Chapter Text
Peter had never been the most social person. He was a little introverted, and as a kid didn’t have too many friends. That was fine with him, usually. It didn’t bother him all that much. But everything changed after the spiderbite. Suddenly, Peter couldn't go more than a couple days without close contact with others. He had to talk to people, especially his family.
It hadn’t been that big of an issue, either. He had Aunt May, and she’d always been receptive to his constant pestering. So even though the sudden need for attention was draining, he was able to get around it. He’d never told them the why. Agelena consociata, the bane of his early teen years. He was bit at 12, the start of normal puberty, which would’ve been bad enough. But he just had to be bit by a freak spider that made him want.. to be hugged. Pathetic.
But he’s not with Aunt May right now. Nor, Mr. Stark. He’s not even on earth.
This was on purpose, he thinks. Dr. Strange had warned him. He’d sworn, if something went wrong fighting Thanos, that Peter would make it out safe.
But it’s with a haggard gasp that he breaches the surface of the green surrounding him. Some sort of liquid, he’s pretty sure. That’s what it feels like when he pulls himself out the edge of it, leaving the green residue in his hair. It’s thicker than water, but not quite sludge. It still runs off his arm as he pushes himself to his feet.
His heart is racing. Quick, rabbiting thumps against his ribs. He feels… wrong. It’s only his spider sense that keeps him somewhat in control. His body is panicking, and his mind would too, but there's the thrumming feeling of
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safe
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So he’s able to keep his head, just barely through the intense feelings wracking his mind. He’s upset. Some strange volatile mix of anger and.. grief? Anger, he’s not sure why. The emotions are more a bodily reaction than mental. Like his mind hasn’t caught up to what’s upset him quite yet. Or worse: like they're not really his emotions. Like the anger has been forced upon him. The anger roars at him, bouncing across his skull. The secondary emotion feels a little more real. A little more like his own. It doesn't yell or scream at him, it sits in his chest uncomfortably. Makes him want to weep. It almost feels as if they were competing for attention, the mix of emotions boiling unpleasantly.
He’d been fighting- he remembers. He was on Titan, with Dr. Strange, and Mr. Stark. Peter sucks in a sharp breath, leaning against the nearest object. It’s rough against his shoulder, and he recognizes his suit must be ripped where his bare skin is touching rock. There's what feels like a sinking feeling in his gut, and he recognizes it as the underlying grief rearing its ugly head. Peter’s fingers curl into a fist and he slams it into the rockface. He’s in a cave, he realizes distantly. It’s safe in here, despite the bubbling pool of green. He could stay.
But there is a tertiary feeling. It’s not an emotion. It’s familiar. Something he knows very well. It’s the closest to Peter himself. His internal spider, he recalls the nickname through the haze of green. It isn’t him. But Peter feels a little too fragile at the moment. He’s fighting the anger still, combatting the grief settling deep into his bones. It’s easy to follow his spider’s lead. And though it says the cave is safe, it also calls to
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get up, out
-
So Peter follows the left wall of the cave. Every so often he has to take a minute to heave out breaths. Swallow back the feeling of they’re gone, they’re gone, we’re alone. Because he is alone. He’s all by himself. In a damp, cold cave. He doesn’t know where he is, doesn’t know how he’ll get home. Hell, he might not be on Earth. This doesn’t feel like Titan, but it could be another planet.
There’s salt on his tongue, and he swallows around sudden thickness in his throat. He pushes on. At least he isn’t injured. Or, well, he isn’t bleeding. Every step hurts a little. It’s more a sore kind of hurt. Like he’s already ran ten miles, and his body believes it’s actually thirty. But he isn’t injured. No cuts, no gunshot wounds. He can’t see any bruises through the rips of his suit. He needs new clothes.
Especially so, when he realizes that he’s suddenly not in a cave anymore. He’s now in a sewer. With the smell to prove it, too. Lovely. Automatically, Peter glances across his new surroundings. The sewer goes about fifty feet before turning, but there’s also a ladder leading up to a manhole at the end. Perfect.
