Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bruce Wayne wasn’t sure how to react when his second-to-youngest son asked him about the circus that was coming to Gotham. For any other city, a travelling circus might not be the news of the month, but to Gothamites it was incredibly suspicious and unusual. The last time they had a circus in town, two of their main performers died and left behind their son (Bruce’s oldest child). Now, Bruce understood why his son was asking about it, because he trained him like that: be on high alert all the time, never trust anyone undeserving and question everything. They were detectives, it was their job to investigate and protect the citizens of their city.

And this circus was anything but inconspicuous.

Their main performers all wore masks or make-up that disguised their faces completely. They have been performing for years, around fifteen years at least, but they have never set foot in Gotham before. No one sets foot in Gotham unless they have no other choice or are incredibly stupid. Bruce wished it was the second option, but experience told him otherwise. Which is why he agreed to accompany his kids to go see one show of the Spiders’ Den.

He knew it was a recon mission, but a part of him felt happy to have an outing with his children. Not all of them went, Steph decided to cover patrol, Duke hated clowns and Dick… he didn’t need to know right now. Not until they had more intel.

The tent was big and colorful, the seats weren’t very high, but enough to see perfectly any trick by the aerialists. Just the thought of the trapeze artists flying around was enough to make Bruce mentally shudder. Not physically, he wouldn’t let anyone see him get scared. The trapeze was very high, one wrong move and it’d be the Flying Graysons all over again. Cass decided to go find the perfect seats with Tim while Bruce went to buy the drinks and popcorn.

While he paid the food-stand man, he thought he felt a piercing gaze set upon him, he turned thinking it was one of his kids but as soon as he did that, he realized there was no one there, or that’s what it seemed. That was weird. He went back with two large buckets on one arm and three drinks on the other. He doesn’t usually drink soda, it was too sweet and artificial for him, but Cass enjoyed it quite a lot and who was Bruce to deny her anything, really?

“Saw something interesting outside, B?” Tim asked him, taking a fist of popcorn to his mouth.

“Couldn’t be sure. I thought I saw someone, but there was no one when I turned.”

“Huh… Oh, shit is about to start.”

A drum roll started, and people were edging their seats as they impatiently cheered for the show to commence. From a purple cloud, a masked fat man appeared wearing a red and blue three-piece suit and a tall black hat, he was wearing a cheshire grin that was equally parts charming and alarming.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome, my friends, to the spiders’ den,” he said everything with a rhyming cadence. They were probably the only three people there that had a bad feeling about the whole show. “Widen your eyes, open your minds and wait to see them shine. My spiders love to crawl, and they love to jump.” He said as a rope fell from the ceiling, he held onto it and started getting lifted away. “And don’t be scared, my prey, if you get caught in a spider’s web.”

The music was loud, but not uncomfortable, for the whole show. The performers were enchanting, Bruce was somewhat pleased to see his fellow Gothamites happy for once, they were elated and laughing like they haven’t in a while. It was a nice reminder of his reason to do what he did, it was for them.

Cass was studying the room, in more detail than before. She was a trained spy, made to feel every eye and any threat that may come her way. She was sensing something but couldn’t pin-point what or where it was. To her, it seemed to be everywhere. Like a real spider, crawling around the tent and sizing them up. After a few minutes, however, that feeling went away. Nonetheless, her wariness didn’t go away; in fact, the opposite happened, and her mind just studied the place even further.

Tim wasn’t handling the place much better; he was filming the whole place with a small camera hidden on his glasses, a small gadget he helped perfectionate by making the image was the highest resolution possible (his next step was installing a mic that could capture any sound in a seven foot radius), he already had a few working theories and he looked around for anything to confirm them. Even if the circus was nice and had a stellar reputation, why on earth would they come to Gotham of all places? The city where one of the main bad guys was a clown. He trembled at the possibility of the circus being under the control of the Joker. Previously, he had looked into the cities they toured in, and they didn’t have a pattern, some nights were in Central City, Missouri and then they popped up at Costal City, California. They were getting around fast and without continuity, which meant they weren’t doing shows in between cities. That worried him the most, because it meant they had an objective in each city they were in and the circus, was most probably, just a front. They usually stayed three nights, but that wasn’t consistent either, as if they had to disappear fast. It wouldn’t have been weird if the circus was a drug front or the like, maybe it had deals with some Mafiosos.

“My friends, my guys, the moment you’ve been waiting for just arrived. He’s strong, brave and fast, small but with talent to last. Everyone, let me introduce you to Spider-Man.”

The light dimmed, taking them out of their minds and making them focus on the show. A red and yellow kid with a domino mask with eight eyes drawn on it climbed to the top of an aerialist platform, Bruce thought he climbed the stairs very fast and took a second to notice that the stairs for the platform were gone. When he made the first jump, Bruce felt the nostalgic déjà vú creep from the bottom of his heart to the top of his brain. He felt teary-eyed. The second trick was even more impressive, his body bent as if bones were a joke to him, he rolled in the air like gravity was his to manage. While grabbed to the bars, he spined with two hands, one hand even with no hands, just his torso and his fast movements.

For the third trick, he tried to reach the catching bar, but he flew too short to succeed, and he was falling. The bars disappeared in the dark, and when Spider-Man was about to meet his death, a web came out of his wrist and caught him before his demise. Everyone gasped and cheered for him as he continued with an aerial silk act, with the silk that “came out” of his wrists. He dropped himself and picked himself up at a speed difficult to comprehend, not even the up-beat music could keep up with Spider-Man. He did the splits in the air, but something about them was off, Tim couldn’t explain what it was. Maybe if Grayson was there, he could explain better.

For the last trick, the MC came out and addressed the audience. Spider-Man maintained distance between them, walking away step by step. No one even noticed when he disappeared until the MC pointed it out:

“Is he here? Is he there? Where could have a spider crawled away?”

Small and trembling hands covered Bruce’s face. He didn’t even notice someone was behind him. And for just a second, he felt scared. The kid’s presence was one he knew very well, the presence of an assassin.

“Bruce Wayne, in the flesh! Would you mind stepping into the stage?”

It was an invitation to be part of the act, he wanted to decline, but Brucie Wayne would never turn down the invitation to shine.

“Oh, but of course. Here, Tim, take my popcorn!” The arachnid kid guided Bruce through the crowd of people clapping. Next to the child, Bruce could tell he was very young, maybe ten at the most. One the one hand, the kid inspired such a familiar feeling in him, his heart wanted to lower his guard and take the child home. On the other hand, there was a possibility that the kid was trained. He was sure his own children took note of that. “Wow, kid. Strong grip, you’re gonna take my arm off.”

The kid froze for a moment and gave him a face that was a mix of sorry and embarrassment. He softened his grip and Bruce smiled at him. The public laughed because how could a kid hurt a grown adult? However, the kid was truly strong.

Once they were on the stage and people cheered him on, the MC told him to stand in the middle of the stage as a ring hanging from a silk lowered and Spider-Man wrapped himself around it.

“Now, ladies and gents, Bruce Wayne will spin and fly and probably pee his pants!”

 The crowd wanted to laugh, but they were interrupted when Spider-Man, the little kid that was as heavy as a wet leaf, lifted Bruce with just his arms and upside down. The ring spined around and people stood up trying to touch Bruce, but they were too high up. Bruce was surprised, he was six foot two, built like a brick and could bench-press Superman. And the kid was holding him like he weighed less than a sheet of paper.

When they stopped, Brucie made a show of getting dizzy and holding his head.

“God, what a ride! You’re something else, kid!”

Spider-Man looked at him and then at the public as he flexed his biceps showing the slightest amount of muscle. His body was more similar to one of a dancer, or spy, than a bodybuilder.

The child looked at Bruce with that horrible creepy mask and smiled at him.

Bruce saw Dick, and when he asked for a hug, the adult couldn’t refuse. And luckily, he didn’t, because when he bent down to bring the child into his arms, Spider-Man whispered in his ear:

“Help me, Batman.”

Richard Grayson knew about the travelling circus that was coming to Gotham since it was the only thing anyone could talk about. Wally tried to keep him distracted but even the people at Blüdhaven were excited for it. And he couldn’t blame them, that particular circus was fairly famous for a travelling circus, they had very talented performers and recently they added a new act with a kid that they called Spider-Man. The Spiders’ Den had everyone dressed as a spider, some even had fake extra legs and masks with eyes on them. It was an interesting gimmick that attracted a lot of people.

When Dick watched a video of Spider-Man’s act, he knew he had to go and see it for himself. He felt something impossible to explain, but if he had to try, the closest synonym he could come up with was nostalgia. Something about the kid was so much like he was in the past. He was very young—maybe even the age Dick was when he lost his parents—and he wasn’t performing with anyone; it was just him alone. He was clearly very skilled because he had perfectly captured the essence of a spider with his act.

Wally and he went to the circus because Dick needed to put a name to that feeling on his chest. He became confused when that feeling turned into a fluttered as the kid danced in the air and controlled his movements like a professional of many years.

“… You’re gonna take my arm off.”

His heart stopped when he saw his dad being swung around like Diana’s Lasso of Truth. He knew there were techniques for a smaller person to carry a larger person and make it seem like no effort was put into it, but it didn’t seem like that. There was a chance the kid was a meta with superstrength, he could be Kryptonian even. But Dick put that thought aside and wondered why his dad and his siblings were there. He can understand why they didn’t tell him, but why were they there to begin with? Was it a mission?

There was something deeper going on.

When the show ended and everyone went home, Dick knew he had to find Spider-Man.

“Wally,” he was going to tell his improvised plan to his boyfriend, but he just gave him a knowing smile.

“Copy that.”

The MC was talking to a girl, Spider-Man was nowhere in sight. The girl was young, maybe around seventeen, and was clearly uncomfortable around the grown dressed-to-impressed man. She was looking around for someone, but before they could interfere, Spider-Man appeared, still wearing his mask but wearing comfortable clothes instead of his suit. The simple tee and the Bermuda jeans allowed Dick to see the bruises on his skin. Some of them he could have gotten when he was training, but there were finger marks on his neck and wrist…God. Spider-man gave the woman a look and a wallet, then he bowed to her like a true showman.

She ran away. Dick confirmed something was off.

The MC grabbed angrily Spider-Man’s arm, he grabbed it so hard Dick feared it could break.

“Ya’ messing with ma’ game, Parka’? ‘ready tolcha to not interfere. Ya’ lucky we rescued ya’, kid. Whatta about some goddamn respect? C’mere!”

Dick was about to walk up to him and punch him in the face, it would’ve been his right. But Wally stopped him and pointed to some of the crew:

“They’re armed, Dick. We need a strategy.”

At that moment, his phone vibrated. It showed a message from his family group chat:

Possible trafficking front. The Spiders’ Den. Everyone to Cave.

-Luv, Buttman.

Tim, eliminate that signature from my phone.

-Luv, Buttman.

“The Bats are already on the case. I have to go to the Cave.”

Wally knew better than appear not invited to the Batcave, especially if it was case related. Dick’s dad was a great superhero, and an okay man most of the time, but he didn’t like other heroes meddling in Gotham. It wasn’t their place, although sometimes Wally could get away with it since he’s been living in Blüdhaven for a year and has been dating Dick for longer, still, it wasn’t time to discuss that. Dick walked into the cave where most of his brothers and sisters were already waiting for him.

“All of us are here,” Bruce said. Dick knew everyone that needed to be there was there, but he hated when his dad said that like Jason shouldn’t be around. Like he wasn’t part of the team. Well, he wasn’t anymore, but he should be. If he wasn’t busy stomping over people’s head. “Tim, tell us what you found.”

“During the last fifteen years, the Spiders’ Den has appeared and reappeared around the US without a concrete pattern, and from every city they were in, someone from their crowd has disappeared. We can confirm that eight kidnapping cases from the last fifteen years have been of people that attended their shows.”

“We’re talking more than two thousand over fifteen years, and we only have eight. During those years they changed crew, leaders, acts and popularity. That’s not enough proof. It’s not even one percent of the shows they did.” Duke said.

“True, but in the last two years, there have been three cases of girls that were kidnapped from a state and reappeared, traumatized and speechless, in another state. And you know what they all had in common, they disappeared from and were found in the states the circus was in. Now, we don’t have proof they went to the circus, after all they don’t charge entrance and their cards didn’t show any activity that specified circus or Spiders’ Den, but one of the girls was found with a bunch of spider bites that sadly, ended her life.”

“We could invite the current boss of the circus, right? Like a welcome-to-Gotham banquet as the Wayne’s? We could pretend to have heard about their other business and see if they let slip anything?” Stephanie suggested, and it wasn’t a bad idea, not at all. However, Bruce and Dick weren’t convinced.

“It’s risky. Plus, if they are trafficking and that comes to light, it could damage the image of the Wayne family. We can’t involve ourselves with such a scandal. And even if we ended up as the heroes, our covers could be blown. No one would believe Bruce Wayne just found out the truth on his own.”

“We could use Spider-Man.” Dick suggested as his stomach rolled disgusted with the idea. Batman stood quiet, looking at Dick discerning if he knew something and wasn’t sharing. However, Bruce was hiding something, too. “I’ll tell if you do.”

“It’s not truly a secret. The kid was the one who asked for my help. But, when he did, he called me Batman. He knew who I was, I don’t understand how, but hey, it wouldn’t be the first time a kid found out my identity.” He looked at Tim, who chuckled a bit.

“Don’t go and surprise adopt him, dad. He’s traumatized enough.”

“I went today to see the show,” Dick confessed, and gain the attention of everyone around. “And I stayed until the end because I had a bad feeling. And thank God I did, the MC was trying to flirt with a girl who was too young for him. Like teenage young, and when Spider-Man helped her ran away, the guy became violent with him, screaming about how he ought to be grateful. It was brutal.” He couldn’t bring himself to explain the rough state the kid was in. His heart hurt.

“But how could we approach Spider-Man? If he’s a victim, he won’t be doing regular activities, he probably can’t get away from them for even a minute!” Damian voiced his opinion, but to that Cass had a response.

“Jason.”

The air tensed and no one wanted to voice their opinion. Their crime lord brother was a sensitive topic. One of them but who didn’t do things by the book. Red Hood was a known criminal with a long list of bodies that created castles of horror just by mentioning his name. Yet, Jason… he was still Dick’s little brother. That didn’t mean Cass wasn’t right, Red Hood could get in touch with the boss and talk “business”. Only Gothamites knew he wouldn’t hurt a kid, to the rest of the world, he was just a brutal and merciless killer.

“I’ll talk to him.”

“YOU FUCKER!” Leo slapped him so hard he fell to the ground. Peter didn’t defend himself, he couldn’t. They had tied him up and Peter didn’t fight it. They kept him fed, they gave him a roof and a job, they promised to not call his last place if he kept quiet. So, Peter didn’t fight. “Ya’ know we have a client that’s picky, he liked them like that. Young, dark hair, real nice and polite. He wanna give us tons of his cash. Didja wanna take her place? Y’know what he do to girls like that?” Leo grabbed his hair and smacked him once more.

“You told me to go find her wallet. I did.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, kid.” His voice was raspy, and spit came out of his mouth and splatted on Peter’s face. “Want me to call yer mama? Betcha she wanna see ya ‘gain.”

“No. Nononono. Please, Mr. Leo, I can’t go back.” He hated his weakness. If he ever got out, that part of him would die and rot.

“Untie the kid.” His boss ordered. Bald and Flaco followed the order, getting rid of the rope around Peter’s wrists. He ran to Leo’s legs and hugged them. He wanted to throw up; he disgusted himself when he acted like a wounded puppy that couldn’t live without its owner. But he did it to survive. “Look at ya’, I couldn’t let that son of a gun put a finger on ya’.” He petted Peter’s head as if love was a word he knew, as if his heart wasn’t a window to one of the circles of hell.

Peter hoped someone would come.

He knew he met Batman today. It was obvious to him. He liked studying after all, and books for kids were mostly about the heroes of the city. And when he was able to use the library, he would spend all of his time researching the heroes. When he read about Batman and his family, it was obvious to him that he was Bruce Wayne: If Batman adopted a child, Bruce adopted a child; If Batman got seriously injured, Bruce got injured. And there weren’t many billionaires with a moral compass in Gotham, so yeah. Bruce was Batman. No matter how hard he pretended not to be.

“Now, now. Doncha cry me a river, kid. We can’t let our main performer get tired. Everyone comes to see ya, Pete.”

Peter arrived at the Spiders’ Den about two years ago, maybe a little more than that, after he escaped his mother, a scientist and ex C.I.A that became obsessed with the idea of being watched and persecuted. She went crazy, they were living underground with very little to eat or do, he was only allowed to train. After a few years, they moved to a research facility where they poked him and passed him around. Everything was a fog, he could barely remember a thing. The only thing he knew about the place was that he couldn’t go back.

He ran into Leo when he was nine, although he didn’t look it. Peter had saved his life, and he regretted it so much.

Peter was dumpster diving when he heard the first gunshot, his sixth sense acted fast and pulled the stranger behind the dumpster with him. Leo was being chased by his last dealer, he didn’t have enough money because the circus wasn’t performing well, and he was lacking victims. His circus was a front for trafficking, although Peter didn’t know that at that time. And a few years ago, it was performing poorly and therefore they didn’t have a big enough pool to fish for their next victim. Their clients were picky, they had specific requests, and they wanted to appease them. Leo had inherited the business from his dad, who was deep in debt and a bad move from him, and he was done.

