End of Week One
Tim Drake was Not Having a Good Time. He couldn’t find anything on this kid! Neither could Babs, or Bruce, or anyone! He just wasn’t there one day and the next was walking into the library! Not to mention the suspiciously timed arrival of Spider-Man…
Their voices certainly sounded similar, but Tim was wary of mixing correlation and causation, like any good scientist and detective. Plus, Peter seemed so intent on staying out of the limelight as much as possible, while Spider-Man had no problem showing up in a city where Bruce had made it very clear that meta’s weren’t welcome. So, without genuine evidence, Tim wasn’t going to say the two were the same. There were 2.5 million people in Gotham, one random kid does not a vigilante make.
Tim took another frantic chug of his coffee, startling at the knock at his door. “Tim, it’s been two days. You need sleep.”
“Not now, Steph!” he snapped, impatient with her and with himself and his lack of progress.
“Fine,” Steph hummed. “Guess I’ll just go back to the Iceberg restaurant all on my lonesome. I guess I’ll tell Peter that you say hi. He’ll be so sad that you didn’t tag along.”
That got Tim out of his chair. He threw open the door to a smirking Steph. She snorted. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. However, I refuse to go with someone who hasn’t slept or showered in 48 hours. Take a nice, long shower, then get some sleep, then we’ll go back to the restaurant. Capiche?”
Tim nodded grumpily. “Fine.”
“Good detective. Come on, grumpy-pants. I have an outfit picked out for tomorrow and everything. I can guarantee Peter’s lack of information will still be there after dinner at the Iceberg tomorrow.”
It would be August in just a couple of days. That meant school, and Peter wanted to go to school. He figured that would be as good a place as any to have access to a lab, and to learn this world’s history. So, off to the library he went. Time to forge some documents.
“Hello, Miss Barbara! Thanks for the books!”
She smiled her familiar, warm smile. “Of course, Peter. That’s what they’re there for, after all.”
“I’ll never stop saying thank you, regardless.”
Barbara shook her head fondly, and Peter made his way over to the computers. Ok, first step, birth certificate. Luckily he had this memorized, and hacking into the government was concerningly easy. Like, they had next to nothing protecting it. Whatever. Next, parents' birth and death certificates and aunt and uncle’s birth and death certificates. He didn’t tear up while writing May’s, definitely not. Okay, that was done. Social security number? Done. Now, what school to go to… Gotham Academy. Sure, why not. Definitely for the proficient teachers and lab equipment (he still wasn’t sure whether he wanted to rely on his new natural webbing or not, and he was just about out). Yep. It was solely for that reason, and definitely not because a certain Tim Drake attended. Peter was above going out of his way for cute boys. So above it it was crazy.
Okay, and then… scholarships. Rich people schools have to have a scholarship, right? They need to make it look like they care about the little guy, even if it’s a ton of bullshit and everyone knows it. Yep, there it is. Wayne Scholarship. Perfect. Placement tests were next week. Peter put in his name for the placement test, and bada bing bada boom he was in. That was easy, and it only took… shit, Peter had been here for three hours.
Peter dashed out the library waving goodbye at Barbara and bolting towards his little radioactive home. He didn’t even bother climbing up the wall, he just straight up jumped through the window. Easy as pie. Or something.
Peter just barely made it to his shift in time, earning an eyebrow raise from Bruno and a smirk from Aaron. Those two could shut it. It’s not like the owner of the restaurant was going to be there today or something.
Peter smoothed his frazzled hair and rumpled apron, and made his way to his tables. Within five minutes, the restaurant was full with the dinner rush, and low and behold, who should show up but Timothy Drake and Stephanie Brown. Huh, the food must have been really good if they came back this quickly. And at another one of his tables, the one right next to theirs, was Oswald Cobblepot himself. Fuck, Peter just had to say something, didn’t he?
