Chapter Text
Jason’s mind was working faster than his motorcycle, going through every possible question. Where did things go wrong? What had made Peter so upset in New York? Why was he on top of a crane?
The likely answer to that last question left a bitter taste in his mouth and an unsightly green in his vision. Thankfully though, a green that he had learned to temper long ago. Peter, unfortunately, did not seem to have that luxury yet.
Jason intended to change that.
The two hour ride back to Jersey was blessedly quiet, with only the humming of the engine below them. The stars overhead gradually got dimmer and dimmer the closer that they got to Gotham, a sight that made Jason frown. He always enjoyed the stars, and seeing how his city drastically dulled them with pollution and artificial light made him simmer.
But he stayed quiet and calm, despite that growing frustration, all for the boy held close to his front.
Peter had fallen back asleep mere seconds after Jason had gotten a hold of him on top of that crane, and had stayed unconscious since. Now, nearly two hours later, he was still. Jason kept one arm wrapped closely around Peter, keeping him secured in place while his other hand steered the bike.
Turning off his comms had obviously upset quite a few Waynes, if the buzzing from his phone in his pocket was anything to go by. They were either calling him, or consistently spamming his text inbox. Either way, his hands were occupied. Even if they were not, he probably would not have answered anyways. He needed to focus on what was really important in the moment.
Said important thing shifted for the first time, and Jason felt his entire body go still. He listened intently, straining over the volume of the bike, for any sort of sound from Peter.
When nothing came, he slowly let himself relax. Honestly, he was not sure what would be worse; Peter waking up and panicking, or Peter staying asleep the entire time. One of them would be a sign of an overactive sixth sense, and the other would show that his sixth sense was not working.
Jason mentally prepared himself for the worst as Gotham came into view. Within minutes, he was speeding through side streets and cutting over sidewalks, tires leaving skid marks as he expertly drifted over the pavement. Peter stirred once more, and the older man had to force his body not to react, wanting to keep the kid as peaceful and comfortable as possible.
But even he knew that riding on a motorcycle while mostly unconscious was not a very fun experience. He could blame Dick for that one.
The manor is out of the question, he internally told himself, not bothering to stop at a red light and instead blazing through, a loud rev filling the nearby alleyways. My apartment, too. They’ll come looking for him there.
Jason was no fool. In fact, he regarded himself as one of the smarter members of the family, right behind Tim, Bruce, and Damian (though he’d never admit it). He knew that returning Peter to the open arms of the family immediately would be too much. The kid would only panic again.
For a moment, Jason scolded himself. Peter was no kid, he was sixteen. If Jason had been in a better spot at his age, he likely would have been offended at being called a kid too. He made an internal note to stop calling him as such.
He quickly returned his mind back to the matter at hand as he glared daggers through his helmet as he made a sharp left, instinctively pulling Peter closer to his chest to prevent him from moving in the new angle.
A safe house, maybe? But which one?
Jason wracked his mind, going over his mental map of every locked-down location in the city. A few options were immediately favorable, being far away from the manor, but not the farthest. If he went all the way away, then they would get found much quicker. The Bats were smart, and he needed to think like them to best avoid them.
Twelve minutes later, Jason’s bike came to a slow, resting halt in an alley, tucked on the side of a large dumpster for extra cover. He threw down the kickstand with his boot and wrapped his second arm around Peter. The two sat for a long few seconds, Jason letting the unconscious boy adjust to the feeling of not moving. Jostling Peter around too much would only hurt them both in the long term.
So, after he was sure that Peter was comfortable enough to not wake up, he slowly lifted himself off of the bike, carefully slinging one leg over its body to stand upright. All the while, he held Peter in a front-sided backpack carry, hands under his legs to support the sleeping teen. Naturally, Peter’s head had fallen into Jason’s shoulder, tilted down. The slow rise and fall of his torso became much more obvious now that they were not on the bike, and noticing it eased Jason’s mind considerably.
He’s not dead, he reminded himself. You got to him, he’s fine. He’s just asleep. Still, Jason had to resist every urge to shake the kid awake and barrage him with hundreds of questions. That was the difference between him and his family; he could control himself in a time as crucial as this.
Which is why he was determined to keep Peter away for as long as possible. Turning off his comm had been a bold decision, since it had also effectively turned off his tracker. But Jason had been quick, giving his family no time to object before he virtually cut them off.
Now all he had to do was wait them out while letting Peter heal, however long it would take.
Jason carried Peter into a first floor stairwell, having unlocked the door with a heavy silver key. Despite not seeming very secure, the mechanism had been made by Tim. Every few hours, the lock would automatically be replaced with another one, all in a mechanical rotation inside of the actual door itself. This led to constantly changing security that was easy enough for the Waynes to maneuver. They just had to know what key to use at what time.
The man shut the door quietly with his foot once inside, making sure that it had locked behind himself before starting to ascend the stairs.
