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jahayla-parker · 2 years

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Self-Care Compromise: Tom Holland x Reader

Disclaimer: I do not own the above video, the creator is listed in the video.

Summary: Y/n once again finds her boyfriend Tom to be overworking himself so she takes matters into her own hands to fix it.

Warnings: None, just fluff 💕(other than brief mentions of being burnt out from working too much)

Notes: this is based on many videos similar to the one included where Tommy looks so tired but still fights for the fans.

I felt it was time someone fought for him so 🥺

The ending is not rigid so that if I want to do a part 2 (such as tasks discussed for the next day, etc.) I can 😊

———————

“Thanks Mac!” Y/n says, grabbing the freshly made tea from the barista on the set of Tom’s latest project.

“No problem y/n/n” Mac waves before starting the next order.

Y/n breathes in the pleasant scent of the tea she ordered for Tom as she walks back over to where they planned to meet before they headed back to the hotel.

It had been a long day on set for Tom today. Although, if they were being honest, it had been a really long week for him.

The crew have been working him to the breaking point and instead of listening to y/n’s pleas for him to take a day off, he kept pushing through.

Tom was waiting on the sidewalk by the barricades. He was in his loose sweats, relaxed T-shirt, and beanie.

He couldn’t wait until they made it back to the hotel for the night.

Tom loved his job and his fans. But, he just wanted to rest on the couch cuddled into y/n’s side as they ate take-out and watched stupid reality TV shows while he fell asleep.

At this point, he would give anything to just not have to keep forcing a smile and pretending he wasn’t exhausted. But, as fans began approaching him, he realized he wasn’t going to get that.

Tom took a shallow breath and pasted on a fake smile as his fans came over asking for photos.

Harry felt pity for Tom as he watched his brother. Tom looked like he was going to pass out at any moment but they both knew neither one could say no or mention something about him wanting to leave.

Harry sighted hopelessly as he stood to the side of Tom and his fans. His eyes only looking away when he heard someone else approaching.

Y/N’s eyes were glued on Tom and she wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let him go. He looked so drained.

Hearing a soft sigh, y/n turned her gaze to Harry and nodded in agreement.

“How long has this been going on this time?” Y/n asked as Tom once again forced a fake smile for the fans.

This had happened nearly every day. If he kept at it, he was going to break and get sick. Y/n knew he wanted to make time for the fans, but there’s a line.

Everyday, y/n had found small ways to try and help him with this. He refused to listen to her begging him to rest, but that didn’t mean she was going to give up.

So, instead of arguing, she settled to forcing self care tasks upon him. It had become somewhat of a daily ritual at this point.

Each healthy behavior she started him doing would pile on top of the other so that she was slowly ensuring more of his time was going towards self care.

The typical routine would consist of herbal teas (especially those for relaxation) throughout the day, night time tea upon finishing for the day so he could sleep that night, a healthy homemade breakfast rather than his damn protein shakes, and cuddling while watching the reality tv shows he and Baz had watched in London to help with his homesickness.

She’d even gotten him to start using face masks (sometimes the ones with silly characters to cheer him up) and cold eye masks, weekly hair conditioning treatments she’d apply as he would wash his hair daily due to sweating all day and not being used to his longer hair, using a weighted blanket each night, etc.

While the self care plan may seem successful, there were plenty of failures too.

She had tried implementing them taking walks as it always calmed him, but each time they’d run into fans and it would undo everything.

Y/n also tried working with Nikki and Dom to send Tessa out for a week or two for an emotional support animal therapy type thing for Tom.

But, while here, Tessa was too energetic and excited and managed to urinate all over the hotel floor when seeing Tom. It only got worse from there as she chewed on his set lists, socks, etc.

Tessa only ever did these things when nervous; a rarity for her. Y/n was certain Tessa had picked up on Tom’s energy.

The warmth from Tom’s tea seeping into her palm brought y/n’s attention back to the present moment.

Tom was looking over at her in between photos, his eyes delicate but missing their usual light.

Tom’s smile for the photos and fans may have been forced, but his smile to y/n when their eyes met wasn’t.

It wasn’t his normal smile by any means, but he’d always have enough in him to give her at least a tiny smile.

Y/n gave him a sympathetic smile and sighed.

“I’ve got to do something Baz” y/n groaned.

“We can’t. People will have a field day with it and will attack us” Harry frowned.

Y/n nodded and felt a small wave of hope upon seeing the last fan thanking Tom and leaving.

She let out a sigh of relief and handed Tom the tea with one hand while the other went behind his back to hold him to her.

