Chapter Text
Damian was a lot like Bruce in many ways. It wasn't obvious when he first arrived at the manor but as he (mostly) shed his past murderous tendencies, the similarities began to shine through. He had the same analytical mind, the same determined set to his shoulders, and the same striking black hair. He also shared the same stubborn attitude, unwavering in his decisions once he made them.
Of course, over the years Damian and Bruce have had their fair share of arguments, whether that be over Damian's stab-first-ask-questions-later approach to vigilantism or his disdain towards Tim. Despite this the duo had still managed to bond as father and son and achieve a sort of peace within the manor. No one was happier with this peace than Alfred, who had grown tired of pulling stray daggers from the furniture. It was his steady insistence that led Damian to finally warm up to Tim, both boys finding common ground in their few shared interests.
Now freshly 14 and seeking a new addition to round out his menagerie (and to fill the silence left by his sibling's departure to Gotham University), Damian decided that he wanted another pet. While he had always been passively interested in spiders, it was only then that he began to seriously consider them as an option. After all, they were fearsome hunters, adept at problem solving, and although no one else in the family seemed to think so, surprisingly cute. It only took a single night hunched over a book in the library looking at pictures for Damian to decide that a tarantula would suit him perfectly. There was only the matter of convincing Bruce, who was far more skeptical about the idea.
Damian, undeterred by something as trivial as his father's mild trepidation towards spiders, jumped head-first into research. He made detailed write-ups of the best habitat enclosure, the necessary diet, temperatures, humidity, and everything needed to keep a tarantula happy.
When Damian first brought these aspirations along with his 50 page care plan to Bruce, the immediate answer was a strong 'No', but Damian was persistent and patient. He knew his father was weak to his own children and couldn't deny them anything for long. Least of all when he used his ultimate trump card and swallowed his own pride to flash sad eyes at him.
After only three months of wearing him down, Bruce finally caved to his son's request, promising that we would allow the boy to keep a spider, so long as he took care of it and didn't allow it wander.
Although he couldn't have predicted the type of spider Damian would want to bring home, he certainly should have suspected, considering his previous track record.
That night's patrol had started normally, or at least as normally as patrol could be in a city like Gotham. Batman and Robin had already stopped numerous crimes and were beginning to wind down by 3am. The only reason Damian was even allowed to be out so late was because it was Friday, and he would be forced to take off the next day and engage in what Bruce called 'normal teenager activities'.
Just before Batman could call it a night, however, a sharp bang cut through the Gotham night sky, sounding from a nearby alley. The duo rushed over, weapons at the ready and prepared for a fight, but what they saw stopped both of them in their tracks.
If Damian had to choose a word to describe the half-spider boy, no older than 10 and clothed in scraps of fabric, currently digging around in the dumpster below, it would be precious. He watched, captivated, as the spider child withdrew from the dumpster, clutching a half-eaten moldy burger in small blue-tinged fingers. Six fuzzy spider legs sprouting from his back curled towards him as he began to wrap his bounty in silk and oh, those were paws, those were tarantula paws.
Bruce on the other hand was having a mild crisis. He certainly wasn't the biggest fan of spiders but he never thought he'd see the day he described one as adorable. He held his breath as he watched the child pause his weaving to raise a fuzzy leg and wipe what appeared to be tears from two of his four eyes, each an endless pool of black ink. Bruce knew that he wasn't 'beating the allegations' as his children put it when they pointed out his adoption tendencies, but he still didn't anticipate the strong urge that rose within him to scoop the child up in a blanket, bring him home to Alfred and ply him with food.
Damian who had seemingly sensed his father's dilemma wasn't surprised in the slightest, after all, he wasn't the only one feeling lonelier in the quiet manor. With Tim, Steph, and Duke off at university, Dick spending most of his time in Blüdhaven, Cass in Hong Kong, and Jason still avoiding him like the plague, Bruce had become a bit of an empty-nester. Damian knew it was only a matter of time before his father brought home yet another stray, but this time, if he played his cards right, it would be a mutual decision.