On the outside, the entire building looked like a condemned apartment building, with metal plates over windows and No Trespassing signs on every wall. They had even messed with some internal city records (thank you Barbara Gordon) and got the plot of land officially condemned. It was scheduled to be torn down, but she would just keep pushing back the date every few months.
Inside, the walls were a plain light gray, and the floors were a darker concrete with a lackluster finish on top. It offered a level surface without being overly expensive to maintain.
The last time Jason had been to this specific safe house was years ago, before him and the Waynes had truly made up. He avoided them like the plague, but no one could hide from the joined forces of Barbara and Tim for long. When the new replacement had found him, months after his visit to Titans Tower, Jason had expected a fight. A rematch.
Instead, Tim had insulted his lackluster security and replaced the locks overnight, leaving a keyring on the counter alongside a handwritten note inviting him to dinner the next night. Jason learned two things that day.
One, was that Tim had terrible handwriting. The chicken scratch made Jason squint in disappointment, just staring at the note for a long few minutes in steaming silence.
Two, was that Tim… was trying. Honestly, the kid was trying harder than Bruce ever had, he had to at least give him that. So, Jason had steeled his nerves, and made a mental decision.
He did not go to dinner, but instead appeared an hour later to get leftovers from Alfred, who had already been waiting with the food packed away into tupperware containers. Jason considered that a win.
The man carefully shifted Peter in his hold as he made it to the fourth and highest floor in the building, opening a loose door with his hip and lifting Peter inside. With the lights off, he would not have been able to see much without his helmet. He was just glad that he had decided to keep it on.
The couch across the small living room space was old and tearing at the cloth seams, a stand-offish orange color. It had not been Jason’s first choice, but when you’re a vigilante working on a tight budget, it’s hard to shop for furniture. The unsightly (yet comfortable) couch had been paired with a second-hand rug that clashed horribly with the rest of the room. An unplugged television sat on a small wooden table against the wall, with an old Playstation off to the side.
Jason knew that in the next room over, what was supposed to be a bedroom had been converted into an armory at his own hands. Pegboards and racks lined the walls, all holding various weapons, tools, and armor pieces that he would trade in and out occasionally. He liked to keep his items on a rotation between his safe houses. It was time consuming, but worth it in his eyes.
Other than those two rooms, the final areas were the open kitchenette with gunmetal gray appliances that he had rarely used, and a bathroom small enough for him to touch both walls with bent elbows. At least it came equipped with a shower, sink, medicine cabinet mirror, and toilet. Running water was crucial in his line of work.
As Jason stepped fully into the space, and used one hand to flick on a nearby lamp, he made a mental plan of how to handle everything.
Okay, he needs to eat. I doubt this place has groceries, so that’ll have to be put off for now. At the very least, I can get him cleaned up and changed.
Jason held his breath, looking down at Peter. His helmet hid the grief in his eyes.
…Sorry ki- Peter. Gotta wake you up now.
“...alright, Peter. Up you get.” Jason said quietly, sitting the teen down on the couch. Releasing him left an empty feeling in his arms, but he refused to acknowledge it. The man pulled off his helmet, followed by his domino mask that he always wore underneath. Black and white hair soaked in sweat came out at an odd angle, something that Dick probably would have commented on if he were here.
Something Peter would comment on if he were coherent.
“C’mon, webs. No more nap time.” he huffed, shaking the kid carefully by both shoulders. His gloved grip was firm and controlled, not jostling him too much in fear of frightening him. “I really don’t feel like bathing you–”
A hard fist suddenly connecting with his jaw, sent Jason stumbling back in surprise, releasing Peter with wide eyes and outstretched arms to steady his balance. He immediately locked eyes with the awake teen, green meeting vibrant green. An ache made itself present where he had been punched, but he clamped his mouth shut, avoiding making an outward show of the discomfort. Why?
Because Peter looked terrified. So much for keeping the guy calm.
“...Pete.” Jason said in an even voice, ignoring the way his jaw strained when he spoke. That was more than a regular punch, he was sure of it. “...breathe. You aren’t in New York, and you aren’t in the manor. No one knows you’re here but me.”
Peter stared like a deer in headlights. He was pressed as far into the couch as possible, putting distance between them both. The bags under his eyes looked more intense in the warm light of the lamp across the room, and something in Jason’s heart wept.
“...I couldn’t leave you out there, Peter.” Jason said softly. “...not like this.” He let the room fall into tense silence, observing the teen like he was something to be careful of. If Peter lashed out again, there was no telling what kind of strength he would be using.
Jason had no clue how strong this guy really was. All he knew was that he could immobilize one of Dick’s arms, and apparently, could punch Jason hard enough to leave a genuine pain in his jaw.
Peter swallowed hard enough for Jason to see. “....where are we..?” he sounded afraid to ask, like a child who just knew they were in trouble.
But Peter was not in trouble, and at that moment, Jason knew that he needed to change his approach. After years of checking in on the crime alley strays and talking down panicking kids in crime scenes, he prayed that his experience would be enough.