He walks the draining fifty feet, each step as tortuous as the last. There’s a buzzing sense of danger that grows the closer he gets to the manhole. He ignores it, in favor of following his spider.
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up, up!
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But up is dangerous, so he’ll have to be careful. He climbs the latter, which is a little relief. Climbing feels comforting. Easier than walking, but not as lovely as swinging. He glances at his web shooters. He has some webs, but not nearly enough to consider using them without serious necessity. He shoves at the heavy manhole cover above him, and pushes himself outside the sewers.
The sense of danger hits like a brick, and he immediately wants to return back down to the sewers. He looks around anyways. It’s a city. And it’s definitely not New York.
He’s about to turn back into the sewer, but is urged on.
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find food.
-
His stomach growls. Yeah, he’d better find food. He puts the manhole cover back atop the exit. The sun is just going down, night creeping up on the city.
He’s thankful for his enhanced senses that he follows the smell of grease to what’s very clearly a fast food place. Batburger. Peter moves past the ordering counter and towards the bathroom sign.
He pushes open the door, and locks it behind him. He empties his bladder, and moves to wash his hands. He looks at the mirror-
That’s not him.
It’s too small to be him. Squishy cheeks, and bright green eyes (but he has brown, where are his brown eyes?) There’s a tuft of white at the front of his hair. It’s not him.
But it is. There’s still the scar along his left cheek, spreading from his jaw to the edge of his nose. He’d gotten it fighting Green Goblin- it was his scar.
He sucks in a breath and washes his hands. He’s small, but it’s still him. He dries his hands off with the flimsy brown paper towels. He takes off the rest of his suit. He always wears underclothes, anyways. A white tank top with shorts. Though, he’s practically swimming in the clothes now. Much too big for the smaller body.
He exits the bathroom. He takes a minute to take in the Batburger. There’s only one other customer, a guy.
He’s massive. Even if Peter were at his tallest, he’s pretty sure the guy would still dwarf him. He’s got on a leather jacket, and the spider preens in interest, it’d be perfect for a nest-
He squeezes his eyes shut. No. Bad
He gets in line behind the guy. He has a couple twenties in his pocket, he just has to hope that wherever he is uses the same currency. His hopes are confirmed when the big guy hands the cashier a one hundred dollar bill just like the ones at home. Thank god.
He studies the menu, and barely gets halfway through his scan before it comes his time to order, and he rasps out his order quickly. The first thing on the menu. The Batburger. And fries, because obviously
.
“Can I-“ He swallows. Yikes .His voice comes out crackly, sounding almost disembodied from himself. It’s his voice, but… young, “get a number one, please?”
The cashier dutifully puts his order in. Peter’s not paying much attention.
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watching
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There are eyes on him. Doesn’t this guy know it’s rude to stare. How irritating. The spider inside him hisses about it unhappily, so Peter’s head shoots to the side and he levels the man with a glare. The man holds his hands up in sign of peace.
He has the urge to snap. His nose wrinkles at it. This guy doesn’t deserve to be yelled at, calm down. For goodness sake. Now that he’s really looking, this guy also has some white at the front of his hair. The green perks up at that.
He ignores it. He turns away from the man.
He hands the cashier the money to pay for his food. He takes his soda cup with a small thanks to the cashier, and moves to the soda machines. He starts pouring what looks closest to a coke into his cup after filling with ice. He is very rudely interrupted by Skunk Hair.
“Hey, Kiddo-” Peter doesn’t scowl. He doesn’t!
But he does turn back around to the man, spitting out a response, “I’m not a kid.” He isn’t. He may… look like it, right now. But he was seventeen!
The man doesn’t even flinch. He just presses on, “Well, I gotta call you something.”
No he didn’t. Peter would much prefer to get his food and eat it, without all this pestering. “I’m Jason, what’s your name?”
Peter is so unbelievably annoyed. The man isn’t dangerous. Definitely not. So it’s just irritating that the man is concerned about him. He can sense it on him. Pity. Worry. Eugh. There’s no way this random man, in this city Peter knows nothing about, could actually care. But there isn’t any underlying danger. It’s not a trick. It’s just foolish care for someone Jason knows nothing about. This guy must be an idiot. No one cares- not unless they want something, or they’re stupid.