Tim was slightly less of a tomato this time, Peter was proud of him. And a little flustered at just how well he had dressed up this time. Like, damn son. Whatever, nope, Peter had a job to focus on, like getting information from— he meant serving the crime lord. Peter shook his head, focusing on the task at hand. Right. Focusing now.
While Peter didn’t hear as much as he would have liked from Cobblepot’s conversation, he did still get a fair amount. They were going to try and move in on Black Mask’s territory. Apparently this one street of Crime Alley was prime territory that he just had to have. Peter tucked the bits and pieces away to share later and focused on the celebrities as well. Tim was a bit smoother this time around him, and Peter was as well.
“Where are you going to be attending school?” Tim asked.
“I’m trying out for the Wayne Scholarship at Gotham Academy. How about yourself?” As if Peter didn’t know already.
“Likewise! Though I don’t necessarily need the scholarship.”
“Right. Um, will that be everything for you two tonight?”
“Yep, that’s it, Peter, thank you very much.”
“You’re very welcome, Miss Stephanie.”
“Call me Steph, especially if we’re going to be going to school together.”
Peter beamed. He was actually kind of looking forward to it? “Of course, Steph. I’d be delighted to see the two of you there.”
“Likewise, and I know Tim will definitely be excited to see you.”
Peter ignored the insinuation and got them their check. Cobblepot left afterwards, and then Peter was serving a group of Black Masks. Holy fucking shit they just walked into Cobblepot’s turf like they owned the place what the fuck.
Peter blanked his expression and began getting their drinks. All these rogues, it really made a guy think. He hasn’t seen Harley and Pam in a bit. Maybe he should go see them…
“Peter!” Harley cheered. “How ya doin’, kiddo?”
She squeezed Peter into a wonderful hug (how long has it been since he’s had a hug?) and ruffled his hair, cooing at him. “So, did ya get a job? Where ya working? How are ya doing? Have ya found a school for the fall yet?”
Peter giggled. “Well, I got a job at the new Iceberg restaurant, I’m doing alright, and I’m taking the entrance exam for Gotham Academy tomorrow!”
“And how’s Spidey doin’?”
Peter froze. “Huh?”
“Come on, Petey-pie! You mentioned you might be a bit more spider-y than others, and then a ‘Spider-Man’ shows up. I have a doctorate, remember?”
Yeah, Peter should have been a bit more careful with that but what was done was done. “Yeah, he’s doing fine. People are slow to trust, but they’re coming around.”
“Oh, good! If you ever need someplace to go to get patched up, we’re right here.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good.”
“Got anything for me, kid?” Hood sat down next to Peter, offering him a bag with something that smelled amazing inside.
Peter relayed what he had heard about the Penguin trying to move in on some of Black Mask’s territory tonight in-between bites of this fucking amazing burger. “Where did you get this?” Peter asked, muffled.
“Bat Burger. They’ve got pretty good stuff, huh?”
Peter nodded and managed to fit even more into his mouth. Hearing a click, Peter looked to see Red Hood about to take his helmet off. “Whoa! Dude!” Peter exclaimed, averting his eyes and swallowing. “Warn a guy, would you?”
“What? Oh, Pete, I’ve got a domino mask on, chill out.”
Peter blinked, looking to see a face with a really nice bone structure. “Oh. Heh, sorry.”
Red Hood leaned in all of a sudden, staring at Peter intently. “Do I have something on my face?” Peter asked, darting his eyes between Red Hood and anything else.
“No, it’s just… kid, you’ve got some weird teeth there.”
“I do?” Peter pressed the pad of his thumb against his teeth, surprised when something pricked it and started bleeding. “Huh, that’s weird.”
Red Hood didn’t remark on it further, so Peter didn’t have to think too hard about it. Thank god. “Alright, kid, I’ve got to get going for the night. Thanks for the tip. We’ll try to keep that area clear to avoid anyone getting caught up in the shoot out. Stay safe, yeah?”
Peter nodded, and Red Hood was gone.