before following Peter. She let out a sigh of relief, Sp//der’s voice chimed in her ear, hidden in her suit.

“That was close,” Sp//der remarked. “You need to wash this suit before he figures it out.”

“I know, I know,” Peni whispered, peeling off her hoodie and stuffing the suit into her duffel bag. “But seriously, Sp//der—how did I do out there with Cass? Be honest.”

“You were impressive,” Sp//der replied. “Though I’d recommend fewer quips. Leave that to your brother. Also, next time, tell him before you sneak out.”

Peni rolled her eyes. “Yeah, like that’s gonna go over well. Let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?”

Sp//der hummed in agreement. “For now.”

As Peni slipped out of the Batcave to hide her suit, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. She wasn’t planning on sitting on the sidelines—she was making a difference, and Iron-Spider was just getting started.

Meanwhile, in a hidden lair deep within Gotham, the Court of Owls prepared their army of Talons. Rows upon rows of cryogenic pods lined the chamber, each containing a dormant assassin. The Court’s leader, a masked figure cloaked in white, addressed the assembly.

“Tonight, Gotham will know true order. The Dark Knight’s reign is over. Let the Talons fly.”

After some rest, the Bat-Family gathered in the Batcave once more, the atmosphere still tense. Bruce sat at the central console, his wounds freshly bandaged but his demeanor as stoic as ever. Dick stood off to the side, arms crossed and a storm brewing behind his eyes. Peter leaned against a workbench, observing the scene with a mix of curiosity and concern. Tim, Damian, and Jason stood nearby, each carrying their own unease.

“Alright, Bruce,” Dick said, breaking the silence. “There's still one thing bothering me about all this... Why was my DNA found under the nails of one of the Talons’ victims? You don't think I’m involved in this somehow, right?”

Bruce turned his chair to face the group, his expression calm but resolute. “No, I don’t think you’re involved. But this is connected to you, in a way neither of us could've expected.”

“What do you mean?” Dick pressed, his voice sharp.

Bruce tapped a key, and an image of the victim appeared on the massive monitor, alongside forensic data. “This victim was one of the Court of Owls’ targets, and during the investigation, I discovered your DNA under their fingernails. At first, I couldn’t make sense of it.”

He leaned forward, his voice steady. “But then I learnt something about the Court’s history—something about their recruitment process. The Court has always used Gotham’s youth as their training ground. Talons aren’t born; they’re made. They take children with promise, train them, and warp them into assassins. And the Court doesn’t just choose randomly—they take the best Gotham has to offer.”

The room was silent as Bruce continued.

“Decades ago, Haley’s Circus was one of the Court’s recruiting grounds. They would select children from the performers and train them in secret. You; Dick, were one of those children they had earmarked for their program.”

Dick’s eyes widened, and he took a step back. “What? Are you saying I was supposed to become one of them?”

“Yes,” Bruce said, meeting his gaze. “But you didn’t. Your parents’ deaths, you coming to live with me—it disrupted their plans. You escaped their grasp before they could initiate you. But your connection to the Court through the circus remains, but that's only part of the reason..."

Dick looked at Bruce with concern, almost reluctant to find out the rest.

"Explain, Bruce. What else?"

"The Talon that attacked at the gala, the one that ambushed me..." Bruce trailed off as he switched the image on display, showing a DNA test with a blood sample Bruce had collected "That Talon was William Cobb."

Dick raised an eyebrow, "Okay, but what does that have to do with it?"

"Dick, perhaps you might want to sit down for this."

"Just spill it."

Bruce sighed as he placed his fingers on the bridge of his nose, "Born on October 10, 1901, William Cobb was the son of an ironworker and textile worker who lost his life while working on a bridge... He is also your great-grandfather."

The room became deathly silent, the only sound being Dick's increased breathing.

"What? You're joking, right? Because you're not funny Bruce!" Dick chided, he wasn't angry at Bruce, he simply did not want to believe what he said. Bruce shook his head, unsure if telling Dick the full story was a good idea or not.

Dick ran a hand through his hair, pacing. “So what? They think they own me because they got my alleged great-grandpa in their ranks? No way. I’m not one of them, Bruce.”

“I know,” Bruce said firmly. “And that’s why they’ll come after you. The Court doesn’t tolerate loose ends. They’ll either try to bring you back into their fold or eliminate you.”

Peter chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. “So, uh, basically, they think you’re like a lost club member who didn’t pay the annual fees? That’s some next-level toxic behavior.”

Despite the tension, Dick smirked faintly. “Thanks, Pete.”

Bruce stood, his voice commanding. “This is serious. The Court of Owls isn’t just an enemy—they’re an institution rooted deep in Gotham’s history. They’ve been watching all of us for far longer than we realized. And now that we’ve disrupted their plans, they’ll come at us harder than ever.”

Dick squared his shoulders, his determination evident. “Let them come. If they think I’m going to roll over and let them dictate my life, they’re dead wrong.”

Bruce nodded. “Good. But we need to be prepared. The Court isn’t just coming for you, Dick—they’re coming for all of us.”

The Bat-Family exchanged determined glances. Whatever the Court of Owls had planned, they would face it together.

