Stuck in a Web

Peter had never gotten a chemical burn inside him before.  Yes, his mouth and jaw stung, but inside; inside it burned.  His throat felt smaller, raised scarring on the inside of his throat taking up more and more space leaving Peter struggling to swallow his own spit.  He’d manage it though, he had a whole warehouse collapse on him before and he got back up.  Spiderman always got back up. 

‘No. Peter Parker always got back up’, Peter tells himself.  He always viewed himself and Spiderman as different people.  One was a teenager, living alone and in poverty, while the other was a hero that people loved, that people used to love.  Peter remembers how fast the world changed on him when his identity was revealed, when Mysterio turned the world against him in a single moment.  When Peter saw how the world had no trouble viewing Spiderman and Peter as the same person, the same villain.  How he had ruined his friends' lives because they knew him, how the only way to not drag them down with him, was removing Peter from everyone’s lives.  Not Spiderman but Peter.  Peter was the issue, not Spiderman and it was Peter who had to get back up, not Spiderman.  Peter was going to get back up, and if he had to do it alone, it wouldn’t be the first time or the last.  Peter Parker always gets back up.

Peter watches the horizon as the sun begins rising over Gotham. By the time it sets, he thinks his throat will be mostly healed. After getting drugged repeatedly, his healing had been working on overdrive; leaving Peter’s senses buzzing as every piece of him itched. It didn’t matter how little food he had consumed since arriving in Gotham, his healing would find the energy elsewhere. It’s the same as normal people; when there’s nothing in the stomach to digest, it relies on fat reserves to find the energy needed.  When there’s no fat, it relies on muscles, and when there’s not enough muscles, the body begins breaking down organs.  Peter hopes it doesn’t get that far.  

“I’m Damian.”

“Huh?” Peter is pulled out of his thoughts as he looks at the boy next to him, the New Yorker in him being surprised that someone would start a conversation with a stranger on public transport of all places. 

“My name. It’s Damian.” the boy reaches out for a handshake, which Peter hesitantly accepts.

“Peter.” The boy nods and glances down at Peter’s hoodie.

“You like aliens?”

“Aliens?”

“You did not know they were aliens?”

“Who’s an alien?” Peter was very confused.  He knew he was wearing a Superman hoodie but surely Superman wasn’t an alien.  All the aliens Peter knew looked like, well… like aliens.  There were a few that looked human, Captain Marvel looked human, but she was rarely around.  The universe was infinite, countless worlds and galaxies needing saving; Earth wasn’t special.  That’s what Captain Marvel always said.  She would only show up when something really bad was happening, something universally devastating.  From what Peter had briefly read about Superman, he was around constantly, stopping disasters and villains that, compared to the entirety of the universe, was meaningless.   

“You did not know the Supers were aliens?” Damian asks in a way that leaves Peter feeling exposed.  What was this kid's problem?

“No, I knew that” Peter attempts to give Damian the same scrutinising look that Damian was giving him, “You just worded it weirdly.”

Damian said nothing, he didn’t have too, Peter could feel the judgement seeping out of him.  Peter makes a point to tilt his whole body away from Damian, and continues looking out the window.  They were almost out of Gotham.  First thing he would do when he gets to New York was look up local heroes and figure out who looked the most likely to be able to help Peter return to his universe.  In Peter’s universe, the city was packed with heroes; Daredevil, the Avengers, the Fantastic four; there was no such thing as ‘too many cooks in the kitchen’ when it came to New York.  Peter didn’t see how it would be any different here.  The most populated place in America would have the most superheroes; it was a numbers game. 

Peter was beginning to feel bad about dismissing Damian so quickly, he could hear him open his mouth, attempting to continue the conversation before changing his mind.  Every few minutes repeating the process as Peter ignored him, choosing instead to watch the world go by from the window.  Maybe Peter was too harsh, Damian wasn’t trying to fish information out of him; he was only trying to talk.  Peter reminded himself that not everyone he meets is a vigilante trying to kidnap him, sometimes they’re just kids with bad social skills. 

“Who do you like?” Peter asks, glancing towards Damian again. “Superhero wise.”

“Robin.” Damian replies instantly, perking up when Peter had been the one to continue the conversation,  “The current one, not the outdated ones.”

“Is he one of the bats?” Peter asked.

