Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

After the incident with the Westcotts, Peter decides he'd rather starve or freeze to death on the streets of Gotham than trust the CPSG even once more. The first few weeks are the hardest. He misses school, the library too, and even though he's clearly not the only kid living in Crime Alley, he feels terribly alone. The apartment where he and his mother lived is now completely abandoned, and Peter has taken advantage of this to make it his more or less permanent home (because nothing in this life can afford to be permanent).

On the hardest days, he visits the Wayne Foundation shelters, but this always brings up a lot of questions from the volunteers. Peter hates it, when adults look at him with pity, the hesitation clearly visible on their faces, whether to call social services or let it be. Luckily for him, no volunteer has ever reported him, although it may be because he does everything he can to never stay in one place for too long. He knows the streets now, and even though he's still young, and even though he still hasn't regained his powers, the feeling of comfort he had when he was Spider-Man and moved easily around New York City sometimes resurfaces. Although without his increased agility, Peter has a much harder time, he still loves climbing up onto rooftops to admire the view. In these nostalgic moments, he likes to feel above the world, being able to see and hear everything.

He tries to work here and there, except that of course, few people are desperate enough to need a seven-and-a-half-year-old child. To survive in the long term, Peter is forced to continue 'the little jobs' to which the system has already accustomed him. As always, nothing too incriminating, because his background as Spider-Man, or simply ethics, definitely prevent him from selling drugs to poor people in distress. So he just steals what he can afford and what he knows will be useful to him. His easy knowledge of the alleys made it easy for him to disappear when he was caught stealing a few things from a convenience store, not to mention his almost supernatural ability to blend into the darkness of Gotham. Peter knows the restaurants where the employees are nice enough to give him leftovers from the service, or those where the owners are crazy enough to throw away the week's unsold food. Since living on the streets, Peter realizes that food waste is one of the worst crimes against humanity!

Currently on the roof of an apartment with his feet dangling, Peter devoured the third portion of butter chicken that a restaurant employee a few meters below had given him instead of throwing it all in the trash. His slovenly childish style and his frayed clothes always made the hearts of young workers weak, which didn't displease him. Peter had forgotten what it was like to be a little terror who took advantage of his baby cheeks to soften his victims with his puppy eyes. The streets had taught him that cunning was always necessary to survive outside, even though he was barely 3.7 feet tall, and that if he wanted to survive, all means were good.

From his perch, he can observe a good portion of Crime Alley and the Bowery, made visible by the absence of the mist that usually obscures everything at this hour. At first, too busy inhaling his meal while listening to the police sirens echoing below, Peter doesn't immediately notice the feline figure silently escaping from a building to his right. It's only once the figure abruptly leaps onto the same rooftop as him that he looks away from his meal to stare at the young woman. Peter uses all his mental strength to hide his fear and surprise behind a cold expression, as he feels his fingers tremble around the cardboard bowl that houses his meal. The thief (because given her outfit, she can only be a thief) is dressed in a black faux-leather jumpsuit that barely reflects the light, topped with a short leather jacket and accompanied by a homemade black hood that reveals the lower part of her face. The whole thing is designed to facilitate agility and quick movements, perfect for climbing, sneaking, and fighting. Peter's eyes almost too easily analyze the suit, which is meant to be functional, to survive in the city's surrounding crime.

Their eyes meet, and Peter is surprised by her tender gaze, absent of any pity. “Well... a lost kitten.” Surprised at first, he turns his head to look for any cat nearby, but her amused laughter brings him back to focus his attention on her. A soft smile graces her face, but the action seems unusual, almost like a mirage. Something forgetful vibrates in Peter's chest, and he still doesn't know if he likes the feeling or not. “I'm talking about you, kitten.” She points at him with a strangely manicured hand, gently mocking him.

“About me?” he asks, puzzled, pointing a finger at his own chest.

“Of course I’m talking about you, kitten! Who else do you see on that roof?” She slowly approaches him, but Peter freezes in her tracks. He thinks back to all those people on the street who seemed well-intentioned on the surface, but were only driven by greed. Instinctively rising, he finds himself standing on the small ledge of the roof, agonizingly close to the edge. The young woman’s hooded face contorts at the sight, making Peter’s small body tremble even more.