"Well, if we need to be prepared..." Peter spoke up, trailing off with a sly grin. The others all raised an eyebrow at Peter simultaneously.

“Remember when I told you it was possible to recreate Vibranium?” Peter asked, his grin widening.

“You mean the metal that’s supposed to be unbreakable and can absorb kinetic energy?” Tim interjected; his curiosity piqued.

“Yup.” Peter pulled out his phone, already dialing. “I’ve been working on some designs; they should be just about ready. Let’s get Lucius in on this.”

Bruce tilted his head. “Lucius is already assisting with upgrades. What exactly are you planning?”

Peter winked. “Trust me, you’re gonna love this.”

A while later, Lucius Fox arrived at Wayne Manor, carrying several briefcases containing prototype vibranium weapons based on Peter’s designs.

“I have to admit,” Lucius said, setting the cases on the Batcave’s workbench, “when Peter first told me about Vibranium, I thought he was overreaching. But he’s... well, let’s just say he’s made a believer out of me.”

Peter gestured to the cases. “I’ve tailored something unique for each of you. These weapons will help level the playing field against the Talons—and anything else the Court throws at us.”

Peter opened the largest case first, revealing a sleek new bat suit, in a slightly darker shade of grey, with a somewhat disproportioned bat on the chest. Bruce eyed the suit before glancing back at Peter, who had a toothy grin reaching his ears.

"I used your suit as a template, using the unstable molecules to create a suit specifically catered to your needs."

"Is the bat supposed to be that big?" Bruce inquired, Peter's grin widened.

"Oh, but that's the best part!" He exclaimed as he pulled out a retractable pole-staff, peeling the bat symbol off the chest like a sticker. It was flimsy for only a second before hardening instantly, changing its properties to match Vibranium.

“For Bruce: the bat symbol on your chest is now a functional weapon. It detaches to form a vibranium battle axe when attached to this staff. Think of it as a little extra persuasion for when fists aren’t enough.”

Bruce examined the weapon, his expression unreadable but impressed. “Effective. And intimidating.”

The next case held a pair of vibranium escrima sticks, lightweight but undeniably durable. “For Dick,” Peter said, “unbreakable escrima sticks. They absorb shock and energy, meaning you can hit harder and block anything the Court throws at you.”

Dick twirled the sticks experimentally, grinning. “Ooh, these are light. I could get used to this.”

“And for Damian,” Peter continued, revealing a sleek vibranium katana. The blade gleamed under the Batcave’s lights, a purple aura seemingly enveloping the blade. “Sharp enough to cut through just about anything, but light enough to keep up with your... energetic style.”

Damian’s eyes lit up as he unsheathed the blade, the corners of his lips aching upwards slightly. “Tt. Finally, a weapon worthy of my skill.”

“Jason...” Peter unveiled two vibranium bracers, sleek and fitted. “Initially, I wanted to make you a shield, but you don't really scream 'Captain America,' so I tried something different. These bad boys can absorb and redirect attacks while giving you some extra protection.” He mentioned, before pulling a hidden trigger in the brace, firing off a kinetic wave of energy. "Block attacks, absorb the damage, then unleash it back at them."

Jason smirked as he slipped them on. “About time someone catered to my hands-on approach.”

“For Cass...” Peter pulled out a set of specialized vibranium batarangs, along with a pair of lightweight vibranium arm guards. “These batarangs are sharper, sturdier, and designed for precision. They're magnetic too, so you don't need to worry about picking them back up, they always find their owner. The arm guards enhance your already incredible fighting style.”

Cass inspected the gear silently, bringing them closer to her chest as a subtle smile tugged at her lips. She gave Peter a nod of approval.

“For Steph,” Peter said, revealing a compact vibranium staff. “Collapsible, lightweight, and it doubles as an energy weapon. Just in case things get messy.”

Steph whistled, spinning the staff experimentally. “Presents? And it's not even my birthday.”

“And for Duke...” Peter held up a pair of vibranium-enhanced gloves, embedded with miniature shockwave emitters. “These can amplify your light powers, giving you an edge when things get up close and personal.”

Duke grinned. “These are awesome. Thanks, man.”

Finally, Peter unveiled a pair of miniaturized repulsor gauntlets for Tim. “These aren't Vibranium; instead, I used some arc reactor tech. They fire concentrated energy blasts, giving you both range and power.”

Tim’s jaw dropped as he examined the gauntlets. “Are you serious? This is... this is amazing!”

Peter grinned, looking at the assembled Bat-Family. “We’ve got the tools. Now, let’s show the Court of Owls that we’re not just some birds in a cage.”

Bruce nodded, his approval evident. “Good work, Peter. This will give us the edge we need.”

The Bat-Family exchanged determined looks, their resolve stronger than ever. The Court of Owls would soon learn they had underestimated Gotham’s defenders.

Bruce, despite Alfred’s protests, donned his new suit. Alfred winced, even knowing Bruce gulped down a pack of painkillers, he could see the man was still in pain, “We need to prepare. The Court is sending their Talons after key targets across the city.”

“You’re in no shape to fight, Master Bruce.”