“...we’re in one of my safe houses.” he said softly and honestly, lowering himself until he was crouched down on the drab rug. Now, Peter was above him. Mentally Jason noted that this should give Peter a sense of more control over the situation. “In Lower Gotham. I can show you on a map if you’d like?” he offered openly.
After a second or two, Peter’s right hand reached up to feel his ear. Jason noticed the exact moment that Peter realized he did not have his hearing aid- Karen- because Peter visibly relaxed. He must still really be mad at her, and Jason did not blame him.
When the teen nodded slowly, Jason rose back to his full height, holding out a gloved hand for Peter to take. With much hesitance, the teen relented and took his help, standing on two unsteady legs. Both men ignored the quiet rumble from Peter’s stomach, but Jason could not deny holding his arms out when Peter swayed a bit too much.
“Easy, now-” he urged gently, helping the teen stand steadily before slowly releasing him. “..my map is in the other room. Do you want me to go get it, or do you wanna walk with me to see it?”
Peter’s lips pressed together, and a subtle movement told Jason that he was biting the inside of his cheek. It was something that he had noticed a few weeks ago, and he could only hope that he was not drawing blood.
“...we can walk to go see it.” Peter said, voice hoarse. Jason hesitated. Food might not have been available at the moment, but water definitely was.
Idiot, Jason scolded internally. “Alright. Let’s get you a drink first though, yeah?” he suggested, smiling just a bit as he walked around both Peter and the couch to get to the kitchenette. “I’ll get us something to eat here in a bit. Sound good?”
Jason did not hear Peter nod, nor did he hear Peter following him, but when he turned around the teen was standing at the two-person island counter. His gaze was turned toward the counter, where his fingers tapped softly against the cold surface. Something in Jason’s chest clenched at the sight. He looks so tired.
Minutes later, the two were entering the armory, both holding a glass of cold filtered tap water. Jason was not foolish enough to give Peter raw Gotham water.
They approached a workbench, where Jason pushed aside whatever stray tools and parts that had been left out, giving them both space to set down their glasses. Then, he flipped on a work light, pointing it from the bench to the wall right behind it where a large map was pinned to the wall.
“We’re here.” Jason pointed to a red X, side-eyeing Peter as the teen’s eyes wandered the map. They lingered on the library and the manor, before drifting down to where Jason pointed. “And obviously everyone else is at the Manor, over in Bristol.” he explained, before pausing. “...well, Dick is probably gonna go home to Blüdhaven soon, and Stephanie to her apartment- which is over here.”
Peter’s eyes followed wherever Jason’s finger pointed. Briefly, the older man was taken back to one of his first full days with Peter. The day that he caught him and Dick leaving the Batcave, but had been too disassociated to do anything about it.
The day that they had gotten Peter his very own library card. Jason would never forget the look of pure joy on his face. Now, Peter looked numb, just like he had that same morning before Jason and Dick managed to lift his mood.
Jason was no Dick Grayson, but he would try his damndest to get Peter back to his usual happy self.
“....and we’re staying here?” Peter asked, voice sounding slightly better now that he had hydrated some. There was almost a sense of urgency in his voice.
Jason wanted nothing more than to smother him with enough warm blankets to make all the anguish go away. He’d have to throw some in the dryer.
“Yeah, we’re staying right here until you’re ready.” Jason once again smiled softly, leaning against the workbench and crossing his arms as he looked at Peter.
“..Until I’m ready for what?”
“To go back to the manor.”
There was a silence that made Jason seriously consider wrapping the kid up in another embrace.
“...And you can take as much time as you need, Peter.” The man pushed as much sincerity into his voice as possible, giving him one of those softer looks reserved for crime alley strays and Alfred. “We’ll stay for however many days, or weeks, or even months that you need. I get it, I really do.”
Jason was not sure when it happened, but one moment he was standing two feet away from Peter, and the next? The teen had locked his arms around Jason’s middle, face smothered by his strong shoulder as a sob wracked his body.
The man had suddenly become an anchor, body moving into overdrive as he wrapped strong arms around the teen, holding him tight and close. One hand pressed against the back of Peter’s head, applying a firm pressure that kept them both comfortably locked in place. Jason was the strong rock that the trembling Peter desperately needed in those few moments.
Minutes later, when Jason felt Peter’s trembling ease and his tight hold slacken, he pulled away to look down at him with a reassuring smile. “...it’ll be just fine, Pete. I promise.”
Peter could only nod, unable to make eye contact with him. Jason did not force it, instead gently pried the two apart enough to walk back into the main room. They left their half drank glasses of water abandoned on the workbench, work light still shining brightly on the map of Gotham.
“I’ve got some civilian clothes you can change into. Do you think you can shower?” Jason suggested, gesturing to the bathroom with one hand, the other held gentle on Peter’s shoulder. “It’ll make you feel better to get clean after the last few days.”
The reminder that Peter had been alone for two days once again made Jason’s chest hurt. Two days without any help.
