Chapter 21: The boys go shopping

Having a computer again was both amazing and, potentially very dangerous. Not for his life, of course, but rather for his free time.

It was dreadfully easy for him to get distracted when he went online. He had a tendency to fall into rabbit holes and stay up reading about various topics until the early morning. He had more free time now, since he only worked nights and wasn't at school anymore, but going back out as a vigilante should still remain his priority.

So, after setting up his Internet, he started looking more into how to connect the remains of the Iron Spider to his laptop. Of course, Stark Industries did not exist in this universe. That complicated his task since there would be no available software to port data from it to another operating system.

Last time, Tony had gifted him a key with all the necessary apps to run the suit on it, many of which he'd developed himself.

Now, it wouldn't be Peter's first time creating his own piece of software from scratch, but it would be his first time on his own. Ned, who was more experienced at it, had always helped him out whenever he struggled with something. The projects he had worked on had also been simpler, mostly games he programmed as a kid, before he became Spider-Man.

He tried to remember everything he could about Stark OS. Tony used several languages when he wrote code, depending on what he was developing. The only one Peter was confident in, from the four or so he could remember seeing when he looked over the Iron Spider's programming, was Python.

First things first he needed to be able to look over the micro drives he had salvaged to have an idea of the damage. Recovering the files without breaking them even further was the hard part, but it would come later. He really hoped the security systems had been among the ones disabled, having to go up against that kind of software would take him weeks, at least.

Blessedly, after spending a couple hours wanting to throw his laptop out of the window, he was able to wrangle his way into scanning the drives' content.

Several files had been corrupted, either by the dimension shift, fire or his attempts at brute forcing his way into the system. More than half of them, though, were still intact.

About two third of the heat scanner subroutines were intact, from what he could tell. Most of this first drive had to do with different scanning systems, which would definitely be useful out in Gotham. He'd have to make a list of everything he needed to fix and prioritize which tech he wanted to implement in his first suit.

His suit!

Peter started, shaking his head. He completely forgot to look up where he could get materials for the suit. That was the priority, even above looking over the files.

Even better, he needed to automate the scanning process so he didn't have to painstakingly look at every single one. That wasn't available for Stark files but the task was simple enough that he should be able to write it himself and leave it to run in the background.

Of course, it was easier said than done. He didn't trust himself not to spend the whole day obsessing over it so he chose to push it back. Instead, he switched tabs to look into the different crafts store around Gotham.

The city was absolutely massive and, therefore, it had a wealth of hobby shops. The only issue was that they were south of the Bowery, deep into the richer districts. He would have to leave as soon as possible and probably even grab lunch on his way there if he wanted to make it back to his apartment in time to drop off the materials before getting to work.

He had so much choice in where to go that he could afford to be picky. He mentally crossed out several generalized hobby stores, narrowing it down to sewing and costume making only. Looking at their online catalogue, he was surprised to see that a disturbing amount of them offered body armors do it yourself kits.

Of course, that wasn't what he needed but it was nonetheless a sign that Gotham must be one of the best city to find costume components in. They would definitely have Spandex, which he wanted to put in the flexible spots of the suit. With luck, they might have Kevlar outside of their kits. If they didn't, he could probably find it at a heavy crafts store in the form of gloves. Having a roll would be easier since he wouldn't have to undo the patron first but he wasn't picky.

He narrowed it down to one of the three stores that offered the most body armor kits options. Unlike the others, it was located closer to where he lived. South of Old Gotham, it must be in one of the safest places in the poorer districts. Both the GCPD and the various gangs of the adjacent neighborhoods were likely familiar with the place.

His choice made, Peter shoved as much money as he could in his jacket's pockets. His new boots covered his feet up to his ankles, hiding the last traces of injury. Only a few faded pink lines remained where he had been bitten. By the end of the day, they would disappear.

Before he left, he checked up on the plant Ivy has gotten him. It seemed comfortable under the window, sunlight hitting it straight on. Maybe he should go back to that bookstore he had visited the other day, find a guide on how to take care of plants.