“Who are you and what do you want? We don't know each other, do we?” he says dryly.

She blinks for a few minutes before sighing almost in exasperation. “No, we don't know each other, for now. I'm Selina, and what's your name, little kitten?”

“Peter.”

“Peter?” she asks, even though she was the first one to reveal only her first name. “Well, Peter, it seems we're not strangers anymore, do we?”

“It seems…” he mutters, pouting, prompting another scoff from Selina, which immediately causes his entire face to blush.

Still smiling in that oddly sweet way, she extends a hand toward Peter. “How about you back away from the edge before you give me a heart attack, right kitten?” Not having noticed how close he'd come, Peter looks back at the dimly lit street, unafraid of the heights. When he turns back to her, her hand is still there, welcoming and caring; he can't help but take it.

• • •

His relationship with Selina is…odd? The word seems right, but at the same time too awkward. Are they roommates? In a way, Peter imagines that's right, given that he's been sleeping on the sofa-bed in Selina's small living room for over three weeks. However, that can't be entirely true, given that Peter doesn't contribute to any household expenses, like rent, groceries, or their regular meals at Bat Burger. Peter wishes he could say he doesn't enjoy being so dependent on someone, but he also has to admit that he hasn't trusted someone this much since… a long time… Yet when Selina kisses him on the temple after one of their many movie nights in the living room, where Peter gorges himself so much on ‘Night-Wings’ that he might die of suffocation, he must admit that the warmth in his chest does him good.

Even though it's been long and painful, Peter has to admit he trusts Selina now. She's shown him her face, her home, the countless cats she lives with, expecting nothing from him in return. Selina has a kind heart, in a way Peter can only compare to Aunt May or Mommy. It's reassuring and warm, and some days he likes to think he's actually not so different from all the stray cats she constantly takes in. She takes care of him, feeds him when he wants to, nurses him when he gets sick, and strokes his hair when he needs comforting. Selina's apartment is like a bubble to him, and he wishes he could never leave. Unfortunately for Peter, bubbles only exist to be burst.

Sometimes Selina leaves very late at night. Even later than when she goes out as Catwoman, and often in an outfit that is not very suitable for climbing or fighting. Some nights, Peter wonders where she is going so late in Gotham. Other nights, Peter prefers not to think about it... especially after finding some Drops pills in one of the drawers in the small kitchen. It's at times like these that eighteen-year-old Peter is glad to be trapped in the envelope of a seven-year-old. He's still ignorant of some of the ugly things in this world, though Gotham has already begun to ruin what little innocence he has left.

At least since he's been at Selina's he feels like he's regained the bit of normalcy he lost along with his mother. And the fact that Selina works only at night, makes it all even better than Peter could have even hoped for when he ran away from the Westcotts. Now that he's with an adult, he doesn't have to hide when he goes out on the town when all the other kids his age are supposed to be at school, even though it's still not certain if they'll run into a police officer. Yet Peter still goes out of his way to convince Selina to take him to the library, thus getting them out of the small apartment a bit. Selina doesn't seem particularly keen on reading, but at least aside from a few students it's never too crowded when they go there.

Once at the library, he finds it particularly funny to look at the subtleties between the books he remembers from his original universe, and those present in this world. Today he managed to get his hands on “Pride and Prejudice” which appears to be a slightly modified version of what Peter knew as “First Impressions”. Although he had always loved reading, Peter wasn't really a big fan of classics, preferring science fiction or fantasy, compared to Uncle Ben who literally devoured everything he could get his hands on or Aunt May who was a huge fan of Jane Austen. So he decided to borrow the book to honor his late aunt.

Once out of the aisles to find Selina, near the computer section, Peter crosses paths with a preteen who seems immediately drawn to his presence. Embarrassed by the sudden attention, he tenses slightly but calms down when he notices that the young brunette seems more interested in his book than in him. “I'm not sure that Pride and Prejudice is a novel suitable for a kid your age, kiddo…” The voice sounds familiar to Peter, but he doesn't think much of it.