Peter’s about to snap something about stranger danger, but he’s cut off.
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danger! down!
-
Peter’s moving quickly now, placing his cup down on the counter, grabbing the man by his shoulders, and pushing him. He shoves the man, down underneath the soda counter right before the gun goes off.
The threat is a 5’8 ish man, lanky and greasy as can be. And he’s shouting at the cashier. The first shot had been a warning shot, obviously. “You stupid bitch! Thought you could hide in your dumb job?” The man is yelling.
Peter moves to get closer. The plan is to jump from behind as the man is distracted. His attention is pulled from behind him. Jason.
“Kid, what’re you doing? Get down!” He whisper-yells. Peter scoffs, and steps forward anyways. His footsteps are silent as he moves forward. He has got this. He just needs to move fast enough to keep the civilians safe. He’s handled these things a hundred times over. He’s not in his suit- but he can still do it.
There’s shuffling behind him, and his arm his grabbed before he can make it three more steps. Peter very quickly, yet still quiet as possible, twirls around. He grabs Jason, pushes him back under the counter, then webs him to the wall. Uses up the rest of his webs. “No. Stay.” He commands. He can’t let the guy get hurt, just cause he’s worried. Peter’s got it under control. Something about the spot low to the ground, under solid counter space and between two walls made his spider purr pleasantly. Yes, a perfect spot for a nest.
No, focus.
He turns back around, and speeds up his movements, because the gun is now inches away from the woman’s face. He leaps, reaching his hands around the barrel of the gun and turning it upwards at lightning speed.
The gun goes off again, but the bullet settles in the ceiling without hurting anybody. He rips the gun away from the guy, and it only takes three moves to take him down.
A kick to the back of his knee, making him kneel. A grab to his neck, to stop him from turning around and punching Peter, and a firm foot on his back to keep him down.
Easy peasy. He swallows, looks up to the cashier. She looks wide eyed, but doesn’t seem to be breathing. Probably in shock. Someone should get her an ambulance.
And the guy, too, because he’s pretty sure that he heard a snap of his wrist when Peter twisted the gun.
“Does someone wanna call the cops?” He asks, and his voice feels even more distant. He blinks hard, twice. He glances down at the man under his foot.
“Kid?” Jason calls from under the corner. He sounds incredibly worried. He shouldn’t be. Peter has it handled.
Peter has got it very handled, in fact. His spider wants to sing in thrill. He caught the prey. He is so proud.
He looks back over to Jason. Under a counter, in a corner. In Peter’s webs. Peter- kept him safe. He blinks a couple more times. Yes, he kept Jason safe. And Jason is in his web, now. Which meant that Jason was his
“Jason.” He says, the voice is much more detached. He doesn’t care in the moment. He caught the prey! He is so so very proud of himself. Peter realizes he needs to wrap the prey in web, but he doesn’t have any. A pity. They’re going to have to move soon, though. To avoid the cops.
So instead Peter simply… gets rid of his prey’s ability to move. He wouldn’t normally, but everything is so cloudy, and it’s so green but the green feels good alongside spider instincts. He’s hungry. Peter snaps the guys leg. He moves back over to the man, ignoring the criminal and the rest of the civilians in the Batburger.
“Jason,” Peter says again, because Jason didn’t reply fast enough the first time. “I caught it.” He says, like it’s the biggest achievement you could ever do.
“Kid-“
Even though he was just sad that Jason wasn’t replying fast enough, he bulldozes the man’s words, “He was trying to hurt us.” (That’s not quite true. He was threatening the cashier.)
His words are still a little detached, a little petulant, until the green roars in his ears and he lets out another prideful sentence, “But I caught him.” There’s a big grin that probably showed a little too much teeth.
“Good job, kid.” Yes! He did a very good job protecting the web. He glances around. This isn’t the web. That’s wrong. He thought-
Everything is so confusing. There’s a fluffy cloud in his head, and that internal spider hissing in his ear. He is very much not in control. “Jason.”