Or he could just go online. It was easy to get out of the habit of googling everything for an answer but he had his own computer now. A quick search before leaving taught him that he needed to be careful while watering it. They could drown with too much water, so he would have to keep in mind how often he did it.

Plant food was also risky when using commercial fertilizers. It could be done, from the few articles he was skimming through, but it had to be only once in a while, and other specialized mix or nutrient teas were better for them than generalized products.

Hopefully the fabric store being in Old Gotham would mean he would get the time to swing by a gardening store.

Thinking about how many inches he would need, Peter pushed his door, turned around to lock it and-…

A sound behind him. His neighbor's door creaked as he heard it slowly swing open. Jason was coming out at the same time as he was and he hadn't even noticed it with how focused he had been on his suit project!

"Hey!" He turned around to greet his coworker, trying not to look too eager at the idea of being involved in a positive human interaction.

Jason didn't appear surprised to see him, his heartbeat remaining even through their talk and his pupils only shifting slightly, mostly due to the change in lightning. He was as collected as he had been most of the previous night, something Peter himself could only dream to one day achieve.

"Morning." The older teen greeted him, despite the fact that it was almost noon. He didn't look like he had slept in, though, his eyes alert and his back straight. "Heading out?"

Wow. Jason asked him a question. He wasn't the only one trying to make a connection there. That simple fact made Peter want to smile abut he managed to swallow it back. He really didn't want to come off as a creep and mess up his one shot at getting a buddy.

Both of them were apparently on their own, maybe his coworker was also looking for a friend? It would be perfect, then they would both be helping each other out. Hope was burning bright in his mind, perhaps a bit too much as he stumbled through his answer, too distracted by the idea that he had to not be creepy to think about what he was saying.

"Um- yeah… Need to get… uuuuh… stuff."

Jason raised an eyebrow at his lackluster answer, leaning back against the wall in a way that was way too cool for Peter to ever hope to emulate.

Where did he learn how to act like this? He looked like he had been plucked straight out of an old detective comics about a roguish antihero. Outside of his suit, Peter just looked like a normal kid and out of the two of them he was the vigilante!

"Are you finally buying a gun?" Jason eventually asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Peter frowned at the comment, immediately trying to clear up the misunderstanding:

"No!" He shook his head. "I'm not even old enough to-"

His coworker smirked at that, rolling his eyes but still looking amused by his reaction. It seemed like getting him riled up about firearms was a source of entertainment for the young man.

"You're old enough." Jason told him, pushing away from the wall to head towards the stairs. Peter hurriedly followed him, happy their disagreement wasn't turning into an argument. His stance on using firearms was not one he intended to budge on anytime soon.

"You're not pushing it." He pointed out, curiosity getting the better of him as always. "Me getting a gun I mean."

Further down the steps, the dark haired teen shrugged.

"You're not trying to get me to stop using them, why would I try to force you to do something you don't want to?" Jason's shoulders tensed briefly after he said those words, something a bit like bitterness or regret in his tone.

It wasn't directed at him, Peter could tell that much. Maybe someone in the older boy's life had tried to do just what he was describing. Perhaps that was even the reason behind his hatred of authority.

He did previously mention having to deal with pacifists in his life… A picture was starting to form in his mind of what Jason's life could be like. It was still missing several pieces though, details he couldn't connect together.

The two of them quickly reached the ground floor. As usual, no one was around in the entrance hall, most residents off at work or in their apartment sleeping. A lot of their neighbors, unsurprisingly, worked at night. Many people did in the Bowery.

Gotham almost seemed more alive after dusk, at least in the northern areas. There was a whole second layer of the city that only stirred once the sky darkened, one Peter was slowly learning the codes and rules of. He wasn't a participant in the underworld but, as he had to interact with it more and more often, it became easier for him to decrypt the culture that surrounded it. Night was a constant companion to many criminals here.

"Need a ride?" Jason asked him as they stepped over the puddles of melted snow that welcomed them in front of their building. "I'm also getting some stuff for my place."

Peter's first instinct was to object, worried about giving out too many informations, however he remembered about his supposed injury and the fact that, in Gotham, it was apparently common to buy a do it yourself body armor kit. It probably wouldn't be that odd of him to want to get some safe gear for his deliveries, right?

