Worlds Away

Peter squinted at the stalagmites above him, blinking rapidly. He groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position, inadvertently stirring the person curled next to him. “Peter?” Tim mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Morning.”

Peter smiled at the figure. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed about the fact that his crush was practically on top of him. Peter looked around the room, seeing that he was, in fact, in a cave. So not all of last night had been a hallucination. That was good to know. At the end of Peter’s bed was a chair, holding Jason, who looked soft and adorable in his sleep. To Peter’s other side was Duke, who was sleeping soundly on a cot. Ah, so that was why Peter felt 10x better than normal. Maybe a little more spidery than he typically felt too, but that was fine with Peter. 

Peter closed his eyes and focused on the area around him. Three heartbeats closest to him, two on another level up, with three on another level up from that. One was Batman, and the other might have been the man from last night that helped Peter (Alfred? It felt like it was Alfred). One heartbeat kinda sounded like Robin, though Peter really couldn’t tell, since he hadn’t spent any time with Robin in or out of the mask. The other sounded like Cass, but Peter couldn’t be sure. The last heartbeat was for sure Steph though. Alfred was awake and moving around, his steps ridiculously loud to Peter. Everyone else was sleeping, except for Tim, who was just barely waking up. 

The whole house buzzed with electricity, especially the area around Peter. That checked out, considering the massive computer a little ways from Peter and the hospital equipment around him. Okay, Pete, how far away from Gotham are you? Peter focused, hearing life and vegetation and a cow (a cow???). Beyond that, if he focused hard enough like Matt taught him, Peter could hear the normal sounds of Gotham. It sounded maybe 12 miles away? Shit, that meant that he would have quite a walk ahead of him if he wanted to get back to his abode.

Tim stirred again, bringing Peter back to himself. “Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“This isn’t a dream again, is it?”

Again? Peter blushed something fierce. “No, Tim, this is quite real. How are you doing?”

“I should be asking you that.”

The cloth around Duke on the cot and Jason’s clothing rustled as the two other humans in the room stirred awake. “I’m alright. I’ve had way worse than this. Like way worse than this. I’ve had a building dropped on me.”

Now Jason and Duke were definitely awake. “What?!” Jason all but yelled. 

Peter shrugged. “That was years ago, and I’m fine. It wasn’t even anything super big, just a warehouse. I could handle it.” 

Peter’s nightmares and occasional panic attacks regarding that bit of trauma heavily disagreed, but it was fine, Peter was handling it. (Not.)

“What the fuck,” Duke and Tim mumbled at the same time. Tim sat up, looking up at Peter, flushing a bright red, and shoving himself away from Peter. Peter cocked his head to the side, smiling at Tim. 

“I didn’t mean to—” Tim stammered. 

“It’s alright,” Peter soothed. “I’m certainly not complaining.”

Tim blinked and looked away. “Um, do you want any help getting upstairs? We have an elevator and I can help you.”

“Sure, food sounds amazing right about now!” The very thought made Peter’s stomach complain loudly, eliciting a chuckle out of Jason. 

“We’ll go together,” Duke suggested. 

Tim slung Peter’s arm around his shoulders and stood up, pulling Peter along with him. Peter was surprised to find that it wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought it would be, then he remembered that Duke slept next to him and figured that yeah that would probably help healing significantly. That was probably why Duke was there to begin with. Sweet. 

Something smelling fantastic (besides Tim) hit Peter, and the boy beamed. “Do you guys smell that? Holy shit. Oh wait no there’s cinnamon, fuck!” 

Peter reeled, unsuccessfully trying to flinch away from air. Jason rested a hand on Peter’s other shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly. “You not a fan of cinnamon?”

“Or peppermint. Or citrus. Or any kind of spicy stuff? Or any kind of acidic stuff. I can eat and be around and smell any of them, I just really, really don’t want to.”  

“...so like a spider?” Duke deadpanned. 

“Yeah, pretty much. You guys shouldn’t have any problem with capsaicin, though.”

“Why not?” Tim asked.