“Why not?” he asks, pouting. “And who are you anyway?”

The preteen stares at Peter for a moment, as if seeing him in a new light now. “I'm Jason,” he whispers the second part of his sentence. “It's just weird seeing my mom's favorite book in the arms of a five-year-old boy.”

“Five years!? I'll make you say I'm seven and a half, you moron!!!” Peter almost yells with obvious disdain in his voice.

“Seven years?” Jason wonders. “You can’t be more than 3.5 feet tall though…”

“3.5 feet!?? I hope, you-" but the rest of his sentence dies when the noise of the library intern's wheelchair is heard nearby.

“Jason Todd. Can I ask what you’re doing here instead of being in class?” she reprimands him, staring at Jason.

The preteen tries to defend himself pitifully; only Peter is too shocked by the name he just heard. Jason. Jason Todd!! The exact same surname as Bruce Wayne's last adopted child... It's too much for Peter, who takes advantage of the fact that the two seem too absorbed in their conversation about a certain ‘Scarecrow’ newly escaped from Arkham, to find Selina. Once he arrives at the computer section, he easily finds the young woman, who seems to have immediately noticed his pale expression. She questions him about his obvious discomfort, but Peter prefers to ignore her, pretending that he found the book he searched and that he wants to go home now. Selina stares at him for a long time before grabbing his book and bringing it to the librarian at the counter. The old man and Selina exchange a few words about a supervillain who escaped from Arkham Asylum, while Peter watches with difficulty as his book is handled by the old librarian over the counter, on tiptoe.

Once outside, Peter realizes that the clouds have thickened while they were inside and that a damp smell announces the approaching rain. He and Selina navigate silently through the streets towards the nearest subway entrance, while the young woman hastily grabs his hand as the sidewalks appear strangely deserted. The atmosphere in the city is heavier than usual and Selina walks oddly fast for Peter's short legs.

“Peter, do you have your gas mask on you?” The boy freezes as Selina questions him before he steps onto the subway to head back to Crime Alley.

“No... Why?” he asks her as she takes something out of her purse. Peter notices they are two gas masks, and doesn't understand why they would need them.

Seeing the panic growing in his eyes, Selina tenderly strokes his cheek before placing the mask over his face and clumsily strapping it behind his head. “Don't worry too much, kitten. This should be enough to keep anything from happening to you.”

She puts on her own mask, and Peter doesn't dare admit that his is too big, so worried is he that she won't tell him everything. They go down to take the subway, and once again he's struck by the few people there, but also by the other people who are also wearing gas masks. Probably a common thing here in Gotham. Except for these few details, everything goes as usual. Selina taps her foot as they wait for the subway, and Peter counts the number of seconds they wait on the platform, to avoid focusing on the things that worry him. Once the subway finally arrives, the cars stay closed for two seconds too long, which leaves Peter with a bad feeling, before Selina hurriedly takes him in her arms to pull them out of the underground. He doesn't immediately understand his gesture, but once a greenish smoke completely fills his field of vision and a sour smell slips into his ill-fitting mask, an almost irrational fear creeps into his veins.

Thrown off balance by this sudden, unfounded terror, Peter tightens his grip around Selina and closes his eyes. Once his eyelids are closed, it's almost as if he's in a waking nightmare. He hears the screams of the other passengers around him, but also discerns the labored breathing of Aunt May, bleeding in his arms. Shaken, he looks away, almost glad to have buried this horrible memory deep in his mind, only to find himself faced with a lifeless vision of Mr. Stark. Peter tries hard to calm his breathing, but his breath catches in his throat, feeling the asthma attack approaching and then vanishing without explanation. In the distance, Selina speaks to him, but Peter doesn't listen, too focused on his horrified vision of Mr. Stark's body vanishing to reveal his mother's corpse a few meters away. Grief flooded his chest as he tried to free himself from the invisible arms holding him back from his mother. Fueled by adrenaline, Peter found the strength to push away the arms holding him back before running, crying, to his mother's body.