“...technically, but he is…” Damian was careful with his wording, “the most reliable of them.”

“Yeah?” Peter asks, “I’m not really fond of any of the Gotham superheroes.  They all seem too…violent.”

“That’s understandable,” Damian says, looking back at Peter’s hoodie, “I assume the Supers aren’t your favourite either considering you didn’t even know they were aliens.”

“Nah, I just borrowed this from someone. I’m not really into the whole superhero stuff.” Peter lied.  He was really big into the superhero stuff, Peter was so into Superhero stuff that he was superhero stuff.  He just wasn’t big into this dimension’s Superhero stuff. 

“You must have a favourite, everyone does.” Damian says, not willing to drop the conversation now that Peter was willingly talking to him.

“I mean… I guess one of the New York ones,” Peter said, “I just haven’t decided which one yet.”

“...What New York ones?”

“I don’t know,” Peter said looking back out the window, “I’ll decide which one later.”

“There are no-” Damian was cut off when his phone began ringing, he scowled as he took his phone out of his pocket.  Peter glanced over his shoulder, noticing a ‘Father’ was calling him.  He was surprised when the boy, instead of answering, rejected the call and turned off his phone.

“Family problems?” Peter asked.

“Yes, he had a fight with my brother and now my brother has run away. I do not wish to speak with him at this moment.”

“Are you… running away?” Peter asked.  Come to think of it, it was strange that someone’s Damian’s age was taking this bus alone.  But then again, Peter, who looked even younger than Damian, was also taking the bus alone.  He couldn’t judge him too harshly.

“I am not running away.” Damian stated, “I am bringing my brother home. What about you? Are you running away?”

“No.” Peter pouted, “I’m going home.”

“New York?”

“Yeah.”

“Why were you in Gotham?”

“Not really sure, things just sort of happened I guess.”

“Is your family in New York?” Damian asked, and Peter hesitated.  No, his family wasn’t in New York.  He didn’t have any family still alive.

“...Yeah,” Peter said, “They’re in New York”

“Where do they live?”

“Queens.” Peter said softly, eyes back to the world outside his window, they had just passed a sign; ‘Welcome to Metropolis’.

“That is good.  I am also headed to Queens.” Damian said, “I do not know how to get there from the bus depot, so you will have to show me.”

Peter glances back over to Damian.

“Sure.”

Damian had been waiting at the Gotham Bus Depot since 4.a.m, waiting and watching for any signs of Peter.  He had been so certain that he would be there, certain that he had figured Peter out, and yet as he watched the queue for the bus Peter was supposed to catch, forming with still no sign of Peter, he had almost given up hope.  Until he saw him.  Slipping seamlessly into the crowd as if he had always been there.  Damian was the last to get on the bus, spotting Peter near the back and taking his place beside him.

The conversation hadn’t gone how Damian had planned, he didn’t know how to talk to kids and when he made a comment about Peter not knowing that the Kents were aliens, a fact that was deemed common knowledge; Peter had shut him out.  Damian tried to start the conversation again, but he wasn’t sure how.  Damian wasn’t charming like Dick, and he wasn’t good with children like Clark.  Damian was direct and harsh; two things he felt Peter wasn’t fond of.  He would think of another starting point before deciding against it, he even contemplated apologising as he had obviously upset him, but Damian didn’t even know what to apologise for.  But then, Peter had asked him a question.  Peter had willingly started conversing with Damian, something none of his family had been able to get him to do, and Damian couldn’t help but feel prideful. 

The more Peter talked, the more Damian was left concerned.  Peter did not know about the Kents being aliens, he appeared not to know who Robin was (a fact that only slightly annoyed Damian), he talked about liking New York superheroes when there weren't any New York superheroes, and lastly; he had hesitated on the topic of family.  There was clearly something wrong with him.  Something that muddled his memories, a false reality placed over the real one, one that Peter was constantly mixing up.  Damian knew that some children had imaginary friends, using them to cope with loneliness or trauma, but Peter had created an imaginary life.  One where he had family in Queens, one where Peter was never trafficked and experimented on, one that Peter was trying to get back to. Damian took mental note to ensure a child psychologist would examine him when he returns to the manor.  Something was wrong with Peter’s mind, and Damian would be the one to fix it.