Much to Jason’s immediate relief, Peter agreed and went to the bathroom, shutting the door slowly behind himself. Jason reminded him not to lock it so that he could leave a change of clothes on the sink. The man waited until he heard running water to spring into action.
First, he procured a set of comfortable clothes slightly too big for Peter and left them on the sink, otherwise leaving Peter to his own. After ensuring that the teen had something clean to change into, he took the liberty of changing his own clothes. As much as he loved the Red Hood Regalia, it was far from suitable for the type of help that Peter would need.
Jason fell back against the couch, ignoring the sound of a seam being pulled and instead grabbing his phone from his pajama pants pocket. He stared at the black screen with a frown and a skeptical squint, before hesitantly powering the device back on.
Unlike his siblings, he had made sure that his phone had no tracker. Jason could only be found by Oracle if he wanted to be found.
The moment that the phone connected to service, it was bombarded by buzzing from dozens of texts and even more missed phone calls from just about every member of the family. He even saw a few missed calls from Damian, which had made him double take in surprise.
He had no intention of calling everyone back, and he certainly did not plan to rejoin that stupid group chat (I mean seriously, who named it the Batchat??). Instead, he scrolled through the messages, looking for the first name that would be good enough to get the message out to everyone else.
He paused when Cass crossed his screen, and he scrolled back up. The girl had only sent three messages, the least out of everyone that had his number. With hesitation, Jason opened them.
Cass, Jason
Cass ; hi jason, i don’t remember if you have my number saved or not. it’s cassandra.
Cass ; everyone’s really worried about peter, but i’m sure you’re taking care of him. if he wants his phone, or anything from the manor, just let me know and i can bring it to a location of your choosing.
Cass ; i’ll even leave my phone at home, and come in normal clothes. that way no one can follow me. thanks, jay.
Jason’s finger hovered over the keyboard for a long few seconds as he contemplated what he would even say. She had shown some trust in him, saying how she was sure that he was taking care of Peter. He liked to at least hope that he was trying hard enough, even if they had only been at the safe house for half an hour.
Cass, Jason
Jason ; Hey, Cass. Yeah, I have your number saved.
Jason ; Think you can get a message out to everyone else? I don’t wanna respond to all the spamming that they’ve done.
Cass ; sure i can, is peter okay?
Jason ; As good as he can be at the moment. He’s showering right now, I’m trying to work out the food situation.
Cass ; i’m telling alfred.
Jason ; sh*t, no.
Jason ; Wait.
Jason ; Cass hold on.
Jason winced as the text chat was suddenly replaced by an incoming caller screen. The contact name Gramps was displayed below a picture of both Alfred and himself- many years ago, before his revival and before his death. Seeing the familiar image made his chest flutter with fondness.
And of course, no one could say no to Alfred.
“...hey, Alf.” Jason said quietly, holding the cell phone up to his ear. He was just sure that even through the phone, the older man could hear Jason’s regret.
“Master Jason,” the familiar and calming voice came through, almost immediately easing some of Jason’s anxieties. Not all of them, but enough for his shoulders to relax. “I am glad to hear that both you and young Peter are well.”
“Yeah, we’re doing alright.” He hummed, staring blankly across the room as he spoke. Some people, like Dick, tended to pace when on a phone call. Jason was the exact opposite; preferring to be stagnant. “He’s cleaning up in the bathroom.”
“I assume that you’ve provided him with a fresh change of clothes.”
“What do you take me for, a street rat?” Jason teased through the phone, smiling slightly. There was a short silence that followed his other joke.
“...I’ve missed you too, Master Jason. It is good to know that both you and young Peter are safe.” The man cleared his throat before Jason could speak again. “Now, regarding your meals over the next few days…”
Peter’s bare feet met the cold tile floor of the bathroom, sending a shiver up his spine. Honestly, he had wanted to stay under that warm stream of water forever. Its temperature was extremely comforting, and getting clean felt fantastic. He scrubbed until he was red and raw and could scrub no more.
Even more comforting though, was knowing that he stepped out smelling like Jason. The man had been the closest thing to a lifeline that he had. Jason came for him in New York. Jason brought him to a safe place in Gotham, away from the rest of the Waynes. Jason didn’t panic when Peter punched him out of fear.
Jason was safe.
Peter ran a heavy hand over his face before pushing his damp hair off of his forehead and back, clearing it from his face entirely. The feeling of it sticking to his skin was more than uncomfortable. With a light shiver, Peter crossed the very small space to the sink, where he reached over and wiped the condensation off of the mirror to see himself.
He looked as tired as he felt- maybe worse, actually. Those bags under his eyes looked intense, but that could also be attributed to the amount of crying he had been doing. By no means did he look skinny, upon looking at his body, but there was a certain pain in his stomach that reminded him that he had not substantially eaten in two-ish days. Then, he was reminded of all the vomiting he had done, and he felt sick all over again.