He stands there for what seems like hours, mourning his mother, as the vision fades behind his tears. Once his mind becomes a little clearer than it was a minute ago, he notices he's kneeling on the ground with Selina holding him tightly against her. When the ringing in his ears finally calms down, and he no longer hears the endless echoes of all the people he's seen die, Peter is surprised by the cacophony of noise around him. Everything seems too loud, from the screams of the people around him to the police sirens above them, to Selina's heartbeat. Unsettled and still scared, Peter tries to focus on the sound of Selina's slightly ragged breathing, before noticing a tall, dark figure close behind them. Its footsteps are getting closer, and Peter can't help but tremble from head to toe, facing the deafening sound of its toe-capped boots slapping against the asphalt of the platform. 

Noticing his distress, Selina tightens her grip on his frail body, but Peter, too panicked, instinctively pushes her away with a strength he no longer knew he possessed. Frozen with fear, he stares at his shaking hands and then at Selina's face filled with incomprehension. His breath escapes him for the umpteenth time and his vision blurs again, as if he were about to fall back into one of those horrible visions.

“Peter!” Selina’s and someone else’s voice echoes in his skull as he loses consciousness in strong arms he knows don’t belong to the young woman.

Chapter Text

Facing Dr. Strange, victory tastes bittersweet for Peter as several purple rifts appear in the dark New York sky. He who just thought he was finally done with all his multiverse-related problems is now on the verge of his own world collapsing, all because of his selfishness. The other two Peters look on, unsure of what to do, while Strange struggles to control the increasing number of rifts appearing in the sky.

"What's happening?" Peter asks Dr. Strange.

“They’re starting to come through, and I can’t stop ‘em!” the man replies defensively, visibly tired from the effort involved in casting the spell.

“There’s gotta be something we can do!” exclaimed Peter. “Can’t you just cast the spell again? But the original way, before I screwed it up.”

“We’re too late for that. They’re here! They’re here because of you.”

A heavy silence follows Strange's statement, as Peter appears completely speechless for a good minute. “What if everyone forgot who I was?”

“What!?” Strange exclaimed, visibly horrified and angry because the young man had just proposed.

“They’re coming here because of me, right? Because I’m Peter Parker? So cast a new– ”

But before he could finish his sentence, the man cut him off, his anger getting the better of him. “Don’t you understand what’s going on here!? It’s over, Peter! A simple amnesia spell could never get us out of this multiversal catastrophe!”

“But if we– ”

“No, Peter! Just… let me think, okay?” Peter, sheepish, doesn’t dare say anything, feeling completely useless as the end of his own universe draws inexorably closer. He glances down at MJ, who seems downright terrified by the many humanoid figures appearing ever more clearly in the center of the rifts.

“I might have an idea, but…” begins Dr. Strange, his face hard and closed.

“But what?” Peter worries slightly, although he is still determined to save his world from his own mistakes.

Strange said nothing for several seconds, staring at Peter as if searching for his soul. “Peter, you can't stay in this universe. I'm going to have to send you to a universe where ‘Peter Parker’ doesn’t exist.”

“What!?” the young man cried this time.

“I could never bring myself to force you, but know that it would definitely work.” He looks away from the young man’s defeated face, to find the courage to say what must be done. “You gotta understand that would mean that everyone who knows and loves you, we… We’d have no memory of you. It would be as though you never existed.”

Only the wind answers the man's statement, and for a moment Dr. Strange resigns himself to the fact that the world is lost, before Peter gathers his courage and whispers, “I understand, sir.”

Strange nods reluctantly, giving Peter a look filled with sadness and clumsily concealed pride. “You better go and say your goodbyes. You don't have long. And... call me Stephen.”

“Thank you, Stephen!”

As Strange grumbles under his breath about how strange it is to be called by his first name by a teenager, Peter jumps from the Statue of Liberty's torch and lands next to his friends. After a heartbreaking goodbye with them, Peter can't find the strength to tell them he's leaving for good, only that they'll forget he exists. Although MJ doesn't seem to fully believe it, the three of them hug, with Ned and Peter close to tears.