Before either of them could make another move the spider child suddenly looked up at them, making direct eye contact. As unsettling as it was to be spotted so easily, it didn't end there. They both watched in fascination as two of the child's spider legs rose in what Damian knew to be a threat display. The child let out a viscous hiss, flashing large fangs dripping with venom, clutching the pitiful burger to his chest.
Bruce made to jump down into the alley, Damian right beside him, but just as they landed in front of the child, he spooked, skittering up the opposite wall with surprising speed and disappearing over the ledge. The duo quickly grappled up to the roof after him but there was no trace. It reminded Bruce very much of the real spiders that seemed to apparate the moment anyone turned their back.
Damian, frustrated with the disappearance but determined nonetheless, turned to Bruce, ready to make his case.
"Father, I have decided what spider I wish to bring home."
Bruce, seeing the direction his son was going, pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a deep sigh, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders.
"Robin, he's a child, not a spider. You can't just bring him home"
"He's a spider child, and you seem to have no qualms bringing random children home. Besides, I am not blind. I see that same loathsome look in your eyes whenever we pass by the orphanage."
Bruce offers another weak excuse, trying to convince himself more than Damian that kidnapping another child from the streets would be a bad idea.
"We don't know where he came from or if he has parents or guardians looking for him."
Damian scoffs derisively at this, seeing through Bruce's ploy and plowing right through it.
"It does not matter where he came from! What sort of incompetent parents would allow their young child to wander the streets of Gotham, let alone one that possesses visible meta traits?"
He was practically yelling as he gestured down to the alley, fury clear in his words.
"We could both see his ribs through that pathetic excuse for a shirt, even from up here! Furthermore, spiders are cold-blooded, it is obvious that he is struggling to thermoregulate. Whoever his worthless guardians are have failed to meet his basic needs and thus should have no say in whether or not we take him instead."
Damian's posture softens slightly as he finishes his tirade and crosses his arms, glaring angrily at the concrete of the building ledge.
"You promised."
Bruce knows he's lost once his son utters those words. He did promise (and he was feeling a bit lonely with so many of his children gone). His posture softens as well and he sets a gentle hand on Damian's shoulder, staunchly ignoring the fact that he was about to plan a kidnapping with his son as an active accomplice.
"Alright chum, but we won't go into this blind. We need information and a plan."
Damian nods, determination settling into his gaze, mind swirling with possible ways to abscond with the child. It would be hard to simply set a trap, spiders were quite crafty and the child seemed to have good senses, as he realized they were watching, even while concealed.
Judging by the earlier threat display, simply talking to him most likely wouldn't work either, although Damian wasn't sure if it was simply triggered by the two of them interrupting his meal or if he truly felt threatened.
They would also have to watch out for his fangs and venom, especially since they didn't know if it was deadly. The safest option would be to lure him to a spot and keep him still long enough for a tranquilizer to be used, but that might destroy any future trust.
Bruce, who had also come to the same conclusions, was already running through scenarios and forming contingency plans in his head as he turned towards the next building and fired off his grappling gun.
As father and son sat in the peaceful quiet of the Batmobile later that night, they both came to an understanding. They would be in this together. Of all the traits Bruce expected his son to inherit, his constant acquisition of orphans was last on the list, but he found that he couldn't complain, not with the way he had already begun thinking of which room he would give the boy, or if he would be social and affectionate like his eldest, or more introverted like his youngest.
Damian couldn't complain either. He would be getting both a spider and a new little brother. It would be his responsibility to protect and look after the child, just like Dick had done for him. As the Batmobile approached the Batcave, Damian idly realized that he would have to revise his care plan.
~
Peter didn't know exactly how he ended up in the hellscape he now knew to be Gotham, but he thinks it had something to do with his death.
He knows he died, alone, cold, and hungry in that wretched room. He distinctly remembers the feeling of his stomach eating him alive and his organs shutting down, but after that there was nothing.