“Birds aren’t affected by capsaicin.” Peter was well aware they weren’t actually birds, but if they were going to call themselves after birds, then he was going to go along with it for the fun of it.

The four of them made their way to the elevator, which took them to the ground floor. They led Peter to the kitchen, where a familiar man was whipping up some breakfast for the family of vigilantes. “Alfred, right?” Peter asked. 

“That’s me, Master Peter. How are you feeling this morning?”

“Pretty darn good, and I think I have you to thank for that.”

“You do, and you’re welcome. I daresay Master Duke had quite a bit to do with it, though.”

“Thanks, Duke.”

“No problem, man. I just had to be there.”

“Master Tim, Master Duke, could you two please go find a set of crutches? I’m sure you know where they are.”

Duke nodded and began to walk out, Tim trailing behind. He cast one more glance at Peter, then was gone. 

“Are you doing alright, Master Jason? I am happy you’re lingering, but I hope you’re not putting too much strain on yourself. As grateful as I’m sure Master Peter is, there are plenty of other people that care for him in the mansion.”

Jason swallowed, his racing heartbeat audible to Peter even without Duke around. “I’ll be fine, I think. If it gets to be too much, I parked near the front door, not one of the cave entrances, so I can get out of here pretty quickly.”

Alfred nodded, seemingly appeased by this. Despite his worry, it was obvious just how happy Alfred was that Jason was there. The two fell into a lull of small talk, with Jason helping around the kitchen as Peter sat at one of the bar stools. Peter spaced out, the warmth reminding him of another time in another universe. Memories of weekends spent with Uncle Ben and Aunt May dancing and laughing while food burned in the background. A tear rolled down Peter’s cheek.

“—eter, Pete, you good, buddy?” Jason was shaking Peter’s shoulder lightly.

Peter blinked, scrubbing at his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just spaced out, don’t worry about me.”

The worry lines on Jason’s face didn’t go away. “You sure, kid?”

“Just. Memories. Another time, another place. You know how it is.”

“Do— do you want to talk about it?” Jason’s voice was hesitant, anxious.

Peter debated. He didn’t know these people. How could he tell them that he wasn’t an alien, he was just displaced in time and space? Peter opened his mouth, about to answer when Tim and Duke came back, carrying a set of clearly well-used crutches. Peter cleared his throat and shook his head. “Yeah, I’m good, thanks though.”

Jason shot a look at the two other boys, who shrank back. Peter tugged on his arm. “Seriously, Jason, I’m fine. Or I will be, anyway. Eventually.”

Jason let it go. “Fine, whatever. Breakfast is just about ready. I think having Tim and Duke show you around the mansion and get the other whelps might help you adjust to using crutches, plus you can borrow some of Tim’s clothes and get out of your suit. And take a shower. And we can change your bandages.”

“Sounds good to me,” Peter shrugged. 

Duke and Tim led him away, pointing out different bits and pieces of the manor. “Fun fact,” Tim stated, “Dick has swung and flipped off of every single one of the chandeliers here. He’s done handstands and hand-walks on every single one of the rails here.”

Peter smirked. “I could walk on my hands, that would take pressure from my legs, and it would make it so I wouldn’t have to use crutches!”

“Dick once used that same argument,” a gruff voice interjected. The three teens turned to see Bruce at the top of the stairs, making his way down to them. “Good morning, Peter, Duke, Tim. How’s the leg, Peter?”

“It’s doing pretty great, Mr. Wayne!” Peter chirped. “Stab wounds normally take me 48 hours to heal when I’ve got a full belly, so with Duke hanging around, I won’t have to be in your guys’ hair for much longer.”

Bruce hummed. “Use those crutches until then. I don’t care if you have enhanced healing, it won’t heal unless you keep off of it, you hear me?”

Peter nodded, tucking them securely under his arms. “Yes, sir, Mr. Batman, sir.”

Bruce flashed the Gotham Half-Smile and passed them. “You can use the elevators any time you need to get to a different floor. They might take a bit longer than regular stairs, but I insist. Until your leg is healed.”

