Worlds Away

Peter stumbled through the threshold, dead on his feet and clumsier than a drunk baby deer. He tossed his backpack on the floor, toed off his shoes, and flopped face first onto the couch. A bemused Jason was sitting at the kitchen table, clearing his throat. “So, uh, I saw what happened. You wanna talk about it?”

Peter groaned into the couch cushions. 

“You stop Superman from being killed. That’s pretty neat,” Jason continued.

“The article hasn’t even been published yet.” Peter finally lifted his head and strained to look at Jason. “How’d you know?”

“Tim told me. Are you always this willing to risk your life?”

“You and Tim talk? I thought you hated him.”

Jason sighed, looking at the floor. “I don’t… I don’t hate him, it’s just…”

Peter was sitting fully upright now, an eyebrow raised as he stared at Jason. “It’s just?”

“I don’t know, Pete. We talk when it’s important, alright? And you’re pretty fucking important to both of us. In entirely different ways, sure, but still.”

“What would it take for the two of you to get along?”

“We get along just fine, Pete, we just don’t talk that much, that’s all.”

“Really?” Peter deadpanned. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

Jason shot him a glare. “I thought we were talking about what happened today.”

“That is a change of topic but I’ll allow it. Yeah, it happened. They say that Kryptonians are strong enough to reverse the rotation of the Earth, is that true?”

“As far as I know, yeah. And you were able to elbow one in the chin and actually have it do something.”

“I knew they were strong, so I kinda tried to do it as hard as I could,” Peter mumbled.

“Well it worked, kid. Good job. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have some Kryptonian visitors in the near future though…”

Peter blanched. “Oh?”

“Tim told you who Superman is, right?”

“No, I keep forgetting to ask. Plus it kinda feels like an invasion of privacy…”

Jason blinked. “In this economy?”

“Right. Family of detectives. And stalkers.”

“Superman is Clark Kent, Pete.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “His wife suspects something about me and they’re both investigative reporters. Superman saw what I did point blank. Oh fuck.”

Jason chuckled. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Pete. They can keep a secret. I just find it interesting that you decided to risk your secret identity for Superman’s life, but not your own. Tim mentioned how you were slipping up there, literally, but all that went out the window the moment someone else’s life was threatened.”

Peter cringed, clenching his teeth as his shoulders rose. “Yeah, well, I couldn’t just let him blast Superman. I can’t believe they have freaking laser eyes! Laser eyes!”

“Just because you let me change the subject doesn’t mean I’m going to do the same, Pete. Have you given any more thought into therapy?”

“It wasn’t a ‘his life is worth more than mine’ kind of thing, okay? Even if that is objectively true—”

“It really isn’t, though.”

“—it was more of an, oh shit, this guy might die if I don’t do something, and I have the power to do something. If I don’t do something when I have the power to help, then it’s like… it’s like I pulled the trigger.”

Peter’s face was cold and distant as that night flashed through his head again, of Uncle Ben dying in his arms because he didn’t do something, of Aunt May dying because he tried to help the villain. Doomed if he doesn’t help, and doomed if he does. 

Jason’s hand was on his shoulder, making Peter blink away tears he didn’t realize he had formed. “Hey, you told me how that all went down. You did the right thing, and May knows it, okay?”

“You and Tim don’t have powers like me. Sure, you’re stronger than most, but what if I lose you too? What if I lose both of you just like I lost May, and how I lost Ben, and how Peter Three lost his MJ, and how both of them lost their Bens? Sure you two can fight, all of you can, but you don’t have super healing, you don’t have invulnerability, you can die pretty easily.”

Jason scoffed. “I already did die, okay? Ain’t no way I’m going down a second time. I’ve got good news for ya, Pete. It’s already happened to me and I made it out alive. And Tim is smarter than Bruce and pretty damn strong, okay? We’re here, you can’t get rid of us that easily. And if you try to push us away now, when we already know that you care and want us around, we’re only going to stick to you more. You got that?”