Peter had spent most of his life in that tiny room and wanted nothing more than to escape and never lay eyes on it again, but as he scrambles into the ventilation system of a seemingly abandoned apartment building, still clutching the meager ration, he starts to reconsider.
Even if his handlers were cruel, even if the room wasn't warm or humid enough to be comfortable, even if he had died there, it was still the only home he'd ever known.
Peter knew that if he behaved, learned and trained diligently, and never complained, then he would at least be given food and clothing, and be allowed to keep his nest.
His nest. God, Peter missed his nest. It was small and pathetic but it was his, scraped together using his own silk and covered with a single old moth-eaten blanket.
He had tried to make a new one deep within the vents of the building he was currently holed up in, but it wasn't the same. He doubted it would ever be the same.
Despite the feelings of homesickness, Peter settles into the tangle of webs, idly biting into the silk casing and slurping the liquefied contents as he remembered the large man bat and his brightly colored sidekick.
He wasn't quite sure what to think of them. On one hand they hadn't given his senses any indication of hostility, even though they had been watching for a while, but on the other, they did interrupt his meal. Even his handlers left him alone while he was feeding, something about being uncomfortable with the way he ate.
He never let their discomfort bother him though, there was nothing he could do about the way he was created. If anything it was their own fault.
While his handlers refused to tell him too much about his creation directly, and would punish him if he asked, Peter knew he was around 45% spider.
He could hear the scientists gloating about it whenever they talked about their "Magnum Opus" and how much money it would make them.
'Too bad they're all gone now'.
Peter finishes off his meal and stuffs the remaining silk into his mouth, swallowing it whole before bringing up his fuzzy legs in an attempt to groom himself. Recycling was important. While he hadn't stuck around long enough to memorize their scents or heartbeats, he would still try his best to avoid the man bat and his sidekick.
Although they hadn't shown any hostile intent toward him, Peter could tell that they were still dangerous and he couldn't be sure what their true intentions in pursuing him were.
Despite the possibility that the two may be searching for him, Peter resolved to go back into the city tomorrow and look for more food and information (and maybe try to find a new blanket for his nest). With that thought, he let his legs curl inward and fully settled into the silk for an uneasy nights sleep.
~
Peter was awoken just an hour later by the feeling of a loud thud vibrating through the building. His first thought was of how cold he was. He'd have to be careful if he didn't want to slip into hibernation, especially since food was limited. His second thought was of the apparent intruder. He should probably go see who it was.
Pulling himself from his makeshift nest, Peter silently creeps through the ventilation, moving slower than usual and fighting drowsiness before the strong smell of blood hits him.
A loud pained groan accompanies the scent, echoing through a nearby vent cover, and Peter creeps just a bit faster. If someone was hurt, he would do his best to help.
It would still never make up for the blood on his hands.
He arrives at the vent cover in question and peeks through the bars, taking in the oddly lived in space of one of the apartments. 'Looks like the building's not as abandoned as I thought.'
Collapsed face down on the floor was a large man clad in a leather jacket who, on further inspection, was currently bleeding out. Peter could see blood quickly leaking from what must be a large wound, staining the hardwood. He also spots a red helmet and discarded mask thrown haphazardly across from him.
He quickly removes the vent cover and lowers himself into the apartment on a web strand before crawling over to the man and turning him over to see the wound clearly.
The man's toxic green eyes clouded with pain lock onto him immediately and widen in shock.
"What the fuck?"
Peter clicks at him in what must read as a scolding tone as he moves the man's hand from his wound and begins packing it with his own silk to stop the bleeding.
"No, seriously, what the fuck??"
He can feel the man attempting to sit up, but Peter quickly pushes him back down with two of his extra legs, letting out an annoyed chirp. If he wasn't careful the man really would bleed out.
Sensing that he was stuck for the time being, the man relaxes and accepts his fate.
"Alright, cool. Just some spider kid in my house patching me up with webs."
At that, Peter pouts at him even more.
