Chapter Text
Peter has made some dumb decisions in his life. Okay, ‘some’ is an understatement, he’s made a lot. So the choices he’s about to make shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise. Like running back into a building full of poisonous gas and then trying to grab a child before they’re also caught up in the action and too heavily affected by said gas to which Peter doesn’t know the full effect of yet.
He wishes he had his Spider-Man suit right now. It has the function to filter out gases which would be remarkably helpful at this point in time.
Holding onto this little girl as the gas envelops them both, he already knows what he’s got to do. He holds the cloth onto her mouth in hopes at least it would minimise the harm of the gas- and he tries to run. She’s been inhaling the gas much longer than him so much so that she’s already producing small maniacal giggles while both sobbing at the same time. It’s a terrifying sight.
Just as he stops for a miniscule of a second to try and find the exit in the gassed out room the girl lets out a loud, sob or a laugh. It makes it even more horrific- because Peter can’t tell. From nearby to worsen the situation he hears a voice drawl out in a freakish manner.
“Ohohohoooo, who do we have here?” He watches as the Joker has tilted his head in Peter’s direction, smiling so wide it feels like the villain's mouth should rip. Every inkling of his sense is screaming. His skin prickling. Get out.
Get out.
Get out!
GET OUT! GET OUT!!
GET OUT!!
Cradling the little girl in his arms, grip tightening, Peter can utter only the most appropriate thing for that moment.
“ . . . Shit.”
Before he can even think of doing the next thing, Joker has wasted not a second. Pointing the blaster at Peter- and shooting.
The most hideous part about it all? Joker’s eyes never left Batman’s face. And Batman’s, never left Peter’s.
Holding the girl tightly he cradles her inward, facing her away from the projectile as it collides with his lower left shoulder. A loud grunt of pain escapes him as he keels over onto his knees. He sees the remains of the projectile exude into a similar looking green smoke and swiftly picks it up and throws it back into the direction of the Joker. He feels the corner of his eyes going green, an uncomfortable feeling bubbling up in his throat.
Peter clocks onto a side exit and just bolts, throwing his full body at the door to get it open out of his increasing desperation after he also hears the little girls laugh again. Once he collides, cradling the girl and landing roughly- he slams the door to try and stop the smoke from spreading too far beyond the building.
There’s a pause, only sounds of sirens and distraught people out the front of the building. Peter breathes.
And then realises he’s not breathing.
He’s laughing. He turns to check on the girl and sees that she’s knocked out cold - only breathing now though. Her laughter has all but stopped. Good for her but Peter? Peter is panicking. He picks up the girl and to the first person he spots, a middle aged blonde man- hands her to him.
“Hospital, inhaled Joker ve-haehah.” Peter hits his chest to stop the bubbling laugh. The man looks at him worriedly.
“Kid . . . I think you should come with me too.” The man is holding the girl with one arm and trying to pull on Peter’s sleeve with the other. Not before Peter rips it out of his hand. Feeling the green cloud his vision again.
“Back off! I’ll-” Green. He laughs in between “- be fine.” Running off before he does something he’ll regret; all he can hear in the distance is the man trying to stop him.
“Kid! Wait-” Peter shuts it out and just runs, he doesn’t know how fast, he doesn’t know where. It feels like the wind is laughing at him, it feels like the honking cars, the screaming voices, the hustle of Gotham is all laughing at him and soon enough he’ll be laughing with them.
Because what’s worse than a normal person on Joker Venom?
A mutated spider man on Joker Venom.
He can feel it continuously bubble up in his throat. It comes out in bursts, same as the green in his vision- both churning and clashing inside him like lava and ice. He doesn’t know where he’s running but he’s just relying on his senses to lead him somewhere away. Away from the noises, away from the laughs. He runs for what feels like hours, bumping into people and even random street objects like poles along the way.
His desperation is on display for every Gothamite out late tonight. Finally, heading towards some building in the distance, Peter’s senses finally stop laughing as loud; soon enough he can’t hear anything, falling to his knees and groping at his ears. His face is wet, is he crying? He can’t tell if he’s crying.
