Chapter Text
Generally, there was an unspoken rule among superheroes and vigilantes alike; Tend to your own city and let the others tend to theirs.
There were exceptions, of course, but Peter doubted falling asleep on top of a train while he was supposed to be patrolling aligned with any of them.
In his defense, it had been a pretty busy week. With midterms underway, most of his spare time had been spent studying and working, both behind and in front of the camera, leaving him with only a couple hours of sleep.
Peter hadn’t seen the harm in a little nap on his after-school patrol. Really, he could just get comfy on the first Amtrak he saw and close his eyes for a moment, then wake up perfectly refreshed and get back to work.
What he hadn’t expected was to awake to the night sky glaring down at him through a glass ceiling.
“What the-” He muttered, cut off by his own yawn as he sat up and took in his surroundings.
He was in a train station, that much was obvious. That in and of itself wasn’t a huge problem. Assuming he had ended up in a different borough, all he would have to do was message a probably slightly-frantic May and explain his dilemma- a censored version, of course- and then swing back home.
The problem was he didn’t recognize this train station.
He had been taking the train almost his entire life. He was almost certain he had seen every train station and Queens and most of the ones in Manhattan, not to mention a few sprinkled around Brooklyn.
“Great,” Peter grumbled under his breath, scanning his surroundings for any identifying features. “Of course this had to happen on a school night.”
The people flooding the platform below didn’t spare Peter a second glance as he jumped down, those closest to him simply glaring as he nearly bumped into them.
It wasn’t until his gaze caught on the large welcome sign hanging broad on the far wall that he understood just how well and truly screwed he was.
Because the sign wasn’t welcoming him to Staten Island or the Bronx, no.
It was welcoming him to Gotham .
“No, May- I was studying with Ned, really. I just… must’ve gotten on the wrong train.”
“Peter, you’ve been taking the train from Ned’s since you were ten! How on earth did you just get on the wrong train?”
The situation was really turning out to be worse than Peter thought it was. For one, his backpack was back home, leaving him stranded in another state without any normal clothes to change into. As bad as that was on it’s own, he was a wanted vigilante in a city that didn’t have the same gratitude towards him as New York. That being said, taking the train the normal way home was out of the question. Even if he really wanted to test just how unfazed the people of Gotham were towards anything superhero related, he didn't have his wallet on him either.
Instead, he sat crouched on a nearby rooftop, waiting patiently for the next train to leave so he could get back home the same way he ended up in this mess.
“I’ve just been so busy with school that I haven’t been sleeping that well. I guess I was just so tired I must’ve mixed them up,” Peter lied, guilt gnawing at him as he did. Idly, he wondered when the fibs started coming so easily.
On the other line, May sighed. “Look, it’s alright. Are you okay getting home from there?”
“Yeah, I’m just gonna wait for the next train and…” Peter trailed off as something caught his eye, a commotion in the dark alleyway just below him. “Sorry May, I gotta go. I’ll be fine. See you soon.”
He barely let his aunt get a word in as he crawled closer to the edge of the roof. Faintly, he could hear the scuffle off footsteps hitting concrete and someone’s muffled cries for help.
Peter effortlessly descended the wall, sticking to the shadows as he watched the display. There was a man, clearly drunk but no less dangerous, one hand covering a woman’s mouth while the other held her in place against the wall.
The vigilante wasted no time jumping into action, shooting a strand of webbing onto the mugger’s jacket and yanking him backwards. The man fell with a thud, his head clanging against a dumpster before he went limp on the grimy pavement.
He turned to the woman, hoping to offer comfort of some sort. Instead, she took one look at the spandex clad teen before her and booked it out of the alley.
“Well, not the warm welcome I was expecting,” Peter muttered under his breath, taking the time to web up the mugger beside him. “But fair enough, I guess.”
He took a moment to inspect his work, satisfied that the man wouldn’t be escaping any time soon, when he heard it. A wooshing sound coming from the mouth of the alley accompanied by heavy footsteps hitting the pavement and the dull ache of his Spidey-sense.
“Alright, I know Gotham’s supposed to be kinda crappy, but two muggings in five minutes is a bit excessive,” Peter quipped, firing one last web securing the unconscious man against the dumpster before standing up with a groan.
Whatever joke sat on his tongue about ending up like the last guy died on his tongue as he turned around only to be met by an imposing figure in a dark cowl and cape with a glare that could kill.
Peter stood there unmoving, doing his best not to tremble as he found himself face to face with the Batman.
“What are you doing here?” The hero questioned in a voice so raspy Peter wouldn’t have been surprised if the guy ate sandpaper and glass shards for fun.
“I uh… took the wrong train.” Peter choked out, internally congratulating himself for the lack of shake in his voice.
“Really?” Batman asked skeptically, looking the young vigilante up and down. “In costume?”
“Technically, I was on top of the train.” He mumbled, looking down at his feet. “I… fell asleep on patrol.”
The man before him said nothing, looming over him unmoving.
Peter swayed awkwardly, fidgeting in place while waiting for the other man to speak again. Just as he was about to break the silence though, the caped man stalked off into the night.
Usually, Peter had a pretty good reaction time. Fantastic, even. But given all that had unfolded in the span of about half an hour, he felt slightly justified when he remained standing in place, finally allowing his mind to process all that had truly happened.
Just as he was about to turn and make his great escape, the sound of footsteps returned along with the dark silhouette of possibly the scariest man Peter had ever met.
“Here.” Batman grumbled, thrusting out his arm toward the vigilante. Peter flinched slightly, trying to make sense of the situation until he noticed the fabric in the hero’s hand. He cautiously closed the gap between the two and reached out, grabbing the clothes the man was holding. “Get changed and take the 9:30 train back. There’s money for your ticket in the pocket.”
Barely processing what the man had said, Peter stood dumbfounded as he stared at the clothes he had been left- a pair of comfortable looking sweatpants and… a Superman T-shirt?
“I uh… Thank you, Mr. Batman, but-” Peter cut himself off as he looked up. The alley was empty, the spot where the older hero had once been deserted.
“...What the hell?”