Not sick enough to vomit again, though. He had done plenty of that. In fact, Peter never wanted to feel sick like that again. Taking that shower seemed to have enlightened him as to just how bad things had been.
His instincts had led him throughout a New York City that was not his own, making him relive his normal life in a way that was so wrong. He never wanted to go through that again. Some part of Peter never wanted to go to that New York again.
He was sure that the Waynes would not mind that at all. In fact, he would not be surprised if they tried keeping him at the manor permanently. That thought was just as terrifying as walking around New York had been.
Peter inspected the inside of his mouth to inspect his teeth, tugging at the corners of his mouth to look at the fangs that had, by now, fully developed. There were three on each side, all around the same length. Somehow could still close his mouth comfortably, and the thought that his bottom teeth had changed as well made his stomach turn.
Then he met his own gaze in the mirror, green staring into unfamiliar green. Something had happened to him to make his eyes change, and that same something was toiling with his emotions. It was making him sensitive, and angry. It was making him go through things to hurt himself, both emotionally and physically. It was unnatural.
Peter steeled himself, hands falling from his mouth and landing on the soft pile of clothes on the lip of the sink. When he looked down, he froze almost entirely, brain computing what he was looking at.
Soft pink pajama pants, patterned with hello kitty designs, were unevenly folded on top of a large white t-shirt and a package of unopened boxers. The teen’s heart tried to leap from his chest.
Thirty seconds later, he took a deep breath and opened the door of the bathroom. Steam followed him out as he stepped on the hardwood floor, eyes glancing around the space in search of Jason.
Instead of on that god awful couch like he had been expecting, the man was standing in the kitchenette, peering into the empty fridge with a frown and his phone pressed to his ear. Peter bristled- had Jason called someone? Were they coming to take him back to the manor already?
Just as he felt panic bubbling under the surface, the sensitivity in his ears picked up the voice on the other end of the line.
“-hicken carbonara will last you if you keep it refrigerated, alongside most of the other meals I’m planning to prepare. For now, I will have Lady Cassandra obtain a suitable fast food meal.” Peter could quite literally hear the disgust in Alfred’s voice at that last sentence.
But knowing that it was Alfred on the other end of the line and not Bruce made Peter feel exponentially better. Alfred would never do him wrong.
By the little bit of the conversation that he had walked in on, he figured that Jason was in cahoots with Alfred (and Cassandra?) about getting food to the safe house. Of all the Waynes to want to help, he trusted those two the most. He was glad that they were the ones getting involved.
Jason must have noticed the steam rolling from the bathroom, because he turned to look at Peter with a little smile. The teen smiled back, and let his eyes drift when he realized that Jason had changed clothes.
His heart stuttered upon seeing a matching pair of hello kitty pajama pants on the man. Briefly, he was taken back to just after he had lost his Stark Tech suit, after the Ferry Incident. He had to walk home in his pajamas, full of shame and guilt.
But now? He felt nothing but comfort.
“Thanks, Alfred. I’ll text you, okay?” Jason hummed, ending the conversation quietly. After Peter heard Alfred bid his farewell, the man hung up the phone and dropped it into his pocket.
“He’s bringing food?” Peter asked, wanting to clarify what he had heard. When Jason nodded, Peter’s smile and posture relaxed, hands falling into his pockets. Showering had made him feel much better.
“Technically Cass is bringing food; she’s gonna meet me somewhere else. If you want anything else from the manor I can ask her to bring it, too.” Jason offered, closing the fridge and leaning back against it. He must have noticed Peter’s uplifted mood, and in turn, was being a little less careful. Peter appreciated it.
“..maybe my phone would be good..?” The teen asked hesitantly, curling in on himself just a bit. “..I mean- y’know. I still wanna talk to like, Tim and Cass, and Duke- I-I just don’t think I could handle in person right now but texting–”
“You don’t gotta explain it, Pete.” Jason cut off carefully, smiling reassuringly. “Sure, I’ll ask her to bring it. I’ll just have to get the tracker out.”
Peter was reminded of the breach of privacy, and it made his stomach flip. That was the entire reason that he had left- they had broken his trust. He really could not fault them for hiding being vigilantes, but they used his ignorance as a tool against him. They used Karen against him.
“...Works for me.” he hummed, glancing down at the floor. He shifted from being flat-footed to lifted onto the balls of his feet; a habit when he felt restless. He was not really sure why he felt restless, considering how exhausted he really felt.
Jason softened, standing upright and passing Peter to get to the couch. “Here, let’s get this situated for you.” he huffed, unlatching something underneath the cushions before tossing them aside and to the floor. Then, he took small steps back while unfolding the fold-out mattress. It would be barely big enough to hold Peter.
But he could care less- he couldn’t wait to sleep on a mattress again.
By the time Peter woke up again, which was around six in the morning, a familiar cell phone was seen resting on the counter. The teen was pulled from his drowsy state almost immediately after realizing that his phone was there, and he was fast to stumble to his feet, dragging down two blankets with him. Ignoring the mess he had just made, he shot out webs fast, which attached to the device that he yanked back toward him.