Once Dr. Strange is finished with the new spell, everyone heads to the top of the statue's torch. Peter bids his otherworldly counterparts a final farewell before they vanish, accompanied by their own supervillains. Once aware that it's his turn to disappear, Peter turns to MJ to share a final kiss with her, while the multiversal rifts increasingly shatter above their heads. It's only once Dr. Strange's magic engulfs him in an orange mist and his vision blurs of its own accord that he feels the adrenaline of the fight sink like lead in his gut. Lulled by Strange's incantation, Peter slowly loses consciousness.

• • •

Peter wakes up with a start, quickly caught up in the strong lights above his head that immediately burn his retinas, as well as by the migraine that seems to pierce his skull. His head hurts to the point where it feels like a truck has had fun running him over several times, before magically bringing him back to life. So he instantly closes his eyes, before lying back down on his hospital bed (judging by the smell of disinfectant that reeks in the room and the horrible clicking of machines that resonate in his eardrums, Peter could bet his life that he is in a hospital).

The more time passes, the better he can focus on what is happening around him. In the distance, Peter hears two nurses talking about the influx of patients after a supervillain attack, further away a child who seems to be crying for his big sister to wake up, and all over a radius of several meters the discordant heartbeats of about thirty people. It is strange for young Peter to have his senses so overstimulated, but he also knows that the sensation was not so foreign to him, in another world. He remembers like a hazy dream, being bedridden for two full days after being bitten by that famous radioactive spider. Yet although his senses seem to have greatly improved, he has absolutely no memory of having crossed paths with a spider in this universe...

Preferring not to think too much about the why and how, Peter tries to open his eyes again, only a little more delicately this time. Deeply disturbed by the leds illuminating his room, Peter blinks several times to adjust to the strong brightness perfectly reflected by the blue walls, which are far too bright. The hospital room is very simple, with only one bed and one chair to his right, as well as several machines to which Peter is connected to monitor his blood pressure, his heart rate, as well as a catheter on his right hand. Having little memory of what happened after Selina and he left the library, Peter becomes slightly worried when he notices the catheter.

Too focused on his IV and the writing on the bag connected to his catheter, Peter quickly freezes when two people, who had escaped his enhanced hearing, stop in front of his bedroom door. He tries hard to focus his full attention on these people, only for the headache to return with a vengeance. He can only make out a few words, such as: "metagene," "DNA test," and other medical specifics that Peter understands without understanding, before another person comes to join them.

“I noticed Peter's vital signs are slightly up, I think he just woke up.” the new arrival announced to the other two.

“Can we go see him?” asks a man's voice that Peter doesn't recognize.

“I think it would be wiser if only Mrs. Kyle and I spoke to him for now…” replies the same calm voice from the beginning, probably a doctor.

“But, Lee I…” the rest of the man's sentence dies off, probably something happening on the other side of the door but which the boy can't pick up from here.

More noise is heard in the hallway, like a stretcher being rolled in and several people walking quickly around it. Peter doesn't have much time to concentrate on what's happening, as the door opens to let in a doctor followed closely by Selina. Noticing a slightly more familiar face, the boy relaxes slightly, although Selina seems quite tired and smells unusually of strong coffee (even though Peter knows she prefers it with milk and lots of sugar). The woman in front of her, who must be in her fifties with graying brown hair, smiles at him in a gentle way that cleverly hides her concern.

“Hello Peter, I am Dr. Thompkins,” she said kindly, a soft, genuine smile gracing her face, before gesturing to Selina. “You undoubtedly know Selina; she's the one who brought you to my clinic.”

“Hey kitten…” Selina whispers softly as she sits down in the chair, while the doctor checks something with his IV.

“Hey…” Peter replies distractedly, trying in vain to see what Dr. Thompkins is doing. “What exactly happened? I remember leaving the library, but after that… it’s like a huge black hole. I don’t remember anything.”

