Where could I go?

Days bled into weeks with the Joker. Eventually, weeks bled into months. 

After the Joker's first plan went wrong, he spiraled into an episode of furious planning that lasted two weeks. In that time Peter would mostly keep to himself, the other members of Joker's gang didn’t trust him yet so he didn’t have much to do. After poking around his barren room, Peter was able to find a couple books. Most of them were childrens books, the pages beginning to yellow, but they provided a way to pass the time that wasn’t just staring at the wall. Peter would take what he could get.

Days would pass where he wouldn’t hear a word from the Joker, those were the days where he felt the safest. He would be tucked away in his room, reading or napping. A member would bring him food twice a day, usually without conversation. When he dared venture outside of his room, there would only be a couple of gang members scattered around the building. Most of them threw glances his way, none spoke to him.

After a few days without the Joker's presence, he would be startled awake in the middle of the night by the clown himself. He’d always be rambling about something, some type of plan he’s cooked up. Peter tries earnestly to listen but he’s always woken up from a deep sleep. When he almost doses off, he’s shocked back awake by the Joker so he can continue his ramblings.

The talking would last for hours, they would always be disjointed plans that never made any sense. The beginnings of whatever terrors he had planned. He would come in for at least two nights, mumbling and speaking incoherently, Peter would just nod along most of the time.

The cycle usually lasted around two weeks. A plan would go wrong so he would be angry and usually blame Peter for failing something he was supposed to do. Then would come the days of silence where Peter could usually keep to himself without any trouble, time to relax. Eventually the Joker would make a new plan and he would share it with Peter, usually in the middle of the night, he was tired all the time during this phase. When he finally comes up with a new plan, the Joker would be at his best. 

The excitement would keep him going up until he could execute his plan. He’d be kinder than usual to Peter, bringing him gifts or trinkets scattered around the old building. He would always apologize to Peter for hurting him by gifting him a book or DVD (never mind that he doesn’t have a DVD player…or a TV). 

Those were the best times to be around the Joker, he would dote on Peter and make sure he was happy. As happy as he could be when he was a captive of an insane clown, but given the current circumstances he felt alright.

Every night was a cause for celebration, every plan was ‘the one’.

It was clear to Peter that he was seen as a special form of muscle, a toy for the Joker to play with until he got bored then remembered he existed again days later. At least this cycle was predictable.

As the days slowly passed and the cycle continued, Peter could feel himself becoming more complacent. 

When plans didn’t go well he knew where to go to receive his beating, when Joker came into his room to talk to him for hours he knew to stay up. He knew now to just go along with whatever the Joker says, nodding absentmindedly. It saves him a lot of trouble in the end, even though it leaves this inky black feeling in his stomach. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, he knows it. 

He tries to help sabotage Joker's plans as best he can. Though each failure brings a new night of pain.

If it seemed like the bats were lagging behind he would try to explain something they were missing in as little words as possible to not alert the Joker that he was helping them. After each plan the beating stayed the same, why not help where he could?

When he spoke to the many vigilantes in the city while trying to fight them, they all had varying reactions. Most ranged between silently nodding and investigating, to one extremely cheery one thanking him and patting him on the back. That guy was actually pretty chill. Most of the vigilantes looked at him with a quiet regard, opting to avoid him unless they were exchanging blows. He knew in the back of his mind that in their eyes he was too far gone, another one of Joker’s dogs that would do anything for him. 

He just wants to explain his situation.

But would it even matter?

He’s still hurting innocent people by proxy, he’s still fighting the people that are supposed to be heroes, he’s still killed. If he explains what's going on now, he’s just admitting that he’s a coward. A coward who would do anything to avoid being hurt. During his plans, Peter tries to communicate with the bats in whatever way he can.

Most of them don’t listen to his pleas. 

The most ruthless of them is…hard to figure out, he doesn’t even know his name. A man with a red helmet and leather jacket, that's all he knows. Whenever he asks the Joker about him, the man dissolves into fits of giggles. 

It’s clear to the guy that Peter is nothing but another henchman. He can feel the burning hate radiating off the man whenever he gets close.

He tries to avoid that guy, but of course everythings eventually gotta go to shit during a plan.

—

Another one of Joker’s plans has blown up in his face, he’s ordering Prank around to fight various people as the clown feverishly tries to get Batman away from the bomb he’s planted in the middle of a park. 

Though, this time multiple hostages are strapped to the bomb.  

Peter can’t help but glance over at them worriedly. 

This time he’s fighting Batgirl, he likes fighting her since they usually go easy on each other and trade quips. He’s trying to focus but his eyes keep slipping back to those hostages, the terrified looks on their faces as Joker wildly gestures around them. Theres kids tied up and he just can’t stop loo-

“Prank? Helloooooo?” a hand waves in front of his face a few times, catching his attention. 

Batgirl stands expectantly with her hands on her hips, waiting to start to fight again.

“Dude, really not the best etiquette for fighting. Do you even want to be here?”

Does he?

All Peter can do is look down at the ground ashamed, he needs help and he should probably ask for it but how can he even be redeemed now? After all he’s done?

When the Joker calls him to a getaway car, he’s about to jump in through the window when a shot rings out across the park.

Suddenly, an overwhelming burning pain rips through his side. It’s too fast for his spider sense, especially when he’s already overwhelmed by the intensity of the battle that only ended a few seconds ago. 

He barely has time to register that a bullet has gone through him, when two goons grab him by the arms and heave him into the van. 

He tries to ignore the screaming in his side as the van bumps its way back to amusement mile.