“Damn kid, yer strong.”

The guy that was chasing him found them and Peter attacked, a few punches to the gut and the dude was down. Leo laughed next to him and hugged him. It was the first time someone had hugged Peter (with the years, that sign of love would become a source of nightmares for him.)

“Y’know, kid. Imma make ya a star.”

Peter trusted the wrong person, told him about his past, and he found out way too late about his mistake. He had started performing with the Spiders’ Den and became somewhat famous on social media. A small kid with the strength of a thousand men and the flexibility of a real spider. Spider-Man was the main earner of the circus, so they kept him around.

They gave him a roof, food that he didn’t have to hunt for, and sometimes they even gave him love. For a while, that was enough. He could sometimes help victims escape. Even if he couldn’t. He even had his own room; he slept on the roof. It felt nice to make himself a ball and sleep in a corner upside down. His body was part spider, after all.

Now, he was just angry. Angry at himself, at Leo, at the fucking goons for doing what they were told, and at the heroes for never rescuing him. Although he was confused with that last one, because if the heroes put away Leo and his crew then Peter would have to go back to the street, no one would look kindly at him if they knew he stayed with them. Maybe the heroes would take him to jail, too.

Someone was at his door. He could hear them.

“Come in!” Peter shouted and through the door came Benny, an old guy that owed a pretty big debt to the Den, he never told Peter what he did, just that he regretted a lot what he did. He usually brought him food and lent him some of his books about chemistry and math. He taught him a lot, how to care for plants, how to look at people kindly. Peter liked him. “Benny!”

“Oh, my boy. What did he do to you?” Benny was a New Orleanian with a smooth voice and a kind smile. “I swear, one of these days I’ll lose my cool. How can he do this to you, my boy?”

Peter felt loved when he called him “my boy”.

“How much today?”

Benny was in charge of the lighting and special effects. He earned little, but he promised that once he repaid his debt to Leo, they would both ran away and never look back. He was one of the reasons Peter stayed.

“$102, my boy. We just need two grand more and we go away, kid. No more of this life, you already thought of your new name?”

“I’ll be Matt, it sounds really cool. Yours?”

“I’ll be Richard, like my dad.”

“My dad was also named Richard!” He said, although he wasn’t completely sure about that. His mother once said something about a Richard being the other DNA for Peter. He hadn’t wanted to probe, so he had left it at that. But he remembered.

“You’re adorable, kid. Never change.”

Benny ruffled his hair, and Peter stayed silent. He had to change, but for a second, he left himself believe he was fine.

 “Any last words pig?” Jason was sitting on his chair while reading an old romance novel. In his other hand, he had a gun pointing to a guy who was tied up and terrified. “Huh, nothing. Not even like this?”

“Please, forgive me. I’ll never do it again.”

“Ya stole from me, pig. Forgiveness and pity don’t mend the past. Ya broke it, ya pay for it.”

“NO—”

Red Hood shot. His guys took the man away.

Then Nightwing made himself know.

“I hate that you do this.”

“No one will miss that piece of shit, stealing from me was the least of his evils.” Nightwing got closer to his brother with a piece of cloth and cleaned his face with care. It was one of the little gestures Jason would let him do without his anger acting up. “Whatcha doing here, golden boy?”

“We need your help—”

“Ha, that’s rich. The old man needs me? His screw up? That’s a joke, right?”

“We need you to get in contact with the boss of the Spiders’ Den.”

“Leonardo Avantico? That guy?”

“You know him?” Dick was surprised, he didn’t expect that. If their suspicions were correct, Jason would not have left him get away with any more kidnappings. And Spider-Man would be safe.

“His dad was kind of a cautionary tale, a junkie that thought he was the shit and lost everything in one day. Haven’t heard about them in a while.”

“So, they are dirty?”

“I mean, yeah. They were. I don’t know about that.” That helped Dick to understand the situation better.

“We believe Leonardo is trafficking children and is currently holding a kid hostage.”

Red Hood squirmed in his chair; his eyes started to glow toxic green.

“Is that so?”

“If you can get in contact with him and find out his true business before they go away again, we believe we might be able to save two girls and the kid they have hostage. He asked for our help, Hood. I saw him… beaten, weak. He was like ten, just a little boy. He shouldn’t know about those tragedies at that age.”

“You and I saw tons of that before that age.”

“And now you’re a crime lord with daddy issues and I went on a killing rampage just a few years ago. Your point?” Red Hood chuckled and punched his brother softly. “Oh, and one more thing. Something I haven’t even told da— B.”

“What is it?”

“The kid is probably meta.”

“How d’ya figure?”

“He’s a performer, and he was able to lift B like it was nothing. I was able to convince them it could’ve been SFX. I wanted to be sure first, because if B found out we were dealing with a meta child, he could do something dangerous. He wouldn’t wait and just act because he would know how much damage that child could do.” One of the goons brought him a chair so he could sit and chat with his brother. They were in one of his many safe houses, one of the few Dick knew about.

“Damn, a meta kid. Who knows what kind of shit he saw, and what he could do.” Red Hood inclined his chair and bounced it.

“Are you in, little Wing?”

“All the way, big Wing. I promise we’ll get this guy. And if we do, B better catch him first or I’ll apply my own justice.”

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

When Benny first met Peter, he thought of him as broken. A damaged kid with cracks too deep to be mended. Benny wanted to kill Leo right there and then, how dare he bring a child into their lifestyle? And what did he have plan for him? He came in announcing he had found the solution to their money troubles. An extremely talented meta that millions would pay to see perform. And Benny hated to admit it, but the kid was a money-maker, and they were bringing in more money than ever before. For the first few months, the kid didn’t talk at all. Benny always tried to make him feel okay, at first because he also saw him as the money machine of the group, Benny was desperate, he needed to get away as soon as possible from those monsters. Then, he brought a very soggy pizza for everybody to enjoy, and he saw Peter smile brightly for the first time.

He saw the kid behind the scars and the silks, there was Peter.

And Peter was a brilliant kid, quick-witted, somewhat sassy, a grade-A survivor and he loved sciences and maths. Peter liked reading and would take the opportunity to read anything in sight: books, traffic signs and shampoo instructions. Peter was courageous, always ready to try a new act, rehearsing whenever he had the time even if his talent alone was enough.

“I can’t get this trick to work,” Peter had said once when trying to nail a trick: an upside-down split on silks that ended with him falling rapidly and catching himself in a regular split. “The speed is not right, and the second split is too V shaped.”

“It seems fine to me, boy.”

“It’s not. It needs to be perfect; we’ll get more money if I perform better and you can pay your debt.”

But above all things, Peter was kind.

“Would you come with me, when I go away?” Benny asked him. It was something he thought about a lot. Peter was a kid that needed protection, and Benny was an old man that needed family. They were both broken, but maybe their broken pieces would fit together. Peter looked at him with eyes wide opened as if he couldn’t believe it.

“You want me?”

“Oh, kid,” Benny brought him in for a hug, Peter stiffed for a second but let himself be hugged, be loved. “you’re a great boy, it’s impossible to not want you.” Peter cried on his shoulder; it was the first time Benny saw him shed tears of happiness. He got tired of crying so much that the old New Orleanian had to tug him in to sleep.

Benny had to come up with a plan for when they left, a place to stay, a job to pay for food and rent. Benny needed contacts. Which is why, during the presentations, he would chat it up with whomever he could. He would leave the control booth during intermission and look for people with money in the crowd. Most of the times it ended in nothing, just a pleasant conversation. But there were kind enough people, which threw him for a loop. There were nice folks that would give him their numbers.

That was his biggest mistake. Leo found out about his little escapades, about his people skills and considering he was thousands of dollars in debt, he was not in a place to refuse his offer:

“Help us get them alone, we’ll give you the description, you’ll find them and keep them here until we can strike. Ask for help, steal their wallets, do whatever you need.”

“I ain’t doing that, sir. I promised not to snitch, but hurting innocent people ain’t my—”

“Your thing? Oh, Ben… but if hurting an innocent life is what got you in my hands in the first place. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. I’ll be kind enough to double your pay… after you do this, you’ll be out of here in no time.”

And Benny thought about it. He hated himself for a lot of reasons, but how could he live with himself if he separated families? Daddies that can’t go home to their kids, wives that could widow, all because of his mistakes. Leo gave him until the next hunting to come around. Benny thought if he was going to die, he would die protecting families.

A night after that, Peter was polishing his act. He was so high up that Benny thought his heart would give up as soon as the kid started free-falling. Peter was a spider; he bent his body in all directions and forms and climbed as easily as he walked. He never smiled when he trained, but during his performances he was a whole showman, white pears and all.

When Peter fell and caught himself, he cheered himself with excitement. And Benny was just as happy as him. The kid ran to him and jumped in his arms.

“That’s my boy! You did it!”

As they celebrated, Benny thought harder. More money meant saving Peter, protecting that fragile smile that had few opportunities to shine. More money meant he could go back to ignoring this part of the world, it meant starting anew. How many lives was protecting his boy worth? The answer was all of them, the world for Peter.

If he was going to die, it’d be protecting his family.

He knew Leo knew about his decision, Benny thought he was going to puke his guts out their next show. He was looking for a mature looking woman, around twenty-five years old—still a fetus in Benny’s old eyes—with curly hair and dark skin. They were in Minnesota, and he felt like a piece of trash observing around the crowd for a poor woman whose life would soon be ruined.

They were doing the sendoff for the other victim the following night, their last victim was a guy on his thirties, with glasses and very little muscle to fight against them. Because they had so little time, they needed a successful hunt that night or their next client could come for their heads.

He found the girl, stole her wallet and put it in the boss’ desk. He debated himself if he should take away some of the money, but he decided not to. He already was enough of a monster. He decided to ignore whatever happened next, the screams from the girl, the guilty expression in Peter’s eyes whenever he heard them. Benny couldn’t recognize his face in the mirror, but he hadn’t been able to in a long time. His eyes saw too much to be his, and his mouth licked so many boots that it disgusted him to eat any food. He was getting too skinny, if his mother—who rest in peace—saw him, she’d feed him as much homemade orange chicken as she could.

His mama would’ve liked Peter. She used to love everyone he loved.

After that girl, Leo paid Benny $200. Double of what he would’ve made on a regular night.

That girl escaped her captor; she had gotten her hands on a sharp knife. They saw it in the news. Peter was hiding his grin at the news and Benny got worried. If Leo ever found out about the kid’s shenanigans, who knew what he’d be capable of.

“Pete, if you’re gonna help these people rescue themselves,” Benny couldn’t call them what they actually were: victims, prey. Because it would mean he was a hunter. “Then you need to be sneakier about it. The boss’ ain’t above hurting kids. Y’know?”

“I do. I’ll try to do better, next time.”

Benny dreaded next time.

“So, d’ya think ya’ll get me my show?” The person on the phone said, it sounded like a man who was still young but smoked quite a lot.

“For the right amount, I’ll get ya the world.”

“Just the show is fine. See you tomorrow night.”

Leo hanged up the phone and lifted his fist in the air like in that one old movie he liked to watch so much. Peter never liked when Leo had those calls, they were from those slimy men and women that wanted something or someone. It never ended right, all the victims were unable to talk after they are injected with the venom one of the goons created long ago, longer than even Peter had been alive.

“Yes! Jackpot! Lanky, bring out the booze! Today we feast like kings!” Leo lifted Peter by the waist, his hands scorching hot against his shirt. It felt awful, but he would be punished if Peter did anything. “Oh, my boy, ya gonna make us rich! Richer than ever!”

“What do ya mean, boss?” Benny asked Leo, worry present in his voice as he shakily approached them to get Peter away from Leo.

“That was Red Hood, the Red Hood. Rich enough to rival even the big bat. And he had a request for us: a performance of the kid for his next dinner with a client.”

“You said I wouldn’t have to do private shows…”

“Yeah, those types of shows. Think of this one as singing in front of your family, but we get paid.”

Peter hated the idea. He wanted to pretend not to know what the sick bastards who asked for minors did, but he wasn’t stupid. Benny had that face, the one he did when he wanted to scream to someone.

“What if he hurts the kid? Or his client?”

“He’s paying us bank, Benny! Damn, this is a celebration! We don’t even gotta take ‘ny folks. Just put him on a suit and make him bend a little.”

“I don’t appreciate you talking about my boy like that.”

Leo slapped him with the back of his hand.

“And I don’t like your tone, mister. He ain’t yours, he’s mine. And I decide what we do.”

Peter took Leo’s hand in his to calm him down. He had experienced with it already, he knew how to move and what act put on. Seeing Benny hurt was a horrible sight, but if he were to attend to him and not Leo, it could all end worse. Not much was known about Red Hood, just that he worked on Gotham and was loaded. Peter knew he could take him, he was a fighter, or he used to be one. He was strong enough to cause irreparable damage and if Hood laid hands on him, Peter would not hesitate to act.

Peter could take a lot, but even he had limits.

No matter how much those limits were able to twist.

“Could Benny come with me, Mr. Leo? I promise he’ll behave.”

“Yeah. Yeah, y’know, I betcha the Hood can teach ya a better lesson than I.”

Peter stayed up late to go to Benny’s trailer with the first aid kid, they had a spray that could heal his bruise almost instantly. Peter used it often. Benny’s dark skin was colored with an array of purples and blues. He had a few wrinkles, when they first met his skin was smoother. Peter wondered if he’d be wrinkly too when he was older. He already had a few gray hairs, which is why Benny once called him an old soul, but he did it with that pained expression that he usually wore when Peter revealed something about him.

They didn’t talk, Peter didn’t want to think about the meeting with Red Hood. They just gave each other a look, a familiar gaze that meant I’m here for you. Peter wasn’t sure if Benny appreciated it, but he wouldn’t stop worrying about him anyways.

He felt the little hairs from the back of his neck move once he was outside Benny’s RV. And his senses screamed at him that someone was watching, not an evil or dangerous gaze, just an observer. Peter turned to where he sensed the presence, but there was no one there.

Ignore it and move on.

Sadly, there was another set of eyes on him. Those eyes that disgusted him.

“Pete, c’mere. Let’s talk.” Leo was drinking, he looked exhausted and dirty. His five o’clock shadow turned into messy peach fuzz. Peter got closer and sat down next to him. His disheveled look and sad demeanor let him know that Leo wasn’t a threat right now. Just a drunken guy. “I know ya scared but promised I won’t let them touch even one of ya hairs. Betcha he just heard ‘bout ya talent.”

“How much money did he promised you?” Leo’s gaze hardened and took another sip of his beer.

“Don’t worry yer head with numbers. They’re my business.”

“You’ll pay Benny, right?”

“Ha. Ya care about the ol’ man? That’s funny. Yeah, I’ll pay him. I’m a man of my word, after all. Y’know that, for the good and the bad.” He took another sip. “Want some?”

“I’m eleven.”

“I started when I was in my mama’s belly, so yer years late.” Peter decided to take a sip, it was disgusting, so he spit it out dramatically. Leo laughed at him. “Damn, kiddo. Didn’t think ya’d actually do it, that was gold.” Peter wanted to clean his mouth with soap, one of those honeysuckle soaps from fancy hotels. He never went to one, he just knew them from some of the old movies Leo let him watch. They’d always have fancy fuzzy robes, slippers, chocolate and weird soaps. “Whatcha thinking, boy?”

“About hotels.”

“You ain’t old enough to think about that stuff.”

“I was thinking about fancy hotels, and how I want to wash my mouth out with one of their soaps. Because the beer was yucky.”

Leo looked at him with enough care to trick a stranger. Peter was confused by the man. He wasn’t like Benny. Benny’s love felt warm and soft, his cheek kisses and hugs were enough to soothe Peter’s busy mind. With him, he felt safe. Leo’s love wasn’t like that, on the contrary, his love felt like a trap that would eventually kill him. However, his senses told him that it wasn’t any less real. That made Peter sick, because he didn’t want to be loved by Leo, or at least he shouldn’t want to.

Peter wanted love, but not like that.

“Go to bed, kid. Tis late for ya.”

“You too, g’night.”

“Night, kid.”

Red Hood didn’t want to set a foot in the Batcave, so he didn’t. He went to the library where he knew Babs would be waiting and willing to lend him her systems to connect with the Bats. They were waiting for him in their suits, except for Duke who had been out during the day, he was in comfortable clothes. Barbara was next to Jay, with a bowl of nuts and fruits to snack on. She hadn’t had breakfast yet, Jason offered to buy her something, but she rejected the offer and said: “next time, when you’re fully on our side.”

Red Hood didn’t want to answer that. He couldn’t. He was in too deep to change sides now, and if he was honest, he still didn’t agree with Batman’s No Kill policy. How could he agree when there were shits like Leonardo in this world? Shits like the Joker? Some people were better as worm food, at least that way their lives are worth something.

“He’ll bring the kid along with a chaperone tonight. Oracle has volunteered to be the client I’m meeting with. We’ll probably talk shit, nothing more. It’s actually kind of common to talk shit about—.” Batman raised an eyebrow; Jason shouldn’t talk any further. “Anyways, we’ll try to distract the chaperone if we consider him a threat. Our main objective is to know if we need to make an extraction now, or if we can wait for a bigger bust. Depending on how Spider-Man responds. Also, he might just be a kid, but if he was able to figure out B’s identity, it’s quite possible he’s very smart and wary of us.”

“So, they’ll be staying in Gotham for three days, that’s usually their limit.”

“Four.” Cass added, shy with her words but deadly with her glares.