His frenzy resulted in a phone secured in his hand and a mess on the floor that he ignored in favor of checking the device. All of the teen’s worries that it may have died or been broken somehow were wiped away when he hit the power button, and the screen lit up to reveal full battery.
They had charged his phone for him before returning it. There were only six unread messages, likely because they had noticed his abandoned phone at the same time they noticed he was gone.
Still, the thought that they took care of the device in his absence made him at least smile.
Peter, Jason
Jason ; I went out to grab us some extra stuff, and to keep Dick from getting too nosy. I’ll be back before eight.
Peter, Cass
Cass ; goodmorning, peter. i’m glad that you’re okay, we all are. jason promised he’d take care of you, and i trust him.
Cass ; you should, too.
Cass ; trust him, i mean. you should trust jason, he’s good for you.
Peter, Tim
Tim ; I really hope you’re okay man.
Peter, Bruce
Bruce ; Peter, I’m sorry for any sort of miscommunication that occurred. We’d love to have you back home whenever you’re ready.
Peter stared down at the four different chat rooms, a multitude of different emotions swelling in various parts of his mind and chest. He was relieved that no one seemed mad. He was angry that Bruce thought a one sentence apology would be enough. He was hesitant to accept Tim’s sympathy. He was happy to be staying with Jason, especially since Cass trusted him.
Overall, he was just overwhelmed. Peter closed out the messaging app and instead clicked on the internet. It was there that he was immediately hit by articles describing one of Gotham’s fearsome vigilantes running off to New York for the night. It made his chest tighten in anxiety.
Jason had driven all the way to New York just to get Peter. All at once, the teen once again felt like such a waste of space. Why did he need someone to come save him? That was supposed to be his job.
Peter sniffled, refusing to let the tears fall. It did not matter if he was alone or not, he should not have wanted to cry over something such as this. It was close to embarrassing, and he could only be glad that he was alone at the safe house.
The teen turned off the phone screen, not bothering to type up a response to anyone. That would require thinking a little too hard about the Waynes and their secret, which would probably make Peter even more upset than he already was. So in place of thinking about them, he looked around the apartment.
Early morning rays peeked through slivers in the covered windows, giving evidence to a cloudless day in Gotham. Peter could only be relieved that he would not have to go out- that felt like far too much at the moment.
Pulling himself to stand up straight, the teen slowly walked around the apartment-esque space, taking in each room with calculating eyes. The kitchenette and living space were both bare, but upon inspecting the fridge, he was pleasantly surprised to find it stocked with tupperware containers of food. All of it was labeled with sticky notes, telling what the dish was and when it had been made. The handwriting was immediately familiar as Alfred’s. Peter sighed through his nose, allowing a small smile.
He closed the fridge and trudged through the short hallway, stepping into what was supposed to be the bedroom. He immediately recognized it as the armory from last night, and spotted the map of Gotham on the wall. The work light was still aimed at it. Hesitantly, Peter approached and shut it off. Mentally, he worried about the power bill.
Gazing at the weapons, armor, and various other devices that lined the walls gave Peter a sense of familiarity. Not only did it remind him of Avengers Tower, but it also reminded him just how well-equipped the Waynes were. He recognized grappling hooks, batarangs, and utility belts all displayed in various places. Peter allowed himself to run his hand over a few, the cold steel of the batarangs leaving an uncomfortable pit in his gut.
He did not linger long in the armory.
After the entire space had been explored, Peter fell back onto the pull-out couch with a dramatic huff. He was still extremely exhausted from his little New York venture, and his body was begging for more rest. Who was he to deny it? The teen was out like a light in minutes.
When Jason entered the safe house with shopping bags hooked on his arms, he had been expecting to find Peter still asleep. When he heard no movement from the room, he presumed himself to be correct, and kept his mouth quiet. His footfalls became as silent as possible, the only noise coming from the shifting plastic bags, which he set on the counter.
But then he noticed Peter’s phone had been moved. He paused, staring at where he had left it on the counter. A small frown fell onto his face as he glanced up, green eyes searching the main rooms of the apartment.
Peter was not on the couch. Jason felt his heart fall into his stomach. Almost immediately, every possible worst-case-scenario came to mind. He ran off again. He’s terrified, so he’s hiding. He got hurt somewhere that I can’t find him.
“Peter?” Jason called out, swallowing the panic that threatened to seep into his tone. “You in here, dude?” Completely forgetting about keeping quiet, he navigated the apartment, looking into every room.
“God damnit–” He hissed through gritted teeth, realizing Peter was not in either of the other rooms. “Peter!-”
A sudden thud from the living room broke him from his panic, immediately replacing it with caution. His shoulders tensed, and he was fast to grab the gun hidden in his waistband. Jason took a deep breath, slowly peeking his head around the door of the armory to look down the hall and into the main room. Upon not seeing anything of immediate alarm, he quietly slipped down the hall, finger hovering close over the trigger.