His lungs hurt. It feels like they’re scratching against each other making his breathing-lAuGHiNg painful. His back hurts (missile? -The Joker! Projectile. Gas, LAUGHING GAS. Breathe. BREATHE! Rationalise. Calm! Calm.)
Peter hits his head repeatedly, even his spider sense is all over the place. His mouth tastes of blood. He can’t tell a threat between friends at the moment and it scares him. His fear is being drowned hopelessly, the lava melting the ice into a storm infested ocean. The sea is green. The sea is only green. Turning green? RAGE. ANGER?-___—_-.. _.GR_–rief? Grief. Oh.
“Breathe. Just Breathe.” . . .That didn’t sound like his spider sense? His vision blurs. He looks up. Green. Green. Green. . . Red?
Red?
Red. Vision becoming clearer Peter focuses on the red. Warm colour. Safe colour. Iron Man. Red Hood. Red–Robin?
Red Robin. Tim. Finally cleared he sees Red Robin all suited up trying to take him through a form of breathing exercise. Holding a vial? No, it looks similar to an epipen. Red Robin is showing it to Peter, trying to explain something. Peter can’t hear him. Why can’t he hear him? But then-
“Will. Will, you are safe I promise. You’re erratic. I need you to just trust me and relax.”He’s speaking slowly and softly. In the next second he feels a sharp pain stab into his thigh. The strange liquid drawing from the epipen into his leg.
Green.
Red.
Gree-Red.
Black.
“Relax.” Relax.
— — —
Back at the gala the bats all watch in horror as the projectile flies off at a speed none of them can hope to stop. Towards Will. Even so Nightwing bolts in the direction the second he hears Will’s pained grunt. Yet when the smoke clears, Will is gone. His attention can’t even stay on it because one of Joker’s goons is already up and throwing a pipe in the direction of his head. The fighting has resumed, the panic of everything having given the goons time to recuperate.
Nightwing is still worried about Will because he can’t see him or the little girl he was holding anywhere. He’s trying to multitask by fighting and whipping his head around to look- then he sees the side exit door swung open.
“Red Robin!” Tim turns his head to the voice, seeing Nightwing’s distraught face. All he does is point to the exit door and Red Robin can pretty much understand. Will.
He nods in confirmation and runs out the door, confident they can handle this themselves seeing the Joker be detained along with multiple other goons but Will may not have the time- Tim also saw how much gas he probably inhaled.
Bolting out the door he looks around for any signs of Will and instantly clocks the little girl being wheeled into an ambulance with who he assumes is her weeping parents but he has no time for giving sympathy- the girl was okay so his next priority was finding Will.
As he runs up he spots a blonde man watching the child in worry and decides he may know something or at least have seen Will.
“Excuse me! Have you seen a man? Around 6 feet, brown hair, green eyes? He was with that girl last time I saw him.” The blonde man turns to him sharply,confused.
“Huh? Oh- oh yeah! I did. He was with her but gave her to me but he-he was in a real bad way. Laughing, you know?”
“Can you tell me where he went?” Tim doesn’t have the time to waste here if Will is truly as bad as he thinks. Joker venom being inhaled is bad in itself but he was also hit with what is essentially a missile, one thing to be grateful for is that it was only the gas form. Still, the only way Tim thinks Will could possibly be moving is through his adrenaline.
The blonde man points in the direction and Tim speeds off in that direction scanning for signs of disturbance amongst the people who are out and about still. Luckily for him he finds it. Using both surveillance cameras and people, he sees people angrily looking back in certain directions and some looking concerned. Continuing to follow this path of disturbance he starts to lose track as the number of people shrinks, then decides it's time to rely on cameras and if he was right Will should be in this area.
He starts getting anxious the more he scans, he can follow Will but that doesn’t guarantee anything. For all Tim knows he could be choking on his own tongue right now. With that disturbing thought now implanted in his mind he tries to speed up the process and almost laughs when he sees Will run into an abandoned building. He immediately follows the route after him.
. . .