“How do you know that?”

“Went there. They haven’t sent off their last victim. Must be waiting for their contact.”

“Did you see the kid? Do you know how he looks like?” Dick asked, but Cass denied it with her head.

“No. He sensed me, like a spy. But when he turned, I vanished. Couldn’t risk it.”

Cass was right. If the kid suspected they were watching him, he could’ve been in more danger. They knew very little about him, just that he seemed trained like an assassin and wanted help. They didn’t know if he could hold a secret, or if he was being constantly recorded and preyed on. They needed to be careful around these guys, because if they were able to get away with this for fifteen years, they weren’t idiots.

Tim was on his portable, researching something Jason couldn’t quite see. The distance between them and him was palpable, not only the physical distance. They were a family, Jason was a stranger waving through a window, looking at them with jealousy and longing.

Fuck, he wasn’t feeling great.

“We need a plan to rescue them as well, and we don’t have a lotta time. Oracle, Hood, if any of you can get more information about their victim, let us know as fast as possible.” Batman told them, Jason just scoffed at him. The older man didn’t hide the hurt from his face, and the knot in Jason’s stomach grew stronger.

“I have a list of possible victims; I’ll send it to the family group chat.”

“Group chat?”

It’s a strange thing how glass can always break a little more; how a breeze will bend trees, but wind will snap them and separate them from their roots. Moreover, it’s strange how words can ricochet inside your mind until your bleeding heart wants to bleed out.

“Jay.”

“Don’t worry, let’s continue with our conversation.”

“There’s a big possibility Spider-Man was either adopted or at least taken in by Leonardo. We want to do a background check on him, so other objective is to see his face. However, none of you should go snooping over there. They are armed, and it’s too risky to just attack their base. They could kill Spider-Man and the victim just to spite us. So, if none of you mind, I’d like you to wear body cams that would connect directly to the face recognition data base.”

Batman was never that kind with his words, he was bashed and bossy. Jason didn’t like to be treated like a stranger by him, it felt unjust. Dick put an arm around their dad without a purpose, just to be touching someone. He was like that. Dick liked hugs, and kisses and physical contact in general, because of course he did, he was better at that than Jason. Better at being good, golden.

Every second of the call was a dagger pushed further in his heart. Everything that happened since he came back from the death felt like a fuck you to his existence. His replacement, his abandonment, his father believing he’s a monster.

Could Jason ever do anything right?

The answer was yes. He could do wrong the right way; he could save people by being what destroys others.

Someone entered the library, which took everyone by surprised. Not a lot of people around Gotham used the library. Maybe one person or two, but it wasn’t a common occurrence. Nevertheless, Barbara was proud of the collection of books they had. So she ended the call, put on her jacket and met the clients outside of the small room they were in.

Not even a minute later, a message from her popped out in Jay’s phone:

Come outside, now.

Worried, Jason rushed out the door to the desk where Barbara was staring at a black-haired kid with an old black man. The kid was perusing the science section with great excitement, but Babs’ face looked like she just seen a ghost. Jason didn’t understand until the kid turned around: the cheeky childish smile, his eyes were a deep ocean blue, his jaw was sharp and strong.

That was his brother, Dick.

Except that it wasn’t. His skin was a tone darker and more yellow, his face was freckled and more importantly, that was a child.

Jason turned to look at Babs, confirm they were both seeing the same thing. Jason thought of taking a picture, but before he could take his phone out of his pocket, the kid turned to see him. It felt nostalgic to him.

The kid asked the older man if he could approach them, to which the man said yes. The kid’s voice was shyer than Dick’s was at that age, and more pitchy. Jason wondered what lab created him, and what his objective was. He didn’t feel threatening, but one could never be sure.

“Sorry, I wanted to know if I could use the computers…”

That snapped them out of their minds.

“Uh, yeah. You need a library card, want to sign up?” The kid looked like he had got caught, his facial expressions changed a little but enough for Jason to pick up on.

“Well, we ain’t from here. Just seeing the circus, y’know?”

“‘S okay, you can use mine, kiddo.” Jason offered his library card, forgetting he had a personalized Robin card. It was an old card; he had forgotten to change it and not the kid was looking at it like it was a hidden treasure.

“Thank you.” His smile was as warm as his brother’s. “Do you like heroes, too?”

“Some are cool, Wonder Woman is awesome. Ten times better than the old bat.”

“She is my favorite of the Big Three, too! She’s so cool!”

“You have more than one favorite?”

“Well… I couldn’t decide which one is cooler. So, depending on the team and the city it changes.” The kid was fun; his expressions were now much more relaxed and childish. Barbara was smiling too. They wanted to hear more. They wanted the kid to stay for a little longer because he reminded them of family.

“What’s your favorite in Gotham?”

“I like Robin because he’s only a year older than me, but I think Spoiler has the best costume. Also, I really like Signal because he’s out during the day and also, he’s a meta.”

The kid was so interesting, not a lot of people liked metahumans or decided their favorite hero because of costume and age range. Although, it wasn’t completely weird. The older man, with wrinkles on his and a hat on his bald head, got closer and told the kid to not bother the adults and that it was already late, so they had to get going. The kid looked terrified for a second, and the adult was too.

The kid returned the card to Jason and said goodbye with a shy voice. Jason wanted to run to him and ask him to stay, that they could protect him. But it wouldn’t amount to anything.

“Jason.”

“Yes?”

“How did the kid know Damian’s exact age?”

Oh, fuck.

Peter didn’t feel ready. Gotham was dark and cold at night; a city made for crime and misfortune. If he thought about it for a minute, Gotham was the perfect city for him, it was for criminals and lost souls that would never see the pearly gates of heaven. That was a good way to describe Peter.

Red Hood’s safe house was the penthouse in one of the tallest buildings he had ever seen. A butler, or a goon dressed as one, was waiting for them—Pete, Benny and Leo—and brought them to the last floor. The elevator took them directly to the living room of the place. It was brighter than Peter expected, and nothing seemed to be out of place.

Either he’s a neat freak, or this safe house is new.

Peter walked straight, never letting his guard down. This was a performance, after all. He was acting, and he was going to be damn good at it.

They walked into the kitchen where Red Hood, with his mask on, was chatting with a beautiful red-headed woman with a domino mask that didn’t have the white eyes, so Peter could see her green eyes clear as day. He recognizes her immediately, the woman from the library, they were even on the same wheelchair.

“Our entertainment is here, darling.” Red hood said as he took a sip of wine from his chalice. His smile not fading. Looking like a king, but a king may be a crook, Peter knew that from experience. Peter bowed at them, his senses weren’t alerting him of any danger, so he relaxed a little.

“Isn’t he adorable? So charming! Tell me love, how old are you? You look like a baby!” The woman from the library, now wearing a sequin green dress and a feather boa asked him. But as Spider-Man he wasn’t able to talk, so he let Leo take the reins of the situation.

“Spider-Man doesn’t reveal his age, but yes, he’s young. Don’t let that fool ya, milady, he’s a performer through and through.”

“Oh, we know how talented kids can be, don’t we, Bay?”

“Yes, we believe society should enrich and encourage kids, nurture their natural talents. We’re so glad you’re doing that, Mr. Avantico.”

“Beautiful lady like you, call me Leo. Well, boy. Don’t just stand there, show them what you’re about!”

Peter had a ring routine planned, it was mostly contortions. He chose the most painful looking since he thought it would send the correct message: don’t dare touch me. He heard Bay—if that was even her name—scream a little when his whole body was shaped like a pretzel. Red Hood spit his drink when Peter got closer to them with a smile and his head a little too to the right to be normal and lifted his chair with just one arm as he flexed the other.

Both of them clapped at his act and asked the circusmen to sit with them. Peter looked with hope at Leo, who gave him a thumbs up and then the kid started stuffing his face with the delicious meal in front of them, Benny was looking at the table like it was the answer to all his conundrums.

“Damn, your kid is hungry, Avantico.”

“Oh, P— Spidey! Manners, child!” Peter made a sorry expression and Benny smiled at him. “If I can bother ya, Mr. Hood, could ya tell me where your washroom is.”

“Uh, yeah. Alfred, could you guide our guest to the shit room?”

“Of course, master Red Hood. Follow me, sir.”

Avantico went along with Alfred the butler. The tension in the room suddenly raised, even Benny could feel it but Spider-Man shot him a glace to let him know that it was okay. Peter’s senses weren’t usually wrong, and they weren’t telling him that Red Hood and Bay were harmless, no, but they were soothing him and letting him know they were safe for him. With Leo, Peter’s senses were wary but not necessarily registered him as hostile. Of course, because he wasn’t going to kill Peter.

But with these two, they were different.

“I must admit I’m surprised there are two chaperones with Spider-Man. I don’t believe I got your name, sir.” Red Hood started talking as he refreshed his wine.

“You would’ve preferred the kid came alone, sir?”

“No, not at all. I’m glad Spider-Man has more company. Showbusiness is tough for kids.” He drank a little more or at least pretended to. “I thought the private show was a long shot, but considering Avantico’s business I shouldn’t’ve been surprised. Am I correct in assuming this is more up the alley of the other business he has, not the circus?”

“Yeah… but ya not allowed to touch the child. Not your lady friend. I am here to make sure of that.”

Benny’s statement seemed to throw both of them off the loop. The crime lord and the woman from the library changed their expressions fast and became serious for a second. Peter observed the woman’s brooch; it was a bat of diamonds. It was tacky and didn’t go with the dress at all. She wasn’t here as a friend of Red Hood; she was here as part of Batman’s team.

Peter wanted to ask her, but he was afraid of speaking up in the suit, so he just stared at her and pointed at the brooch, she gave him a nod. Now, Peter was sure. This wasn’t a private show, they were gathering intel. It was a rescue.

“Sir, have you gone to the—"

“Well, that was a fine bathroom, Mr. Hood. The whole place is like a maze!” Leo was back with Alfred, who was wiping his hands with an alcohol gel. “Wow, the air here surely is tensed. Did I miss something?”

“Oh, nothing. No. I was just wondering about Spider-Man, so strong but so little, he must be metahuman!”

“Oh yes, but don’t worry. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, he’s just strong. He ain’t Superman.”

The adults continued talking and eating, Peter was sure Bay had recognized them from the library, or at least she recognized Benny. The kid wanted to jump into their arms and tell them to save them, but if he did, Benny and him would have the circus on their backs at any given moment. There was also the possibility that, even if Bay was with Batman, Red Hood could not be. Peter decided not to risk it.

The evening ended up being quite nice, they let Peter play around the place and gave them a grand tour. Red Hood showed off his art collection, which Peter suspected it was fake since Hood notably didn’t know what he was talking about.

Before they went back to the circus, Red Hood got closer to Spider-Man and gave him a card, telling him to use it whenever he wanted. The yellow, green and red card felt like a weapon in his hands. The Robin library card.

The heroes knew about him.

Now, he had to wait. He was good at that. Maybe. Probably.

Chapter Text

Jason didn’t know what to make of the situation, or what to say to Bruce. How was he supposed to explain Spider-Man?

As soon as they walked in, his eyes went to the black man accompanying him. The same one from the library, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. He needed to inform them, but how? What was he supposed to say?

I think you have a son, Dickwing. I think you’re a dad, and he’s being held hostage by a pimp with no moral compass. I think you have a son, big brother, and he was with me two times and I couldn’t save him. I’m sorry, sorry, so sorry.

Was that what he needed to say? Were those the right words? If he spoke up, would the little sense of connection he had falter and crumble in his hands, slip away like sand through his fingers? This felt like life’s cruelest joke, and his heart wanted to give up and die again.

“Jay…”

“I’m an uncle, Barb.” Jason threw himself at the arms of her friend and sister. Her hands going up and down his spine in an attempt to calm him down, as he sobbed in her arms, grieving something he lost a while back and that now seemed to be under threat once again. “What do I do? How do I tell ?”

“We need to be sure. Not that I didn’t see what you did, but around here kids with blue eyes and black hair are a dime a dozen. And even if he’s Dick’s kid… Jay, the kid’s like eleven. Dick would’ve been sixteen if he had come the natural way, and let me tell you, he wasn’t getting laid at that age.”

“Oh god, ya’re not implying—”

“That he’s probably a clone. Which would explain a lot about him, why he’s a meta for example. If he was created in a lab using Dickie’s DNA.”

“He’ll be crushed, Babs. Knowing he has a kid out there, in the hands of that bastard.” Jason broke the table next to them; he wanted to jump out of the window and go look for his nephew. The kid must be so goddamn scared, and what was he doing? Hiding, freaking out, being fucking useless, a good for nothing monster.

“Jay! JASON!”

“WHAT?” He was seeing green.

“There’s a plan, remember? We’ll get him home, safe and sound.”

Babs was an intelligent woman; she knew how to read him as if he was still that fucked up kid that tried to steal Batman’s tires. She knew how angry Jason could get, but she didn’t judge him for it. She kindly took him into her arms and passed her hand through the back of his head. It could seem weird, but that spot could calm anyone down and she took advantage of that fact. Jason was glad he was there with Barbara; the penthouse was horrible and ostentatious; he felt like a stranger who was underdressed and underqualified to even breathe the air of the place.

They parted ways, even if Babs insisted to see him home, he refused the offer with the excuse he needed air, so he was just going to walk around. They agreed to tell Dick first thing next morning; it was better to let him know in advance.

To Jason, there was no doubt in his mind that the kid was Dick’s. They had the same color eyes.

In the translation of the Iliad, the sea is described as wine red. There were various reasons for that, it was symbolic of all the people Odysseus lost during his travels and how dangerous the sea could be, yet how beautiful it was to look at. The other reason was that there was no word for purple back there, so they had to come up with a term for it. A color so unique in your point of view that there isn’t a way to describe it with just one word in your language.

Dick’s eyes were the same, a blue so deep you couldn’t describe them with simply blue. Jason could point out that color in the middle of the ocean, which is why he was sure of his conclusion.

Jason took out a cigarette as he walked the streets of Gotham, he had taken off his mask because right now he didn’t feel like being Red Hood. Was that wrong? He didn’t think so, B would probably prefer it that way. If Jay could be kept away and hidden like a dirty secret, dead and buried. He probably preferred that to him being the Red Hood. Well, fuck off, Dad! He thought as he put his mask back on.

God, he was pathetic.

Dick was told by his brother to go to the safe house he knew about and wait for him there as he had something to tell him about. Wally went with him because Dick was getting an uneasy feeling about the whole thing. Jason wasn’t one to ask to meet up, and normally he would be elated that his brother asked him to spend even a fraction of a second with him, truly, but that wasn’t the case. His voice during the call was shaky and depressive, it lacked the confidence and arrogance that he normally carried himself with.

When they came in, Jason and Babs were sitting next to each other looking nervous. He went through every possible scenario in a span of seconds: The kid died, he’s actually evil, Jason was dying, Babs was dying, they were both dying.

Someone, tell him something before he goes mad!

Wally and he sat down in the same armchair, Dick in the seat and his boyfriend in the armrest. They liked being close to each other, it calmed them down. Dick put his hand on top of his boyfriend’s, just to feel closer.

“I have no idea where to start…”

“Guys, you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”

“The kid, Spider-Man. He looks like you, we think he might be your clone…”

Dick’s mouth went dry, as new scenarios started forming in his head. A hundred what if’s that had sad endings.

“How old was the kid?”

“Around eleven. If he had been conceived the natural way you would’ve been sixteen or seventeen, so we figured he was—”

Dick ran to the bathroom to puke, his stomach hurt so bad that he grabbed it because his guts were about to burst from him. His tears salted his lips as the memories of that night come back. Why now? Why a spider? Why did it come back now when he was finally moving on?

He probably looked like a mess; he needed his partner. He needed his safe space because he was the only thing that will always feel safe.

“Dick, what happened?”

“There’s something I have to tell you guys.”

When Dick was seventeen, he was abused by Catalina Flores, Tarantula, and he never told people. His body felt detached of his soul as he told the story, as the emotions of that moment came back like punches to the gut. He didn’t have anything in his stomach to throw up.

The child… Could he look at his face knowing he was conceived in such a horrible situation? Could Nightwing love him like he needed without suffering inside? Or worse, did he know? Was Spider-Man aware of his past?

Nightwing’s mind was bombarded by his own fears and insecurities, he was spiraling into despair and couldn’t find the way out. He was free falling into his darkest thoughts, no catching bar in sight and no strength to get up.

“Love…”

Wally was there, holding his hands like a guiding light in his darkness.

“There’s a chance, a possibility, yes. But, Dick, the kid is meta, if he was— if that was what happened, and how he came to be, it would mean the kid was experimented on.”

“He would’ve been experimented on even if he wasn’t the product of rape, Babs. That kid didn’t know a day of normalcy. And it was my—”

“No. Never, love. Don’t say it. Nothing about this is your fault, nothing that happened was because of something you did. I love you, Dickie. Please, don’t do that to yourself.”

Dick couldn’t pretend he wasn’t blaming himself for everything, but he could try not to. His messy brain wanted to self-destruct, but his family around him was enough to help him calm down. Spider-Man didn’t have that, he didn’t have brothers and sisters that could accompany him in his darkest moments, he didn’t have a father that would call him chump or lad or would buy him as much ice-cream as he asked. His kid was alone, but he wouldn’t be for long.

“Please, tell me everything you found out. We’ll catch up the rest later.”

After their meeting, Dick was drained out of energy. All his emotions caught up to him in the drive to the manor and he took a moment to cry it out. Wally stopped the car let his boyfriend sob until there weren’t tears left.