On top of that, it wasn't as if Jason himself wasn't blatantly carrying weapons. Out of everyone he knew, his coworker would be one of the least likely to judge him for buying paramilitary supplies.

"It might be out of your way." He warned, still uncertain but now mostly due to the fact he didn't want to bother his neighbor.

"As long as we don't go south, I'm good." Jason reassured him. "I need to get a bunch of shit from all over north Gotham."

"It's uh- Okay. It's in Old Gotham, a fabric store."

To his surprise, his coworker's eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers in recognition.

"Three Gs, right? Good place. Smart choice. You do need better night clothes." He punctuated that with an approving nod. 

"Three Gs?"

Jason once again appeared amused by his confusion. The older teen started walking away from their building, motioning for him to follow.

"Gotham General Gear. People call it Three Gs."

"Oh yeah that's the place." Peter nodded, recognizing the full name. "Is it famous?"

"Famous isn't the right word…" Jason mused, willing to humor his curiosity as always. "They're more like an institution. They've been there for a while."

"Kinda like Marco's."

"Yeah. Except they didn't close."

Closing down seemed to be a very real risk when setting up a business north of Gotham. Many empty stores had been turned into squats in some of the areas Peter used to sleep in before he got his apartment. He had even found a mall, completely abandoned and dilapidated, but hadn't dared step in due to the gang activity around it. Empty, secure buildings didn't only attract the homeless, unfortunately.

They were reaching the motorcycle's parking spot by now. It had remained intact throughout the night, although several of the chains anchoring it to the ground looked like they had been cut through. It was wrapped so tightly that whoever had tried to grab it had quickly given up, leaving it protected by several layers of metal still.

Jason crouched down next to the severed chains, cursing under his breath. He grabbed them and stood back up, arms reaching back as if to throw the broken gear away. Peter stopped him before he could go through it, clearing his throat to get his attention.

"I can fix it if you want." He told the older teen, explaining in the same breath : "I have a soldering kit at my place."

"You have soldering stuff?" This seemed to catch his coworker's interest like nothing else he'd said before. Rather than be appalled at his poor safety practice of using flammable tools inside of a wooden room, the young man grinned. "You into making shit?"

"Yeah!" Peter replied enthusiastically. "I'm more into robotics though, but uh… you like bikes right?" He remembered the books they'd brought back from the container shelter. Most of them had been about vehicles.

"No shit." Jason grinned, patting his motorcycle fondly.

An half baked idea formed into the vigilante's head, bursting out of his mouth before he could really think about it. He needed to work on his impulse control.

"I'd love to learn how they work, if you have time to show me." Peter said, embarrassment catching up to him before he even finished his sentence. "I mean I know robots and computers but not much else."

His neighbor stared at him with wide eyes for a few heartbeats before abruptly straightening up. There was a slight upward tilt to his mouth, a shadow of a true smile, one that reached his eyes. As always, Jason looked much younger when he wasn't frowning, barely older than him in fact.

Yep. He had been right. Showing interest in what people liked was a good way to make friends and it was more than easy to see how much the other boy loved his bike. Plus, learning more about a subject he was completely ignorant about could only be a good thing. If anything it would allow him to expand his skill set as Spider-Man. Many times, he had had to lift a broken down car out of traffic only to have to lower it in a nearby parking lot, unable to fix it.

Living in New York City meant he had never been pushed to learn much about vehicles. Maybe his life would have been different had he not been pushed towards computers by Ned, engineering by Tony, and biology by his own mutation. He was a bit relieved that, even across the multiverse, he could still find ways to teach himself more skills.

"Shit. Yeah." Jason nodded, sounding slightly dazed. It had taken him more time than usual to reply. "You really want me to teach you?"

The emphasis he put on the second half of the sentence betrayed his surprise, which was confusing. Did nobody ever ask him for this kind of advice? Maybe he was just too intimidating for other civilians… but then this was Gotham. Even with his bike and his guns, Peter's coworker didn't have anything on Orca or Ivy when it came to being intimidating. It just seemed to come with being born in this city.

