A Heavy Talk
“So he’s friends with Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy?” Kory asked, floating over to sit beside Dick.
“Yeah!” Dick exclaimed. “Apparently they think they were the first people he talked to in Gotham. They said that he needed to store his bag with them until he found another place, and then he did. And they’ve been talking to him and seeing him semi-regularly ever since.”
“The first people to talk to him here, huh? The alien theory you and your brothers have formed seems to be getting more and more likely…”
“Right? It’s like he’s doing the bare minimum to hide it or something!”
“Huh. So, did Bruce say how his talk with him went?”
“Peter referenced something Bruce had no clue about, which doesn’t tell us anything really. The guy is like a rock when it comes to pop culture, not very absorbent. Anyways, apparently Peter also mentioned a guy named ‘Tony’ and he got pretty depressed and defensive immediately afterwards. So we’re thinking he might have been someone Peter knew back home. Someone who didn’t have a good ending…”
“And when Bruce asked about his home planet?”
“Apparently Peter wasn’t very impressed and basically told him to get good.”
“That’s going to be something Bruce will not be able to let go… he is like you in that way. You and Timothy.”
“What?! I don’t get obsessive!”
Kory stared at Dick, a single eyebrow lifted.
“Okay so maybe I can get obsessed with things,” Dick relented. “But I’m not that bad, right? Not like Tim levels of bad!”
“Not anymore, you don’t.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”
Kory hummed and floated off to do something else, leaving a sputtering man in her wake.
First day jitters, May had called them. And boy, was Peter feeling the jitters. The building was just as gothic as the city it was named after, and it was kinda terrifying. Not kinda. Really terrifying.
“Pete! Over here!” Peter turned to see Tim waving his arms frantically. Peter grinned and jogged over to them, letting Steph wrap him in a big hug, picking him off the ground and swinging him from side to side. His mind unwillingly flashed to Uncle Ben and a different time in a different world where he was so small and weird radioactive spiders hadn’t even crossed his mind and no god don’t tear up, Parker, keep it together—
“You good, Pete?” Tim asked.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” Peter brushed himself off, mental feet firmly back on the ground. He adjusted his thrifted backpack carefully, staring up at the foreboding building in front of him. “Just thinking. This place is batshit crazy. You guys just… go here? Like, yearly?”
“Yeah, it’s kinda weird, but that’s Gotham for you,” a new voice (was it new?) remarked. Peter turned to see a dark-skinned kid with a close-cut haircut walking towards them. He smelled familiar, like Red Robin smelled familiar… “Hey guys! Who’s the newbie?”
“Pete, meet Duke. Duke, this is Peter Parker, the one we mentioned.”
Why had they been talking about Peter?
Peter smiled and held out his hand. This guy’s body language was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place where he had seen it before. “Hey, man. It’s nice to meet you. How long have the three of you been friends?”
Steph glanced at the three men standing around her and shrugged. “I’ve been friends with Timmy here for a while, and we’ve been friends with Duke for about a year or so.”
“What class do you have first, Peter?” Tim asked. “Chemistry, right?”
Peter narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
“Meh, lucky guess.” There was no way that had been a lucky guess. Or maybe Peter was just a bit paranoid.
“Well, let’s get going.”
Classes were standard fare. As expected, the rich kids were not happy to see Peter in his too long hair (he needed to ask Dr. Quinn to help with that the next time he saw her and Pam) and his raggedy shoes and his above average intellect. But, it was fine, because he had Tim, no matter how suspicious Tim was acting.
Professor Milo was weird, who had a bowl cut in this day and age? He was also a bit creepy, but Peter was kinda used to science nerds being creepy and a little deranged. A little too used to it, if he was being honest.
History was surprisingly cool, with Professor Macpherson being ridiculously understanding of Peter's lack of knowledge in anything historical. (After class when he had asked about it, all she said in a knowing Scottish brogue was that she knew what it was like to be the new kid. Peter took her word for it.)
English was with a weird guy named Mr. Scarlet. He was weird. There wasn’t much else to say about him. (Peter wondered why nearly all of his teachers sent a buzz of dangerdangerdanger throughout him, but it was Gotham, and that was explanation enough.)