Peter sniffled and nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Jay.”

“Of course kid. What happened today really shook you up, huh?”

“It was my Parker Luck, my curse. But I wanted to go to Metropolis and study under a real photographer, knowing full well what my presence brings.”

“Let’s get you an appointment tomorrow, okay?”

“Appointment?”

“At the Watchtower. Meet some of the pros there, and I’m not talking about other heroes.”

“Therapists?”

“Bingo. You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, kid, but you forget that you’re not alone in this. We’re here for you, and now that we’re attached, we’re like fucking roaches. You can’t get rid of us even if you wanted to, but I think we both know you don’t want to.”

Peter stifled a sob and hugged Jason. “Okay. Let’s go talk to some therapists.”

Peter stared out at the Earth below, wondering what the Titans were doing right now. He turned back to the interior, watching as people of all shapes and sizes moved around each other. People with purple jumpsuits and badges weaved around the many, many heroes. So many heroes, so many traumatized people. No wonder the JL had hired a team of therapists. “Spider-Man?” 

Peter turned towards Jason, who was decked out in his Red Hood garb. His body language was tense, and his heartbeat was a little faster than normal. Next to him stood Superman, who was studying Peter with a quiet intensity that Peter knew could only come from a journalist. “You may not be a member yet, but considering that Batman already has your trust, you may as well be,” Superman disclosed with a smile. 

Peter blinked. “Did Batman say he trusts me?”

“Not with words, but I’ve known him for quite a while now, and the times that he has mentioned you, he…” Superman sighed. “It’s hard to explain, but I know what I know.”

“Huh.”

“Anyways, would you like a tour? Or do you just want to get to Floor Four?”

“Floor Four?” Peter parroted. 

Superman’s smile was warm and kind, the exact same one Peter had received just the other day in Metropolis. “That’s where our psychologists and psychiatrists and licensed counselors are stationed.”

“Yeah, sure, let’s go.”

Superman began to make his way away from the large window with Peter close behind, only for Peter to stop as a hand on his wrist tugged him back. “Just remember, kid, you can back out at any time, okay?” Jason reassured. 

Peter’s smile was small, but there nonetheless. “Okay.”

The two followed Superman to the elevators, which took them down and down and down and down. “How many floors does this place have?” Peter asked in wonder.

Superman chuckled. “Fifty three. We were at the top floor, so that’s why it’s taking a while.”

Peter paused, wondering. “Sir, why did you decide to be here with me right now? You’re a super important guy, with a lot to do, right?”

There was that fatherly smile again. If Peter kept using that adjective, Superman might be in trouble, considering any and all of the other father figures he’s ever had. “Maybe I just wanted to thank the guy that saved my life.”

Peter sighed in resignation. “I had a feeling this would come up,” he grumbled. “What tipped you off?”

“Well you and Tim are pretty close, and a meta with your power would surely show up on someone’s radar. It just so happened that that someone was me, and well, there was a new super in Gotham that Tim was all too excited to talk to Conner about.”

Peter blushed, once again grateful for his mask. He seriously had no idea how certain people were able to handle just domino masks. “Have you told anyone else?”

“No one that didn’t also figure it out.”

“Ms. Lane?”

“Yeah. No one else, though.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course! Son, you saved my life. And even if you hadn't, you were still pretty darn brave in the process. You’re pretty cool, Spider-Man.”

Peter’s jaw was on the goddamn floor. Superman thought he was cool. What a day. Gee, maybe his luck was turning around in this universe. The elevator dinged and Jason and Peter got off. “If you need anything, Spider-Man,” Superman said, “let me know. I would be honored to get to know you. Plus, maybe I could convince you to go back to your original colors. Red and blue certainly work for me.” 

Superman winked, and the elevator doors closed. “Holy shit,” Peter breathed, staring at Jason in shock. “Did that just happen?”

Jason let out a hearty laugh at that. “Kid, I’m hoping that by this time next year, you’ll realize just how amazing you really are. Now, let’s meet some therapists, yeah? Do you want me to leave you alone for this part?”

