Chapter Text
Everything around him moved with a sudden urgency, loud bright colors screamed at his vision until it faded into nothingness. The bright green receded into a soft dull ache. His eyes were blown wide in anticipation, feverishly searching.
Danger…Danger… Danger…
The green hughe softly enveloped him. The warm bubbling pool he found himself in felt too inviting- too alive.
But he couldn’t bring himself to get out. His brain wasn’t catching up. Wasn’t processing. Limbs felt too heavy, too stuck. Drowning in the reality of it all.
Small shaking hands finally manage to pull himself from the goo that tried so desperately to keep him within its grasp. The air was too thin, too suffocating with each shallow breath he willed himself to take. He opens his mouth to speak- to say something- but nothing comes out. The words are stuck in his raw throat.
Everything was dialed up to eleven and he couldn’t shake it off.
The sound of bats and water falling pounded in his ears. The smell of something burnt, something wrong, assaulted his nose and the green water behind him made everything feel so much more sinister.
“H-Hel-lo…” The broken noise of words barely reached the surface as he attempted to stand on shaky legs. “H-Help-p.”
Peter…Peter…peter….PETER!
His name echoed in his head as he remembers thrashing around in the goop, struggling to breath as the water -if you could call it that- swallowed him up. Peter?
Was that his name?
Why couldn’t he remember anything?
Why does everything hurt?
He tries to move forward but is instantly met with the cold hard stone surface of the weird cave-like structure he found himself in. The impact caused goo and dust to lift up into the air, pain blossoming under his skin as a filthy copper scent hit his nose.
Blood.
His blood.
Pulling himself up into a sitting position he assesses his wound, watching as red pools near the closing opening on his skin. Skin stitched back together at an alarmingly fast rate and all he could was sit and watch it happen.
He analyzes his surroundings carefully, keeping a watchful eye as his ears listen for anything he hadn’t heard in the past few minutes- or however long it took him to crawl out of the goo. Nothing changed.
Taking this as an okayish sign to move forward in his pursuit of exploration he gets to his feet once again, legs feeling a little steadier than before. One step at a time, one foot in front of the other, he could do this.
He manages to push a few of the rocks blocking his escape, wincing as the sharp rocks dig into his skin. Once he’s free he’s met with another problem, he smells it first. Running disgusting smelling water has his nose wrinkling upwards. He was in the sewers.
How he knew that, he had no clue.
Using the wall as a crutch he slowly starts to make his way left, he wasn't certain it would lead him to anything but for some reason going right didn’t feel right to him. Like there was something pulling him in that direction; guiding him, soft hands leading. His legs are a trembling mess by the time he reaches a ladder and he tries to pull himself up but everything is screaming at him to stop. To give into the aches and pains that plagued his body.
He knew he couldn’t stop here.
He just couldn’t…
‘Come on. Come on, Peter, Come on!’
One step at a time he pulls himself closer to the manhole cover that standing in the way of the city he can hear moving above him. Maybe then he could put the pieces together, get some food and water in his system and find some sort of clothes.
He didn’t like the cold air on bare skin.
His body was begging him to stop when he finally made it to the top of the ladder, cold metal flush against even colder flesh made him want to shut down. Made him want to curl in on himself and go to sleep. With everything he has he pushes against the manhole cover and doesn’t expect it to go flying upwards, disappearing as the coldness creeped in. He takes a second to breathe, to try and recuperate any strength he has and tries his best to ignore the hunger clawing at his stomach but it's growing difficult with each passing moment.
He starts to shake more when the chilly gotham air smacks his already cold, already gooey and wet skin and just wants to stop but something deep within his core is pushing him forward. He exits the manhole and drags himself from the sewers as he is assaulted with so many sensations. Loud sounds filled his ears, the smells were overwhelming, too much too quickly and he felt- felt like he couldn’t breath. Everything was so sharp, so crystal clear.
His eyes slam shut as he's trying to block out anything, focus on one sense at a time but he can’t. He curls into a small ball, the ground cold against skin, and it's too cold but it's grounding in a way he can’t quite explain. He covers his ears and stays curled up until everything is more manageable, easier to focus on what's around him without the loud noises cars driving, honking their horns, the gunshots, and the screaming.
When he’s finally able to move again, he's pulling himself up to his feet and is moving to the dumpster, trying to find something he can wear, to keep the heat in because this cold weather was bound to kill him. He falls into with a harsh thud and a small ‘ow’ is rushing past his lips making his throat burn as it forces out the sound.
Searching through the dumpster he manages to find a ratty discarded blanket and wraps himself up in it to attempt to keep the cold from sinking its teeth any further into him. He slowly rises in the disgusting dumpster but stops when a loud thud is gathering his attention merely five feet away, freezing in place as he takes in the sight of the man standing before him.
The figure was tall and muscular and his senses were screaming at him to flee, to run, but where would he go? This was all new. He didn’t know where he was let alone who to ask for help. So he freezes in place, unwavering as the red hooded man slowly starts to approach him, keeping his movements predictable in an attempt to not scare the child any further than he already appeared to be. If the boy's eyes were anymore dilated there wouldn’t be any blue, he was terrified it showed in his movements.