Wally wasn’t allowed in the Batcave for cases, that pissed him off. Batman’s rule of “No metas in Gotham” was bullshit. Wally was a good superhero, a great one really, the fastest being in existence, his fighting abilities and skill set were enough to put him in the top 10 most powerful heroes. Probably higher than the Bat himself, yet when he was in Gotham, Wally could only be Wally and not the Flash. Dick told him it’s not worth the hassle, but how could he stand on the sidelines when part of his family was suffering?

He didn’t care this time, his partner needed him there and he wouldn’t leave his side. Batman saw him enter without his suit and with his arms intertwined with his son’s and shot him a warning look. Wally didn’t say anything as a sign of respect, but he responded with an annoyed glance of his own.

Aside from that, the bat family looked concerned. Of course, they were, Dick was a mess. He didn’t have the energy to explain his side all over again, he could barely stand, his poker face that usually came with such ease now was nowhere to be seen. Dick was wounded and they knew that a hurt Dick didn’t stay depressed.

Dick was a man of action, they knew, whatever was hurting him wouldn’t be alive for so long. When his partner saw his family, his demeanor changed. He wasn’t the destroyed man he was a second ago, he was furious.

“Our priority is Spider-Man.”

“Yes, son. But what brought this on?”

“He could be my kid. Oracle and Hood are pretty sure about that.”

The cave fell in deadly silent. Wally noticed how Steph face morphed, and Duke tensed his whole body. Damian, the youngest Wayne kid, was very practiced in hiding his emotions, however it was obvious to him that he was just putting on a strong face in the midst of panic. The speedster was aware of the complicated relationship between the two brothers, Dick and Damian had a big age gap and to a kid that craved for father figures, Dick was perfect for the role. Even if he had Bruce, Damian looked up to his older brother in a way only a son would look up to his father.

Wally tried to speak to him with his eyes, but he was met with nothing but indifference.

“What do you mean?”

“He has my face, my smile, my eyes. They were thinking clone, but… it doesn’t matter how he came here, if he’s mine is my responsibility to keep him safe. I’m already eleven years too late.”

“They will most likely do the sendoff today, during the show.” Tim started explaining his plan, closer to the table where they kept all the information and maps. “We know where the kid will be, and he won’t get hurt during his act. We need to go first to the sendoff, they will have Avantico’s people and his client’s people, probably all armed. I think we can manage that part without you, Dick. You can stay and look out after the kid, make sure you can get him out of there.”

“Thanks, Tim.”

“Keep your comm on, anyways. We might need you.”

“Let me join in,” Wally demanded. “You’ll need all the help you can get. And the kid—”

“No.” Batman cut in, with his stern and stoic posture. Wally’s hands trembled with rage. “I appreciate you trying to help, you are a talented hero, kid. But you don’t know how we work as a team, if we added you in this mission it could backfire. We cannot risk it.”

“I’m fucking fast, B. I can handcuff every guy in less than it would take you to finish a sentence.”

“Having one plan isn’t enough around here, Wally. Do you know how to react with toxic gas? With a cryogenic weapon or room? What if they shoot you with a meta-gene suppressant? Have you considered that? Those are the realities we live in, we are used to it, you’re not.”

Wally couldn’t fight him. He was too mad. The only thing he could think of was that his boyfriend’s kid was in danger and he was getting benched. He wanted to storm off, close a door so hard it would unhinge, but that wouldn’t get him anywhere. He couldn’t act like a child when he was a full-grown adult.

“Could you at least, please, let me be with Oracle to see you guys for myself? I promise I won’t do anything. I just… I wanna know my family is okay.” Bruce softened himself and gave a light chuckle. They were both aware that Wally knew Bruce’s weak spot for family.

“Okay. If Oracle agrees, you may accompany her during this mission. You’re a bright man, Flash. And my son’s life partner, I appreciate you looking out for him.”

When the meeting was over, the boyfriends went upstairs to say chat with Alfred, who was making the family a big breakfast. He hugged both of them, as he realized they both in need of emotional assistance. He asked them to sit down because the food was almost ready, and the table was set.

“I don’t know if it’ll make you feel better, master Dick. But I’ve met the kid, and he had a big appetite, however he refused to eat a single green bean. And he had a lad, old and quite blunt, who cared for him. He’s not alone there, he may not have a lot, but he has known love.”

“Thank you, Alfie. That’s… that’s good to hear.”

Peter was practicing his routine for the night. He was feeling stronger after the meeting with Red Hood and Bay. Maybe it was because he finally ate more than a bread a day. He knew he was malnourished, even if Benny snuck him a few snacks here and there, he was growing, and his powers required a lot of nutrition that he didn’t receive. It was getting late, and he knew that meant they were about to give away their last victim.

So, he snuck out.

Peter was sneaky and quiet, he moved most naturally in a way no human could, with fast and tiny steps as he used all his limbs to climb and hide. He was one with corners and shadows, his stickiness allowed him to use ceilings and trees as means of hiding, his webs were able to distract people if he ever had to. He was trained, he knew that when the wind blew, he had to move in its direction, he knew how to jump high enough and fall in absolute silence.

He avoided thinking about his past, about the training. But he couldn’t forget what his body was made for. “My perfect boy, my spider, my weapon.” He had heard his mother say to him time and time again before they moved to the lab, once he was there his mother hadn’t spoke up much.

He got to where the new victim was being held, she was mute because of the venom, and she looked like she had one foot on the grave. Peter had visited her before, to tell her who they were and what they were doing with the hopes the venom wouldn’t work on her.

The girl had red short curly hair and long eyelashes, she had freckles all over her skin and she looked about seventeen years old. She never looked at Peter with kindness, and he hadn’t expected her to. She was scared of Peter, and he couldn’t blame her, he would be scared too.

“Here.” Peter handed her a knife had stolen from the kitchen. “They are going to give you away today, when you see your chance to escape, take it. Use the knife if you have to.” The girl was tied up, so Peter slowly hid the knife inside her jean pocket. The knife was small enough to fit without being too noticeable. “I know it’s not much, and that you are very scared, but others have escaped so I don’t see why you couldn’t.”

She looked at him with a puzzle expression, she tried to speak but no sound came of it. Peter still understood.

“I promised someone I would run away with them, so I can’t go. And I can’t help you without putting his life in danger, I’m sorry. This is all I can do.”

The redhead had a strong gaze, filled with determination. She was writing something, with her finger, on the floor.

“M-H? No, A. M-A-B-L-E. Mable. Is that your name?” The girl nodded. “Nice to meet you, Mable, I’m Peter.”

Peter left the place where Mable was. He was surprised she trusted him with her name because her eyes still had a burning hatred when she looked at him.

The night came faster than Peter expected, he now had to trust. It was the last opportunity the heroes had to save him and Benny, he hoped they came soon. Spider-Man arrived on the stage as the last act; there were thousands of people looking up at him. Leo always said that you have to leave the best for the end, which is why he was the star. Of course, it had nothing to do with the handover of Mable, or any other victim.

For tonight, Peter had prepared a choreography with much more tricks than the last one, instead of having lots of dancing. He first decided to crawl over the floor to make people gasp with shock, they couldn’t believe it when the silk came out of his wrists (he used a fake bracelet to make the web look fake) and carried him to the top of the trapeze platform. He started swinging with complete control over the air.

Even in his cage, this was the freest he felt. The audience was having amazing reactions, too. From the corner of his eye, he saw a tall man leave his seat in a hurry, that had happened before to him. Sometimes, a member of the audience got second-hand vertigo or fear by watching him. He hoped that man was okay.

Spider-Man was his kid, it was obvious. He looked majestic as he jumped from one place to another, he looked so much like him. What would he be like? What was his favorite music genre? What was his favorite food? Did he like studying? A part of him was excited to meet him.

Then he heard it from the comms:

“Red Hood’s been shot. Nightwing, we need you here.”

He had to leave his son, how could he?

He wouldn’t admit that it took him more than a second to react, because he considered for a moment to stay and admire the talent of his son.

The fight had gone awry because of something they didn’t expect. They were observing through the ceiling on the warehouse where they were doing the sendoff. The client was an old man, skinny and fragile, who came chaperoned by at least fifteen guys with guns on their belts. The victim was apparently tied up and blindfolded. The old guy touched her face as if he was inspecting a precious diamond. One of the men with guns took out a suitcase and showed the other side the money, it was a lot but not enough for a human life.

Then, the redheaded girl took out a knife and stabbed her captor. Everything devolved down from there. Bullets were flying around, and the Bats had to intervene, they tried to save as much people as possible, but bodies were piling up. The redhead teenager was on the ground unmoving, lifeless.

They were fighting as hard as they could, disarming goons with all their might. But there was one too many that escaped and shot Jason. He was wearing a bulletproof best, but it was old, and the bullet went through puncturing his stomach. He lost consciousness and Batman carried him away, putting him in a safe place and applying first-aid. Alfred was going to look after him.

The fight took longer than any of them expected. In the end, they managed to save and handcuff at least ten guys, most of them injured badly and in serious need of medical care. Oracle called for an ambulance and the police. Nightwing ran where the circus was, but the show had ended, there was no one nearby anymore but the tent was on fire.

He went it, even surrounded by the flames that were slowly erasing any traces of their existence. He had lost his son again.

“SPIDER-MAN!” He yelled for him. “SPIDER-MAN! KID! Where are you?” The place started to crumble around him, and Batman took him out of there before it was too late. Nightwing tried to go back as he cried, when the tent was down, he knew he had completely lost. He hugged his dad. “He’s gone, dad… I was supposed to save him…”

“We’ll find him, kid. We won’t stop until he comes home.”

The night had ended abruptly. Leo’s phone rang in the middle of his presentation; he came back a few seconds later with a lighter and a blank expression. He knew what would happen if he stopped. The flames engulfed the tent, but Peter kept performing, he continued until there was no one else around. He was waiting, after all, for any hero to show up. But no one came, only Benny who grabbed him and run. Peter didn’t cry, maybe the heroes were busy, maybe Peter wasn’t deserving of being saved.

He at least had Benny.

Peter was catatonic, his mind was trying to form a reaction, but it couldn’t get it past his internal barriers. His face remained unmoving as the realization set that he wouldn’t be free for a long time. They at least weren’t able to get anyone knew, they couldn’t kidnap any more people. Peter had done at least one thing right.

And he was going to pay the price.

Leo smelled like danger and fumes. His hands were dirtied with blood and ash. His rings clashed with Peter’s cheekbones as he received his beatdown. He was kicked, punched, spat on. His body frail because of fear and hunger couldn’t defend itself from the hurt. At some level, he believed he deserved it. He knew Leo probably lost the sell, the client and the victim. Peter was aware of the possibility that the girl didn’t survive, but he hoped she was okay.

Just a little bit of hope, that’s all he asked for.

“Ya FUCKING KID! YA RUINED US!”

Peter just stayed there. Why would he fight? It could be worse if he did. Why did his body had to hurt so much? He wished he would lose his mind already, that way he wouldn’t have to endure any of it anymore. Leo’s eyes were scarring him, his pupils were smaller than before, and his suit was ruined. He looked like when he was drunk.

But he wasn’t loving like he was then; Peter didn’t know which side of him he preferred.

“No! Stop!” Benny got in between them, with tears running down his face. “Please, the boy’s innocent.”

“We both know he ain’t! He sabotaged us! He got many of us killed, Benny! He has to pay.” Benny looked serious and stern, he shot a look at Leo, who raised his eyebrows and took out his gun.

“No. Nononono. Please, Benny, no. Let him get me…”

“Kid, promise me… If you ever get the opportunity to do good, do good, kid. For me.”

Then the gun went off, and Benny’s body weighed Peter down. He looked pale and his temperature was slowly going down. Peter could feel how the life was being drained out of him, he saw how the light left his eyes. The kid's face was covered with his blood, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore without Benny. He had paid the price for the spider… now someone had to paid for killing him.

Peter blacked out, that’s the story he would go with if someone asked. He blacked out, couldn’t remember a thing about that night. The flames and the death of his friend traumatized him, so he couldn’t tell what happened. He didn’t know why Leo’s body was full of teeth marks and venom running in his veins. Peter couldn’t possibly remember why the rest of the Spiders’ Den disappeared after that night.

Peter couldn’t even remember how to go back, if he knew how, he would. However, he was alone now, and he would be for the rest of his life. No heroes came to save them, nobody showed up. Who was going to take responsability for his misery? It was too hard on him.

He wanted to cry, but there weren't tears in his eyes. 

"I'm so sorry, Benny. Please come back, please. For me."

Please, please, please...

Chapter Text

Jason was a piece of shit.

Jason was a piece of shit that got himself shot because he didn’t notice his bulletproof vest was not so bulletproof and made Dick abandon his son, Jason’s nephew. God, he hated himself. He hated more how his brother didn’t blame him, how his sisters were next to him in the infirmary room. They were next to him, and all he could think about was kicking them out so he could be alone like he was destined to be.

Cass hugged him as soon as he woke up while Steph went to call the rest of the family. Jason made a mental note that Bruce wasn’t there, which stung a little.

“Hey, Cass. Don’t cry like that, I’m fine. Not the first time I’ve been shot, won’t be the last.” His sister punched him softly, but he still flinched. His body was weak at the moment, but he was able to chuckle at her funny reactions. “Wow, punch me while I’m down, Batgirl.”

“Never again. I don’t want to lose any more family.”

“Have you guys found anything about Spider-Man?”

“No, that guy is worse than Damian. A fucking shadow.” Steph stepped in and also gave Jason a long hug. She had made a small braid in his hair while he “slept”. “Dick and Wally are both looking for him in their civilian forms. B still won’t let Walls be the Flash around here. So, they are doing what they can.”

“The kid’s trained and son of Dick, of course he wouldn’t be easy to catch.”

“Son of Dick sounds like an insult, to be honest.”

Cass and he giggled at Steph’s blunt comment. Even if it hurt Jason’s bullet wound, he couldn’t help but to lower his guard around them. Jason was fine having brothers, he loved them—even if he would never tell them—but having sisters was one of the best things in his life. He never felt judge for crying around them, they were always kind to him in ways his brothers weren’t. They were both very different from the rest of the batfamily.

He didn’t feel awkward being affectionate towards them, maybe it was because they were girls? Or maybe it was just their personality. Whichever reason, his three sisters were necessary parts of his family. He didn’t deserve it, but they wouldn’t leave him.

“Tim has been checking the city security cameras, but we were only able to find a drug dealer replacing his stash with baby formula. Honestly, that was depressing to watch.”

Cass wasn’t speaking, she was more comfortable staying quiet and nodding her head. The batgirls were attached at the hip, they were each other’s partners and depended on each other for a lot of things, like speaking the other’s mind. Steph knew what her partner was thinking, and she shared it for her if Cass didn’t feel like talking.

Jason noticed the pattern of Cass’ non-verbalism. If she felt helpless, or the someone in the family was lost or in mortal danger, Cass would stop talking and rely on her family. Jay thought he could learn from her, but as previously stablished: he was a piece of shit.

“LoA, maybe?”

“Damian is currently talking to his mother.”

“Aish!”

“Yeah… but he offered. Something about brotherhood, he said. You know how he gets when it comes to Dick, the boy worships his big bro.”

“Don’t let him hear you, he’ll cut your throat.”

Steph threw her head back with a laugh. Cass opened her phone and showed it to Jason, who read it in a whisper. That was a little trait he picked up after so many nights reading horror novels in complete silence, he started reading them with a whisper so he wouldn’t get as grossed out.  

“LoA wasn’t involved. If Spider-Man is a meta, he might’ve been taken by an organization like Checkmate when he was younger. And then Tim adds Spider-Man was with the circus for two years, when they changed their name, before that they were known as Cirque de Luna. There is no record of a kid with his description in any government agency or known illegal lab, so most probably it was an at-home experiment.”

“God, what kind of life did that kid live?” Cass and Jason looked at each other, both of them sharing a connection that most didn’t have, the link between assassins, between survivors of the tragedies that happened inside the walls of a training association. Cass was born to be Orphan, as her father’s daughter. Jason was groomed into it after his death. Cass got out, Jason didn’t feel completely free of its chains.

“We can help.” Cass told them, as she squeezed their hands.

Steph gave another hug to her siblings, they needed it.

Peter was hungry, starving really. These days, Peter couldn’t help but remember his time with his mother, before the machines and the poking needles, when he had to hunt for his food as they ran from place to place like nomads. He wasn’t glad that was his life, but he had to be grateful he knew how to use his webs to hunt city rats and insects. Benny used to say that it was disgusting, that when they ran away, he would make his mama’s famous sweet potato and honey fries with orange chicken. It sounded delicious to Peter; he only had chicken twice in his life: once with Leo, it was boiled and had a weird leaf that tasted like hand soap, and then with Red Hood, which was pretty good although a little hard to swallow because it was so soft it got stuck in between his fangs.

He was made for rawer meats, which should’ve made him a carnivore, but he couldn’t resist the sweet smell from bakeries and coffee shops. He once had debated himself if he should’ve swiped quickly something from one of those places, but he promised Benny he wouldn’t.

Do good, kid. For me.

God, he missed him.

Benny was one of those religious people, Peter wasn’t. He believed in magic and the divine, but Christianity wasn’t a fit for him. During the two months he has been on the street, he had been kicked out from two of those churches. Although, he found a synagogue that didn’t, even if people there looked down on him with hate or pity, the rabbi there was adamant about the importance of giving.