The sight isn’t pretty. Will is collapsed in himself, mutterings of words that are incomprehensible and merged with dry gasps and harsh laughs as if he’s trying to swallow them before they get out. Inching closer Tim is getting lower and lower to Will’s crouched form before laying a calm hand on his back seeing how he reacts to the touch.
He doesn’t, so Tim takes that as he can proceed with trying to calm Will down. “Will, Will- I’m going to need you to breathe. Breathe.” He rubs his arm softly in circle motions speaking calmly as Will seems to be calming himself down, somehow able to listen to his voice through the hysteria. “That’s it, everything’s fine. Breathe- in . . . and out.”
After a long moment a final “Breathe. Just breathe.” and Tim watches the awareness start to reach his eyes again, the laughing not stopping but he’s shaking less so Tim takes the opportunity. “Will. You are safe I promise but I have to warn you. You’re erratic. I need you to just trust me and relax.” He pulls the Joker venom antidote from his bag and positions it best he can around Will's thigh and punctures it into him hoping it will help somehow.
It takes longer than it should, much longer but it eventually seems to work as he slumps slowly into Tim’s arms. He knows he shouldn’t have used civilian names with Will but he can make up an excuse if he remembers. . . though seeing how distraught he was, he doubts he’ll need to. Tim swoops him into his arms all the while trying to reach anyone who can bring over some help because now he realises, Will got a really long way away from the gala.
“Oracle, come in. Actually anyone will do. Minus the demon brat.” He waits a few seconds before getting a response.
“Here, Red Robin. Did you find him?” The line is interrupted by his other family members.
“Oh my god he’s fine right? He’s not dead?” Steph says darkly.
“Spoiler, why would you say that?” Dick lets out worriedly.
“Why not me? That’s insolent. I am the best Robin.” A grumble comes from across the line.
“Can we get back to our maybe dead Butler?” Jason’s voice comes in, albeit a bit more static.
Finally the rough, deep voice cuts through all the questions. “Quiet.” After everyone is thoroughly hushed Batman continues. “Red Robin, status report.” With a deep sigh Red Robin is relieved now that he can actually talk.
“Red Robin here. I found Will, he was quite strongly gassed so I gave him an antivenom but it fully knocked him out. I was going to ask for a ride to the cave but I think it’s best if I take him to Leslie’s clinic at least.” There’s a grunt on the other end of the line from Batman.
“Everything is under control here as it. . . can be, I’ll send someone your way. Nightwing. You have a car and are closest.”
“No problem B. Send me your location RR and I’ll be there in a bit.” With a simple click, Red Robin’s location has been pinged through to Nightwing. As Nightwing makes his way over Tim has a final question.
“How bad is it over there?” The line goes silent.
And that’s all Tim needs to hear to understand.
— — —
When Peter wakes up it is in a completely unfamiliar place. His head is ringing and he’s hurting in places he didn’t even know existed.
Trying to refocus his eyes is hard as he’s being blinded by the white light above his head, it looks like a white(ish) room. There’s medical supplies. Hospital maybe? He tries to sit up with a groan but is shocked when he is instantly pushed down. He didn’t even sense another person in the room. He flops back down with a vocal ‘oof’.
“Don’t get up yet. You need more rest than the little time you’ve had.”
Peter, confused as ever. Which is becoming too frequent these days, finally has his eyes fix onto the middle aged woman by the side of his bed. “Uhhhh. . .” She doesn’t dignify his confusion with an answer and instead starts towards his face.
“Please keep still just while I shine the light across your eyes.” He flinches at the sudden light but stays still. Yeah okay he’s still extremely confused. “Okay-” She puts the light down, looking directly at Peter. “Any feelings of nausea or discomfort.”
“Uh, no??”
“Is that a question or a statement?”
“No. I’m uhm sore but I feel fine.” She nods and lets out a sigh.
“That’s good. A certain family has been on my ass about you.” That makes Peter focus a bit more.
“Who?” She raises an eyebrow.