Tom let out a deep breath as he tucked his head into the crook of her neck.

“Tommy, we’ve got to figure this out. You’re overdoing it” y/n says as she feels Tom’s lip quivering on her shoulder.

Tom was silent but nodded his head against her skin.

Y/n smiled softly, glad he was at least on the same page now.

“Okay, so here’s the plan” she says, stepping back to look in his eyes.

Tom lifted his eyes and y/n’s heart broke even more as she noticed his watery gaze.

“Oh love” y/n frowns, reaching up to stroke his face.

“I love you” Tom whispers, his voice weak.

“T, I love you too. We’re going to fix this. Tonight though, let’s just go home and-“ y/n says, running her thumb gently under his eyes.

However, her instructions were cut off when another group of fans approached.

Tom closed his eyes briefly to compose himself so they wouldn’t see.

Y/n sighed and held his face in her hands, “baby, you do not need to do this”.

He shrugged and sighed before forcing on a smile, “do I look okay?”

“No” y/n said causing Tom to freeze in shock.

“Tom you’re always gorgeous. But no, you don’t look okay. Because you’re not. I’m done with this, I’m handling it. Now” she says, letting go of his face and placing her hands on her hips.

“Love, I appreciate it but I’ll manage” Tom says as a yawn ironically escapes.

Y/n gives him a knowing look and he bites his lip. He is beyond appreciative of her and her protectiveness over him.

However, he knows his publicist and agents would lose it if he told fans that he didn’t feel like doing photos.

He’d told her this in the past and she argued that she could do it herself then. Tom then told her that he didn’t want her to get hate from the fans even though he appreciated the offer.

While looking into her eyes, Tom realized she was past the point of caring what happened to her anymore.

It was a feeling he knew well. Whenever people would get too close or aggressive to her in public, he was the same way.

“Hey guys” y/n said, trying to sound like she was in a good mood but also demonstrating she was needing them to listen.

The fans greeted her and then promptly asked to speak to Tom.

Y/n shook her head, making eye contact with Harry and nodding towards Tom’s security guard.

Harry nodded once and walked over to explain to the security guard what needed to happen.

It was clear to Baz by her body language that she was done with Tom being overworked and wanted to ask the fans to give him space and time.

Harry told the guard he wasn’t exactly sure if y/n wanted him to help should she get hurt in response or if she wanted him to help get Tom out of the area instead. He had his suspicions and upon looking back at her, she nodded her head backwards in nonverbal confirmation that she wanted Tom out.

Y/n had been calmly trying to explain to the fans how hard Tom had been working. She was hoping they would then understand how he was feeling and let him be.

And, some of them did. Others did not get the point and instead cheered and still asked for photos with him.

Upon the security agent approaching Tom, y/n sighed and explained to the fans he would not be staying today.

The fans began mumbling and arguing but it wasn’t clear what they were saying.

Tom’s security had him gripped by the upper arm but he was defiantly staying planted where he was.

He was not going to leave her.

Tom whispered in argument to his security that he would not be leaving until they got her out of her.

Y/n turned around and used her eyes to plead with him to leave. Once he was in the car, she was planning on thanking the respectful fans and then joining him.

But, despite his very visible exhaustion and desire to leave, he wouldn’t part from her side.

Tom tried to get closer to her but his security had a firm grip on him.

Just as y/n was about to rush her thank you message to the fans so she could drag him to the car herself, she noticed the guilty look on his face and saw his muscles twitch the way they do when he started getting a headache.

It was only then that y/n realized how loud the fans/scene was.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped closer to the fans, Tom’s fingers instinctively reaching for her and brushing against her wrist in an attempt to stop her.

Y/n turned her head slightly to see him and blew him a soft kiss before facing the fans again.

“Hi guys, please try to speak softer” y/n says, waving at them to get their attention.

Some of the calmer fans complied, but the others only started asking more questions.

“Please. I know you guys want to see Tom and he loves you all. But his head is hurting so loud noises as great as it is to see how excited you all are, it is making it worse” y/n sighs and the fans instantly stop their comments.

“He’s been working so hard on this project for you guys and as much as he’d love to have time to spend with you all, he needs to rest. He’s been pushing through daily and it isn’t good for him, so please respect that he is going to be leaving right now” she adds, the fans all seeming to hang onto every word.

“Tom wouldn’t deny you guys the chance to meet with him, even when it is detrimental to his well-being. So I’m stepping in to do that for him. Feel free to respond as you wish to that. But, we are leaving now to get him home to rest either way. I just plead that you realize he needs this but that he still appreciates you all. Thank you” y/n says, turning to face Tom.