“People aren’t kind, boy. Not here. We’re all a little wary.”

“You’re not, Kinnard.”

“God, don’t call me by my first name. Be respectful, kid.”

“Your last name is Scha, schu. Sorry, sir. I’ve forgot it.”

“Reinschmidt, and you shouldn’t say stuff like that, it can annoy some people. Not politically correct.” He told Peter as he gave him part of his sandwich. It was a tuna sandwich with tomato, which tasted weird, but he didn’t care.

“I’ve heard you swear like a sailor yesterday, rabbi Reinschmidt. You’re not the epitome of respectfulness.” The rabbi laughed at him.

“Now where did you learn those words?”

“Around. Why aren’t you wary of me? I could be dangerous, y’know?”

“You and the majority of Gotham, kid. The Torah said to help the poor, the widowed and the orphaned. You are two for three there.” Rabbi Reinschmidt was lighting the candles for that night. “Why haven’t you gone to the Martha Wayne Foundation shelter? It’s good, really. Brucie Wayne keeps the place clean.”

“I can’t go there.” He didn’t trust the Wayne’s. Not after they never came, after leaving him to burn and Benny died. “I don’t like the Wayne family, or people with tons of cash. Don’t your book say something about rich folk.”

“If they acquire wealth by unethical means, sure. That’s not them. But hey, can’t tell you who to hate, you’ll have your reasons.”

Peter visited the synagogue a few more times after that, he wasn’t very fond of the place because it was too intimidating to him. He wasn’t unwelcomed, but he felt like an intruder since he never prayed and only went there for a free meal, but the rabbi was nice enough to him, he would give him half a sandwich each time he visited. Once, he even had fruit juice.

“I won’t be coming back, Kinn—I mean, rabbi Reinschmidt. I kinda feel like a leech around here.”

“So sorry to hear that, but I get it. People don’t look at you with the kindest eyes.”

“At least they don’t kick me out or spat on me. I’d call that a win, but yeah… I feel bad mooching off your kindness, I think is what you said, people are wary of me and everything new around here.”

The rabbi sat next to him. Unlike Benny, Kinnard was a colder person, he didn’t offer loving words or hugs. He kept his distance, which wasn’t something bad. Peter found it reassuring.

“If you’re trying to get more food or money out of me, it ain’t working.”

“Don’t be a douchebag. I’m not against it, but I’m just saying goodbye.”

“Don’t call me douchebag, moron. And don’t say goodbye, I never liked them. The first time my dad said goodbye, he left me and my family. So, just a see you later is fine.”

“I don’t know if I will, the streets are cold, and I’m not exactly built for that. I’m like skin and bones. Don’t give me that look, I’m being realistic here. But really, I have pride. I used to work too. It was horrible, but it gave me a roof and food.”

“You’re like nine.”

“I’m eleven, dude!”

“Look, I have a friend that can help you. They are a little secretive, but they can get you a few bucks for food and if you help ‘em out. They’re nice, although not much of a talker but if you’re kind and polite, they will be too.”

“Great, when can I meet them?”

“Go to Robinson Park tomorrow night, don’t get kidnap.” The rabbi handed him a few menorah candles, a pen and paper. “Here you go, a little goodbye gift.”

“What’s this for? Do I have to do a ritual to meet this guy? Like that Charlie-Charlie shit. I had a co-worker that used to talk to spirits.”

“No, kid. That’s for the person you lost. A little shrine, sometimes it helps. Makes you feel close to them again. And pa-pa-pa, let me stop you right there, no need to thank me. I can already see the how-can-I-repay-this in your eyes. Don’t. Taking from the homeless makes me feel squeezy.”

“Cool, then… I’ll take it? Yeah that.”

“Now, fuck off. You look like you’re two seconds away from crying.”

“Screw you, Kinnard.”

Peter laughed. He didn’t remember he could do that.

“So, you think you can look after him?”

“You’ve gotten soft with your old age, rabbi. But sure, although if the plants don’t like him, neither will I.”

“Thanks Pam.”

Pamela Isley was an ex-villain and eco-terrorist that had come to an agreement with the city: she wouldn’t terrorize as long as they let her take care of the gardens without being bothered. She didn’t want any more people prodding around her place and making her feel bad for who she was. She didn’t choose to be Poison Ivy, but now she was here, and she was her; so, anybody can beat it.

However, some people were good to her. Harls, her wife, was the first person who guided her towards balancing Pam and Ivy. She never gave up on her, she made her feel confident and loved, not watched and groped. The rabbi was the one to marry them, he was very closed off but didn’t reject them. He believed in second chances, and he was glad to be part of theirs.

Pamela knew better than to repay him. The man would’ve thrown away whatever she gave him if it was because of that, so she just said thank you. Harley and she were now “reformed”, technically. They were still street cats with bad rep and even worse personality, but they were together. Even the Bats respected them.

So, color her surprised when she heard of a little kid that didn’t trust the Bats enough but was completely fine with a total stranger that sounded sketchy. What kind of life did that kid live? What happened to him to not trust the hero of Gotham?

It was nighttime, and she saw a kid with jet-black hair and eyes so blue; it was like opening your eyes in the middle of a sea storm. For a second, Ivy thought that was the last piece of the puzzle, but then she realized that it only felt like it. The puzzle pieces were all there, but she couldn’t see the picture.

The kid had Nightwing’s face.

She was looking at the kid from the roof of her greenhouse when he turned to face her, as if she had made a strong noise. But she had been quiet. His eyes brought her memories, of all the scared children she met, of all the people in Arkham that had seen too much. People think villains’ eyes are only filled with hatred, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Their eyes were fill with regret and anger.

“Hey there,” the kid greeted. He even sounded like Nightwing. “Are you the criminal I’m supposed to meet?”

“Not a— well, sometimes still a criminal. But my plants do the dirty work now. Have a name, little man?”

“I do. And you?”

“I do, too. Y’know, kid, you shouldn’t just go with strangers that are known criminals. I don’t know if you’re brave or just dumb.”

“I’m desperate. And believe me, I can tell when they are gonna hurt me. At least, now I can.” The child gave her a strong gaze, one that dared her to question him.

“I’m Ivy. If you can water and tend to my plants, you get the job.”

“Just that? I thought I had to, like, do something sketchy.”

“Would you have done it if I asked?”

The kid looked puzzled, then answered:

“Prolly not. I promised my friend I would try and do good. That was like his last wish, it’d be crappy of me to not honor it.” Ivy got down of the roof and shook the kid’s hand. She wondered if he was looking for pity, but for better or for worse, the child that had Dick’s face, voice and posture probably also had his pride. “Call me Parker.”

“That’s your name?”

“It could be.”

Ivy liked the kid. He was witty, she could work with that.

Closer to him, she took a good look to his state of being. He was dirty, probably hadn’t taken a shower in as many months, hi bones were almost sticking out of his skin, his eyes were sunken in from poor hydration and his leg was twisted, probably from a badly healed fracture.

It looked painful, but he walked like there was no problem. Ivy thought it was best to leave it at that.

They went in, and both of them were surprised. The plants were unusually welcoming to the young stranger. They rejoiced in his presence, like he was good dirt or an insect. They were showing off, extending their leaves and waving them, parading themselves.

Ivy laughed at them.

“They like you.”

“Wait, do they actually say words to you?” The redheaded woman smiled at the childish excitement.

“Sometimes.”

“What are they saying?” Ivy took a good listen to her plants. The nocturnal moths were hiding, but the carnivore plants were almost stepping out of the dirt and throwing themselves at Parker. They’re making Ivy look weak!

“They feel safe around you.” The plants surrounded Parker, as if they were trying to protect him, not the other way around.

Peter had fangs, how didn’t she notice before?

“Of course they do, plants love spiders.”

The kid was a clone of Nightwing, didn’t trust the bats, and he was a meta. The kid wasn’t a puzzle anymore; he was a mess.

“When can you start?”

The life in the Grayson-West residence had been rough these last few months. They were searching for Spider-Man every day, they weren’t kissing, hugging. They were breathing the same air like strangers, it pained Wally and Dick to be so close yet so far away. They deeply loved each other, but they didn’t have the strength to see their feelings through, they missed each other so bad.

After their third fight of the week, Wally went to take a walk. He was sick and tired of fighting, arguing, getting on each other’s nerves.

Which is why he tried cooling his head by walking the cold and dark streets of Gotham. He wasn’t from there, and he was starting to miss his home in Blüdhaven. He felt far away from anyone he considered family, even Dick.

During his walk he stopped three muggings, one kidnapping attempt, two murder attempts and gave a blanket to a homeless kid. He was about to continue walking, when he did a double take. The hypothermic kid was following him, trying to give him back the blanket, he had just bought it from a store nearby, it wasn’t dirty or ugly even. He turned back about to convince him to take it, when he stopped in his tracks.

He found him.

“Sir, here. I don’t need it.” It was his voice, but younger and shyer. He was such a little kid.

His eyes were there but covered with freckles. He was so tiny, in need of rest and love. Wally wanted to cry at the sight of him, even a light breeze could blow him away. His hair was curlier than Dick’s, and it was dirty, it didn’t shine like his. But there was no mistaking him, that was Spider-Man.

“Kinda looks like you do, kid.” He needed to tread carefully; the child was skittish and jumpy. Luckily, if he ran, Wally could catch up to him no problem.

“I don’t like pity.” Like father like son. “You’re crying, sir.”

“Sorry, it’s just… you look like someone I know. Him and I got into a fight.”

“Shit,” he might be Dick’s son, but his potty mouth is all Jason’s. “Looks like you need to talk. I can help, I’m good at listening.”

“Aren’t ya a little hero?”

“No… I don’t abandon people who ask for my help.”

That’s when Wally realized why they couldn’t find him. Spider-Man was hiding from them. He had been waiting for someone to rescue him, but they didn’t. He lost everything in one night; he had been living on the street since then.

They failed him. How could he not hate them?

Wally could’ve broken the rules for that kid.

“I get that I look like him, but how much did he hurt you?”

“What?”

“Your eyes are puffy, was the fight that bad?”

They started walking together, talking about Wally’s fight with Dick, without giving names away. He was aware the kid knew the bats’ identities, but not his. Flash’s secret identities weren’t public, and he wasn’t famous enough for someone to linked them together. Wally noticed how Spider-Man avoided the route where the bat-family should’ve been patrolling. He had thought about everything, he was a professional at hiding and surviving. Spider-Man looked around with a speed only Wally could perceive.

They made it to Robinson Park, where Spider-Man told him he worked for Ivy. Wally was quite shocked to hear that. Poison Ivy wasn’t their enemy anymore, she was actually more of an ally currently, so it was surprising that she didn’t mention meeting the kid who was almost an identical copy to certain vigilante. Of course, he could understand why she kept her mouth shut, after all, Bruce’s reaction could’ve been anything. God knew what went through that man’s mind.

“Wanna come in? I doubt the plants will hate you. You seem kinda cool.”

“Really?” Wally was very happy to hear that. His boyfriend’s kid liked him.

“Yeah, and they tend to like metas.”

“Huh?”

“I can hear your heartbeat; it sounds like a bumblebee. It’s actually kinda cute. I bet your boyfriend likes to hear it.”

“How do you figure?”

“Oh, it’s super interesting really!” Spider-Man perked up like a puppy. “So, there’s certain vibration that makes the human brain relax because the stimuli encourage the release of happy hormones, like serotonin. So, when you were talking about him, your heart actually sped up to that frequency, which could mean that it does the same when you’re near him.”

The kid spent the rest of the walk through the park telling Wally everything he knew about the brain, the stars, and the plants around them. As they walked, Spider-Man started changing the soil of some of the plants, because he had to work.

A bug was eating one of the plants’ leaves, and Spider-Man just ate it while his stomach growled. Red-faced, he turned to Wally, like he just committed the most heinous crime known to man and had got caught.

“So, you’re very… spidery.”

Peter seemed to process each word Wally said very slowly, trying to find the trap.

“You know who I was?”

“I went to one of your shows. Nice to know your tricks weren’t SFX. Is that how you were able to be so flexible? Because you’re like… an actual spider?” The kid was trying to look for more intentions behind his words. Luckily, Wally’s questions were genuine. He wasn’t a bat; he wasn’t a detective. His day job was mechanic, he fixed things. And he had to fix the mistake he made.

“Kind of… when I was younger, I did something similar to acrobatics. When the circus found me, they saw what I was capable of, and they made me their main act because I was promised protection if I made them money. They weren’t good, but I was stupid and stayed when I shouldn’t.”

“And now you’re hiding from them?” Spider-Man got scared at that, his whole body recoiled, and it looked like he wanted to run away. But he didn’t, and Wally took that as a win.

“No, they can’t look for me. I’m avoiding someone else.”

You were avoiding your family, Wally wanted to say. But he stayed quiet.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“I go by Parker, and you?”

“I’m Wally. It’s nice to meet you.”

Wally forced him to take the blanket; it was a compromise. He wanted to take him home.

Dick was alone in one of Jason’s safe houses. He hadn’t been in Blüdhaven for a while, and he felt lonelier than he ever had. He had fought with Wally about a stupid movie; he had said that he was tired and didn’t want to talk anymore.

It was a lie; he wanted Wally there. He needed his hugs. He missed him.

He hugged himself in the armchair where they usually sit together. Someone opened the door, and before Dick could react, he felt his lips being taken over by a strong with and a current of electricity. The kiss was deep and passionate, it was furious, as if they were trying to make up for all the time they spent apart. Dick pulled his boyfriend closer, he thought maybe they would fuse, be one again.

When they broke apart, Dick wanted to go again, but Wally stopped him.

“Wait, wait.” He said out of breath. “I found him… finally.” His boyfriend broke down in front of him. “I found our kid!”

Dick froze for what felt half an eternity, the words hit him like bullets. His heart that had been racing fast until one second ago suddenly stopped. His whole body crumbled into his boyfriend’s. They were both crying.

“God, I—how?”

Wally told him everything, where he had been and why they weren’t able to find him. He told Dick his son went by Parker, but that wasn’t his real name. He said his kid sounded just like him, and his eyes were covered in freckles. Parker’s favorite color currently was green, because of his job and green meant he was doing a good show. His kid was smart, and his powers were crazy, he could hear and see almost everything around him. He told him about how he was living on the street, but he refused to sleep in a shelter because someone might find him but accepted a blanket from Wally.

His kid looked frail, about to break, but he kept a smile on his face.

His kid was sassy, liked to talk back. He was very brave, he got close to hundreds of dangerous plants, dangerous Ivy plants and was cool as a cucumber.

He also told Dick his kid didn’t like cucumbers, because they tasted like water but didn’t have the texture of it, which kind of freaked him out.

Dick cried at every new piece of information, remembering how his dad used to say the same thing about cucumbers; how his mother loved space and said once that if she hadn’t fallen in love with acrobatics, she would’ve liked to be an astronomer. He couldn’t wait to meet Parker.

But he had to. He was a horrible dad; he left him there. He knew it was irrational of him to believe he could’ve been in two places at the same time, but what was he supposed to think? He let him be consumed by flames and anger and danger and, and, and…

Fuck. What else happened to him?

Dick felt himself being destroyed, he was being disassembled part by part, muscle by muscle. He was okay with the pain; he had let his kid deal with worse. No one saved him, he had to do it himself. Was there a world where he was forgiven for all his mistakes? Or even better, a world where Parker had never suffered and the three of them were a happy normal family?

“What are you thinking, love?”

“I want our kid here, with us. We would love him. I feel like I already do.”

“We’ll bring him home, I’m pretty sure he’s a day away from figuring me out. Plus, he already knows where I live currently.”

“You gave him this address?” Jason had left them that house until they could get Parker home, he told them not worry. He was a good brother who felt incredibly guilty. Dick almost blamed him, but he was more disappointed in himself.

“Yeah, if he ever needs help. I’ll be here. We’ll be here.”

“Do you really think he will take you up on that?”

“Let’s hope he’s not as hardheaded as his father.”

Wally kissed him again.

Dick kissed him back.

“You’re amazing, my love.” Dick told his boyfriend. “You’re my hope, every time. You always know how to pull me out of my dark places, you know how to put a smile on my face again,” he passed a hand through Wally’s red hair. “I’m so happy, so lucky, that I get to wake up next to you every day. And I beg you, please, never leave me, because I know I will never stop loving you.”

Wally threw himself on top of Dick, as if he was the air he had to breathe, the skin he needed to touch.

“I love you, Dick Grayson.”

“Let’s never fight again, Wally West.”

“I don’t know, there’s a place where I kinda want to fight you.”

Wally grabbed his hand and guided him to the bedroom. He giggled all the way there. He hadn’t laugh in months.

Bruce first walked into Dick’s childhood room; it was exactly the same as it was when he moved away. Walls full of pictures and posters of old bands and his favorite artists from when he was a teen. The photos were of all the family members and his friends: he had hundreds of pictures of Kori and Wally. Photos with Wonder Girl, Raven, Speedy… Photos with Jason, Tim and Bruce. Some with Babs, Steph and Cass, even some with Damian and Alfred.

He saw every piece of Dick’s soul there.

The next room was Jason’s, his heart still ached thinking about him. He had accepted the fact that his second child will always bring him to tears, he even welcomed them whenever he visited the room. It still smelled like Jason, like his body spray that was disgusting, but he refused to stop using. To his shampoo, coco and aloe vera. He had posters of motorcycles and movies up, and a giant library filled with classics. There, there was his worn-out copy of Pride and Prejudice. When he was younger, he would quote random books all the time, just to prove how smart he was to Dick.