"This is my building!"
The man startles at the garbled, cacophonous sound of his voice but doesn't comment on it. Peter knew it was weird, his vocal chords weren't built for human speech after all.
"Kid, I literally own this building."
Peter deflates a bit at that. If the man really did own the building then he was technically trespassing. (He ignores that fact that he would still be trespassing either way). He probably didn't want a creepy spider crawling around in his vents.
Despite his mounting sadness at the thought of having to destroy and move his new nest, Peter finishes wrapping the wound. Once satisfied he turns back toward the open vent, ready to depart.
"M' sorry, Ill leave."
With a heavy grunt the man finally sits up and sets a hand on his shoulder.
"Kid, no, I didn't mean it like that. I don't mind if you stay in the building or the vents or whatever. Just...don't bring any trouble around."
Peter turns back to look at him, unsure. He listens intently to his heartbeat and searches his eyes for any hint of dishonesty before asking in a small voice, wringing his hands together.
"Really?"
He can see the man's eyes soften as the green shine fades away, and Peter distantly realizes how scraggly he must look with his greasy hair, and tattered clothes.
"Yeah, sure, not like I'm hurtin' for space. What's your name?"
Peter perks up immediately, chittering happily. He wouldn't have to move his nest!
"M' Peter, I won' bother you, promise! My web's in the vents."
The man chuckles at his enthusiasm, ruffling his hair.
"It's fine kid. I don't mind if you bother me, just warn a guy next time you decide to drop in. I'm Jason by the way."
Deciding that he was done with words for the day, Peter grins mischievously and chirps at Jason instead, before he's interrupted by a loud growl from his stomach.
Jason braces a hand on the couch and heaves himself to his feet before beckoning Peter after him as he stumbles to the kitchen.
"I haven't stocked this safe house in a while, but there should still be something in here at least."
Peter idly attaches a few legs to the fabric of Jason's pants and chews on his still-blue fingers as be watches him inspect the contents of the fridge.
Jason eventually pulls an opened bag of dino nuggets out of the freezer and scoffs, muttering profanities about someone called 'Dickwing' before pouring the entire bag onto a plate and tossing it into the microwave.
Peter's eyes light up as he catches sight of them. He'd only ever been given raw red meat, just enough to prevent him from starving while keeping him complacent. He'd never seen any sort of food like this.
Once the microwave beeps, Peter climbs up Jason's leg like a tree to get a better look at the food. As soon as he sets the plate down on the counter Peter is snatching a nugget and stuffing the entire thing in his mouth, crooning in satisfaction at the warm greasy flavor. It vaguely reminded him of the old burger but it was way warmer and a lot less moldy too.
Jason lifts him up, being conscious of his extra limbs and sets him on the counter as he starts in on the rest of the plate.
"Geez kid, when was the last time you ate?"
Peter glances at Jason with his mouth stuffed full and pointedly ignores him.
The large man simply shrugs and gives his hair one last ruffle before limping back to the living room, collapsing on the couch, and promptly passing the fuck out.
After finishing off the last Dino nugget and giving himself another quick groom, Peter slides off the counter and makes his way to the living room as well before jumping back into the vent.
He's glad he met Jason, and he's extra glad Jason didn't die. Not only had the man not hurt him or called him disgusting, but he'd even given him Dino nuggets. That basically made him a saint in Peter's book.
~
The next day, Peter was back out in the city, but he wasn't particularly happy about it. There was a much more noticeable chill in the air and Peter could smell snow on the horizon. Despite his displeasure, he still needed food. Curse his metabolism.
Jason wasn't in his apartment when he woke for the second time and Peter didn't feel right scavenging from his kitchen without permission, so dumpster diving it was.
So far he'd found a grimy slice of pizza, a burnt bread roll, a fly-ridden hotdog and some suspiciously smelly chicken. All in all, a good haul, but his stomach was starting to hurt.