So, lunch was in a big, grand, spooky hall. Peter dove into his tray stacked high with pizza, asking around a mouthful of food, “Do all of our teachers feel like rogues to you guys?”
Tim beamed at him, cackling triumphantly. “Yes! Yes they do! And Duke and Steph say I’m being paranoid!”
“Or,” Steph argued, “they all feel like that ‘cause it’s Gotham and this is a very creepy school.”
Duke watched with amusement, quietly munching on his pizza. “Just be lucky you don’t have to live in the dorms. You think it’s creepy here during the daytime? Just wait till you see this place at night!”
Peter shuddered. “Yeah, I think I’m good. Anyways, anything new with you guys?”
“Nothing really. We’re all a little stressed with the Scarecrow breaking out and all, but beyond that, not much,” Steph mused.
“Don’t forget about Spider-Man,” Duke chimed in. “Dude’s apparently got Batman going nuts.”
“I thought Batman didn’t talk to the press?” Peter asked. “How would you know?”
Duke shrugged, the action once again tugging at something in Peter’s memory. “He’s obviously a meta, and Batman isn’t exactly a fan of meta’s.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” Tim argued. “That rule is mainly there so the rest of the JL don’t come and try to ‘fix’ Gotham.”
“Okay, okay, let me see if I’ve got it,” Peter smiled conspiratorially. “Gotham’s like a weird, spooky uncle. The JL is like the rest of the concerned family and are trying to recommend therapists to ‘fix’ the guy, but he doesn’t need ‘fixing.’ Help, sure. But it’s the weird, spooky uncle. Did I get it?”
“That's a pretty specific example. Know someone like that?” Tim asked.
Peter's heart ached as he thought of Wade, and he made a so-so gesture. "Something like that."
“And that was school,” Peter finished, tossing a pretzel into his mouth.
Pam and Harley nodded. “Yeah, Gotham’s a weird place.”
“I’m happy you found friends so quickly, little one. I’ll admit, I was a bit worried with how different you are. Some of those children can smell the otherness, I swear,” Pam remarked.
“No joke there, love!” Harley agreed. “But! Somehow you became friends with not one, but three of Bruce Wayne’s adopted children!”
Peter blinked. “They’re Bruce’s adopted kids?”
“Yep! If the guy were a dragon, kids would be his hoard. He’s nuts like that, I swear.”
So they were foster siblings of a kind. Interesting. Kinda like how Batman had a bunch of young people clad in tight kevlar running around and oh! Oh! That was where he knew Duke from! “You good over there, Petey-pie?” Harley asked.
“Yeah I think I just figured out the Bats’ secret identities, that’s all.”
Harley beamed and clapped him on the shoulder! “Nice going, Petey! I swear, once you get to know the Bats in costume and out of costume it’s pretty obvious! And you haven’t been around for long enough to buy into the whole ‘Brucie Wayne’ persona!”
“You knew?”
“Well sure I do. I’ve known for a while.”
“How did you find out?”
“I don’t remember.”
“That’s a copout and you know it.”
“Whatever ya say, Petey!”
Patrol was nice, easy even. He had helped a kid find his way home, helped a guy named Bob move a new fridge in (Bob was apparently very happy with the way Peter had handled it, apparently the last guys did a terrible job and ended up breaking the fridge altogether), stopped a bank robbery before it even began, stopped a couple of muggings, good stuff.
So now, he sat on his rooftop, staring at the just barely visible moon. He had changed out of his suit and into normal people clothes, and here he sat. Sure enough, a costumed presence joined him on the roof in no time, but this was one he hadn’t seen before. Black Bat, his memory informed him, stepped out of the shadows and sat next to Peter. “It’s pretty tonight, isn’t it?” Peter asked.
She nodded. A minute passed in silence, then, “You know, don’t you?”
“If you’re asking about identities, yeah, I do. You probably know mine, right?”
“Yes. The others suspect, but nothing more.”
“Will you tell them?”