Bruce chuckled at the memory. His boy was always a rebel.

Tim didn’t let Bruce into his room most of the time, but he looked like he needed it. So, he told him to go ahead and take a look around. His room was the weirdest, papers everywhere with his newest ideas and theories, random alien photos attached with strings. Tim’s personality was impossible to hide, and Bruce loved that about him.

Steph’s room was her sanctuary. She cried the day Bruce gave her the key to it, she was the first girl to completely move in, so he thought she would need extra privacy, which is why she got the biggest room. She was also a puppy-eyes expert, Steph knew exactly where to hit Bruce so he would give her everything she wanted, but she never asked for much. Just random foods and maybe clothes, never anything complicated or costly. She was also the best with her money.

Her room had music playing 24/7, and it smelled like a new flower every week. She said she needed to take her place as the girly girl of the family. Bruce remembered thinking he would be the worst girl dad in the world, he wasn’t a good dad to begin with, but Stephanie always reminded him how much effort he put to make her feel welcomed.

Cass’s was… dark. She was scared to put anything up or decorated in any way, until her siblings intervened and took her to a shopping trip. They made her sit inside the cart and grab anything she liked. She picked a record player, a teddy bear and a photo frame decorated with purple pompoms. She was so happy that day, Bruce asked for a picture so they could remember it. That photo was now in her room, next to several others. She had books and Steph helped her to paint a wall. “It’s an accented wall,” she called it. “You see how it brightens up the room, Cassie?”

Bruce went up to his daughter and gave her a kiss on the forehead. She gave him a hug.

Duke’s room was the most teen one. He had university paraphernalia, a football and an impressive collection of CDs. Most of them used to be Bruce’s, until Duke took them without even asking because he thought it would’ve been a funny joke. Bruce did laugh, more of obligation than anything, but told him to keep them, that he would like them. It was an excuse, Bruce had wanted to give Duke something, but he always refused.

That time, he probably realized he was there to stay. That night, they ate his favorite meal because Bruce thought it important.

Damian said he would never decorate his room. He lied, of course. Bruce found it decorated to the brim the next week. His siblings had helped him build each piece of furniture, even the canopy bed. He then said he would never have photos there, that if he needed important memories, he would store them in his head. That was another lie, Bruce saw Damian sneak up a photo of his pets sleeping together. Then, by total accident, Bruce had left a picture of Damian’s tenth birthday there. He was blowing out the candles alongside Dick, and Tim’s hair had caught on fire.

Bruce sat on his couch, waiting for the rest of his kids to come home. Alfred was next to him. Each day, he feared they wouldn’t come back; each day, he dreaded the day they would all leave the manor.

“Hey, B. Hey, Alfie!” Duke came barging in from school, with Damian by his side.

“Good day, father. Alfred.”

Dick and Wally agreed to come to dinner, apparently, they had news to share. They were happy news, and Bruce couldn’t wait to hear them. He loved to see the pure joy on his kids’ faces.

To his surprise, Jason and Babs had also joined. Jay looked uncomfortable to be there, but Bruce was elated.

They all sat down at the table, and Bruce wanted to start crying again. God, his old age had made him a crybaby, he wasn’t one for tears, but he was with his family. Almost all of it.

He dreaded the day they would all leave, but he knew, he would always have their rooms prepared for them for when they came back.

Chapter Text

Working for Ivy was great. She was a great boss, not that he had anything good to compare her with, but she never hit him, gave him delicious warm meals and wasn’t killing off his friends and setting places on fire. Peter had to give credit where credit was due. Taking care of semi-sentient plants was an experience Peter never thought would bring him such joy. They were smart and kind to him, sometimes they grew fruit when his stomach was growling, or they would reward him with a new insect when he did a good job.

The plants were as much his boss as Ivy was. Which was weird, but they were better than Leo.

What he didn’t like was the rude people that would come in and try to smoke inside. There was a huge sign on the door, with a drawing and everything, that told passersby to not light a match or a cigar inside the greenhouse. Some people respected that, others didn’t. Which is when being part spider came in handy. During his time with the circus, Peter had learned that people were scared of two things: spiders and ghosts. The light show they used to put up always received terrified screams from the audience, they made the ghosts as realistic as they could. Peter would sometimes help and creep up people from behind—they peed their pants a couple times.

When someone started smoking, like the guy who just walked in with a girl his age, probably his partner, Peter and the plants had a plan. They had to; most people laughed at him when he asked them to put out their vice.

So, this is what he did. First, they hid him from the targets, so he could climb the walls without being noticed. Then he covered their path with spiderwebs, thick enough to annoy them.

“Ugh, what kind of spiders do they have here?”

“Mon beau, it’s nature… this is their natural habitat.” The girl was nicer, so Peter debated not scaring her, until she gave a puff to the cigarette. Peter had heard French accents before; she wasn’t French but was pretending to be.

Second, he crawled silently behind them. No one ever noticed him, he knew how to quiet. That’s when he threw a web at the back of their necks, but when they turned, Peter had already slid underneath them and reached the other side.

Third and last, the plants would block the light so that only his sharp and pearly whites were seen. His senses told Peter exactly what he wanted to hear: Scared… He smiled and twisted his head as he got closer to them, little by little. Step. By. Step.

They ran away, exiting from where they came from. Another job well done.

“Well, that was entertaining to watch.” Wally said as he entered the greenhouse, Peter rushed to greet him. The last few days, they’ve become pretty close. Wally always came to visit him and spend time with him. Because Wally was a mechanic, Peter asked him many questions about his work and the things he repaired, how cars worked. The arachnid kid loved learning new things, and his friend was very smart.

Of course, he also asked him about his powers. Wally didn’t talk about them much, just told him that his body can vibrate. Peter knew he wasn’t telling the full story, his senses were screaming lies, lies around his brain, but he couldn’t completely blame him; after all, Peter hadn’t been totally transparent either.

“Wally!” Even if he didn’t know everything about the redhead, Peter felt safe near him. Wally had the same look Benny had, loving and protecting. A part of him told him that Wally was only around because Peter reminded him of his partner, that any care or love he had for the kid was a shadow of the real feelings he had for another person. Another part of him didn’t care, having someone looking at him with soft eyes was enough for a child like him. “Were you impressed?”

“Yeah… I thought I was seeing a ghost. Tell me, what did they do to deserve the wrath of little Parker?”

“They were smoking, and Mrs. Ivy hates it. The plants do too.”

“I see. I was shocked, you’re so adorable; I never thought you were able of scaring someone that much. I almost peed my pants.”

Guilt grew inside Peter’s stomach, making him scrunch his face as he fought the thoughts and memories of Benny asking him to be good. Would he be disappointed in him? Benny used to smoke, he hadn’t done it much and he had tried to do it away from Peter, but he was a smoker.

“Was I bad…?” He said remorseful. He didn’t cry, he didn’t do that anymore.

“What? No, kid.” Wally hugged him as he got on his eye level. “You were doing your job, don’t worry about that.”

“I want to be good, y’know?”

Peter looked down, afraid of meeting the green eyes of the adult. He was embarrassed about it, he was vulnerable, and he thought himself better than that. He was acting like… well, a child. Why did it feel so wrong?

“Aw, Parker.” Wally squashed him in a hug, lifting him up and leaving him out of breath. “I’d take you home with me if it wasn’t a crime!”

“Hard to breathe, Walls.” His friend apologized and let him go, without erasing the smile out of his face. “You’re being serious, right? That I’m good?”

“Of course you’re. You’re my little hero.”

The hairs from the back of his neck perked up, his senses went haywire and his whole body moved on its own to take him and Wally far away from the danger approaching. A hang-glider broke one of the crystals in the roof, the pieces falling where the two metas were before, and a man in a green skin-tight suit made his way inside the greenhouse. Wally and Peter were near the exit now. He smelled a funny odor coming from the man, a sort of stink gas that made him dizzy.

Peter told Wally to cover his nose, whatever that smell was, it was better not to risk inhaling it. His friend complied and they both watch the man descending and with a sweet and melodic tone, he started speaking:

“Oh, Ivy! I’m back, darling. Did ya miss me?”

Ew, Peter though. Mrs. Ivy is a happily married woman.

Poison Ivy wasn’t there that day because she was having a date night (which started in the morning and ended in about two to three business days) with her wife Harley, a woman Peter hadn’t met but from who he heard nothing but sweet and confusing things about. The kid didn’t know much about his boss’s personal life, so maybe the man was someone important to her, but nobody damaged her space or the life inside it.

“Please, love. Gimme another chance, I swear I’ll cut it out with the bad jokes.”

“Hey, dude. Aren’t ya a little old to make an ass of yourself?” Peter did his best to sound like a Gothamite and look more intimidating. The man just looked down at him and laugh.

“D’ya kiss yer mommy with that mouth? Get out of here, kid.”

“Dr. Ivy isn’t here, Kite Man.” A gas started secreting out of a grenade-looking compartment, decorated with kite-related drawings. He put on a gas mask, making the other two worry. “Back off, what you doing, man?”

“Who’re ya? Bring me my girlfriend, idiot.”

“She ain’t yer girlfriend, dude.” He said, imitating Leo’s accent in an attempt to sound more mature and scarier. “Now back OFF!”

Kite Man unscrewed a smoke bomb; it stank the whole place up. Peter was sure the plants were suffering due to the toxic gas around them. The kid couldn’t see anything, but he was able to feel the presence of the other man, if he played his cards rights, he could stop him.

“Wally, we need to get him out of here. Think you can keep up with me.”

“Don’t worry kid, I’m very fast.”

Peter ran towards Kite Man, who hadn’t thought everything through. He was setting up some sort of decoration, but Pete couldn’t make up what it was. He didn’t care either way, he kicked the older man in the butt and sent him flying towards the wall. Which is when a yellow streak got close to him and punched him with an uppercut. Peter was shocked, but he would confront Wally later.

Kite Man grabbed his kite and started gliding around. Peter wasn’t sure how he propelled himself, but that didn’t matter. The acrobat stuck one of his webs to the redheaded man and swung him around to throw him onto Kite Man. They managed to bring him down, but Kite Man was ready, he had a taser that electrocuted Wally and got him off of his person.

Peter started to fight him as Wally got better. The kid knew when to jump, when to duck and where each fist had to hit. Even in the smoke, Peter hit the right spot each time.

Before Kite Man flew again, the gigantic flytrap got to him. The kid could hear the man from inside the flytrap struggling, but not in any danger.

Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn came in through the entrance. The gas disappeared and Peter caught a glimpse of Harley installing a fan with mini kites attached on it. Finally, Peter realized what Kite Man’s plan was, and he could only think about how stupid that man was.

“What were you thinking, Kite? We broke up years ago! I’m married and trying to reform!”

“Well…” Kite started talking from inside the plant. “We’ve been broken up before, y’know? And I just miss ya, baby. So, I wanted to prepare a surprise… the gas was for shock value, I was going to make an entrance.”

“Dude, you’re so lame.” Peter said.

“Yeah, Kite. Listen to the kid, LAME!” Harley stuck her tongue out and made an L sign on her forehead.

“Why don’t you take the day off, Pete? We’ll clean this mess and take out that piece of trash. I’ll still pay you like a full day.”

Peter and Wally exited the greenhouse, both unable to look at each other. Peter was holding out a scream, a punch and some tears. Wally was scared the kid would run away, and if he did, Wally wouldn’t follow him. Why would he? Peter would only hate him more.

“So, you’re the Flash.” Peter broke the silence, with a statement rather than a question.

“Yeah.”

“You work with the Bats, then?”

“Yes and no. Look, Parker. The day the circus burnt down, the Bats were rescuing the civilian, but Red Hood got shot and Nightwing had to go as back up. There were so many, and they were strong.” Wally passed a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down. “Nightwing and the others were barely able to keep up. They had guns, the Bats didn’t. And I was benched. Batman, he’s a great guy, very smart dude, but he doesn’t like JL members to meddle in Gotham’s business. Because we don’t understand how things work here, apparently.”

“So, you just… did nothing?” Like me, he thought, but he left that thought unspoken.

“I’m sorry, Parker. I’m so, so sorry. I thought they were going to save you, that you were going to be fine. When Nightwing couldn’t find you in the fire, he started looking around everywhere just so he could find you. We were so scared for you… I don’t know what else went on during that night, but I know that I am so fucking sorry, kid. I’d change everything if I had a second chance.”

“Liar…” Peter whispered just loud enough so Wally, the Flash, could hear him.

“What?”

“Can’t the Flash go back in time? Then why the fuck don’t you just turn the clock around and fix what it’s broken. Bring Benny back and leave me alone. I hate you; I HATE YOU.”

Peter ran away, trying hard to not bite his tongue. He was a liar, too. He didn’t hate Wally, or Nightwing, or the rest of the bats. He hated himself, but he was the only one he couldn’t run away from.

Duke was the normal one in his family. Yes, he was the only meta and the one doing patrols during daylight, and yes, he was the face of the movement WE ARE ROBIN and that could’ve got him killed, and yes, his biggest passion (aside from fighting crime and doing puzzles) was singing songs from the 90’s at the top of his lungs.

Aside from all of that, Duke was the most normal one. A Bat with an addiction to adoption, a stalker, a girl who faked her own death and came back like nothing had happened, a child assassin, a child assassin part two, a guy who unironically went by Dick, and Jason. With such a family, no one would blame Duke if he went crazy, but Duke was strong and hardheaded, so he did his best to keep the family together and avoid a murder rampage.

Duke may be the ray of light of Gotham, but he moved in the shadows.

When Steph was going crazy because of a pighead that insulted her Spoiler suit, Duke just so happened to be reading a Buzzfeed article of the best dressed in Gotham, where Spoiler was number two, just behind Steph Brown in the fundraising for the Martha Wayne Foundation. She yelled: vindication and went to the Batburger. When Damian was annoyed, having the worst day possible, Duke asked him to accompany him on his day patrol, praying Bruce didn’t find out about them skipping school, and took him to a little detour through the zoo, where one of the pandas just had a baby. They bought candy apples, a new stuffie for Cass, and took photos with so many animals.

But what could Duke do when Wally West, Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson were fighting in the Batcave?

“I understand, Flash. I do. But you cannot affect the timeline, we don’t know what changes that could bring. You more than anyone should know how fragile time is.”

“Fuck, Bruce. Don’t we owe it to the kid? He said bring Benny back, he lost someone. The only person he had. Jason told us how there was a guy who was very fatherly towards Parker.”

“Dad, please. Can’t you see it from our point of view?”

“I can. I do. You think about giving your whole world for a kid you’re responsible about. But if you do, if Nightwing never leaves the tent, maybe more of us would’ve been shot. Nightwing had to come because Jason was shot, and I drove him to the infirmary. I could’ve lost him again if you didn’t show up.” When Jason got shot, Bruce almost went berserk. Duke had to calm him down by telling him to save his brother. Batman drove him to Alfred, but he never came back. He held his son’s hand until he was out of danger.

“And I’m losing my kid now… I failed him. Please.”

“Bruce, you had to let us fight that battle, together. How could you not care about the kid, dammit? Do you only care about your children? Don’t you feel guilty?” Wally spat at him. It wasn’t a surprise that the fastest man alive blamed a lot of this on Batman. Maybe a lot of them did. Duke… he wasn’t sure. He had been trained on how to fight in Gotham as a meta, but Wally hadn’t. Criminals here weren’t just evil guys with guns, they mind-controlled you, they gassed you with fear gas, they made you crazy.

If Wally had been affected by any of those things… Duke shuddered.

“I DO! I know how I fucked up— I was the one the kid asked for, and I failed him like the worst. Since that day, I thought what if he had been one of you? I wouldn’t have borne to look you in the eyes. And I think of the kid, he’s one of us, he’s so painfully yours, Dick. Any time you guys came with news of Parker, it reminded me of you when you were little. Full of energy and dimples on your face.” Batman sat down and took off his cowl. His eyes were red with guilt and his beard was messy, he hadn’t slept in how many hours.

“Dad, we have to do something.”

“I know. But going to the past is a risk we cannot take, think about it. Right now, we know the kid is struggling, but he’s alive and so are we. If you go back, there’s no guarantee of that.”

Wally was about to jump against Bruce again, but Dick stopped him.

“He’s right, Walls. Our kid is alive, but we need a plan. He isn’t leaving Gotham any time soon, and Ivy, even if I’m mad she didn’t say shit to us, seems to be giving him meals and money.”

“He’s still homeless, Dick. You didn’t see him, he was skin and bones, malnourished, his leg… he doesn’t even want to live in the greenhouse because he’s scared to stay in a place for long.”

“I know that.” Duke’s big brother seemed hurt at that comment. After all, he’s unable to see his kid for fear of him running away. “I need to go home, we’ll think of something to make sure he’s okay.”

“Dick…”

“We can’t ask of him to come with us, but we can try to help him have food, shelter. Whatever he may need.”

They both left, leaving Bruce sitting alone with a pained expression on his face. He turned to Duke, who wasn’t shocked that his adopted dad noticed him standing in the shadows. Duke went to hug him, he needed that.

“What weren’t you telling them?”

“Huh?”

“We all noticed you were hiding something; you raised us little detectives, so deal with that.” Bruce gave him a small chuckle and hugged his kid back.