—

Peter pulls himself out of his thoughts as he zeroes back in on the mission at hand. Apparently they’re going to detonate a specialized bomb that will knock out power to most of Gotham and cost the city millions of dollars. 

While the gang gets set up, Peter is told to simply ‘hold them off’. 

Soon enough a rumbling is heard down the road as Batman’s car approaches at definitely not legal speeds, followed by at least 2 motorcycles. Assuming someone else is in the car, he’s dealing with four vigilantes tonight. At least some goons were getting ready to fight too, but with the rate that Joker was bringing in goons during his current reign he could afford to lose some. Peter wasn’t counting on them to be too efficient.

As the batmobile approaches the group, Peter can see the Joker preparing himself. He's slicking his hair back and adjusting his lapels, chuckling lightly as he shifts his stance excitedly. His crazed gaze moves from the large device to the approaching vehicles. The excitement the man felt was coming off him in waves, that excitement Peter knew wouldn’t last when the plan eventually failed.

Please just let this be over quickly. 

Peter crouches on the ground ready to spring up at any second, the vehicles approaching skidding to halt a distance away from the gang. Peter braces himself for another fight and yet another night of pain. 

As the vigilantes descend onto Joker's goons. Prank springs into the air, grappling the first one he sees. Coincidentally, it was the one who shot him. 

Yay for him. 

As the two exchanged blows, Peter fell into his usual moves. This guy was particularly vicious tonight, as he fought there was an anger behind every punch. Grunts and yells came out mechanically through his helmet as he pushed Peter back. 

Analyzing the battlefield, Peter counts four vigilantes. The dude he was fighting, the dude with blue on his suit that was chill, Batman, and someone he hadn’t seen before. This one was fighting extremely efficiently, though he was also extremely small. Like, a child sized small.

Oh shit that's an actual child.

Peter falls back and lets himself gawk for a second. Sure, he knows he started his whole vigilantism career young but that kid has got to be young. He fights so well too, when the hell did he start fighting?? As Peter stares at the child, something ugly twists in his gut. He shouldn’t be fighting like this, he should get to be a kid. 

You should’ve been a kid.

The thought makes his skin crawl. Sometimes he tells himself that the burden placed on his shoulders was too much for a fifteen year old to bear, but it’s always countered with ‘someones gotta help’. Peter shakes off the feeling just in time for his spider-sense to go off, he contorts his body back as a large combat boot soars over where his head just was. Ah shit, he was fighting someone. He springs back up striking the man's helmet with a side hook ,which oh my god ow what the hell is that made of? If Peter wasn’t actively fighting this guy he would be geeking out about how cool that helmet is. 

As he continues to fight, the Joker jeers at Batman. Trying, and failing, to get a rise out of him. The blue vigilante (Night…guy? Something like that) is fiddling with something on the Batmobile. When Peter steals a quick glance, he clocks it as an EMP emitter. Very smart on their part, doesn’t harm anyone but still stops the Joker's device. Though, would it be that bad if Joker got a little roughed up? 

Probably for Peter it would be, after they leave he’ll probably be even more pissed. 

Peter delivers a sharp kick to the middle of the man's chest, sending him back a good couple feet. A whirring sound stops him from approaching the man to keep him down and his head snaps over to the device on the batmobile. 

A high pitched sound pierces the air as the Joker’s device powers down and something shifts on his neck. Barbs unlatch from their position formerly burrowed into his neck, cool air rushes over where the device once was.

Everything slows down for Peter as he looks down at the device that was just attached to his neck as it falls to the ground. He pulls a shaky hand up to his neck, nothing. Wide eyes lock with the man he was fighting with, Peter is sure he looks like a fool. Clutching at his neck with his mouth agape. 

A shrill cackle breaks him out of his stupor as the Joker is slammed into the road by Batman. 

Get out. Go! Get the fuck out. Go! Go! GO!

Peter’s still shaking. He glances between the vigilantes, the Joker pinned to the ground, and the man he was fighting currently getting back on his feet. 

Before he can register it, Peter aims his web shooters towards a building and yanks. His feet leave the ground and the wind whips through his hair as he swings down the street. 

He barely registers the voice of the Joker screaming after him.

He doesn’t care.

Energy courses through his veins as he continues swinging, taking random turns down streets he doesn’t even know. The wind curls over his body as tears of joy prick at his eyes. An elated giggle escapes his lips as he lands in a random park. 

No, not random. This is where he was shot, he can still feel the bullet wound pull slightly even as he moves now. He definitely isn’t supposed to be taking it this hard, but it’s not like the Joker would let him take a medical leave. 

Approaching a fountain, Peter scrubs at his face wildly. The red and white paint is bleeding into the water as he scrubs his face harder. He never wants to have that shit on ever again. When his face is clean, he swings further into the city. When his spider-sense stops buzzing (less than it usually does when he's in this city) he takes a break. The thrum at the back of his skull screaming ‘danger’ lessening is the only way he can sense he’s not being watched. 

He finds himself in an alleyway similar to the one he arrived in when he was first launched into Gotham. The dim street lamps only illuminate the mouth of the alley, the rest is shrouded by darkness.

Perfect

As Peter nestles behind a dumpster, he lets himself rest. The old stress of simply being in the Joker's presence is melting away. He touches his neck again, a smile crawling across his face as he feels the empty space where the device used to be latched into his neck. He feels the tension slowly bleeding away, but the worry that he’s doing something wrong still stays nestled in his chest. He has a feeling that will stay for a while.

As he feels himself drift off, tucked tightly into a corner behind a dumpster. Peter thinks about the strange city he’s in and how he’s going to navigate it tomorrow.

What the hell do I do now?