A Father in the Shadows
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The rain came down in a steady drizzle, making the already gloomy streets of Gotham seem even more oppressive. Peter Parker walked with his hood up, hands shoved into his pockets, feeling more lost than ever. He had been in Gotham for a few weeks now, but he still felt like a stranger in a foreign land. Every corner, every alley had shadows thicker than those in New York. And the weight of the revelation about Richard—Nightwing—being his father hadn’t made things any easier.
Peter had no idea how to process that. He didn’t know if he ever would.
As he wandered, his eyes caught something unexpected: a flyer pinned to a telephone pole.
**Wayne Foundation Charity Gala – All are Welcome.**
Beneath that, an invitation to the public to come meet Gotham’s famed billionaire, Bruce Wayne. Peter had heard about Bruce, of course. You couldn’t read about Gotham without hearing about him. Rich, elusive, philanthropist. Also the guy who allegedly had a thing for adopting random kids and turning them into vigilantes. At least, if you believed the rumors.
Peter didn’t really care about meeting a billionaire, but free food was free food. The motel he was crashing in was barebones, and the money he had was running out.
“Guess it couldn’t hurt,” Peter muttered to himself as he made his way toward Wayne Tower.
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The Wayne Foundation Gala was more upscale than Peter had expected. As he walked through the massive, beautifully lit atrium of Wayne Tower, he couldn’t help but feel out of place. People in designer suits and glittering dresses filled the room, sipping champagne and exchanging small talk that Peter wanted no part of. He could see trays of appetizers being passed around, but he didn’t want to look desperate. Not yet, anyway.
He tugged at his hoodie, trying to blend in as best he could in his casual, borderline shabby clothing. He hadn’t exactly come prepared for a fancy event.
As he stood awkwardly near the edges of the room, his eyes wandered over the architecture. Wayne Tower was beautiful—sleek, modern, and filled with a sense of legacy that Gotham thrived on. He could almost feel the power in the air.
And then, there he was.
Bruce Wayne.
The man moved through the crowd with an ease that spoke of confidence, but Peter could see something deeper. Bruce was watching everyone, his sharp blue eyes always calculating, always thinking. He wasn’t just a billionaire—he was a tactician. A man with plans within plans.
Peter had to admit, there was something... magnetic about him.
Bruce’s gaze swept over the room, locking onto Peter almost immediately. For a split second, Peter felt exposed, as though Bruce had seen through his disguise, had seen the spider lurking underneath. He quickly looked away, trying to focus on anything else. A nearby painting, the marble floor, a waiter passing by with a tray of drinks.
But when he glanced back, Bruce Wayne was walking straight toward him.
Peter’s heart sank. Of course, Bruce had noticed him. He stuck out like a sore thumb in this place. He should’ve known better than to come here.
“Not exactly your scene, is it?” Bruce’s voice was smooth, but there was something else in it. Something warmer than Peter had expected.
Peter shrugged, forcing a half-smile. “Guess not. Just... checking things out.”
Bruce nodded, his eyes scanning Peter’s face with a curious intensity. “You’re not from Gotham, are you?”
“Nope,” Peter replied, trying to stay vague. “Just passing through.”
Bruce was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was piecing something together. It was unnerving, how quickly he seemed to assess people. “You remind me of someone,” Bruce said finally, his voice low.
Peter stiffened. For a moment, he wondered if Bruce had somehow made the connection—if he knew about Nightwing and everything that Peter was trying to process. But then Bruce continued.
“There’s a look you get when you’ve been through more than you should have,” Bruce said quietly. “And you’ve been through a lot. Haven’t you?”
Peter clenched his fists in his pockets, trying to keep his emotions in check. “I manage.”
Bruce’s expression softened, almost imperceptibly. “Managing isn’t the same as living. Trust me.”
Peter didn’t know what to say to that. He hadn’t expected this—he hadn’t expected Bruce Wayne to be... kind.
“Look,” Peter said, taking a small step back. “I’m not looking for trouble. I just—”
Bruce interrupted him. “I know what it’s like to be alone. To feel like the world’s forgotten you. To have no one left.”
Peter’s throat tightened. How could this man—this billionaire who probably had everything—possibly understand what it felt like to lose everyone you loved?
Bruce took a step closer, his voice still soft, but firm. “I’m offering you a way out of that. Gotham’s a hard place to survive alone. It doesn’t have to be that way for you.”
Peter frowned, confused. “What are you saying?”
“I want to help you,” Bruce said, his tone straightforward. “You need somewhere to stay. A place where you can be safe, where you don’t have to carry the weight of everything on your own.”
Peter blinked. Was Bruce... offering him a place to stay?
“I can handle myself,” Peter said quickly. “I’ve been doing it for a while now.”
Bruce shook his head, his gaze unwavering. “No one should have to handle it all on their own.”
Peter opened his mouth to argue, but Bruce continued before he could say anything.
“I’m offering you a home, Peter.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Peter felt his knees go weak for a second. “A home?”
Bruce nodded. “I don’t know your full story, and you don’t have to tell me. But I can see enough to know that you don’t have anyone. And that’s something I understand better than most.”
Peter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was Bruce Wayne. Gotham’s most powerful man. And he was offering to take Peter in? It felt too good to be true. Too surreal.
“Wait,” Peter said, trying to process. “Are you saying you want to... adopt me?”
Bruce’s expression didn’t waver. “If that’s what you need.”
Peter stood there, stunned into silence. This wasn’t just an offer for a place to crash. Bruce was serious. He wanted to bring Peter into his life, his family.
And for a moment, Peter was tempted. He was so tired. Tired of being alone. Tired of fighting. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to let someone else take the weight off his shoulders for a while.
But then reality came crashing back in.
“You don’t even know who I am,” Peter said, shaking his head. “You don’t know what kind of trouble I could bring to your doorstep.”
Bruce’s eyes remained steady. “Everyone has trouble. But no one should have to face it alone.”
Peter’s mind was spinning. How could this be happening? Was Bruce serious? Or was he just seeing a lost kid and feeling sorry for him? He couldn’t be Bruce Wayne’s charity case. And more than that, Bruce didn’t know the full truth.
He didn’t know that Peter wasn’t just some random kid. He didn’t know about Richard—about Nightwing.
And then it hit Peter like a freight train.
Bruce didn’t realize who Peter was. He didn’t know that Peter was *Richard Grayson’s* son.
Holy crap.
Peter’s heart pounded in his chest as the weight of the situation pressed down on him. What would Bruce do if he found out? Did Richard know Bruce was trying to take Peter in? Was this some weird cosmic joke?
“I... I don’t know if I can do that,” Peter said, his voice shaky.
Bruce didn’t push. He simply nodded, giving Peter space to think. “The offer’s on the table,” Bruce said. “Take your time. But you don’t have to be alone.”
Peter looked down, his thoughts racing. Bruce Wayne—Gotham’s most infamous vigilante, though he hadn’t said it outright—was offering to be his guardian. And Bruce didn’t even know that Peter was the son of his former ward. His *first* ward.
It was too much. It was all too much.
“I... I need to think about it,” Peter mumbled, taking a step back.
Bruce gave him a small, understanding nod. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
Peter turned and practically bolted for the exit, his heart racing. As soon as he was outside, he took a deep breath of the cold Gotham air, trying to calm down.
What the hell had just happened?
Bruce Wayne wanted to adopt him.
And he had no idea that Peter was already tangled in Gotham’s web of secrets. No idea that Peter was the son of Dick Grayson—the first Robin. Nightwing.
Peter rubbed his temples, his thoughts spinning.
Gotham was getting way too complicated.
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**To be continued...**