Damian was the first of the two to get off the bus, his duffel bag hanging over his shoulder.  He watched Peter getting off the bus, analysing his expressions trying to see if there was any hesitation, but no; Peter seemed to know where he was, he didn't hesitate as he led Damian towards the closest Subway entrance.  He didn't check the subway map, with the confusing mess of different coloured lines. He walked confidently, with experience, as he checked for Subway officers before jumping over the turnstile, glancing back to make sure Damian was following. It wasn’t long before Damian and Peter emerged onto the streets of Queens.  

“So,” Peter turned to Damian, “you know where in Queens your brother is or do we actually have to look for him?”

“It'll be a few days before he shows up.” Damian replied without hesitation.

Peter furrowed his brows; he didn’t believe him.  It looked like this brother who had a fight with their dad and proceeded to run away to Queens, was actually Damian. Peter had just helped a teenager run away and now he couldn't just abandon him on the streets as much as he wanted too.  

“Am I gonna get in trouble for kidnapping you or something?” Peter looks up at Damian, “Does it even count as kidnapping when you're bigger than me.”

“This is not a kidnapping.” Damian stated, sounding proud of himself. 

There was an awkward silence between the two before Peter's stomach growled.  

“You’re hungry.” Damian stated, and grabbed Peter's arm, half dragging the confused boy down the street before stopping after a few minutes.  Damian knew it wouldn't take long to find somewhere selling food, cities this large always had a cafe or small shop on every corner but this was an opportunity to test Peter's memory further, to see if Peter really was familiar with New York or if that too was an error in Peter’s mind. “You decide where to go. I don't know this city well”

“Oh um…” Peter shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out the spare change he had left; $5.45, they would have to find somewhere cheap, a food stand somewhere. “There should be some street vendors up near Astoria Park, we can try there?”

“Then let's go.” Damian said, still holding onto Peter’s hand as he was led through the bustling streets. It was busier than Gotham, more dense population wise, with thousands of people passing them by, tourists and locals alike. Peter’s knowledge of the city streets had surprised Damian, memorising a subway map was one thing, but knowing shortcuts was another.  Peter was most likely from Queens, living there for a large chunk of his life. Damian just had to convince Peter to take him back to his so-called home.  There, Damian decided, would be the biggest step in figuring Peter out, to find out who had been the reason for Peter’s situation.  Damian really wanted to meet Peter’s “family”.

It wasn’t long until they reached a small vendor selling hot dogs just outside Astoria Park.  Just like Peter said. Damian swatted Peter’s hand away as he tried to pay.  Peter had tried to discourage him but eventually relented as he saw the amount of cash in Damian’s wallet. The pair soon found themselves sitting on a bench inside the park as Peter immediately tucked into the food.  Once Peter had finished eating, Damian shoved his own, untouched one into Peter’s hand.

“I’m a vegetarian.” Damian commented.

“Then why did you-” 

“It doesn’t matter why, just eat it.”

Peter sighed, knowing there was no point arguing as he ate Damian’s food as well.  

“There’s a few vegetarian places a couple blocks away,” Peter said, thanking Damian as he was handed a napkin to clean his face. “We can go there next.  I feel bad that you paid for my food and didn’t even get to eat anything”

Damian nodded and stood up.  Getting to the cafe, Damian had studied the menu and the ingredients in each item before he ordered his food along with Peter’s.  Claiming that he hated eating alone and that Peter was obviously hungry so he should just accept the food offered. Peter thought Damian was very weird, it was clear that Damian struggled to make friends, it was as if Damian thought he could buy his friendship with food.  Damian was right and he knew it. 

Positive reinforcement.  That’s what Damian was doing with Peter, the rest of his family had only given Peter reasons to distrust them, to run from them. Damian decided that if it was him that ensured Peter's recovery, then Peter would subconsciously correlate Damian with positive emotions.  Like slowly gaining the trust of a stray by giving it food.  To earn its trust you must be consistent and calm.  Showing up at the same time everyday and giving the animal space until it willingly came to you. Damian didn't see any difference when it came to Peter.  Food, a calm aura, and no sudden movements.  Just like approaching a stray. 