Peter sits on the edge of the building he was currently perched on, deciding to forgo anymore dumpster food and simply watch the sunset. Before Gotham, he'd only ever read about sunsets in books. Seeing it now felt magical. Even a city like Gotham looked beautiful in the glow of the waning sun.
A fierce shiver rips through him, breaking the trance.
'Yup, time to go back'
Peter slowly stands and prepares to jump to the next roof when-
'what is that??'
It's... a car? Parked in the shadow of the alley below. At least Peter thinks it is, it's unlike any car he'd ever seen, not that he'd seen many. A sudden itch rises to investigate. Glancing around and scenting the air reveals no one else nearby. No one would know if he went down to take a look.
Peter shifts, weighing the pros and cons. On one hand, he's sure the owner wouldn't like some random kid poking at their fancy car, but on the other hand, he really wants to know how the hell they mounted a whole machine gun on it. And are those supposed to be bat wings?
Making up his mind, Peter jumps from the roof, silently landing on his spider legs, and crawls up to the driver's door. He peeks into the window, pressing his face fully into it once he realizes how dark the tint is. It's still difficult to make out but he can just see a multitude of buttons. The temptation to fully break into the car and press them all nearly takes over but Peter valiantly restrains himself, attaching to the side of the car and crawling around to get a better look at the arsenal instead.
As much as he wanted to, actually taking apart a stranger's car would almost certainly get him in trouble, so Peter settles for reaching into the machinery and exploring with his more nimble limbs.
One of the many things he'd been taught in the labs was engineering, and while he didn't exactly enjoy taking lessons from his least favorite scientist, it had still turned out to be his favorite subject. Taking things apart and putting them back together even better had been a well-loved activity. Even if he's not taking anything apart now, he still finds himself getting lost as he catalogues each feature he finds, pondering on how they could be improved.
Peter is so distracted that he doesn't notice a small shadow appear beside the car until the sound of a throat clearing reaches him.
Shooting up with a startled chirp from where he had been poking at yet another mounted gun, Peter spots the same brightly clothed boy from yesterday.
'Oh, this must be his car. Or the large man bat's car'
The boy is seemingly just as surprised to see him, quickly sheathing his Katana.
"Hello, we met yesterday but never had the chance to formally introduce ourselves. I am Robin."
Peter tilts his head, blinking each of his eyes as he studies the boy, now known as Robin. He doesn't seem angry at Peter for snooping, and he still doesn't sense any hostility. If anything, the boy looks pleased to see him, though it's hard to tell.
Peter decides that Robin probably won't hurt him and climbs down from the car to stand in front of him.
"M' Peter, sorry for messin' with your car."
Robin lifts a brow at that.
"It is alright, I don't mind. I noticed you looking through the window earlier. If you would like, you can see the inside."
Peter blinks at that, wondering how he didn't sense the boy earlier but is quickly distracted by the offer. He would love to see inside. He quickly nods his head, barely restraining his exciting clicking, but not quite managing to silence the chittering. Robin doesn't seem to mind though, looking oddly smug as he opens the door and gestures to the passenger seat.
"After you."
A small prickle in his senses makes him pause momentarily, narrowing his eyes at the boy. He'd definitely read somewhere that getting into a strangers car wasn't a good idea.
"You aren't gonna kidnap me are you?"
Robin widens his eyes, adopting a look of faux innocence, though the insincerity goes right over Peter's head.
"Of course not, were you not the one who wanted to see inside?"
...Peter was the one who wanted to see inside, and now was his chance. With that, he climbs in, jumping slightly when the door closes behind him. He's already got three fuzzy leg poking around the console by the time Robin climbs into the driver's seat from the other side and shuts his door as well.
Peter points at a big red button, chirping in question at the boy.
"That one operates the ejection system. I do not suggest pressing it."
Peter nods and points at another set of buttons.
"Those operates the machine guns. I also do not suggest pressing them unless you want to hurt someone."
Peter does not want to hurt anyone and so decides to open the glove compartment and rummage around there instead.
