Chapter 4
Can’t breathe
The air was suffocating
The shadows of the city loomed over Peter. He passed multiple small stores, some with broken windows, others with druggies outside. All of them had torn clothes and their eyes were bloodshot. Their gazes were like a vulture waiting to strike at any moment.
Ever since he fell the only thing he has been doing was running not even one break.
His mind flashed back to the kid in some hero costume, his limp body and his chest rising and falling slowly.
What scared him the most was the other kid in the red suit and black cape who seemed slightly younger than himself.
Peter could recall no memory of what even happened with him but whatever he did left the kid in horrible shape.
And you did that
Seriously, right now was not the best time to be conscious about his actions
“Peter? Peter please respond your heart rate is high”
Peter reluctantly slowed down
When did it begin to rain?
He was soaked and now that he was conscious about it he started trembling from the cold air wrapping around him.
Great, now where am I?
His eyes scanned the area, but if he was lost in the beginning he was even more lost now.
“Hey Karen sorry, did…did you find any information?”
He managed to say through chattering teeth
“Yes Peter, the people who were chasing after you seem to be a form of heroes ”
“wow..so now I have heroes after me huh?
He muttered dryly before coughing
“So…you also know where we are now?”
His brown curly hair stuck to his face from how wet it had become, his clothes and shoes were soaked.
His eyesight was going hazy and his temperature was dropping quickly.
The sky grew darker than it already was, Peter was able to see small lights in the old shops as they flickered
The rain poured harder and lightning crackled through the air.
Peter was tired, every step he took brought him to the edge of collapsing
“It seems we are in a place called Gotham Peter”
“Where?”
“New Jersey”
Peters heartbeat was accelerating
He clutched his hoodie, navigating blindly through the now foggy streets of what now he knows is Gotham.
“Wait..New Jersey?!”
If only the suit worked I could go back to queens
So he wasn’t far just teleported to a what? 19 hour travel on foot? Not too bad
As he turned a corner his senses heightened
He could feel and see everything but the feeling part wasn’t helpful with the cold
Through the fog he could see a group of people huddled in a corner with knives
Yeahhh no
“Peter there seems to be a building with no one inside nearby, would you like me to guide you?”
Karen said helpfully through the headphone
“Thought you would never ask”
Well this is sad
Peter stared tired at the building
The color was a disturbing shade of dark red with some broken windows
Nothing very surprising or different from the other buildings he had seen
Seriously what is it with this place and the gothic theme? Gotham? Goth?
Whatever come on Peter…You can do this
He forced his body to keep moving towards the building.
Peter stumbled through through doors his eyes adjusting to the darkness
The building had been abandoned for a long time. Dust floated in the air, disturbed by his movements. Old furniture covered in tattered sheets sat lifelessly in the corners, and the air smelled stale, like mold and neglect. He coughed, shivering as water dripped from his clothes onto the wooden floor.
He needed warmth. Now.
Dragging his feet, Peter moved deeper inside, searching for anything to dry himself off. He spotted an old couch, its fabric torn but still intact enough to sit on. With a heavy sigh, he collapsed onto it, letting his body sink into the cushions.
His head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion weighed down on him. He listened to the distant sound of rain hitting the broken windows, the occasional rumble of thunder vibrating through the walls.
This wasn’t home. But for now, it would have to do.
At some point, Peter must have dozed off. He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep, but when he stirred, the storm outside had calmed, the pattering of rain now soft against the glass. His body ached from the awkward position he had slept in, but at least he wasn’t shivering as much anymore.
A dull light filtered through the cracks in the boarded-up windows.
“Morning”.
Karen's voice chimed in softly.
“Peter, your vitals are stable, but you are still showing signs of exhaustion. I recommend food and proper shelter.”
Peter groaned as he forced his heavy eyelids open.
“Yeah, well, if you see a five-star hotel that doesn’t look like a haunted house, let me know,” he muttered.
“Peter, you have been unconscious for three days.”
Peter shot up, heart racing.
“Three days?!” he blurted out, rubbing his face.
No wonder he felt even more drained. His stomach twisted with hunger, a deep ache in his core reminding him of how long he had gone without food.
After some effort, he managed to scavenge a change of clothes from a drying rack nearby—a gray hoodie that fit a little big and some baggy jeans. His shoes, miraculously, had stayed intact. The hoodie was warm enough, but it did little to help the nagging exhaustion still hanging over him.
After ensuring his clothes hid his suit underneath and that he had Karen with him he finally left the temporary safe haven.
Walking down the concrete street made Peter feel even more awkward.
The sky above was dark, clouds painted in heavy shades of gray. The sun peeked out occasionally but always disappeared just as quickly. If Karen hadn’t told him it was morning, he wouldn’t have believed it.
As he passed a store, he caught his reflection in the window.
His face was pale, dark circles hanging under his eyes like heavy weights. His curly hair was messier than usual, flattened from sleeping in strange positions. The hoodie hung loosely off his frame, making him look smaller than he felt.
“Yikes,” Peter muttered under his breath.
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to fix it, but it didn’t help much. He sighed and turned away from the glass, focusing back on the task at hand.
Food.
He needed to find something to eat before his body gave out on him again.
“Karen, got any suggestions for where I can grab something to eat that doesn’t involve me stealing?” he asked, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pocket.
“There is a soup kitchen a few blocks from here. It appears to be open to the public and does not require identification.”
Peter perked up slightly at that.
“Alright, lead the way.”
With newfound purpose, he started walking, his tired legs carrying him deeper into Gotham’s unforgiving streets.