“The Waynes of course, child. You’ve had them worried sick. How guilty do you think Bruce feels knowing you were injured under his care, at his gala? The man has been in here every other hour.” She huffs exhaustedly rubbing the bridge between her eyes. “I should give him a call. Unless you have any other emergency contacts but we didn’t see any in your information.” Peter blinks once, then twice.
Damn. I knew I forgot something when I was making up my new life. . . Ugh. Not like I’ve got anyone anyways.
Dr. Thompkins looks at him with a slightly softer look on her normally tense face. “Please don’t tell me I said that last bit out loud.”
“Sorry, but you did.” She smiles awkwardly but she seems to be trying to ease Peter’s tension. “Don’t worry I won’t say anything. It’s Gotham and reality in general- lots of people have nobody.” Shrugging, she hands Peter a lollipop.
He stares at it for a second before sighing with a smile. “Thank you, Dr?”
“Thompkins. But most of the Waynes just call me Lee.”
Yeah, but I’m no Wayne. Besides, May would kill me.
“Thank you then, Dr. Thompkins. You have my eternal gratitude.” He says with a smirk, earning one from Dr. Thompkins herself too.
“Oh cut it out, cheeky child. I’m going to grab Bruce- don’t go anywhere.”
“Where else would I go?” She leaves the room with a smile and Peter lets out a deep breath. This kind of doesn’t feel real. He hasn’t processed anything that happened in the last 24 hours.
Taking a breath in he tries to calm himself, leaning back on the hospital bed.
“. . .fuck.” He can’t even remember much about it. It’s all cloudy and it feels weird whenever he tries to remember it. He knows the gala went up in flames- literally. He knows that it was the Joker- he’s not a fool he knows he was hit with a damn projectile while holding the girl.
- The girl!
Bruce Wayne then walks into the room, a calming smile on his face. “How are you feeling champ?” Peter may work for Mr.Wayne but he hasn’t honestly seen much of him around the manor. So this interaction is a bit awkward.
“Uhh alright, like a fews things are definitely broken! But pretty alright considering that.” He relaxes a bit when Bruce huffs a gentle laugh at his joke- then he tenses again when he senses the humour leaving Bruce.
Ah damn. This feels like an oncoming lecture.
“Will. What you did- going back in there? It was brave but it was so stupid. You didn’t even have a gas mask.”
Oh dear, he’s such a dad.
“. . . Is the girl okay though?” Bruce looks at him blankly before sighing deeply. Wow. Lots of sighing all around.
“She was taken to hospital and thanks to you- she was fine. Only a bit of Joker venom, which meant she took the antidote well.” With a nod he lets his shoulders fall but there’s still a worry of his.
“-and everyone else?” The silence speaks.
“13 people died from either overdose or injury.” It’s quiet in the room, Bruce seems to be giving him time to handle the new information. He wasn’t ready for the pained tone in Will’s voice.
“13?” The number catches tiredly in his throat. Bruce can only nod and watch as Will grips the light sheet covering him. Walking over he sits on the chair beside the bed seeing every bit of turmoil on Will’s face.
“It would’ve been 14.” Will finally looks at him. Gently placing a hand on Will’s shoulder he feels the shudder at the touch. (3040 words atp) “But it wasn’t thanks to you. I know I reprimanded you but in truth you did save that little girl.” When he sees Will turn away again he shuffles forward a bit. He’s not the best at emotional situations but he is both Batman and a father. “Samantha Breighs. That’s the name of the girl you saved.”
Peter looks at Bruce again, a light in his eyes. “It’s a nice name.” Peter feels slightly pathetic, needing to be comforted about this. He’s Spider-Man. He's done things like this a million times. As if he can tell, Bruce moves from his shoulder to his hand, gripping it softly.
“I know how it feels. Thinking you could have done more. But you couldn’t have and if you spend the rest of your life considering the ‘what ifs’ it will ruin you. So don’t, focus on the amazing thing you did.” He pauses, standing and giving Peter a small slightly hesitant pat on his head. “That little girl gets a future with her family because of you. She’s been asking to see you- and her parents.” Peter tries to not lean into the contact, he’s been deprived of touch embarrassingly enough.