“I… hm..” What was his thought? Oh. Right. Get Jason to safety. He ducks down under the counter, beginning to rip apart the webs. Most people aren’t able to, but he had formulated the recipe just for him.
He glances back at Jason as he works.
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concerned
-
No, that’s wrong. He shouldn’t be worried at all. The threat is gone, Peter got rid of it. Peter protected him!
“Don’t worry. I got rid of the threat.” Is there another threat Jason is scared of? He’ll get rid of it. He listens hard to the surroundings. He doesn’t think there’s a threat, other than the sirens distantly approaching. He gets a good whiff of gunpowder. He should collect that gun now.
He crawls back out from under the counter, pulling Jason with him.
He walks over to it and picks it up. Peter doesn’t like guns. Uncle Ben, Please don’t- His heart leaps in his chest. He doesn’t want to hold this anymore.
“Jason. Take.” He says, practically shoving the gun at the other man. Jason takes it.
“Kid.” That’s not his name. Does Jason not know it? Silly.
“Peter.” He replies. That’s his name.
He still stinks of concern, and now a little fear. Peter scrunches his nose. That won’t do. He can’t have his new colony sad or scared. He’d be the worst protector.
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scared, concerned, worried
-
“Why are you scared? I killed the threat.” Wait, no he didn’t. Is that why he’s scared, the threat isn’t fully gone? Maybe he should kill it. Peter takes a step towards the squirming man on the floor-
“Ah-ah, no.” He is scooped up into big arms. Woah.
Warm. Peter doesn’t know whether he should squirm to be freed or relax into the hold. He relaxes a little, and lets himself be maneuvered until his head is atop Jason’s shoulder. It’s so nice to be held. So, so nice. It makes him want to preen happily.
But Jason still smells of concern. Why?
““Why are you still scared? Do I need to kill it? I will.”
Muscles tense under his arms and Peter feels the need to shoot up and get rid of whatever startled him. “Nah, kid, that won’t be necessary.” His name isn’t Kid!
“Hm.” What was it, then? Was Jason hungry? Right! Peter hadn’t fed him yet. “Let’s get food.” Peter demands.
“Kid, we just got food.” Oh, right! He almost forgot. He wiggled to be put down. The man’s grip was steel. Peter could break it, but he might hurt his new colony member.
He frowns.
Peter isn’t able to take his colony anywhere safe if he isn’t walking. He can’t do anything.
“Can I be put down now?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, kiddo. We gotta wait until Nigh- the police arrive.” Jason totally didn’t mean the police. Either way, it was still concerning, because he definitely needs to get them out of here before anyone arrives.
He needs down.
Peter kicks Jason very gently, but suddenly he’s being dropped. Jason stumbles to his knees. Ooh. Oops, too strong of a kick. “I’m sorry!” He yelps, and gives a soothing pat to Jason’s shoulder.
“We should go home.” Peter suggests.
“Home?” Yes. That sounds perfect.
“Yes. We’re going home.” Peter decides.
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happy!
-
Oh. Yay! He got something right. Jason wants to go home!
“Absolutely, kid. I can grab my motorcycle and take you somewhere safe.” Hmmm… no. Jason is not thinking clearly.
They are not going to Jason’s home. They are going to Peter’s home. So he can keep them both safe. (Peter doesn’t have a home.)
Peter grabs the man’s hand, and drags them out of the Batburger, with their meals in his other hand.
“No. Home.” He repeats.
“My home?” Jason asks.
Suddenly he’s
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wary, confused, nervous
-
Peter glances around for a threat. None to be found. Jason has to stop doing that.
Peter cocks his head to the side. Then he grins. “Home.” He repeats. My home.
He does need to figure out how to pick Jason up and carry him, though. He’s really strong, and could probably lift him despite being like double- triple his size. But it would be really uncomfortable.
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wary, wary, nervous
-
Why is he scared? Peter feels a flash of green and he checks around him. Where is the predator Jason is scared of? Slitted pupils land back on Jason and he sees the man’s throat move with a swallow.