Tim and Duke tugged him away to said elevator, which the three took to the next floor, the one with three other heartbeats. The first door they stopped at had Duke and Tim exchanging glances as they held a silent conversation, both pushing the other slightly forward towards the door. Peter rolled his eyes and knocked, calling out, “Alfred sent us to tell you that breakfast is ready.”

Footsteps raced towards the door and it was thrown open, revealing a 12 year old boy with deeply tan skin, green eyes, and a sneer. “Thank you. I’ll be down in a moment.” 

The door was slammed in Peter’s face, who shrugged. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked. 

Duke and Tim eyed the door distrustfully, but ultimately moved on with Peter. The next door Peter was barely able to get a single knock in before it swung open gracefully, revealing Cass, who smiled warmly at Peter. “You okay?”

“‘Tis but a scratch,” Peter promised in a terrible British accent. 

“A scratch?” Tim screeched in an equally bad British accent. “Your arm’s off!” 

“Breakfast’s ready,” Duke interrupted the two good-naturedly. He rolled his eyes at their antics and they moved on to the last room, presumably Steph’s.

She was throwing open the door and greeting them halfway down the hall, somehow looking wide awake in her Wonder Woman pajama pants and shirt with a weird looking green lantern thing on it. “Goooooood morning, Gwen!”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Good morning, David. Now if you’re done being a morning person, Alfred’s got breakfast almost done.”

“How’s the leg, Pete?”

“Should be healed a couple hours after breakfast if Duke can stand my presence for that long.”

Steph cackled. “If he can survive Tim’s presence for the year or so Duke’s been around, he can take a couple of hours with you like a champ. You’re just an adorable wittle nerd!”

Peter squinted. “Don’t patronize me, Brown.”

“Aww, you almost sound like Dami.”

With that, the four of them squeezed back into the elevator and made it back to the kitchen where Alfred had a feast laid out for them. Everyone else was already there (somehow…) and they dug in, with Peter avoiding the cinnamon rolls. It was a quick affair, and Jason left to go move Peter’s things to his apartment/safehouse and Peter was being shoved towards a shower with a towel and a bundle of clothing before he knew it. 

Holy hell the bathroom was gorgeous. The whole thing was decked out in tile, with a big ass mirror and nice vanity lights and a fancy ass shower attachment and the only thing Peter could think about (besides how good a shower felt) was that rich people were fuckin’ wild.

Tim almost lost his mind when Peter came out of the shower. He looked really good in Tim’s clothes. Like, really good. 

They changed Peter’s bandages and then they hung out, playing Super Smash Brothers. 

Peter squinted at the scene, Tim glancing over every so often. “Where’s Sora?” Peter asked.

Tim blinked, then squinted. “Like the Japanese word for ‘sky?’” 

“No, I mean, yeah, that’s what the character is named after, but I’m looking for the character!”

“There’s never been a ‘Sora’ in Smash Bros, dude, what are you going on about?”

Peter was quiet for a moment, before suddenly turning and gently shaking Tim by the shoulders. “Tell me you have Star Wars, please tell me you have Star Wars.”

Tim had no idea what Peter was going on about, and his facial expression must have said as much, because Peter buried his face into Tim’s chest with a muffled “Noooooooo!”

“Is ‘Star Wars’ a movie or something?” Duke asked.

“It’s not just a mere movie, it’s one of the best movie trilogies of all time! And it’s not here, what the fuck?!”

“We have Star Trek,” Tim offered. 

Peter sniffled. “I’ll take it.”

Tim patted his back awkwardly and the games continued. Despite not having this ‘Sora’ character, Peter beat them all soundly as Pit, much to everyone’s dismay. Damian snarled and stormed off, leaving the four teens alone. 

“Next time, Gadget, next time!” Steph roared, shaking her fist in the air as she watched Daisy shake her head and clap sadly on screen. 

Peter smirked, leaning into Tim, who was still picking his jaw off the ground. “Damn, Pete,” he said after a moment. “That was pretty good.”

“Thanks, Timmy.”

“Yeah. Yeah no problem.”

Tim might be in love. Fuck.