Over the next few hours, Peter had led Damian through the streets of Queens, pointing out tourist traps, explaining that the subway technically ran 24-hours but would slow down the later it got, and how some places should be avoided all-together due to the crime rate and lack of police presence.  Every hour or so, Damian would claim he was hungry and pull Peter into the closest store to purchase snacks or bodega sandwiches.  At first, Peter would refuse the food offered but Damian wasn’t someone who took no for an answer and Peter was a bottomless pit.  It wasn’t until the sun began setting did Peter realise he didn’t have a place to stay.  He had spent the whole day as Damian’s tour guide, paid with food, and as a result, hadn’t made any progress on getting home.  Now the sun was setting, and Peter couldn’t crash on top of a skyscraper to get some sleep.  He still had Damian with him. 

“Maybe you should…,” Peter hesitated as he looked towards Damian, once again sitting in a park in Queens, “contact your parents, it’s getting late and I can’t really bring you home with me.”

“Why not?”

“...” Peter tried to think of an excuse that wouldn’t hurt Damian’s feelings, “I’m not allowed to bring strangers home.”

Damian stayed silent as he looked Peter over, Damian knew he was lying and he wasn’t about to lose Peter again, not after all the progress they had made.  He took out his phone and turned it on.  As his phone started back up, the notifications pinged relentlessly as all the missed calls and text messages finally went through.  Peter sat there, watching him type on his phone, assuming Damian was taking his advice and was texting his family to pick him up.  Damian slipped his phone into his pocket and took Peter’s hand and the two left the park.  Peter allowed Damian to lead him through the Subway, actually paying for the fare this time despite Peter’s comment that the Subway was free if you could jump, and into the lobby of a fancy looking hotel.  

“Is your dad picking you up here?” 

“No.”

Peter was confused, hand still held by Damian as they walked to the front desk. 

“Reservation for Damian Wayne.” Damian stated confidently.

The receptionist glanced up from her computer and had to peer down at the two.  She looked around the lobby and back down to them.  Peter didn’t look at her, too busy trying to remember where he heard the name ‘Wayne’ before.

“Are your parents with you?"

“I don’t see how that’s necessary, the reservation has been paid for.” Damian huffed, “If you’d just check your computer; you’ll find it. 

Peter stood there awkwardly as Damian seemed ready to jump over the desk at the woman who was simply doing her job.  Minors can’t check into hotels alone, Peter knew that, he’s watched Home Alone 2.  Obviously Damian has not.

“I’m sorry but I’m not allowed to check in minors without a guardian above the age of 18 with them.” the woman said softly, trying to soften the blow to the angry kid in front of her, “If you’d like, you can wait in the lobby until your parent’s show up. I can even put your bags behind the counter for you.”

Damian was about to continue arguing, if not for Peter tugging him away from the receptionist.  Peter pulled Damian towards the couch near the front entrance, and turned to Damian.

“You can’t check in if you're underage, you gotta get your dad to call up and tell them he’s running late.” Peter explains, “It’s like a legal thing.”

Peter thought this would be the kicker to send Damian home, or at the very least, let his family know where he is.  Damian's stunt at running away should end here, Peter Parker wasn’t going to be complicit in a nationwide Amber Alert.

“Tt” Damian stood up and headed to the lobby entrance leaving his duffel bag with Peter, “Wait here.”

When Damian left, Peter looked towards the receptionist and the small bowl of chocolates beside her.  She was tired, obviously nearing the end of her shift as she kept glancing at the clock behind her.  He felt bad that Damian was giving her a hard time when her shift was nearly over.  He left his bag beside Damian’s on the couch and walked up to the lady.

“I’m Peter!” he said, giving his best impression of child-like innocence, as he pointed to the bowl of chocolates, “Can I have one of those please?”

“Sure,” the woman said as she picked up the bowl and lowered it down to him, “You better not be one of those kids that's not allowed sugar, I don’t want to be yelled at by your parents.”

“I’m allowed,” Peter replied happily, as he grabbed a small handful, the lady being too tired to care as Peter shoved the chocolate in his pockets, “What’s your name?”

“Ruben,” she said, placing the bowl back on the counter, “I’m not going to let you check in just cause you're sweet.”

“Not as sweet as you!” Peter chirped back, as the lady rolled her eyes but smiled at him.

It wasn’t long before Damian stormed back in. Peter watched as he tensed, seeing Peter gone from where he had left him, but quickly spotting him at the reception and making his way over. 

“Father’s in a meeting, he won’t be back until late.” Damian told the receptionist, “He said he’ll contact your manager about letting us check in without him.”