She smirked and giggled. “Nah.”
“Hell yeah. I wanna see how long it will take them to fully figure it out. How was patrol?”
“Quiet. Something will happen soon. Don’t know what though.”
“Me neither, but I know that you’re right. It feels too quiet for Gotham.”
She hummed in agreement. Peter cleared his throat awkwardly. “I uh. Looked up the whole Wayne family after I figured it out. You’re Cassandra, right?”
“Cass.”
“I’ve seen videos of you doing ballet. You’re really good, like really good.”
She smiled softly, and Peter’s face heated up against his will. “Do you think you could show me some moves sometime? Ballet or otherwise?”
Cass nodded. “Show you the cave sometime?”
“Yeah I’d like that.”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.” Peter sighed and looked up. If he squinted really hard, he could almost see a star or two.
“So, Spider-Man, huh?” Red Hood asked, sitting down next to Peter. He handed Peter a familiar paper bag, which Peter immediately dug into ravenously. He finally had access to two square meals a day (three, if he was lucky!) and yet he was still starving. It was almost like he was a superhuman who needed twice the daily calories of a normal one. Peter shushed that part of his brain. He had to focus, Mr. Red Hood just asked him a question.
“What about him?” Peter replied.
“I think I might have figured out who he is.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Figured you might be able to help with that.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Peter said obstinately.
Red Hood snorted. “Right. Well, maybe this will help jog your memory.”
The man took off his weird red helmet, and to Peter’s surprise, instead of the white of a domino mask, Peter was met with vibrant green eyes and a raised eyebrow. “The name’s Jason, kid. Jason Todd.”
Something told Peter he could trust Jason. Peter was torn, wanting so desperately to confide in someone, to have a true friend again, one that could survive a while instead of just dying like everyone else Peter knew and cared for. But another part of Peter was reminded vividly of the last couple times he had trusted someone, let someone get close to him. Let a mask get close to him. Images of Quentin Beck and Mr. Osborn and Dr. Octavius and Mr. Dillon and fuck this was a bad idea but Peter was so tired . And it wasn’t like he had anyone left to lose, right? Tim had only gotten close because he suspected Peter wasn’t from here, and Steph and Duke were just along for the ride. Cass was nice, sure, but how much could he trust them, how could he trust anybody when the last time he had done that, Aunt May fucking died?
“You good, kid?”
Peter blinked. “Fine. Just peachy.”
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I know. It’s okay. And now you know me. Now we’re even, right?”
“Why are you telling me this? Why tell me who you are? What do you have to gain from this?”
Jason was quiet for a moment. “I know this is hard for you, Pete. Trust me, I know what it’s like to not trust anything or anyone around you, to be caught up in that paranoia that will eat you alive but sometimes there are people who you can trust. I’m not asking you to believe me right now, but maybe before winter?”
“You never answered my question. What could you get from all of this?”
Jason sighed. “Honestly, kid? A friend. A friend here in Gotham. And, I really, really don’t like you staying in that building. The old Baxter one? Yeah that’s radioactive, kid. You’re a smart kid, you have to know what radiation can do to a person!”
“I’m not entirely a person. It’s in the name, Spider-Man.”
“Spiders can still be hurt by radiation.”
“Not this one.”
“Fucking hell, you’re a tough nut to crack, Pete! How about we focus on winter, then? I've looked it up, spiders can't thermoregulate. They can survive the winter due to an component in their blood, so you probably won't freeze to death, but you could go into diapause. Your body would get sluggish, and if you keep swinging around in that state, then someone's going to get a lucky shot in. I really don’t want to go into that building and find a dead kid. I can’t do that, don’t you dare do that to me!” Jason took a breath or two, lowering his voice back down. “I get how hard it is to trust people, I really do. I don’t need you to answer me on this right away. Just, think about it? I’ll leave you alone for a night or two if you want, but I like these nightly visits. You’re fun to talk to, and you’re fucking brilliant. Also any excuse to eat Bat Burger is a good one in my book, yeah?”
“Ok. I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I can ask for, Pete. Thank you.”