“Really?”
He nods. “Really. So have my kids. Cass and Jay in particular. She seems quite fond of you.” Peter smiles at that. He’s been lonely here- without anyone he once knew but the Wayne’s? Well, they made it just that little bit warmer in the bleak Gotham weather. “Do you want them to come in now? Or do you need some more rest?” Peter shakes his head.
“They can come in if they want. I’m raring to go! Kinda, might just be the pain meds.” With a laugh Peter thinks Bruce is going to leave but all he does is raise his voice a bit.
“Okay, he says you can come in!” All of a sudden they pour in, tripping over each other. Cass glides elegantly next to Peter’s side. He decides to sign to her instead of talking cause he feels the other will have many verbal things to say so he can conserve his energy comfortably with Cass.
‘Hey stranger.’
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Not too bad all things considered.’ He smiles, she frowns with a smile. At least she’s not just frowning.
‘You scared us. All of us. Even Damian was on edge though he’ll never admit it.’
‘What about you all? No one was injured?’ She shakes her head, sitting lightly on the bed next to him.
‘Few scrapes here and there but fine. . . Alfred’s been baking constantly over the past few hours. He’s waiting for you to come back.’ He smiles broadly at that
‘Well- according to Dr. Thompkins I’ll be free soon. The worst of it was the venom residue, the actual missile part, did I mention that?’
‘No but we were told about it by the police, from the Bats.’ I call bullshit. But Peter doesn’t care, as long as everyone is safe.
‘Ah you were told- good. Anyways, apparently I got lucky and the worst it did was a few bruised ribs and some slight back pain.’ Cass has no upfront reaction but Peter feels a slight spike in her nerves when he reacts to the Bats comment. Peter’s pretty sure she knows he knows. Like 80%.
‘Thank goodness.’ After a moment they finally turn to the others who are waiting patiently and acting as if they were not reading into the conversation Cass and Peter were having. Jason is pretending to- checking his jacket seams? Dick is whistling softly. Tim is just staring at the floor. And Damian? Well, no he’s just staring directly at the pair.
“William, I assume you are alright?” With a smile Peter looks at Damian.
“Peachy.”
“Excellent, you will resume working at the manor then?” Before Peter can answer Dick butts in.
“Ah ah, only after he is FULLY recovered.” Damian scoffs and grumbles under his breath but there is a lack of bite in it that he usually harbors. His heart warms a bit, Peter hasn’t felt so. . . familial with people since coming here but knowing they care enough to even show up, it slightly healed something in him.
Jason interrupts. “Oh and Steph and Duke send their regards. They both have a field trip today for school.” Peter looks at Tim with a raised brow. He shrugs with a smirk.
“Eh, I’ve been before. Privileges of being a Grade A student too.” Bruce’s head pops back in past the curtain. He hears Jason mutter ‘and a billionaire’s kid.’ Bruce ignores it.
“Don’t be making a habit of that Tim, education is important.” Tim slouches as small laughs echo around the room. Peter notices Tim’s eyes on him, confused? Calculating? Soon after everyone is herded out leaving only Bruce, Leslie and well, Peter himself of course.
“Peter, you’ll be released soon but only under the circumstances that someone can monitor you. Is there anyone you have? If not- Mr Wayne has offered to take you for the time being.” Peter looks wide eyed up at Bruce.
“Oh no I couldn’t possibly, besides I do have someone. Yeah so Uh it’s so fine cause I got a roommate (well, two) recently and he’d be willing to-. . . Oh my god I forgot I have a roommate. Shit uh , is my phone here somewhere??” Leslie holds it out in front of him, her face holding a blank look.
“You kids and your phones nowadays. . .” With a laugh Peter takes the phone, unlocking it onto the homescreen. 7% shit. He quickly notices the 17 missed calls and even more messages. All he notices, from the coworkers chat, Cobber and Bjorn. Whoops. He sends a quick message to the whole group chat. *Still alive. Sorry I missed my shift. Got joker venom-ed :p * Then a separate one to Cobber. He sticks his tongue out with a smile as he types, mimicking the emojis he’s sending.