Tom can feel the tears in his eyes again as his girlfriend pleads with his fans and soon enough his vision of her is clouded and blurry.

Tom shakingly reaches his hand out to her as she approaches him.

He gives her a grateful smile and kisses her cheek when she’s close enough.

“Y-you.. thank you darling” Tom whimpers, slipping out of the guards grip and into her embrace.

“I’m always here T, regardless of who I have to piss off to do so” she says, holding him closer to her as they walk to the car.

As y/n walks, she keeps her eyes down on the beautiful boy holding onto her, his head tucked down to rest on her chest as they make their way to the car.

“Here” y/n says, reaching for the cup of tea that is awkwardly pinched between his arm and her body.

Tom looks up and shakes his head, “I want it”.

Y/n giggles sweetly at him and nods, moving her hand from his cup and then up to his head as she starts stroking his hair.

Tom blushes and gives her a soft smile; genuine but still minimal due to his exhaustion.

“Why don’t you sleep baby?” Y/n whispers as Tom lays his head on her shoulder when they get into the car.

Tom’s eyes remain slightly closed due to the sheer weight of them at this point, but they never leave y/n’s face.

“‘m wanna spend time wi’ you” Tom says, his accent causing his words to blend excessively.

Y/n grins over at him and kisses his cheek.

“Rest on the drive and I’ll wake you when we get to the hotel” she assures him.

Tom lovingly nods and lets his eye completely close.

Y/n smiles down at him, happy he is finally sleeping.

She doesn’t risk kissing his cheek as she doesn’t want him to wake up so she settles for lowering her head to rest on his as he snores softly.

Since her head is resting on his, she can’t see his face so she lets her eyes settle on his hand laying on her thigh.

She smiles as she sees the rings she bought him starting to show signs of wear from how often he has them on.

One of the rings she got him -his favorite ring- has an engraving on it facing his palm. By now, it is slightly faded as he tends to rub over the engraving with his thumb when nervous or missing her.

Y/n makes a mental note to take it to the store tomorrow while he’s on set and therefore can’t have it on.

Usually Harry has it on him so when Tom’s between shoots or scenes he can put it back on briefly.

You’d think it were a wedding band with the way he treats it and always wants it back on, but it’s not.

That doesn’t stop him from being enamored by it as it holds an important meaning to him.

Not only is the ring from the woman he loves more than anything in the world, it also has a special message on it.

The engraving on the back of this ring is the coordinates of where they first met.

She knew she’d have to tell Tom she was taking it from Harry because he’d panic if he didn’t have it when he went to put it on between takes.

She’d prefer to do it as a surprise for him, but she’d settle for him being relaxed.

Hopefully though, there will be a longer scene that would take an hour or so to get through so she could sneak it back in place before he’d be done.

“Are you scheming?” Harry whispers, turning to look back at them from his position in the front seat.

Y/n snaps her eyes up to him and smirks, “no. Not technically. But I’d like to get his ring re-engraved and cleaned tomorrow as a surprise”.

“You think he won’t notice it’s gone? Y/n/n he almost yelled at me when I left it in the trailer instead of on me once” Harry laughs quietly.

Y/n rolls her eyes and turns her head to kiss Tom’s head softly now that she’s sure he’s in deeper sleep and less likely to be prompted to wake up.

“It shouldn’t take more than thirty minutes. Is there any scenes we can take advantage of?” She asks, stroking Tom’s hair.

“You two are cloyingly endearing” Harry groans despite a smile on his face, “yes we can make it work”.

Y/n smiles and whispers a soft thank you, briefly looking up at Harry.

Harry nods, “thank you. For all of that, and this, and everything” his arms waving around as if pointing to the different scenes.

Y/n blushes and tucks her head closer to Tom’s as they continue their way to the hotel.

———

“Okay, so we’ve got a panda one, a cat one, and a… I think it’s a unicorn.. one” y/n says, holding up the three face sheet masks to the boys.

Tom smiles up at her from his position on the couch. When they got back, y/n had asked him to get into more comfortable clothes after he took his desired shower while she went and got them all takeout with Harry.

Harry had entered the living room before her so that he could set the food down as she went to grab the face masks.

“‘mm either love” Tom grinned as he shuffled in his seat so she could join him.

“Okay, unicorn it is” y/n giggled, tossing him it. “Baz?”

“Panda obviously” Harry shrugged and say down next to Tom.

“Eh, that’s y/n/n’s spot” Tom whined, shoving his brother.