The man rounded the corner as carefully as possible, eyes scanning the room. But it was no intruder waiting for him, and it certainly was not one of his family members. Instead, Peter was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling with a confused and tired glare.
The relief that washed over Jason should not have been as intense as it felt.
“Peter,” he sighed in relief, shaking his head and clicking the safety on the firearm. The teen looked over with wide eyes, surprised at Jason’s sudden presence. “You scared the f*ck outta me- where were you hiding?” He asked, pocketing the weapon and crossing the room, holding out a hand to help Peter sit up. His heart warmed when the teen accepted without any hesitation.
“...the uh,” Peter cleared his throat, glancing between Jason and the ceiling. “..the ceiling. Apparently.”
Jason pinched his brows together in confusion before slowly letting his gaze travel up to the ceiling. He was surprised into silence when he spotted the hammock hanging from his ceiling, having been pulled taut enough to look more like…
“...a giant spider web.” Jason mumbled, staring for a few more seconds before looking at Peter once more, who had now stood fully. Peter’s earlier tone came back to Jason, and he frowned. “...wait- what do you mean apparently?” He raised a brow skeptically.
“I don’t- I didn’t–” Peter immediately became defensive, looking between the giant web and Jason with wide, awake eyes. “I fell asleep on the couch but I woke up on the ceiling, I don’t know–” he huffed, taking a small step back and crossing his arms. “I’ll clean it if you want-”
“Hey, hey-” Jason cut him off, looking and sounding just as surprised as Peter probably felt. “Breathe, Pete. It’s fine, I’m not mad at you for sleeping on my ceiling.” he huffed a small laugh, giving a reassuring smile. “I’m just confused as to how you got up there.”
“..yeah, me too.” Peter grumbled, glaring down at his wrists. Jason could just barely see the little mark on each side; the spinnerets that Peter’s webs came from. They just looked like freckles from this distance. “...I seriously don’t know, Jay. I guess I webbed in my sleep.”
“Ew, don’t say it like that.” Jason teased, turning and walking to the counter with an eye roll. “Sounds gross.”
“Oh, I’m sorry-” Peter scoffed, unable to stop the playful smile from forming on his face. “Would you rather me say that I excreted from my wrists?” he joked.
Jason fake gagged, shuddering for extra dramatics. “Just stop talking, spider-boy.”
“Spider-man.” Peter corrected.
“Spider-man.” Jason nodded in agreement, pulling paper plates and utensils from the plastic bags, alongside a box of tea bags. It was a generic Earl Gray, but Jason had hoped it would be close enough to the stuff that Alfred made. His plan to slowly acclimate Peter to life with the Waynes again had officially begun.
Just like the first time, it started with cups of tea.
“Does Spider-man want a cup of tea?” Jason suggested, carefully pushing aside the other bags to start getting a kettle ready. “Because I do, but I don’t wanna make a whole bunch just for myself.” The man passed Peter a gentle glance, and a few seconds later, the teen nodded.
The rest of the day moved fast. Peter had moved in and out of a dissociative state the entire time. It was stressful, but made easier by Jason’s presence. Everytime the teen drifted a bit too far into his thoughts and out of this world, he was reeled back in by a comforting hand or a witty joke.
The spider web hammock stayed in place. When Peter asked if Jason wanted him to clean it, the man had only shrugged, saying something about how it did not bother him. “sh*t, if you wanna sleep up there, go for it. Just don’t fall out again.” Despite his teasing tone, he had been completely sincere. It made Peter smile, a well of happiness starting to form in his chest.
It would be a long time before that happiness would outweigh the green, but it was a gentle start that Peter silently accepted.
"I think I wanna try patrolling again."
Jason paused, taken back by Peter's very sudden and unexpected remark. He had only been in Jason's care for about two days and he already wanted to get back into vigilante work? It sounded like bad news.
"...the last time you patrolled, you ran off, Pete." Jason reminded carefully, looking down at the toaster on the counter. He had been waiting for their dinner waffles to pop when Peter surprised him. "Which, I get. But it was dangerous as hell, and I don't wanna put you in that situation- or headspace- again." He declared, using the same tone he would use on the Crime Alley kids when he needed to be taken seriously.
"It's not patrolling that set me off, Jason." Peter argued with a little glare. "It was all the secrets." There was a short pause. "...besides, I don't wanna patrol alone. I was gonna suggest going with you."
For the second time in five minutes, Jason was caught off-guard by Peter. Not only did he want to patrol, but he wanted to patrol with Jason. The man felt something akin to pride swell in his chest; I could be the first one to patrol with Peter.
Still, the cons outweighed the pros to Jason. "We'd have to call the Manor." He hummed, moving to grab some paper plates from the cupboard. "Get your suit and boots." He hoped that the thought of contacting the rest of the family would throw Peter off.