Green eyes stare into green. Peter blinks, and suddenly Jason’s running. Why is he running? Where is the predator?
Peter whirls around to look to see if something’s chasing. Something isn’t. By the time he turns back around Jason’s easily ten feet away, easily gaining speed. How irritating.
Peter follows, and thankfully he is much faster than Jason, even with the fact he hasn’t eaten in a while.
Jason turns the corner of the street, into an alley. Peter catches up. There’s another sharp turn, and Peter misses the back of Jason’s jacket by an inch before the older man puts more space between him.
Peter’s feet slap against the concrete and he finally catches up fully, tackling into the older man. They tumble to the ground, Peter rolling to make sure he’s on top. Because having Jason’s back to the air is bad, because then if there was an attack he would be hurt first. He really needs to get them home now.
He hears a click from inside Jason’s pocket. He ignores it in favor of trying his best not to bite Jason. His instincts really want him to. He doesn’t. Because he is very considerate. “Kid. Kiddo.” What?
“Hm?”
“I am so out of my depth…” he mutters quietly. Peter hears. Then he speaks louder, “Can we go to one of my safe houses?”
Ugh. No. Peter doesn’t know if the safe houses are safe enough for them. Not that he doesn’t trust Jason’s judgement. Okay, he doesn’t, but- not enough time.
Peter picks him up and tosses him over his shoulder.
There’s immediately another struggle. Peter groans irritably. “Sh.”
“Did you just shush me?”
“Sh.”
Peter starts to walk towards the direction of home. “Hey, kiddo, do you know what’s going on?” What is that tone of voice for? Peter’s only ever heard it once or twice from others and usually Peter used it on victims as Spider-Man. Maybe Jason was still scared. He didn’t think Peter would be good enough to protect them.
“Going home. Protect you from… enemies.” He explained.
“Right…”
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stop! look, up!
-
There’s the ching of a grapple, a flash of black and blue and suddenly Peter’s darting into an alleyway, shoving Jason behind him. He wishes he had webs to keep Jason hidden, because there’s an enemy coming. Predator, probably the thing that startled his friend.
“Hide.” He hisses, trying to make himself big enough to keep Jason out of side.
The flash of blue and black moves across his vision and there’s a thump. Peter inspects the threat. There, standing in front of them is a lean man, a little shorter than Jason. He’s wearing a black outfit with a blue symbol on the chest. There’s a mask on the upper half of his face, concealing his eyes.
Hm. Now, is this a big threat or a small threat?
There are two sticks, possibly weapons. The guy has muscle, but less so than Jason. Jason could probably beat him up. Maybe. But Jason wasn’t a vigilante, like this guy.
Wait. Vigilante. (Peter’s one of those. Aren’t they on the same side?) That’s a big threat! The stranger could fight really well and Peter would have to abandon Jason to fight him off.
Peter scowls hard. He stands to his full height.
“Back up! Go away!” Peter spat, making it known that he is not backing down. No way. He has his colony to protect. He can feel Jason standing up behind him. He turns his head. “Hide!” He hisses at his friend. Hide, you idiot! So I can protect you!
Jason might be the dumbest colony member he’s ever had. He’s never had a colony before. He whines at the memory.
He doesn’t keep his eye away from the enemy too long, especially when he hears a step. “One step closer, and I’ll rip your head off!” He threatened. (Stop! He wouldn’t!)
The vigilante is holding his hands up in the same way Jason held his up earlier. Peter squints. They are kinda similar. Both had black hair.
“Hi, bud.” Bud? It goes down warm in his throat. Hm… “Jason here is my friend.” (Run! We can’t trust them!)
Peter turns to see Jason’s reaction. Is it true? He sees white hair bounce as the older man nods shortly. He turns back to the vigilante. “I heard you were in a robbery, hm?”
Peter frowns, “Don’t worry, I dealt with it.”
“Good job.” Yes! He did well.