The two women exchange concerned glances as Dr. Thompkins cautiously examines Peter's vital signs. She readjusts the electrode on his chest several times, concentrating on what the electrocardiogram is displaying, though Peter can't clearly see the machine due to the woman standing in front of it. Wearing a serious face, she readjusts Peter's hospital shirt, then removes the electrode on his chest to place her stethoscope on it. Her face remaining stone-faced and she says nothing, Peter exchanges a concerned look with Selina, who tries to reassure him by affectionately scratching his scalp. He smiles at her, but startles violently when the cold metal of the stethoscope leaves his chest, allowing Dr. Thompkins to write something on her notepad.

As she replaces the stethoscope around her neck and the electrode on Peter's chest, the doctor asks him, “How are you feeling, Peter? Anything abnormal?”

Unsure of how to respond to this, Peter tries to find answers to his questions in Selina, who only responds with an encouraging look and ruffles his hair even more. Desperate, Peter closes his eyes to try to focus on his heart rate, but with the headache returning quickly, his efforts quickly become futile. “I— ” The boy trails off, surprised by his broken voice, which makes him feel as if he's been screaming for hours. Uncomfortably, he clears his throat, before continuing in a whisper, “I'm fine, aren't I?”

Dr. Thompkins doesn't have time to answer the question before Selina turns her face to the right to draw his attention to her. “Don't worry, kitten, you're fine. We're just worried after everything that happened…”

“And what exactly happened?” Peter asks rather abruptly, feeling as if something is being hidden from him.

The two women exchange a look that leaves Peter hesitant, before Dr. Thompkins begins to speak, “Peter, are you sure you don't remember anything?” Trying to recall even a shred of memory, the boy only succeeds in intensifying his headache. He shakes his head, instantly regretting it when the pain rises, not picking up on the two women's concerns.

“It seems that the day we went to the library, Scarecrow managed to escape from Arkham.” Selina pauses, clearly having trouble recounting what happened while looking Peter in the eyes. “When we were waiting for the subway, fear gas was released into the underground of Gotham, and your gas mask didn't fit properly... Sorry kitten, it's all my fault you got intoxicated.”

Not understanding everything, Peter simply nods, blocking out the memories of the bright green smoke that rise unpleasantly in his mind. The memory of his mother's lifeless body comes back to him, and he can't stop his body from instinctively shaking in fear. Noticing this and wanting to avoid a relapse at all costs, Dr. Thompkins places a firm hand on one of the boy's shoulders to get his attention. “Peter?”

“Yes?” he replies simply.

“Do you happen to know what a metagene is?” the doctor asks, eager to distract him from the negative thoughts that are clearly visible on his face.

“Metagene…” Peter repeats, obviously searching for where he last heard about it. “Like... Flash's superpowers?”

“Yes, exactly!” confirms the doctor. “Do you know how a person becomes like Flash Peter?”

The two women were more than surprised when Peter launched into a scientific monologue, quite advanced for his age. He explained with disconcerting precision how the 12% of the population possessing a metagene carried a DNA mutation that had the potential to grant them superpowers. Dr. Thompkins was troubled when he also mentioned the genetic nature of the metagene, as well as the fact that it must be activated by traumatic events. During this long monologue, Peter mentioned the fact that his neighbor's son, when he still lived with his mother, was a big Flash fan.

Picking up on what he had mentioned a few minutes earlier, Selina asks him, “In your opinion, Peter, is the fear gas of Scarecrow would be reason enough to activate a dormant metagene?”

Surprised by her question, Peter stares at her before answering uncertainly. “Uh, I guess?”

An uncomfortable and heavy silence falls in the hospital room, the two women visibly waiting for Peter to understand what they've been suggesting since the beginning of this strange conversation about the metagene. Lost, the young boy stares at Selina before doing the same with Dr. Thompkins. Hesitant, he was about to ask for help to understand everything, before a much too high-pitched siren sounded in his skull. Peter instantly curled up in a ball, immediately clamping his hands over his ears, surprising the two women with his abrupt reaction. The headache returned with a vengeance, while his small hands did nothing to soften the horrible siren that echoed for him as if it were coming from the corridor.