“That Benny guy. He was a murderer. Tim solved that puzzle a while ago. He murdered his ex-wife’s affair partner and the real father of his child, but he was afraid he would be find out by his ex and child, so he asked Avantico for help. After a while, Benny started aiding the kidnappings until Avantico killed him.”

“Why were you investigating him?”

“When Jason first told us about the man, I wanted to make sure Peter had someone trustworthy by his side. Even if he believed he did, he didn’t.”

“We don’t know that people hold multiples. Maybe he had change, maybe he had other reasons. Even if he didn’t, you of all people would be against him being killed.”

“I know, which is why I didn’t say anything. If he were alive, I would protect him from even Dick. Can you imagine how they would react? Wally is trying to hold himself together because if he crumbles, he won’t be able to rebuild himself, and Dick is far too depressed to help him. They don’t need to know about Benny, they need some hope right now.”

Sometimes, Bruce acted like a father, and Duke was reminded of the guy that took him in after he too had lost everything. Bruce made many mistakes, he was proud, selfish and untrusting, yet he was caring, he was warm and there had been times, so few Duke could count them with one hand, when Bruce felt like home.

Well, maybe there had been more than a few.

Torture isn’t the pain, it’s the eternal moment when hope shatters, when you’re still clinging to a fantasy that will take you down. And maybe you knew that, maybe you foresaw it. But hope is a funny thing, it sounds so positive, so charming and peaceful. But hope hurts like it’s torture. When Peter screamed for his mom, he was being tortured. She screamed for him, too; thinking back at that moment, that was probably the most love she had ever shown him. Wasn’t that fucked up?

It was his last year in the lab; they told his mom that Peter was evolving too fast and they needed to watch over him 24/7. And they took him away as his mother tried to chase after them but was stopped by two security guard.

“No, no. Don’t touch him! You’ll ruin him. MY BABY, my baby… don’t touch my baby.”

He wondered if his mother wanted to protect her son or her weapon, but in her mind, there was probably no difference. His mom, Alyssa, wasn’t his biological mom but a friend of hers that took him in after his bio mom passed away. Alyssa didn’t keep many belongings of his bio mom, just a diary and a bracelet.  

“MOM, mom, please. Help me. HELP ME. I’m scared. MOM, MOM.” His voice went raspy, and his lungs lacked air. His throat hurt from yelling. He kicked and punched the air, then his captors’ faces. He made them fly across the hallway until he was free to run, his feet naked against the cold walls. He didn’t make it very far until someone shot him with a tranquilizer.

He tried to come up with another good memory, a lullaby she had sung, but he came up empty. He used to think love was just a word without any meaning behind it until he met Benny; he told Peter he loved him, that even if he wasn’t his father, he loved him like a son. Peter blamed everyone for Benny’s death. Leo, the circus, the bats, himself. He even wanted to blame Benny, for loving Peter so much it cost him his life. He knew he was a hypocrite for being mad at him, because Pete would’ve died the same way for his one and only friend.

The streets of Gotham were dangerous, and they were so cold at times that he could barely move. Peter thought that walking could keep him warm longer, but his whole body was heavy, and his legs were aching like never before. He had a fever and a cough. He collapsed next to a dumpster, trying to keep his eyes open. He could hear everything: the tv from the third apartment to his left, fifth floor, the discussion a couple was having near the subway and a cat hissing at another. Everything was coming together in his mind like punches to the gut, painfully and unwanted. He thought he might puke, but he fought that feeling because food was precious to him

That’s when he heard a woman screaming for help. A man was trying to get her in his car. As if energy had suddenly been injected into his body, Peter moved without thinking and did a backflip, landing one of his feet one guy’s face. The man fell onto the pavement and freeing the woman, she was a tall brunette with a messy bun. Peter got in between them and before the man could stand up, he put enough force on his finger to knock him out with a flip of his index finger.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

The woman ran as if she had seen a ghost when Peter turned to her, confused he looked down at a puddle where he could see his reflection. His long hair was covering his pale face; there was blood coming from his mouth (he had accidentally bitten his tongue while doing the backflip). He looked horrible, but for the first time, Peter didn’t see Leo’s victim, his mother’s son.

He saw another version of himself. He saw Peter Parker.

The little hero.

The pieces of shattered hope that he left as he walked by were following him, forming a new being, someone who looked eerily familiar, but he couldn’t quite grasp who did he look like. Peter was unaware of the closet of memories dying to burst out and reveal themselves.

First of all, Parker needed new clothes, comfy and stretchy enough so he could move easily. He went into a thrift store in the morning; with the twenty dollars he had been saving. Working for Ivy he made 50 dollars in the last week; he spent thirty on food and a dry shampoo so he could wash his hair with any water he could find. It was cheaper and lasted longer than a wet shampoo. He got a pair of tights that were a little bit too big, but it was fine, and a black shirt with a red spider design. He needed a mask, luckily, he found a balaclava next to some toys and guns.

And just like that, Peter Parker had been reborn.

He used his webs to swing and his hearing to seek out danger. The first night, he helped a few ladies climb up the stairs of their building because their elevator was broken. He had to research how to fix elevators. He had learned some mechanics from one of Benny’s books, but he needed more help. He couldn’t go to the public library, Bay was there.

The second night, he fought a few guys kicking a puppy. He didn’t know what to do with the dog, he barely had enough money to feed himself. Ivy had suggested bumping up his salary, but he knew the woman was also struggling financially—being an ex-rogue came with serious money issues, so he refused the offer. He had lied to Ivy saying he found a place to sleep for cheap. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. Dumpsters were free beds and hanging from lampposts did help him relax.

By the seventh night, people in Gotham had heard the news of the brand-new vigilante that wore a spider in his chest. The press named him Red Spider.

“So… robbing a closed jewelry store is a crime, y’know?” Red Spider asked the three guys all dressed in black that were trying to break into the store. They turned to look at him and cackled like hyenas.

“This the new shit in town? Man, he’s a kid!”

“Ha, people can be so stupid. C’mon little guy, go home to you momma. Isn’t past your bedtime?”

“No, actually. I go to sleep at kick-your-asses o’ clock.”  Peter launched himself at them, his movements fast and his reflexes sharp. They weren’t able to touch him, until one of them took out his gun and shot him. Peter was able to avoid it hitting any vital organs. The bullet didn’t go through, fuck.

Tired of the stupid fighting, Peter webbed him and took them to the police station. His right side was hurting, but he was able to endure. Peter was afraid the wound would get infected, but pharmacies weren’t open there 24/7, except for one. However, it was dangerous, they could call someone: like the bats or the police and he’d have to stop with the vigilante shit.

“Parker.”

Red Hood was looking at him from behind, he was wearing his typical leather jacket outfit. Peter found it cool, if it wasn’t attached to him. Parker didn’t forget he was indebted to him, after the Robin card incident. He had lost that card after he ran away, so he had to at least apologize. Therefore, he stayed.

It didn’t help his senses were screaming at him to trust him.

“So, Wally told all of you what I’m called.”

“That’s not your real name, right?”

“Correct, good job Red Hood, five stars for you.” Peter had been called a little shit before without any reason. Now, it was the only description appropriate for him

“Will you stop running away from us? We are sorry, I am sorry. I got shot and it was my fault Nightwing wasn’t there to help. Parker—”

“Red Spider, call me that.”

There was a moment of silence between them, after a few seconds, Red Hood spoke up carrying a thread of hurt in his voice.

“Let us help you.”

“Like you helped me before? Letting me burn?” Peter knew it was unfair; he was aware they tried. He knew they weren’t bad and that they wanted to help him. Fucking shit, Peter knew. How couldn’t he when he spent the last year running away from the Bats? How couldn’t he know when more than once, when he was hungry and cold, he thought of screaming for them at the top of his lungs? “Leave me alone, Hood.” Peter was about to swing away, when he remembered why he stopped in the first place. “Oh, sorry about your card, man. Kinda lost it, if you get a new one, put a spider design. Spiders are cooler than birds, after all.”

It had been one year and a month since everything started. Dick was going crazy, but he had a plan that was working. Parker wasn’t hiding anymore, he was there preventing crime and if he couldn’t prevent it, he’d definitely stopped it; which is why he asked Babs to tell him where he is, she had control over all the security cameras in Gotham (by very legal means, of course), and after she told him, Dick would go where he was and leave him a care package with a note.

You did a good job today, kiddo.

A warm meal to warm you up, spidey.

Somewhere along the way, Dick started using bad puns for his notes, hoping to gift the kid a laugh. Their lives were fill with danger and violence, a moment of joy was worth fighting for.

Did you know the French fries weren’t cooked in France? They were cooked in Greece.

What do you call cheese that trains every day? Shredded.

They weren’t the best puns ever, but once, during his Nightwing patrol, he found a care package in the middle of his route with a spider doodle and note: What do you call an old man with three daughters named Sarah? A tri-sarah-pops.

The care package was just some band-aids and a plastic spider. He kept them on him like the most important trophies of his life. He showed Wally like it was a precious rock, nothing like they’ve seen before.

“Maybe he’s warming up to us.”

“It’s possible. He was probably so nervous about this.” Dick laughed, thinking of the kid.

Dick continued with his plan, he bought orange juices for him, sandwiches with chicken, cheese and mayo, he bought M&M’s, gauze, band-aids, scotch tape and aspirin. Every day he wrote new puns, and on the days (that were few and spread apart) that Parker corresponded, he’d be beaming until he went to bed.

One day, he had got caught. He was leaving the package, a juice, some chocolates and chicken salad, when Parker appeared with his “suit”. Nightwing took a good look at what the kid was wearing, he wasn’t protected at all. Bullets and knives could puncture him, his wobbly leg was very noticeable, and his bones were the biggest thing about him.

“Hey, Nightwing…”

“Red Spider, it’s nice to meet you.” He wanted to run and hug him tightly.

“I don’t have enough to give you back, y’know? I tried to get some things, but I couldn’t. And I’m really sorry about that, Ivy told me that you would appreciate any gesture, but that felt iffy, and, and—” The kid was rambling with great anxiety. Dick wasn’t expecting him to be chatty with him, it felt especial. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re talking to me and not running away.”

“That’s because I want the box, and, well, Flash told me you went back for me that day. I’m still angry, but you went back, right?”

“I did,” Dick was happy, hearing his kid didn’t hate him. He wanted to start crying, yet he didn’t as to not scare the child. He tried getting closer, but Parker moved on instinct. They both stayed still, like they were dealing with wild animals. “I will always be back for you.”

“Why? I don’t know you… do I? Like I know who you are, but we’ve never met before. And why do I feel like this? Something inside me tells me you’re familiar, something I can recognize.”

“What?”

“I’ve had this feeling for a while, like there is a part of my mind that doesn’t belong to me. A part that’s trapped inside me. And that part is telling me they know you. Who are you, Richard Grayson?”

Your dad, kid.

He wanted to say, but the trembling kid before him was waiting for something that would soothe him.

“Someone with their arms open, whenever you need a hug or a home. Please, if you ever need me, or Wally, come with us.”

“I don’t want to be mad anymore, but it’s hard, because I remember Benny and how he died, I remember of all the times Leo kidnapped someone and how they didn’t make it. I remember Mable, and not knowing if she survived. I tried helping her, and all the people before her. But I wasn’t good enough, I was still with them. I’m mad because I remember I am a bad kid, and Benny died for me.”

“Parker…”

“Did you guys not come for me because I was bad?”

Dick moved, and this time Peter didn’t run away. Dick hugged him as he took off his balaclava and stroked his hair to let him know he was safe there. He didn’t hear Parker cry, but he hugged him back hard. They had both needed that, their connection. Dick looked at his kid’s face, there was no mistaking it, that was his child. He didn’t need a blood test; he didn’t have to go to extreme lengths to prove it.

Dick was sure that even if they didn’t share blood, Parker was his.

Peter had fallen asleep in Dick’s arms, he had been having a fever that day. His sick body gave up as soon as he felt safe.

The door on his mind was opening little by little. The words like Spider-man, Parker and hero turning a new meaning. That screaming, begging part of him was fusing with his heart, a soul from a body not to different to his own.

Who was Richard Grayson? Who was Peter Parker?

He woke up in a bed, in a room, in a house. Things that shouldn’t be weird, but to him they were. At his side, Dick and Wally were sleeping intertwined in a chair. Peter thought about waking them up, but he couldn’t speak. His heart was weighing on him like a rock and his mind racing to get him to an explanation of what was going on.

Next to him, there was a nightstand with ibuprofen, water and disinfectant. His body was covered in bandages; all his wounds were treated. His leg was in a cast, and he couldn’t move it with ease.

Wally woke up and smiled at him.

“Hey there, my little hero.” Peter started crying for the first time in a year.

“I’m Peter Parker, that was my name.”

Chapter Text

Someone had stolen from Steph. She wouldn’t have cared if it was money, she was making enough in her side hustle as a fashion influencer to be able to give, something she and all her family was very proud of; it wasn’t clothes either, if she ever saw Cass wearing one of her outfits, she would go feral taking pictures of her. No.

Some stole her last CANDY BAR.

And it wasn’t just any candy bar, it was a limited-edition snicker with marshmallow, and it was shaped like the Wonder Woman ‘w’. The beauty of the WonderMellow snickers was not sharing them, hoarding them like a dragon with a hyperfixation on the Amazonian. And Stephanie identified herself as a bisexual dragon who liked strong women. So, when a foe enters her hoard, she must protect it with force.

“Who is't dares consume mine own marchpane?”

“What?” Her brother, Duke, asked her while eating his cereal. Steph looked at him suspiciously, because that cereal could’ve been a cover up. Duke was a beast that could chug down twelve servings of pasta if it was good enough. Nobody was freaking normal in this family!

“Someone confesseth, 'r i shall square thee!”

“Square up, wench!” Tim got up and stood on a fight stance. If Steph suspected anyone, the least likely was Timothy Drake. He was as bitter and uninteresting as his coffee; his palate wasn’t prepared for the glorious WonderMellow snickers. Damian entered the kitchen silently and gave them an unimpressed glare while he sat down and Alfred served him his breakfast.

“Isn’t it too early for this… rowdiness?”

“Tis not, mine dear brother. Someone might not but pay for their crimes.” Steph liked being extra, so she signaled the butler to help her. With a warm smile, he went upstairs and came back with a detective Halloween disguise: A cape that covered her shoulders over a black button-up with dramatic sleeves with puffy cuffs, pants that matched the cape that were flowy but flattering and not khaki, you wouldn’t catch her wearing khaki ever, and a beret.

The lights went off, only one remained, a burning white light that hit directly in Damian’s face. His youthful features annoyed at his sibling and with the legs on the table like a delinquent, he started to speak:

“Who do you think you are, Brown? Questioning me, doubting me? Are you so blinded by your need for truth and justice that you turn on your own family?”

“Tell me where you were between last night at 11 p.m. and 8 a.m. this morning?” She slammed her hands on the table trying to seem more intimidating, the interrogation room (the kitchen) trembled beneath her (she knocked over a glass that luckily didn’t break).

“I was sleeping! My bedtime is at 10 p.m. and I can’t have sugars after 8 p.m. And also, your peasant snacks are too sweet and processed for me. I have better tastes than any of you.”

“Oh, you little—”

“However, I woke up at midnight after an unpleasant dream, so I went downstairs to ask Alfred for a glass of milk, when I saw someone coming from the Batcave, they were looking at their phone, but they were wrapped in a blanket and muttering something I couldn’t make out. They went upstairs and tripped on the stairs.”

“Batcave, you say. Tripped on the stairs…” She turned to her other two brothers, one of them sweating under the pressure, the other one lifting one eyebrow and holding his head on two of his knuckles. Steph took a better look, and Tim, who had eyebags and horrible breath, also had a small bruise on his forehead.

The light switched to her black-haired, caffeine-addict brother. His blue eyes meeting her green’s, ocean fighting the earth. He took a sip of his mug in an act of defiance.

“Timmy, were you the one working late in the cave?”

“What proof do you’ve got to make such accusations?”

“One, Signal has soccer practice today, so he went to sleep earlier than usual. Two, Dames said the suspect was glued to their phone, and we all know how addicted to your gadgets you’re. Three, there’s a suspicious green and purple bruise on your forehead, like you fell. Did you fall, Timmy? In despair?”

“Ok, I confess!”

“AHA!” S

“I was the one working late, but that’s because patrol ran late, I had to update a few things after. I tripped like an idiot on the stairs. But I didn’t steal the fucking candy bar, I hate that shit! I— have my secret stash of coffee jellies and sweets in my room in my hidden mini-fridge! There, you have the truth!”

Timmy pretended to be hurt and wailing. He was having fun after all. However, all this meant there was only one suspect left, someone who had been very quietly controlling the light in the room, maybe making her doubt her other brothers.

“You.”

“Steph, you need to calm down.”

“Do not quote Taylor Swift to me, kid. You’ve been messing on my turf, get ready to get punished.” Steph cracked her knuckles and neck, as if she was getting ready to beat his ass.

“Wow, accusing the black guy of stealing. Not very ally of you, Steph.”

“Don’t bring race into this, Duke. Or I’ll bring the sexism!”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, bitch.”

Duke jumped on the counter, trying to avoid getting punched by his sister, before starting running in circles around the kitchen since Alfred politely asked them to not destroy anything until 1 p.m. Duke kept on screaming that he was innocent, that he was being framed! Bamboozled, Steph slowed down. A tired groan came out of the living room. The four of them rushed there and they found Jason sitting on the couch, reading with a tired expression.