"Sounds good to me." The teen smiled a bit, drumming his fingers on the small island counter. "Can you call them sooner rather than later? I'm getting restless in this safehouse." Despite the joking in his tone, Jason could tell that Peter was sincere.
Fine, if that would not stop Peter, then he would pull out the big guns.
"You gotta call the Manor, Pete." Jason declared, the waffles popping up just as he finished his sentence, like a microphone drop after some insane revelation. "I'm sure as hell not asking someone for your sh*t." He rolled his eyes.
Peter was quiet for a few moments, and Jason internally relaxed. He honestly did not hate the idea of Peter jumping back into being Spider-man, but it felt too soon. They just got him back, and he had not even spoken to Bruce. The thought of them encountering each other while on patrol, and potentially making things worse, just would not shake itself from his mind.
"...alright. I'll text someone after we eat then." Even if he had gotten quieter, there was still a certainty in his voice that made Jason bristle a bit. The older man looked over his shoulder to the teen, plating the two waffles as he stared skeptically. When Peter looked back at him, and confident green met green, Jason knew that his mind had already been made up.
How could he fault him for that? Jason set the requirement, and if Peter was willing to meet it, he would not deny him.
So, he sighed a bit, shaking his head with the smallest of smiles. "Perfect. Let me know what they say and who's bringing your sh*t." He delivered the two paper plates to the island counter, hooking his pinky around the handle for the syrup on his way. "If you get it tonight, you're more than welcome to come with me."
Peter spent the entire time that they were eating trying to mentally decide who to text. He weighed the pros and cons of each family member as he chewed, brows pinched together.
Dick was briefly considered. Even if he did not live in the Manor, he would probably be more than happy to go get Peter's suit. Still, he got the feeling that encountering Dick would result in him getting dragged back to the Manor sooner than he wanted.
Stephanie was crossed off of the list for the same reasons. As nice as she was, and as helpful as she would be, there was no telling how insistent she would be in him going home. Besides, he really was not close with her like with the others.
Tim was not someone that Peter wanted to talk to at the moment. As much as they had both tried to push their ill will away, there was still some unsettled green resentment that became obvious whenever Peter thought about the other teen. Seeing him in person could easily end in a fight.
Peter refused to even consider asking Alfred, even if he was the most obviously trustworthy option. He would feel bad pulling him from the Manor for too long, despite how reliable he would be. The man had already been such a blessing, preparing meals and sending them all over a few days ago. They were high protein too, and would give Peter a big caloric intake. His enhanced metabolism would forever be grateful for Alfred's cooking, and Peter could not wait to thank him in person, even if it would have to wait.
Damian briefly appeared in Peter's mind. He was taken back to his study sessions, teaching the kid advanced mathematical formulas while learning all about historic art pieces and culturally important symbols. He missed hanging out with Damian. The two were constantly learning from each other.
Damian's image was replaced by Robin, and a nasty green left Peter feeling a bit nauseous. He had to sip his water to steady both his body and mind.
He was not an option.
The mental image of his attacker was wiped away by two smiling faces: Duke and Cass. The spunky and quiet duo had proved over and over again to be trustworthy and genuinely good. Neither had tried hurting him, and Duke technically only lied to Peter once after that Poison Ivy attack. That already gave them both bonus points in his mind. Cass was also the one to deliver both Peter's phone and Alfred's meals.
Mentally, Peter was preparing his text before he had even finished eating. He had not even stopped to consider asking Bruce; he was never an option. For a short time, Peter could almost forget that the man even existed, and he liked it that way.
Peter, Cass, Duke
Peter ; Hi guys, can I ask a favor?
Cass ; hiiii peter, what’s up?
Duke ; PETER HI
Duke ; DUDE
Duke ; YEAH WHATS GOOD DUDE
Duke ; hi
Peter ; I kind of need my spider suit
Peter ; Jason said he’d let me patrol if I could get it, but I don’t really wanna go back to the manor just yet
Duke ; ohhhhh
Duke ; yeah makes sense
Cass ; we can bring it! Did you have a location in mind?
Peter hesitated, tapping his finger against the side of the phone while he thought. By now, him and Jason were both sat on the couch, some trash TV playing in the background while they both mindlessly used their phones. He bit the inside of his cheek.
“...do you care if Cass and Duke come by? To drop off my suit?” He asked, broaching the topic out of nowhere. It was like ripping a band-aid.
Jason paused his scrolling, glancing over to Peter in surprise. Clearly, he had not actually expected for Peter to follow through. He also had not been expecting for Peter to want someone to come over, just to drop off his stuff.
“....nah, I don’t care. Just make sure they aren’t followed.” He huffed. “It would be a pain in the ass to move all that food Alfred made.”
Peter nodded in agreement, a fuzzy feeling in his chest. Having Jason’s support felt incredible, and only motivated him further.
Peter, Cass, Duke
Peter ; Jason said you can bring it by the safe house. Lemme get the address for you
Peter ; Just make sure no one follows you, we really don’t wanna move
Duke ; got it chief
Cass ; bet