“No,” Bruce said firmly. “This is my fight.”

“And you’ll lose it if you keel over halfway through,” Alfred countered. “You trained them all for a reason. Just take some time to rest, your injuries are still healing. Need I remind you, you do not have Master Peter's healing ability.”

Bruce hesitated but finally nodded. “Fine. But they need to stay coordinated. This is a war.”

Peni stepped forward, her gold-accented suit glinting under the Batcave’s lights. “I’m coming too.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “No, you’re not.”

“She’s coming,” Cass interjected, much to Peter's surprise and dismay.

"What? Cass what are you saying? And Peni, where'd that suit come from?" Peter muttered, earning a playful giggle from the two girls.

“She’s been training, and she’s got Sp//der backing her up. Plus, we need every set of hands—or legs—we can get.”

Bruce sighed. “You stay with Peter. Follow orders, don't run off on your own.”

Peni grinned excitedly, “Deal.”

"Wait, somebody owes me an explanation here!" Peter yelled, though it seemed nobody paid his outburst any mind.

As night fell, the Talons descended upon Gotham, targeting city officials, law enforcement, and anyone who posed a threat to the Court. The Bat-Family split into teams to counter the attacks.

Peter and Peni worked together, swinging through the city to intercept a squad of Talons attacking the GCPD. Commissioner Gordon and Harvey Bullock were pinned down, along with Detective Yin, their men were barely holding the line.

“Time to shine, kid,” Peter said, launching himself into the fray.

Peni followed, her suit’s golden spider-arms extending to block a Talon’s blade. “Nuh-uh, bad birdie!”

The siblings fought with seamless coordination. Peter’s raw strength and agility paired perfectly with Peni’s tech-enhanced precision. Sp//der, integrated into her suit, provided real-time analysis of the Talons’ movements, giving her a tactical edge.

One by one, they incapacitated the assassins, webbing them to walls and lampposts.

Bruce monitored the situation, directing the team from the Batcave with help from Oracle. His voice crackled through Peter and Peni’s comms.

“Spider, the Talons’ regeneration comes from a serum they were exposed to during their initiation. It’s vulnerable to extreme cold. Use it.”

“Got it, Bats,” Peter replied, firing a webline to a nearby fire hydrant. He yanked it open, dousing the Talons in freezing water as Peni blasted them with liquid nitrogen from her suit’s integrated arsenal.

The Talons slowed, their movements becoming sluggish as the cold worked its way through their systems.

While they were tidying up at the GCPD, the other Bats were sent on their own tasks. Bruce knew that the Court were eliminating potential threats to their rule, and one of the biggest threats being the Gotham Revival Project he had been painstakingly working on. He tasked the rest of the bats to safeguard the people on his list, for Bruce knew they were all targets.

In the bustling heart of Gotham’s Financial District, Nightwing and Robin worked in perfect harmony. The Talons had targeted a city councilman staying in a high-rise apartment, and the two vigilantes had to stop them before it was too late.

“Ready to dance?” Dick asked, twirling his new vibranium escrima sticks.

Damian smirked, his vibranium katana glinting under the neon lights. “Try to keep up.”

The first wave of Talons emerged, their cold, dead eyes locking onto their prey. Nightwing charged in first, his sticks crackling with absorbed energy as he slammed them into a Talon’s chest. The shockwave sent the assassin flying into a glass wall, shattering it.

“Don’t get cocky!” Damian called out, slicing through another Talon with surgical precision. His katana glided effortlessly, leaving no chance for the undead warrior to regenerate before the next strike.

The Talons swarmed, their claws slashing through the air. But the duo was unstoppable. Nightwing’s agility paired with Robin’s calculated aggression created a rhythm that overwhelmed their enemies. At one point, Damian vaulted off Dick’s back, his blade slicing through two Talons mid-air before landing gracefully.

“That’s how you do it,” Damian said smugly.

Dick grinned. “Not bad, kid.”

They reached the councilman just as a Talon closed in. Dick hurled one of his escrima sticks, the vibranium tip embedding itself in the assassin’s skull, ending the threat. “Let’s get him out of here.”

In the industrial sector, Black Bat and Spoiler faced a different challenge. A factory owner sympathetic to the Court’s enemies was their target. The Talons had set the building ablaze to cover their tracks.

Black Bat moved like a shadow, her vibranium batarangs cutting through the smoke and striking Talons with unerring accuracy. Spoiler, equipped with a vibranium-enhanced staff, fought with a mix of precision and flair.

“Control room, now!”  Black Bat said, her movements swift.

“On it!” Spoiler replied, spinning her staff to deflect a Talon’s attack before delivering a blow that cracked its skull.

The two moved as one, their combat styles complementing each other. Cass’s silent efficiency and Stephanie’s creative unpredictability kept the Talons off balance. At one point, Cass disarmed a Talon and used its weapon against another, while Spoiler knocked out two more with a wide sweep of her staff.

They reached the control room and shut down the factory’s systems, ensuring the fire wouldn’t spread. “Time to go,” Stephanie said, but not before Cass took down one last Talon with a devastating roundhouse kick.