He's quickly pulled from his exploration at the sound of the ignition and the car starting up with a deep growl. Peter looks at Robin in alarm, who simply turns to him with a smirk.
"The Batmobile is capable of self driving, but I much prefer to drive it myself."
Peter lets out a high pitched chirp of distress as the car quickly drifts out of the alley and tears down the street.
He tries the door and finds it locked, whirling back around to throw an accusing look at Robin, clicking at him in anger.
"You said you weren't gonna kidnap me!"
"I am not kidnapping you, I am merely taking you to a second location."
Peter blanks a bit.
"Isn' that still kidnapping?"
Robin tuts at that before pressing his foot harder into the gas pedal. Peter wishes he knew that Robin drove like a maniac before getting in the car.
"Call it whatever you wish, but this is for your own good."
Peter huffs at the non-answer. Well, if Robin thought he could just kidnap him with his fancy car, then he was wrong. Turning back to the tinted window, Peter tenses for a second before throwing a punch and knocking an entire half of it out of the frame.
'Whoa, reinforced shatterproof glass. Cool.'
Without wasting another second Peter contorts himself through the small gap and clings to the top of the car as it speeds down the road.
Ignoring the protests coming from the window, Peter shoots one of his stronger webs, and let's himself be yanked from the car as it attaches to the side of a nearby building.
As soon as his legs hit the brick he's running. There no telling if the man bat is close by, but he refuses to slow down and find out.
He can distantly hear the Batmobile rumbling as it turns to follow him, but by the time it catches up, Peter's already gone, leaving behind an extremely frustrated Robin.
~
Once he's back within the confines of the building, Peter locks onto the sound of Jason moving around in his kitchen.
Deciding that he didn't want to be alone when he didn't have to, Peter makes his way to the apartment, silently dropping down from the still open vent. He ambles into the kitchen, watching with great interest as Jason reaches up and puts a massive box of cereal into the cabinet.
Peter gently pulls on the the fabric of his pants, flashing big round puppy eyes at Jason when he looks down at him, along with an unspoken request.
Sighing in exasperation, Jason reaches down and picks him up. Peter immediately clings to him with every limb like a leech, practically soaking up the warmth. He lets loose a content purr, allowing the day's events to melt away. Jason softens at the clingy child and maneuvers him to a more comfortable position as he continues putting away groceries.
"I went shopping today. I figured if you're gonna be staying here, you'll need more than Dino nuggets."
Peter clicks in surprise.
"Oh, you didn't have to. I found lots of food in the dumpsters today."
When Peter looks up at Jason's face, he looks greatly concerned.
"Kid, you don't have to go dumpster diving for food, I've got more than enough money to feed you."
Peter ignores that and buries his head into Jason's chest. He didn't want the man to spend any money on him, but what's done is done.
"Well besides the dumpster diving, what else did you do today?"
Peter perks up at that and describes the rest of his day in great detail, chattering endlessly about everything directly into Jason's ear. None of his handlers would ever tolerate his rambling, so Peter basks in the opportunity to actually talk to someone who wouldn't hurt him for trying.
"-but then I had to run back cause' someone tried to kidnap me-"
"What?!"
Suddenly Jason's eyes are glowing and his hold tightens. He looked downright murderous. Peter immediately tries to backtrack.
"B-but it's ok cause' I broke the window and escaped!"
If anything, that makes Jason angrier. He sets Peter down and crouches, eyes blazing. He looks about three seconds away from a homicide.
"What did they looked like? Where did they keep you!?"
Peter looks away and wrings his hands, legs curling inward. If he tells Jason the truth, he'll definitely try to hurt Robin. Even if the boy had lied to Peter and tried to 'take him to a second location', he didn't deserve to be harmed. Throughout the entire encounter, Peter had never sensed an ounce of hostility or malicious intent. Ultimately, Robin hadn't hurt him, and so Peter deflects.
"I don' remember."
Jason closes his eyes and tilts his head back, holding still for a few seconds before be sighs and buries his head in his hands.