“Well, until my manager tells me, I can’t let you check in,” Ruben told him. “It is policy after all.”

“Tt” Damian grabbed Peter’s hand and led him back to the coaches.  Crossing his arms, and glaring at the ground in front of him. Peter grabbed one of the chocolates he had stashed in his pockets, and handed it to him.  Damian didn’t eat it but muttered a ‘thanks’ as he put it in his duffel bag.

“So is your dad really at a business meeting? I thought he was in Gotham?”

“He can be in both.”

“Fair enough,” Peter would leave before Damian’s dad showed up. He would make sure Damian got to the hotel room, and then he’d slip out. He looks back at the receptionist and gives her a wave which she returned as she talked on the phone to someone.  He hoped the receptionist wouldn’t stop him from leaving later. “So when’s he coming?”

“I told him not to.” Damian grumbled.

“Yeah, but when’s he coming?”

“...” 

“We should order takeaway. You think reception would bring it to the room or would we have to wait down here for the driver to show up?”  Peter asked.  Damian was rich if he could afford a hotel as fancy as this, looking up at the chandelier in the lobby, it was definitely one of those five star hotels.  Peter’s never stayed at a five star hotel before. 

“They’d bring it up.” Damian looked towards Peter’s again and glanced down at his shoes, “Where’s your shoelace?”

“I needed a belt” Peter dismissed, he reckons Damian has never had to use a shoelace as a belt before, he probably had a 100 belts at home and clothes that fit him perfectly, not having to wear donated clothes that he could 'grow into' like Peter.

“Why not just buy a belt.”

“And waste money when I have two perfectly good shoelaces instead?”

He looks towards the receptionist as she waves the two boys over, still talking to someone on the phone.  Damian stands up and grabs both their bags, slinging them over his shoulder as Peter follows him to the front desk.  

“Just one second-” she says into the phone and hands the phone to Damian, “It’s your Dad, he needs to confirm it’s you two first before I can give you the key.”

Peter could see how upset Damian was at the whole ideal as he put the phone to his ear.

“Hello Father,” Peter tilted his head as his father greeted him back over the phone.  He could hear the person clearly, an accent and annunciation that screamed wealth, and also something else.  Something that had Peter fidgeting with his hands and eyeing his bag over Damian’s shoulder; it couldn’t be Batman could it?  No. Batman had a much rougher voice, like he was gurgling gravel, he would never joke on the phone so light-heartedly about his kids running away.  “I’m with Peter, so it would be best if you hurried this process up.”

Damian shoves the phone back to the receptionist, who sighed as she placed the phone back to her ear.  He could hear Damian’s father confirm that they were both his kids and that his work was keeping him overnight.  Damian’s father and the receptionist were still talking as she handed Damian a room key, which Damian snatched before storming towards the elevator, still with Peter’s bag over his shoulder.  Peter chased after them and gave the lady at the desk a wave as he joined Damian in the elevator. He tried to listen into the conversation as long as possible, he could hear him give the receptionist a card to charge any room service fees too, and asked to reserve another double room for the following night before Peter had gotten too far to listen in any further.  

It couldn’t actually be Batman could it?

Getting to the room, Damian kept Peter’s bag on his shoulder as he inspected the room and checked the bathroom before nudging Peter inside.

“Shower. You smell.” Peter looked at Damian shocked. He didn’t actually smell did he? I mean it has been a couple days since he showered and he had spent the majority of last night in a literal sewer. Okay, maybe he did smell. Damian dropped their bags on one of the beds, before unzipping his own, he pulled out a pair of tracksuit pants and a plain black t-shirt and put them in Peter’s hands before shoving him into the bathroom, shutting the door.

Peter stood, half-dazed, as he stared at the bathroom door before placing the folded clothes on the ridiculously large counter. Peter emptied his pockets, the medicine he stole from Batman for his chemical burns, the loose change, and a pile of chocolates. That, coupled with Ned’s ruined hoodie in his bag, was all Peter had.  He has made no progress in getting home or even surviving in this universe. He had to make progress tomorrow.  Before Damian’s scarily familiar sounding Dad showed up. Damian’s dad who claimed Peter was his kid to the receptionist.  Getting undressed and hoping in the shower, Peter dwelled on that last fact.  Was this a common occurrence for Damian, enough that his father just claimed the parentage of whatever kid Damian had picked up while he ran away? Then again, Damian stated he was with Peter, as if that name would mean something to him.  Peter really hoped it wasn’t Batman. 