Peter shook his head. “If you don’t mind staying, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

“Of course, kid.”

They approached the main desk, where a pleasant looking woman with a soft smile greeted them. “Spider-Man, I presume?”

Peter nodded.

“Right on time. We looked over your file and found someone who we think might be a good fit. Of course, if this is not the case, we ask that you please tell us as soon as possible so you can actually get the help you need. Self-sacrifice through letting others believe that you’re doing okay when you’re not is something we see a lot. It’s not a waste of our time, it’s our job. Alright?”

“You guys do really deal with heroes a lot.”

“You bet we do, son. Now, Dr. Ortega is in room 432, right down there, sweetie.”

Jason sat down in one of the comfortable looking arm chairs and waved Peter on. Peter took a deep breath and headed down the hallway, eventually finding the door and knocking. “Come in,” a voice called as the door slid open. 

Peter had been expecting a cool futuristic look to match the rest of the building, but what he instead saw was a warmly decorated area. A small candle was lit on the desk, providing a thankfully none too heavy scent of baking cookies to the room. Paper lanterns hung above them, and the comfy looking leather couch was adorned with mismatched pillows, one of them looking like a banana slice. Framed photos were adorned with fairy lights hung with command hooks. Behind the couch sat a bookshelf filled with well worn books and various trinkets. In front of the couch was a desk littered with paperwork and a laptop pushed to the side. In the chair behind that sat a person with vibrant blue hair. Their small nose was adorned with a small septum piercing, a little hoop with a mushroom on it. Their ears had hoops lining the cartilage, and the whole look was pulled off with a cool leather jacket.

The person stood up and held out their hand to Peter, grinning. “Dr. Ari Ortega, at your service. I go by Ari, they/them pronouns, please and thank you. And you must be Spider-Man, is that correct? I could guess by the name that you use he/him pronouns, but that would be assuming and I never want to do that.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, it’s he/him.”

“Alrighty then, and what, if you don’t mind me asking, is your real name, if you feel comfortable with sharing.”

Peter slowly sat down on the couch as the door shut behind him. Peter went to pull off his mask, hesitating, then pulling it off fully. He gave a small smile, saying, “I’m Peter. Peter Parker.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Peter. Now, what brought you to therapy?”

Peter laughed dryly. “I’m sure you can guess, Ari.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can too,” they replied. “I prefer to hear it in your own words, just to get a grasp on what we’re working with.”

“Well, I’m here because Ja— Red Hood suggested for me to. He’s been looking after me and letting me stay with him, and I finally told him what happened to me and how I got here. He recommended therapy.”

“I see. And you took him up on it?”

“Yeah. So um, here I am.”

“Okay, let’s start basic. Did you grow up in Gotham?”

Peter shook his head. “Queens, New York. Gotham, uh,” might as well rip the bandaid off now. If they don’t believe him, then Peter would try the next one. “Gotham doesn’t exist in my dimension.”

“You’re not from this dimension?”

Peter shook his head. 

“Fascinating. And what brought you to this one?”

“You believe me?”

“Sure. I don’t see what reason you would have to lie. This is a crazy world we live in, Peter. Anything and everything can happen. And does happen! Happens all the time! So dimensional travel? Hell yeah I believe you!”

Peter’s face almost splits with the big grin he’s sporting. “Thank god. I mean, Jason believes me and everything, and so does Tim and everyone else, but normal people, I just didn’t know.”

“Are you alright if I swear?”

Peter nodded. 

“What the fuck is a normal?”

Peter laughed, shaking his head. “Not like I would know.”

“As far as I’m concerned, Peter, normal doesn’t exist. I might not be a superhero, but it doesn’t exist for me either, okay?”

Peter nodded. 

“So,” Ari continued. “What brings you over to this dimension?”

“A spell. From the most powerful sorcerer back home, guy by the name of Doctor Strange…” 

And with that, Peter had a therapist.