*I hate to ask this of you man but uh can you pick me up from the hospital. I need proof that I have someone to monitor me at home. AND congrats on moving in roomies!! :DDDDDDD*
Yeah, that’s an excellent way to let your coworkers and now roommate you’re not dead. He turns it off and looks back up at the pair who are in return looking at him questionably. Sue Peter, he’s a very expressive person. “Ahem, thanks. So- how long do I have to stay here?” Sighing Leslie turns back to her computer.
“We would like to keep you here till tomorrow morning just to monitor for any other possible side effects. But- if you’re anything like this man and his kids I doubt you’ll want to.” Peter nods. She sighs. Again. Lots of sighing all around honestly. “Okay, stay till tonight and you’re home free. Make sure that that friend of yours can take care of you.” Peter salutes her from his place and the bed all the while Bruce looks on tiredly.
With a guilty laugh Peter looks at Bruce. “Sorry, I’ve been told I’m a handful.”
“Explains why you fit right in.”
— — — —
Tim skirts the chair up to the batcomputer after finally arriving home from the hospital, the blue light of the screen hitting his face as he breathes in. There’s no more casual fatalities, Will is healing nicely, Joker has been forced back into Arkham yet he can’t relax. He can’t relax because he can’t get the image out of his head.
Will’s face. A face he thought was maybe generic enough that it just seemed familiar. But no. After seeing him front on in a hospital gown, things began to click. The case that was pushed only slightly under the rug due to a lack of evidence and well- anything. The information was so scarce there was nothing to go off. All they knew was that it involved the Lazarus pits and missing children, leading them in a circle- Case HT402391P.
The one he and Bruce had been digging at a while prior to this. One thing they do have from the many empty labs and found bodies- were papers listing some names, not real names but ones given to the children deemed experiments. The images on most of them were ruined by the strange lazarus pit mixture in the tubes that had leaked and the fires left behind. But one image was slightly clearer than most, having nearly a half of the face visible, the rest of the information smudged or burnt.
Subject A-05. The assumed fourth dead body that they found. A lot was burned or ruined in the fires, including the bodies and considering they only found 4 viable papers with different subjects they assumed the fourth body they found belonged to A-04. But Tim thinks they were wrong.
Because as he zooms into the digital version of the image he can’t help but recognise the striking eye. There’s about a 40% chance he was wrong and just being presumptuous but Tim has learnt to trust his gut at times and right now it’s screaming at him.
Subject A-05 was not the body they found. Considering the numbers went from A-01 to A-05 they had thought there was another but considering they only found 4 bodies the idea was put to the side that the body could’ve been moved prior to the lab’s destruction. If he’s correct then the 4th body they found was actually Subject A-04. He hates it but it makes sense. 5 files, 4 bodies. And half a face that he sees every day of the week.
To make sure he runs a comparison match between the ruined photo and a newer photo of Will with the Waynes.
Blip 7% . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Blip 23%. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Blip 41% . . . . . . . . . .Blip 74%. . . . . . . . . . Blip 89%. . . . . .
Blip! 100%
Tim can feel his heart rate slightly elevate as the images both pixelate on the screen- showing a match.
“It’s a match. It’s a match. . . hoooh shit.” Subject A-05 or more accurately known to them, William - William what? He looks him up in the system, William Parker. He nods to himself, slightly out of it.
Okay, this is fine. Oh damn it to Gotham herself. How do I tell the rest of them about this? Who do I tell first? All of them? Bruce? Cass? . . . Jason?
I mean Jason does have experience with the Lazarus Pit. He mentioned he’s also close to Will but that’s mainly as Red Hood. Bruce then?
Dammit is that my best option?
. . . ! I could just tell Dick? He’s calmer about these things, okay not really but he’s better at remaining calm.
Before he can let himself dwell too much on it he picks up his phone, dialling Dick. There’s a click on the other side - “Tim? What’s up?”
Taking a breath through his nose he sighs.
“We need to talk about something.”