Worried by Peter's sudden behavior, Selina turns to Leslie, only to find her as surprised as she is by the boy's overreaction. She quickly regains her professional demeanor and goes out into the hallway to ask a nurse to urgently bring her noise-canceling headphones to Peter's room. However, Selina's attention is quickly drawn to Peter's increasingly erratic breathing next to her. Panicked and unsure of what to do, the young woman calls Leslie to check on Peter, hoping the doctor will be more qualified than her to calm his crisis. After several attempts to remove Peter's hands from around his ears and failing, Leslie takes a needle from the locked cabinet near the bed, before inserting it into the boy's catheter.

Nothing happens for several minutes before Peter's posture becomes more lax, and he passes out completely. Slightly relieved, Leslie repositions him correctly on his hospital bed, but abruptly stops her gentle movements when she notices the blood on Peter's palms, which is likely coming from the boy's ears. The two women exchange yet another worried look for the barely seven-year-old boy, not even imagining what Bruce must be feeling, alone in the clinic hallway.

“Are you sure the morphine will last long with its activated metagene?” Selina asks the doctor.

“I hope so…” she sighs.

• • •

The second time Peter wakes up in his hospital room, it's much less abrupt and confusing than the first. He wakes slowly this time, struggling to emerge from the artificial sleep imposed by the morphine. Still drowsy, it takes him several minutes to remember where he is and why he's there, although the memories of his conversation with the doctor and Selina seem a little hazy. Only the memory of that deafening siren remains, which leads Peter to put his left hand to his ears, only to be stopped by noise-canceling headphones. Reassured by the fact that he probably won't be bothered by noises as unpleasant as that siren again, Peter allows himself to relax a little more in his bed.

This time it's dark in the room and the curtains of the only window are drawn to prevent the city lights from breaking the quiet of the room. Although it's dark, Peter's eyes are already perfectly accustomed to the darkness and he wonders if it has anything to do with this 'metagene' that Dr. Thompkins mentioned earlier… At this thought, memories of their earlier discussion slowly return to Peter, whose growing panic is quickly halted when he notices the figure sleeping on his right side.

He's a man in his thirties with a rather massive build and very dark black hair. Initially too sleepy, Peter had noticed his presence because he had exerted slight pressure on his right hand, unpleasantly pinching his catheter at the same time. Destabilized by the presence of this stranger, Peter's panic around his superpowers deflates to refocus on this man; his brain filled with unanswered questions running in a loop in his head. Who is he? Does Selina know him? or maybe Dr. Thompkins? Is he here to make sure he doesn't run away? Only the gentle protective pressure he exerts on his hand is meant to be reassuring and strangely reminds Peter of that night when he woke up completely disoriented in this new world and his mother tried as best she could to reassure him.

The man moves slightly in his sleep, causing Peter's entire body to tense up, while a small part of his face becomes more visible from the boy's point of view. Not daring to move for fear of waking the man, Peter finds himself lazily observing the stranger's uncovered face. At first nothing happens, the boy is just bored and seeks more than anything to entertain himself or fall asleep to make the time pass more quickly. But quickly something lights up in his mind. This man... he knows him, right? That well-defined square jaw and that subtle curve of the lips... Peter thinks back to the impressive pile of magazines and newspapers he had amassed at the Westcotts' house, while staring at the sleeping man's face. This man!? It's Bruce fucking WAYNE!!!

Once he's sure, Peter immediately tries to escape. However, he doesn't even have time to try to get out from under the sleeping man, before the heimmediately wakes up. After some thought, Peter thinks that he didn't just scream in his thoughts about his discovery of the man's identity... It takes a little while for sleep to completely leave Mr. Wayne's eyes, yet Peter is still surprised at how quickly the man managed to completely leave his drowsy state. Mr. Wayne seems strangely functional within a minute, even though significant dark circles are clearly visible under his blue eyes. They stare at each other for a minute, and Peter wouldn't dare admit it, but it's extremely unsettling to finally see him in real life after collecting every magazine he could find about him for over two months.

“Peter, hum… I— ” but Mr. Wayne doesn't have time to finish his sentence before Peter instinctively punches him out, leaving the boy torn between staying there and panicking or running as far away as possible from the fainted man who might very well turn out to be his father…