"Jesus Christ kid, I leave you alone for one day and you go and get yourself kidnapped."
Peter doesn't comment on the fact that he'd been alone for way longer without incident.
Jason's eyes are still faintly glowing as he runs his fingers through his hair.
"Just.. stay here tomorrow. For your safety and my peace of mind."
The large man lifts himself from the crouch and makes his way to the living room, face grim but determined. Once Peter follows, he sees Jason pulling on a mask, red helmet in hand.
"I'm headed out for a while. If you get hungry, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Try not to burn the place down, yeah? Also, if anyone knocks, no one's home. I left a burner on the counter an' my number's on the fridge. If anything happens, call me. Oh, and-"
Peter cuts him off with a grin,
"I'll be fine, I won' die."
Jason looks a bit sick at that but acquiesces, ruffling Peters hair before he holsters a frankly ungodly number of firearms, and is out the door on a warpath.
Peter briefly wonders if Jason would be ok with what must still be a gaping wound in his side, but decides that the man probably knows what he's doing.
Taking the golden opportunity to explore, Peter beelines for the slightly cracked bedroom door, pausing briefly to glace over the well-loved books stuffed on an old shelf in the living room. Peter pushes the door open fully, chittering in interest when he registers the small gap between Jason's bed and the floor.
'I bet that space would make an amazing burrow... '
While Peter liked perching high up, he preferred to nest in a small burrow out of sight. Of course, he couldn't really do that in his old room with the constant surveillance, but he certainly tried, using his only blanket to cover his nest. While it was a poor mimicry of a real burrow, it helped to somewhat settle his instincts.
Crouching low and crawling under Jason's bed also seems to do the trick, with Peter letting out a small sigh of content once he settles on the carpet for a nap, basking in a feeling of safety that he's not sure he'd ever known before. It also helped that it was significantly warmer here than in the ventilation. He'd have to sneak under Jason's bed more often. In just a few minutes, Peter is out like a light.
~
When Jason returns home 4 hours later, exhausted and covered in blood, he stops in the doorway and scans for Peter, assuming he's somewhere in the vents when he's nowhere to be found.
While he hadn't been able to get a confession out of any of the usual meta kidnapping suspects, he still took great joy in ruining all of their days. If he left behind a few bodies, no one but him would know.
Jason makes his way to the bedroom, intent on a shower and re-wrapping the gash in his side. It would be a while before it healed and he could move without pain, but he wouldn't let it stop him from doing his job.
When Jason steps through the door, he blanches slightly at the spider legs peeking out from under his bed, chuckling to himself once he realizes it was Peter.
He's not surprised at how fast he'd become attached to the kid. Jason has always had a soft spot for kids and Peter was particularly easy to like.
He certainly had his suspicions about where Peter came from, but seeing as the kid probably wouldn't hurt a fly, he was content to let his suspicions rest for now.
~
Peter had been living in Jason's building for a week now. In that time he had managed to commandeer one of the man's fluffy blankets from the living room for his own nest. It was finally starting to feel more like home. The only downside was the cold. It had snowed in Gotham a few days ago and the metal of the vents did nothing to keep the chill out of his nest.
In response, Peter found himself spending more time in Jason's apartment (and under his bed). While he didn't have central heating, his small army of space heaters was leagues better than the vents. It also meant that he got to spend more time talking the man's ears off and being clingy. Fortunately Jason didn't seem to mind and Peter took full advantage of his tolerance, touch-starved as he was (Jason was also a bit touch-starved, but would never admit it, even under threat of death).
He had also started in on Jason's collection of books, though he quickly grew bored with the lack of anything science or math related.
It was this boredom that led to Peter's current predicament. He wanted access to more books and according to Jason, there was a public library in a different part of the city called Old Gotham. Peter had, of course, immediately left to find it, ignoring Jason's warning about the weather and wrongly assuming that he could get there on his own with just verbal directions and a crudely drawn map.