Each step he took the boy mirrored only in reverse. One step forwards was one step back. He stops when the kids back was firmly pressed against the dumpster, small frame shaking in terror and possibly to the cold, familiar blue eyes staring back at him, ones he had seen hours before and the resemblance was uncanny, the curly black hair, straight down to the lip quivering. The only striking difference was the eye shape, freckles and the obvious strands of white tufts that poked through the pitch black, not to mention the faint ring of green that highlighted the fact that he was lazarus touched.
A soft hiss of mechanical whirs and pressure being released, metal clanking when it hits the ground, “It's okay…It's okay. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”
Peter's eyes widened when a familiar buzz at the base of his skull lit up in his brain. The man in front of him looked threatening but everything that was telling him to run was slowly starting to fade away. Fade into a sense that he could almost trust him.
He opens his mouth to speak, to ask a question but the air remains silent.
“Hey, why don’t you come over here, I can help you out of here and we can get you somethin to eat. How does that sound?” Jason does his best to keep his emotions out of his voice but he can’t help it, not when the carbon copy of his big brother is staring at him with wide scared eyes, he can hear the kid's stomach growling from over here.
He takes a step back and starts to dig around until he finds a granola bar he has stashed in one of his many pockets, he starts to open it and watches in pure sadness as the kid flinches at the sound. He offers it to him but pulls it back when he notices that the boy is pressing himself further into the dumpster corner, “It's safe, I promise.” He takes a small bite and proceeds to say, “See, safe.”
Peter slowly reaches out and takes the bar quickly, discarding the wrapper below before he bites off a chunk of it, eating it like it was going to disappear if he let go of it. Jason instantly clocks the fangs as Peter shoves the rest of the bar in his mouth barely chewing it before he swallows, instantly regretting his decision when his throat is screaming at him for something to wash down the dry oats and chocolate, “Hey, slow down.”
Before Peter’s brain can comprehend what he’s doing next, a low hiss is bubbling in his chest, a warning, a threat, a promise, “Alright, I hear you loud and clear.”
He takes a small step away from the dumpster, giving him the space he was clearly asking for, “I’ll give you some distance but I’m not going anywhere. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise. I don’t hurt kids, that includes you too kiddo.”
The man in front of him seemed safe, he gave him food, gave him space, showed him his face yet everything in his being was screaming it was a trap. What kind of trap exactly? He didn’t know but nothing came for free, that was something that etched into the fiber of his being. The shoe always dropped and he didn’t wanna see what was waiting for him, especially if it was bad.
A gunshot rings out causing the small boy to crouch down and cover his ears, a slight whimper escapes almost inaudible as it reaches Jason's ears. He quickly grabs the set of foam ear plugs he keeps on him and rips one in half and holds it in his gloved hand out stretched, “Hey try these in your ears, it might help a little.”
Peter's head snaps up and he's looking at the man in front of him with a look that is screaming helplessness and Jason is immediately wanting to find whoever hurt this little boy in front of him and kill them slowly and painfully. He shakily reaches out a hand and grabs a hold the fluffy little orange pieces, eyeing them suspiciously before he gives in, shoving the foam into his ears; the loud noises fading to something more tolerable.
“Can you still hear me?” Peter answers with a nod, “Good, now will you let me help you?”
Peter is slightly taken aback by the question, but he blinks away the thoughts pounding away at his skull and slowly takes a few steps forward, letting soft but firm hands lift him from the dumpster. Jason goes to put him down but his feeble attempt is thwarted the second Peter feels the warmth coming from the man’s suit, easily sticking to him like his life depended on it. He finally caves in and allows his head to fall on to Jason’s chest, letting sleep overcome him as a safe feeling washes over him for the first time since he awoke in that goo pit.
He hated to admit it but getting the small boy back to his safe house was easier said than done. The kid currently asleep on his chest, was too small, too thin and way too skittish. Who went around dunking kids in the lazarus pit? Why did the resemblance of this little kid bear so much of his older brother?
His questions would have to wait till the morning, there was no way he was getting anything right now. He was okay with that.
Once he gets the two of them back to his apartment, Jason slowly sets him down on his bed and starts to unravel the blanket only to find that the kid is completely naked. He takes a few steps back before his body slouches, face turned towards the ceiling as a slow ‘fuck’ gets whispered. He gets a pair of Damian’s old boxers and awkwardly puts them on; trying to not think about the fact that he’s dressing his possible nephew which will be extremely embarrassing for the kid if he were to ever find out and the proceeds to put one of Tim’s t-shirts on with out waking the kid which scared him more due to the fact he didn’t even stir when Jason was sitting him up and putting the shirt over his head which would’ve woken most.
It had been so long he couldn’t remember if he was that tired after his dip in the pit.
He gets rid of the nasty blanket and covers him up with a comforter that looked two sizes two big against his figure before exiting his room, keeping the door ajar in case he were to awake in the middle of the morning, which he knew was bound to happen. Pulling out his phone, he scrolls until he finds the contact he was searching for and clicks on it. It rings a few times before the person answers, a cheery tone this late in the night was something he hated about his elder.
“Dick, I need you to come to my apartment, be quiet when you come in and for the love of god do not tell anyone. It's important.”