He glances back at Jason. The vigilante steps forward again. Peter’s head darts back up and there’s a flash of green across his vision, “Mine!” He snaps, pushing Jason backwards, against the wall so he can have space to fight the threat.
The vigilantes words are soft and make him want to melt, but the closer he gets to Peter is the more threatening he is to Jason.
“Woah, okay, bud.” His hands are raised again. Could he take this guy in a fight? Probably. He has to protect Jason, though.
Peter glances behind him. Could he carry Jason up to the rooftop? Probably. But no webs.. so annoying.
“Bud.” Peter turns back to the vigilante, “Jason is yours?”
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hesitant, worried, protective
-
Hm… a weird combination of emotions coming from the vigilante. But none of them are threatening. In fact, all the danger has disappeared off him.
Peter nods, “Mine… I.. protected him from the threat.”
“Thank you very much for keeping him safe.” Yes, he did good.
“Did you know that he’s my brother?” Peter freezes. There’s a choking cough behind him. He almost wants to whirl around to see if Jason is sick. The man has been really quiet, for some reason. Is he scared?
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concerned, nervous, amused
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No, not scared. Not fully.
“What?”
The vigilante just repeats himself, confirming his claim.“Yes, he’s my brother.” Peter blinks once. Twice.
If the vigilante and Jason are family, and Jason is his… Peter closes his eyes. Trying to think. Gosh, it’s so fuzzy. But if he pins the dots together, then…
Peter grabs the vigilante’s hand. “Mine.” Yes, this vigilante is also his. More to protect. Although… the vigilante can fight. So he can split that duty to him as well. Perfect.
The choking sound comes again.
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amused!
-
At least Jason isn’t as nervous anymore.
“You…” he doesn’t know this man’s name. Hm. “Name?”
“Nightwing.” Good.
“Okay. We’re going home.” He grins up at his newest claim, “Kay?”
There’s a pause as Peter steps away from Jason, finally letting him up from being hidden. (This is so stupid.)
Nightwing just nods at him, “Okay, lead the way.”
Peter grins happily. “Yay! You listen.” Jason was good, but he also didn’t listen very well. And he ran off. Speaking of. “Jason, hold hand.” He held out his hand.
There’s a beat of silence. A glare passed between the two older people. Peters hand is taken. He whispers up at Nightwing, “We have to hold hands because Jason likes to run off.”
There’s another beat of pause before Nightwing starts giggling. Peter likes him. He’s very good. He listens and hasn’t ran off or argued with Peter yet.
“Listen, I didn’t know what-“ Jason starts.
“Sh.” Peter is still a little irritated at him for running off.
“Stop shushing me!”
Now he just needs to find a spot to nest. Hm… He tunes into his super hearing, filtering through the noise to find the nearest building with as little people as possible.
“Where are we headed, bud? I have a car, it could take us faster.” Peter shakes his head.
“I can’t drive, silly.” He used to be able to drive, but he’s pretty sure he can’t reach the petals.
“I can drive.” Jason pipes up, and Peter looks at him. Are you serious? Jason is a flight risk, no way he’d let that happen.
Peter scoffs. “No.”
“Bud, it’s not really safe in Gotham streets at night.” Peter freezes in place. Does Nightwing not feel safe? Is he not doing good enough of a job protecting them? He needs to keep them safe.
“I’ll protect you.” He says, firmly. He would. He sucks in a harsh breath. It’s fine. Nightwing just doesn’t understand yet. “Nothing will hurt you.”
“Never. Never, ever. Never again.” He rambles, biting back the anger that came from Nightwing suggesting that Peter couldn’t protect them. He could.
“Bud, I was talking about-“
“Mine!” He snaps again. His. His to protect. His to keep safe. He’s got it under control.
“Sh.” He shushes again, tugging the two harder.
Eventually, he leads the two older men towards an apartment building, which isn’t fully abandoned, but Peter is able to follow the sense of safe directly to somewhere perfect. He spots it easily. There’s a window to one apartment that would be perfect. He can’t see inside. But! He can’t hear anybody in there, and he just knows. This is the spot.
They’ll be safe.