“Tom it’s fine, I want to change first. So, he can sit there for a moment” y/n laughed, trying to have him compromise with Harry.

Harry smirked. Y/n and Tom were both certain he’d taken her seat on purpose to start trouble but after the chaos of today, neither cared to argue.

——

Tom looked up from his dinner as y/n walked back into the room wearing his sweats and her sleep shirt, a smile forming on his tired face.

Y/n smiled at him and kissed his forehead as she grabbed her to-go container and settled in next to him; noting Harry had moved to his own seat.

Tom adjusted the blanket he had until it covered her shoulders and she leaned against him to rest her head on his shoulder as she slowly ate.

Tom sighed in bliss as he pulled her closer with his free hand as he took another bite.

He was so thankful to be home and resting. He had only her to thank for making that possible. And he had, a lot.

It felt like he was thanking her each and every single step up the stairs to their hotel room.

She didn’t need his gratitude, she just needed to know he was okay and safe. Tom however, needed her to know how much he appreciated it.

The compromise? Her accepting his compliments and grateful sentiments anytime he came up. Tom happy knowing she was aware how he felt and showing his appreciation through nonverbal cues instead.

—-

While the three of them were watching tv, Harry stepped out of the room for a moment to take a call.

“Love?” Tom asks tenderly, his fingers dancing over y/n’s hand.

Y/n hummed in response, looking over at her boyfriend.

“Are they being kind?” Tom whispered, pointing to her phone.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows briefly until she realized what he meant; the fans on the internet.

She nodded, stroking his face as she reassured him “actually yeah. Obviously they were understanding you need a break, which is good because if they hadn’t been I probably would have been banned from Twitter…”

Tom blushed and laughed in agreement. There was a reason he never used Twitter.

“But they also haven’t been as bad as I was expecting towards me” she shrugs, “I mean even when nothing happens we both get random hate comments, but this isn’t anything drastically more than normal”.

“I’m glad… but there should be a normal” Tom frowns snuggling closer to her warmth.

Y/n hums in agreement as she plays with his hair. It’s still silky but he could use another conditioning treatment tomorrow.

“Hey, uhh, y/n/n, have a sec?” Harry asks, re-entering the room.

Tom gives Harry a questioning look but y/n simply nods and kisses Tom’s cheek as she detangles herself from him.

Tom pouts as he watches her cross the living room to Harry.

Harry whispers something to y/n who only nods and takes the phone from him before stepping out.

Tom glares at his younger brother, “who is it?”.

Baz laughs and rolls his eyes, “mum you Div. She wanted to talk to y/n for a moment”.

—-

“No dear, I’m completely sincere about this. I cannot express how relieved you made me today. I’ve been seeing that look of exhaustion on his face for days but he would not listen to me” Nikki states.

Y/n bites her lip, feeling guilty that Nikki thinks Tom is safe with her there even though he was fighting her on this matter.

She sighs, “yeah… to be fair. He wouldn’t listen to me either. He’s been a bit stubborn”.

Nikki laughs, “he usually is. Harry told me that Tom’s been doing self care things though because of you. So even if he just started listening today, at least his care for you caused him to cooperate”.

Y/n fights a blush and smiles to herself, “I’m really happy he did, he was stressing me out. I hate seeing him overextend himself”.

“I know you do dear. We are so blessed that you guys have each other. Please be sure you’re not overdoing it either, even if with the intent of helping him” Nikki pleads.

“I promise, I’ll be careful” y/n agrees.

“Good because we care about you both and you guys need each other. I will let you get back to your night, I just wanted to thank you verbally” Nikki says, referring to the fact the two had texted on this matter earlier today.

“Always. Did you want to speak with Tom?” Y/n asks, turning around to walk back inside. “He’s awake but relaxing on the couch presently”.

“Oh, sure then. Thank you y/n. Love you dear” nikki says, a smile evident from her tone.

“Love you too, here he is” y/n says, handing the phone to Tom who hasn’t left the couch.

Tom smiles at his girlfriend and tugs her hand to get her to sit with him.

As Tom talks to his mom, his grip around y/n tightens as he sinks further into the couch.

Even if Nikki was mostly scolding him for not taking better care of himself, speaking with her, while holding y/n was everything to him in that moment.

He had the most amazing support system and wouldn’t trade it for anything.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland fluff #my writing #tom holland x y/n #tommy baby #Tom holland x gf!reader #Tom holland tired #Tom holland fans #Tom holland TikTok #Tom holland self care #Tom holland sad #Tom holland hurt comfort

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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

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