Chapter 7
The night at the shelter had given Peter the pause he desperately needed—a moment to breathe and reflect. Sure, his nightmare had left him with dread hanging over him, but really, what was Spider-Man’s life without a little doom lurking in the corner? That was just the Parker luck.
As Peter walked the streets of Gotham, he took in the city’s stark contrasts—the crumbling buildings, the dim streetlights barely cutting through the haze, and the people, worn down but unyielding. Beneath the grime, he could feel it: hope. Resilience. Gotham was a place that had been dragged through the dirt and somehow managed to rise again. If this city could rebuild itself, so could he. He’d miss New York, its familiar streets, its skyline, the places that had been home, and the faces that had shaped his life. But that chapter was closed. It was time to turn the page. Gotham wasn’t just a new city; it was a new beginning.
Peter paused at an intersection where Christmas lights adorned the lampposts, their soft glow cutting through the darkness. They were imperfect, some bulbs flickering, others broken, but still they shone. That, Peter thought, was Gotham in a nutshell.
He took a deep breath, letting the crisp winter air fill his lungs. He’d keep going. He’d build something new. He’d do it for May, for Ben, for Tony, and most importantly, for himself. With nothing but a torn up spider suit hidden in an alley, the time stone, and a toiletry kit, Peter headed further into his new home, determined not just to survive but to live.
***
Peter Parker went from being a nobody to a somebody in less than two weeks, and it was setting off every alarm bell in Tim’s mind. When he first started looking into the kid, there was nothing. No digital footprint, no school records, not even an old social media account. Then, almost overnight, Peter Parker existed.
Tim had made enough fake identities to recognize one when he saw it, but he had to admit, Peter’s was impressive. It even included a guardian: Tony Stark, a billionaire out of New York who seemed entirely legitimate, aside from the fact that neither he nor Bruce had ever heard of the man. The whole ward of a billionaire angle struck an unsettling chord, uncomfortably reminiscent of Dick’s backstory.
Leaning against the edge of a rooftop, Tim trained his binoculars on Peter as he navigated the crowded streets below. At first glance, the kid seemed unremarkable—hoodie too big, sneakers falling apart, moving through Gotham like any other young adult trying to stay invisible. But Tim’s gut told him there was more to Peter than met the eye.
Peter moved with a precision that didn’t make sense. He knew how to navigate the city like he’d lived there for years, effortlessly avoiding potential trouble. It wasn’t just street smarts; it was like Peter could anticipate danger before it happened.
And then there was his strength—subtle but unmistakable. Tim had watched as Peter helped an elderly woman with her groceries, effortlessly hoisting multiple heavy cases of water that should have been a challenge for someone his build. His mind churned with theories. Was Peter a clone? A genetic experiment? A sleeper agent for the Court of Owls? The Court had been unusually active lately, with rogue Talons popping up in areas that seemed suspiciously close to Peter’s movements. Could he be part of their Gray Son prophecy—a replacement for the Talon they’d once hoped Dick would become?
The timing was too perfect. Peter’s sudden appearance coincided with the emergence of new, dangerous figures in Gotham’s underworld—operatives with no past and skills that rivaled seasoned assassins. If Peter wasn’t directly tied to them, he could still be a pawn in whatever game the Court was playing.
Tim’s jaw tightened as Peter slipped into an alley, vanishing from sight. He needed answers, and he needed them soon. He couldn’t let the Court manipulate another innocent—or worse, unleash a new weapon on Gotham.
Tim’s comm crackled to life, Barbara’s voice breaking his concentration.
“Tim, you’ve been quiet. What’s going on?”
Tim straightened, his gaze still fixed on the alley. “I’ve been tracking Peter Parker.”
There was a pause before Barbara replied, her tone carefully measured. “What have you found?”
“There’s something off about him, Babs,” Tim admitted. “The way he moves, the way he reacts—it’s not normal. And his timing? Showing up just as all these new players hit Gotham? It’s too much of a coincidence.”
Barbara’s sigh crackled through the comms. “You think he’s connected to the Court of Owls?”
“I’m not ruling it out,” Tim said, his voice grim. “He’s either in their sights or already working for them. Either way, I need to know.”
Barbara’s tone softened. “Tim, be careful. If he’s dangerous, you could push him too far.”
Tim ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily. “I’ll be careful. Have you told Dick yet?”
“Not yet,” Barbara admitted. “I was hoping you’d find something concrete first. I don’t want to drop this on him until we know more.”
“Dick’s going to find out eventually,” Tim warned. “Better it comes from us than through the grapevine.”
“I know,” Barbara replied, a hint of frustration in her voice. “But we still don’t know what Peter is—who he is. Jumping to conclusions could do more harm than good.”
Tim’s eyes flicked back to the empty alley, his resolve hardening. “That’s why I need to meet him. If there’s one thing Gotham’s taught me, it’s that things are never as simple as they seem.”
Tomorrow, Peter Parker was going to meet Tim Drake—whether he wanted to or not.