Peter was careful not to irritate the almost closed wound as he washed himself. It was no longer at risk of reopening but it still hurt. Less than an inch deep, but Peter could still see the healing muscles twitch with every movement. It should be nothing more than an angry scab by the morning, especially if Damian got the hint and ordered delivery.  Getting out of the shower, Peter got dressed in the clothes Damian gave him, and looked at himself in the mirror.  The chemical burns around his mouth had healed into a slight discoloration, but he could still feel the irritated skin inside his mouth and throat.  Picking up the medicine, he looks over the ingredients; antiseptics with a numbing agent.  There was also a warning label, ‘Keep Out Of Reach Of Children’, ‘Not Safe For Consumption’.  Peter shrugged; those didn’t apply to him and he really wanted that numbing agent.  His throat still hurts after all. 

Uncapping the bottle, Peter titled his head back and drank.  

It wasn’t long before Peter was gripping the edge of the toilet seat and throwing up with a concerned Damian knocking at the door. 

“I’m-Kay” Peter mumbled out, hoping it was enough to keep Damian out but as he puked out another chunk of the food he ate that day, followed by a series of coughs; Damian let himself in. 

“Wha-” Damian stopped as spotted the uncapped antiseptic sitting on the counter and looked back over to Peter hunched over the toilet. “Tt”

Damian grabbed the bottle, looked it over, before screwing the lid back on. 

“I ordered room service, there’s food on the desk.” Peter slowly stood back up, having expelled the rest of the antiseptic burning his stomach, and washed the spit from his face in the sink. He didn’t want to look at Damian, he was too embarrassed.

“Can I have my medicine back?” Peter asked sheepishly as he stepped out of the bathroom, not turning around to see Damian’s disapproving look. 

“No.” Damian stepped past Peter, put the medicine in his duffel bag, before re-entering the bathroom with his bag on his shoulder. “It says Keep Out Of Reach Of Children.”

“But you’re also childre-” Peter was cut off as Damian slammed the door. Peter sighed before sitting down at the desk to eat the food. He could hear the shower turn on, and he could feel the mild numbing of his mouth and throat as the numbing agent kicked in.  It wouldn’t last long, his metabolism would make quick work of it, Peter finished most of the food before hopping on one of the beds.  The medicine did make him throw up, but it also helped relieve the pain.  Enough for him to get some sleep.  Just a quick nap, Damian would probably wake him when he came out of the shower, even if he didn’t, he was sure he would wake up before Damian’s dad showed up.  ‘Just a quick nap’ Peter told himself as he fell asleep listening to the white noise of the shower.

Peter woke up to knocking at the door.  Groggily, he sat up, a blanket that Damian must have placed over him pooled around his waist as he wiped the sleep out from his eyes. It wasn’t a quick nap, Peter thought bitterly as the bright midday sun filtered in through the drawn curtains.  Damian was standing in front of the door glaring at it as if the knocking would stop if he glared hard enough.

“Is that your Dad?” Peter asked, praying it was in fact not his Dad that may or may not be Batman. 

“No, it’s not. Go back to sleep.”

There was another knock and Peter climbed off the bed.  

“Who is it then?”

“...I don’t know,” Damian muttered, still standing at the door like a guard dog, all that was missing was the barking. 

“Room service?”

“No. I put the Do Not Disturb sign up.”

There was another knock.

“Shouldn’t you answer it?”

“You shouldn’t open doors to strangers Peter.”

“I’m not a stranger!” a child's voice came from the other side of the door causing Damian to bristle with anger. “Let me in!”

Damian yanked the door open.

“What are you doing here Kent?” Damian hissed.

The kid looked around Damian’s age, a slight tan, blue eyes, and black hair. He pushed past Damian and practically skipped with excitement as he entered the room making his way to Peter.

“I’m Jon, Damian’s best friend.”

“You are not my best friend,” Damian shoved his way between Peter and Jon, “I’ll ask again Kent; why are you here?”

“Don’t be like that Damian,” an older man, obviously Jon’s father due to the physical similarities, stepped into the room.  Whoever this guy was had Peter’s senses flaring in warning. “I was in town and your father recommended this place.”

“You must be Peter.”

“How do you know my name?”