A new suspect had appeared.

“Hey, guy—”

The four detectives ran up to their older brother and each one took on their job. Damian drew up his hidden sword, as the intimidation, Tim went to turn off the lights as Duke grabbed a flashlight supplied by Alfred, who was thoroughly enjoying this. Steph sat on the armchair near the sofa and pretended to light on a fake pipe.

“Was it you? Are you the one to blame.” Jason stayed quiet, his mental motor running slowly, analyzing the situation.

“Before I confess to anything, mind telling me what are you guys doing? Why are you all dressed like detectives? When did y’all change?”

“That is not relevant to the plot of this mystery, zombie boy. We need to know what you are doing here and if you were the one to eat the last WonderMellow!” Duke adjusted his tie which he didn’t know how to tie. Jay said he was going to teach him soon, but that ties were annoying, so he was better off without one. Duke didn’t agree, he thought he looked sexy with one.

“Look, I’m not gonna lie, those shits rock. But if I wanted to, I would steal them in bulk, and also, I don’t really check the snack pantry here. I slept here because I was needed by today very early in the morning, so might as well crash here and take advantage of Alfie’s amazing cooking.”

“Thank you, Master Jason.”

“No, thank you, Alfred.”

“One of you has to be lying! My favorite candy is gone, gone. As if it had never existed, the memory of me erased from its life. The things we did together and who we were before, all of that is gone! And just because one of you had a craving…”

Steph monologue ended with a tearful cry, waterfalls looking for revenge on his brothers. The hurt was clear in her voice and the knife in her back was going in deeper, striving for her heart.

Of course, it was fake, but the fun was in being extra and annoying.

Suddenly, the beautiful young lady with raven hair and eyes big as a doe came down the stairs, munching on Steph’s snack.

“Hey Steph, I took your candy, hope you don’t mind, it’s really good!”

“Oh, it was you, Cassie!” Steph went to hug her sister as if she hadn’t been giving the performance of her life before. “Of course it’s fine. I told you they were amazing, wanna go buy more today after Dick’s briefing?”

Her brothers were shocked, hurt and confused. They were looking at her like she had three heads and all of them were a different shade of green. Damian snapped out of that state and confronted his sister.

“Hey! You were ready to murder us but it’s fine if it’s Cassandra?”

“What can I say, I’m a feminist.”

The Wayne manor door opened, revealing Dick and Wally with huge grins on their faces. They took a few steps inside and headed to the dining room where everyone was finishing their breakfast. The Wayne’s weren’t the type to eat together most mornings, but when Dick called it sounded like something important was going on, so they all gathered to hear the news. As normal, they were ready to hear something devastating, good news wasn’t something they were used to, as Cass eloquently told her therapist once before he requested a wellness check on her (fun day on the manor, that was). However, the mood shifted when Wally, the Flash, who couldn’t keep a poker face to save his life, was smiling like a fool from ear-to-ear.

Dick wasn’t much better; he was beaming like a hundred blessings were bestowed upon him. The kids were shocked as even Bruce seemed to relax a little when they came in.

“I assume you’ve got good news.”

Without uttering a word, they both split apart to reveal a kid with messy black hair, finally clean again with its usual fluffiness, a galaxy all over his face that made his blue eyes pop up more. His expression was pulling at Bruce’s heart strings, with its shaking lip and the baby fat still in his face. He was thinner than Bruce remembered.

Spider-man, Parker, Red Spider, grandson.

He was there, wearing a clean pair of jeans and a shirt too big for his body.

“Everyone, please meet Peter Parker, also known as Red Spider. He will be joining us today. Pete, this is everyone.”

The kid looked around, assimilating everyone’s faces. He seemed to be confused, as if something were whispering in his ear and he was trying to figure out where the sound came from.

“D’y’all have bats living here?”

Steph burst milk through her nose as she laughed.

“Steph! That’s gross.” Tim said while cackling as well.

Bruce felt warm, all his kids there sharing a laugh and good news. They had few opportunities to have normal lives, to laugh like the kids they were and to enjoy a good meal without worrying about a threat. For one moment, they were able to be a family. Peter looked at Bruce with the same eyes his older son had looked at him with, a certain curiosity peaking from behind that gaze.

“You look older than I remember, dude.”

“I’m glad to see you as well. I see you noticed the bats from the Batcave.”

“Batcave? What kind of stupid name is that?” Peter made a mocking gesture, and Bruce appreciated the attempt at cutting the tension between them. His older son pretended to be hurt, or maybe he truly was, Bruce was too absorbed in the moment to tell.

“Weren’t you in a place called Spiders’ Den?” Damian, with the tact of a wrecking ball and the subtlety of an elephant wearing a hat, asked the little one, who seemed shock at the mention of his old place.

Dick stepped forward, ready to mediate the situation and Wally just said: “Yo, what the hell, D?”

Nevertheless, Red Spider laughed at him, at first awkwardly, but growing in confidence by the second. “Gosh, I guess you’re right. At least Spiders’ Den had an actual spider person, you guys aren’t even part bat.”

“You cannot be serious, Parker. The Batcave has literal bats living inside.” Said the other kid, trying not to sound exasperated.

“Really? Cool, but at least my last place wasn’t hiding cameras that looked all over the city, talk about respecting privacy, geez.”

“It was a trafficking ring!”

The two kids continued bickering as Peter took a seat next to Damian, both enjoying the presence of the other. After a few more jabs at each other, they started talking about the bats and the other animals Damian was taking care of. Peter told him about the insects he cared for in Ivy’s greenhouse and the plants he investigated. Bruce couldn’t help but think that they looked more like siblings than anything else. He couldn’t lie, a part of him was aching watching them interact, Bruce was aware of Damian’s feelings towards the situation, how he viewed Dick as a second (maybe the first, actually) father.

He was aware the kid wasn’t eating anything, but nobody was pressuring him to. Maybe most didn’t notice, but if Bruce knew his children, they were too smart not to take note of that.

Peter hadn’t spoken to Jason, either, even when he tried to engage in conversation with the child, he wouldn’t respond him or just shoot him a glare that didn’t fail to tense the air. The ones that talked to him the most were Duke, Steph and Damian. Cass wanted to speak to him, but she was so happy, she couldn’t conjure many words. Peter seemed to appreciate her, either way.

Alfred took away the plates, and Peter seemed eager to help. It didn’t seem like a good idea to deny him of that, so the butler allowed the kid to follow him with a few plates on his hands and told him to dry the dishes he cleaned. Tim went with them and sat on the counter, storing the plates near where he was. Cass followed along, and she was in charge of storing the glasses.

“I’ve never seen so many of you enthuse in cleaning your mess.” Alfred said in an accusatory tone.

“What do you mean, Alfie? We are the epitome of cleanliness.”

“Master Stephanie, the cup you broke earlier is still on the floor.”

“On it, A!”

A redhead entered the manor at record speed, sweaty and panting, holding at least ten bags, five in each arm, full of clothes for the kid. Her glasses were twisted, her hair wet from a shower and she was wearing a black and white striped long sleeve with star sweatpants. Peter recognized her as Bay, but the rest knew her as Babs.

“I’m here! I made it. Sorry, was in the shower. Where is— PETER! Oh my gosh, I’m so happy to see you, love.” Babs wanted to give the kid a hug, but she refrained herself from physical contact, the kid was still afraid of something, and she didn’t want to make it worse. Peter looked between her and Jason a few times. “I’m Babs, Oracle, I can’t believe you’re here.” She was about to cry.

The child looked at Wally and he knew immediately to hold him, as if he were hiding Peter, protecting him.

“Sorry, uh… he said he was ready to meet everyone, but he isn’t fully comfortable like this. Hey, kiddo, what if you greeted everyone from above?”

“Are you about to murder the child?” Duke asked concerned.

“What? No! Pete, c’mon, do you ceiling thing.”

Peter put on his domino mask and with a web climbed to the ceiling, where he sticked his feet and stared at everyone upside down. He took a deep breath and relaxed. Bruce could relate to that feeling, the shield that the mask or cowl provided him. He paid close attention to Peter’s teeth when exhaled, long and sharp fangs stood out from the rest. The cast on his leg, that didn’t impose any obstacles in his movement since he was so flexible and strong, made Bruce’s brain ideate a hundred ways he could’ve got hurt.

The kid was a meta, that Bruce knew. The domino mask was actually covering his eyes, he shouldn’t have been able to see but he was aware of everything around him.

“Why is this house so loud?”

Bruce was… amused at that. He never expected someone to describe the Wayne manor as loud. A lot of people had described it as eerily quiet and cold. Thanks to his kids, the house was more colorful and noisier, but it was still pretty quiet. “What are you hearing, Peter?”

“The bats, for once; your heartbeats, they are fast; the fridge, it’s old and needs repairment; the animals in the barn.” Batman was impressed, but when he thought the kid was over, he continued as he covered his ears. “I can hear the people chatting on the subway, one of them is planning on proposing to her girlfriend tomorrow night; I can hear Ivy and Harley doing some cleaning, I’m not sure where their house is, but it’s very tall. Everything is a lot.”

“I think I know,” Duke said as he tried to get away from Peter with a guilty expression. “You’re probably reacting to my power.”

“You’re enhancing me?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“I think I have some noise cancelling headphones in my room, gimme a minute.”

Peter went to a corner in the tall roof, where there wasn’t much light. His legs dislocated as did his arms, making him move in a way no human should. Babs went pale while watching him, and Jay just whispered something along the lines of: Jesus fucking Christ. Damian was interested; he liked animals and a human spider that looked like Dick was right up his alley.

Tim came down with the headphones and Peter grabbed them with a web, he let out a sigh of relief when he put them on. Carefully, he went down and climbed Wally like a tree, he seemed the most comfortable with him.

Bruce spoke to Dick, without uttering a sound:

“Does he know?”

Dick shook his head with a sad expression. Bruce should’ve guessed, his son would be jumping around and saying: my son, my son, my son whenever he had the chance. But he was swallowing his love and pride, just to not scare the kid. The older man thought, and he couldn’t understand how Peter could not know. They looked almost identical, and the loving gaze he stared at Peter with was unmistakable, Bruce recognized it as his muscles always did the same when he looked at his family. The fatherly gaze.

“Thank you, Tim. They help a little.”

“Would you say I’m your favorite now?” Steph hit his arm and Duke his leg. Cass stared him down.

“My favorite? I’m pretty sure I was running away from all of you until a few days ago.”

“Can we ask what made you change your mind?”

“Dick gave me candy. I’ve been told to always follow strangers who give you candy.” Peter chuckled at his own joke. Nobody else laughed. “Damn, tough crowd. Fine, I can’t really explain it. It was a combination of a few things, I was very tired of living in the streets, of being alone and cold. I also stopped blaming you. I can’t remember that night very well, it’s all kind of a blur, but I know my friend died. I grieved him, I still do. I go to his shrine to say hi to him, hoping he’s having a good day. That helped a little, I felt some sort of connection.”

“Oh, Petey…”

“And I missed Wally, and when Dick tried to get on my good side, he did it with bad dad jokes,” he smiled. “That was so dorky, but they reminded me of someone, I’m not totally sure who, though. My senses were screaming at me, louder than ever, to go with him. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Whenever I’m with them… I feel safe. That never happened to me before.”

Dick was crying, Wally wasn’t any better. They both hugged their kid who was having trouble breathing in between them, but he didn’t push them away.

“Can we join in?” Cass asked the kid, who gave her a smile and extended his arm.

She, Steph and Duke joined in. Tim didn’t like hugs that much, so he opted for ruffling his hair. Damian stood near Dick, who brought him in without a second though. Peter wanted to escape now, regretting his decision, he tried to sneak out from the hug. The ones outside were laughing at the comedy.

“How long until they notice?” Peter asked Bruce.

“Give them a minute.”

Jason wanted to ask, so did Barbara. During the week, Peter had grown warmer to the rest of the Wayne’s, even Bat himself received some Peter love, they had a very grandchild-grandpa bonding moment when B caught the kid trying to imitate Batman. That was a quick way to gain the heart of the older man, to be cute while on costume. Jason called him predictable; Barbara called him ancient.

The pre-teen was bonding with everyone there, except Jason and Babs. They couldn’t completely blame him, in a way, they were the promise of help and hope that ended up shattered in a hundred pieces. But they sought forgiveness, in a way.

Jason told Dick about this, maybe he had some insight on what the kid was thinking, he just laughed at him and told him to give Parker time, that he wasn’t hated nor was Barbara. Wally told him the same thing. They knew they couldn’t force Peter to like them, or talk to them, but it was painful to see their family growing and feeling left behind.

A few days after his conversation with his brother, weird things started happening around the library. Jason hanged out there most days, he liked being around books, and Babs worked there. They spent a lot of time together, which is the reason they felt closer than the rest. Even if they were almost ten years apart in age, with Jason being twenty-one and Babs recently thirty, they had a lot in common and enjoyed each other’s company.

Jason liked having sisters, after all. Especially if they were as badass as Oracle.

The first weird thing that happened in the library was that the computer’s software was updated. Somebody connected to their net and upgraded them. They asked Tim if it was him, and he responded with a cryptic “Kind of, but not really.”

Secondly, the shelves were dusted overnight, the cameras captured none of it, they had been disconnected for just one night. Barbara was going crazy, was her family playing a weird prank on her? Jason was looking around, squeezing any detail out of place he could find. They took out the red string and came up with theories. Their most recent one was that their family felt bad about them, so they were trying to be nice.

The third, and weirdest one, was the cheese snacks that appeared on the desk each night.

They had had enough; they armed themselves with the proof they collected and confronted everyone a rare warm night.

“So, after telling you all this, can you guys tell us why you are doing this?” Barbara’s hair was a rat nest, he stayed up all night helping them as Oracle, but also, making a PowerPoint presentation. It was very nice, it was blue and purple, she was very proud of it.

“We’re serious, we get it, you guys feel sorry about us, but this feels like you’re treating us like children. Talk to us dammit, or I swear I’ll burn down all your suits and hang them like flags.”

Bruce stayed quiet, rising an eyebrow at Tim, who was laughing maniacally.

“You guys aren’t as brilliant as I previously thought. Although I commend you on your presentation prowess.” Damian said while taking a sip of water.

“Guys, you really should apologize.” Dick said, hugging his kid who was making himself smaller in the chair, his face as red as tomatoes.

Peter couldn’t look at them, embarrassed about everything. He punched the guy he didn’t know was his dad in the arm for throwing him to the wolves.

“It was me.” He spoke.

“What? Why, Pete? Oh my gosh, we’re not gonna do anything bad if it was you, did something happen?” Babs said with a sweet tone of voice, the siblings faked shock expressions and hurt in their eyes. Sarcastic asshats.

“I wanted to apologize to both of you, for what I said before… about letting me die. I know it wasn’t what happened. I know you’re always there Babs, and I purposefully tried to avoid all your cameras and said hurtful things so you could hear me. And Jay got shot because I asked you for help. I was embarrassed… I’m really sorry.”

Red Hood was speechless; he just sat down red-faced and muttered something only Peter could hear, and he smiled at him. Barbara was fighting the urge to hug him, which he later allowed.

Peter was going to be fine; he knew at that moment. His legs weren’t fighting the need to run away, his mind felt sound for the very first time. That night, he asked Dick and Wally if they could go somewhere before heading home. Peter led them to an alleyway where there were a few candles over a dirty cardboard box and a drawing of a black man with a thick mustache that was stuck at the wall with a chewed gum.

It was Benny’s shrine. Peter lit the candles on and kneeled down. He didn’t start praying or anything, he just talked.

“Hey Ben, I managed to apologize to the rest of the family today. Jason even told me he already loved me! Which was very sweet, I remember thinking no one but you would ever love me again. So, I’m sure you had something to do with this. I even have a Richard! Just like we did before. I miss you, y’know? I miss reading with you and sometimes stealing your beer—”

“What?” Dick said.

“Nothing. I miss talking to you a lot, too. You were the smartest person I knew, I see a lot of you in Tim. He is very interesting and taught me how to hack a computer! It was difficult, but he’s a good teacher. I see your gaze in Bruce’s, too. You both have old man wrinkles. You wouldn’t have liked him, I bet. He’s very hard to read and you loved reading. Steph gives me food, like a lot of food. And Barbara had bought me tons of clothes! I have a full closet now! And Duke said I looked like a fly!”

“He said you looked fly, Pete.” Wally corrected him.

“What does that even mean? Flies would dress nice if they could; they have beautiful colors when reflecting light. And there’s Cass and Damian, they remind me a lot of, well, me. The time I spent with mother,” Dick’s mouth twitched a little and Wally offered him his hand, which he accepted but said that he was fine. “They move a lot like me, but less…spidery like, y’know? Damian has tons of animals, but not like the ones in the circus, these ones are happy and well-fed. His dog, Titus, is huge! He’s almost as tall as me on four legs. It’s so cool.”

The candles were starting to go out, and Peter rushed his speech before they were completely out.

“Anyways, that was what’s been happening with me, I hope I hear from you soon. Oh, and another thing! I’ve been having these dreams, they feel too real sometimes… it’s like me but from the future? Although they sort feel like memories. When I have more info, I’ll tell you. I hope you have a good afterlife, BEN!”

Peter didn’t realize he was crying. He had been crying so much lately.

“How are you feeling, kiddo?”

Peter smiled at them through the sorrow and loss, seeing his forever family before him. He felt loved, this time for real. “Let’s go home!”