Peter knew he should have just taken the man's offer when he suggested going to the library together, but he didn't want to impose on Jason more than he already had.
And so there he was, sitting horizontally on a wall overlooking an alley, scrutinizing Jason's shitty map. While navigation had been part of his curriculum, Peter had never actually had the chance to test that skill. Jason's handwriting and drawing also weren't great and only served to confuse him further.
He had tried to ask someone for directions, but his extra eyes, extra limbs, and disconcerting voice must have scared her, as she ran away before Peter could even make it halfway through his first sentence. He decided to stick exclusively to alleys and rooftops after that.
To make matters worse, a small flurry of snow began to fall around him as the sun dipped lower in the sky.
Despite all of this, Peter stubbornly continued looking. If he went back without anything to show for his trip, it would be a long few days of nothing to do until the snow let up. Besides curing his boredom, this was also a chance to get his hands on previously forbidden reading material. Peter was eager to see why exactly his handlers were so strict about what he could and couldn't read, and he wouldn't let a little thing like imminent hibernation stop him.
As he forged onward, the buildings around him became visibly more well maintained and the streets grew brighter as streetlights became more abundant. The general smell of the city only became slightly less unbearable though.
It definitely seems like the Old Gotham Jason had described to him. If he could just find the main road labeled on the map, then surely he could find the library too.
Peter continues across the rooftops, gradually slowing down as the snow fell heavier and began to stick, but his saving grace finally comes when looks down from his current building perch and spots the main road. According to the map if he continues east, he should arrive right at the entrance of the library. Of course, nothing could ever be that simple.
Maybe it was the spider DNA talking, or maybe it was just the way he was, but it was very easy for Peter to be distracted and sidetracked. In the labs, the distraction usually turned out to be Peter trying to make friends with the common house spiders that spun their own webs in the corners, even if he was always punished for it.
Last week, it was the Batmobile, a distraction that nearly got him kidnapped (taken to a second location). Just two days after that, it was a shiny rock spotted from the window of Jason's apartment that Peter simply had to retrieve, accidentally breaking Jason's window to do so. Although, the lecture that followed was much preferred to having his food ration cut in half or being forced to watch as the scientists used his venom to-
Peter stopped that thought in its tracks and refocused on the heavenly scent drifting on the wind from a rooftop garden a few buildings over. He knew it was a bad idea, just like last week's investigation was a bad idea, but quite frankly he hadn't eaten since breakfast and he was starving.
'Just a quick bite, then back to the library.'
Against his better judgement, Peter takes the detour, fighting the growing layer of snow coating everything with each step.
The large bowl of cookies he finds sitting innocently on a small table, lightly covered by a napkin raises his suspicions, but a quick sniff and thorough investigation via sensitive spider legs reveals nothing. Somehow the cookies are still fresh and lightly steaming, even in the frigid Gotham evening.
'Maybe someone left them out here to cool off? Hopefully they won't mind if I take one, or two, or three.'
It's only after seven cookies have been crammed into his mouth that Peter realizes he's going to eat all of them.
Halfway through the bowl, he realizes that the steady snow fall has begun to turn into a blizzard, but it doesn't stop his gluttony.
Finally, after the last cookie disappears, Peter sighs in satisfaction and wow, he's really tired.
'Ok, a quick nap, then back to the library.'
He eyes a cozy looking spot nestled in the shadow of a gargoyle and sluggishly crawls over, curling into a small ball. As Peter drifts off, his breathing and heartbeat slow and his senses dull completely.
'Yup, just a quick nap.'
~
Batman and Robin watch the events unfold though a camera from the rooftop of Gotham Public Library.
Once Peter seems to be fully asleep, Damian huffs, crossing his arms. He wasn't sure whether to be happy the plan worked, or upset that Peter had been so quick to eat food from an unknown source in what was clearly a suspicious setup.
Bruce stands from his position, holding a large fluffy blanket that he'd brought specifically for this occasion.
"Robin, radio Agent A to have everything prepared once we return. We're bringing him home tonight."