He focused back on the conversation, trying his best to go through with his impulsive request since it seemed to actually make his coworker happy.

Don't be creepy, Parker.

"Uh… yeah. I really like mechanical stuff and you look like you know a lot more than I do. Cause I don't know a lot. About bikes."

Awkward.

This time however, he got a full-blown smile in answer. Jason looked honestly happy to share what appeared to be one of his passions with someone else, despite his initial surprise.

"I'll show you a few tricks." The young man told him, packing up the rest of the chains and locks wrapped around his bike. "But not today."

Peter nodded. He also had a lot of work in front of him that day, even if being dropped off at the store would make him gain some time. He had thought out of several patrons for the suit but hadn't drawn any yet, wanting to wait and see what he was going to have to work with. Different materials might require different techniques and if he wanted to mix components, the patron would have to be even more specialized.

It would be his first full suit on his own. His first attempt at it, years ago, had been terrible. Since then he'd learned a lot, mostly from Tony but also from talking to the other Avengers and then going over the information with Ned and MJ. He practiced over and over again at the drawing board until his blueprints looked clean enough. He asked May to teach him more advanced sewing technique, learned soldering, metal working and engineering at Stark Industries then, later, on his own.

He had eventually reached a point where he could modify the Iron Spider without having to ask for authorization. By the time Tony died, he had felt confident in his ability to design and repair his own suits.

He would put all of it to the test now. He had been planning to make the Spider Suits ever since his old one got burned but still he couldn't help but feel slightly anxious. Even if it had been years, even if he had learned a lot since then, this costume would be how civilians would see him, how criminals would be introduced to him. If he messed it up, it would ruin his entire image.

As he thought, Jason had finished freeing up his bike from the cocoon of metal and plastic sheets he had wrapped it in.

"Hop on." He told him, sliding his helmet on.

Peter settled at the back of the motorcycle just as he had the previous night, watching with interest as they drove through the winding streets. In the daylight, their ride was less daring than it had been the previous night. They didn't jump from one street to another or slid ridiculously close to the ground, thankfully for his stress levels.

The city's landscape was shifting ever so slightly. He could see more security cameras than before, as well as a large police presence, especially as they got closer and closer to Old Gotham. Almost everyone on the street carried a firearm, the ones who didn't walked fast, tense and anxious. About a fourth of the people they drove by had a body armor of some kind under their clothes. It was easy to see from the stiffness of their movement, the way their clothes pulled at their shoulders.

Every day that passed, the atmosphere became more tense. How long would the pressure keep on building up like this before the whole city erupted into violence? There was no more time to wait and learn, he had to get out there again.

Jason did not need any directions to drop him off at the fabric store, heading there quickly, cutting through several side streets as he did so. He was obviously very well acquainted with this side of town as he never stopped once.

Gotham General Gear stood as far away as one could get from Crime Alley while still being in North Gotham, its front facing one of the three bridges that led into the more stable districts in town. Of course, all areas of the city had issues with crimes, the news shows he listened to on the radio made that quite clear. The difference between the broken down, dirty street of the Bowery and this clean, secure shop remained stark nonetheless.

It was bigger than what Peter had envisioned and quite openly advertised the many options it had for self defense clothing. Mannequins lined the glass windows, each clad in various jackets or military pants and adorned with signs that certified them fire proof, acid proof and many other things that he would never have though about when shopping for a new outfit. Several hoodies on display had a gas mask function.

"They sell clothes?" He wondered aloud, sliding off the bike and walking closer to get a better look at the items.

He half expected Jason to answer him and then drive off but, to his surprise, his coworker stepped down after him, securing his motorcycle expertly as always.

" They don't. They'd get robbed almost immediately if they sold gear. Those are just examples of what you can make with their stuff. They do have kits though."

He said that as if he expected Peter to jump on those. To his credit, the aforementioned kits were likely extremely popular, with how many of them lined the entrance of the store. Most of them were priced in the hundreds of dollars yet several models looked to be sold out. Safety didn't come cheap in Gotham but the citizens did not have a choice.

Some cheaper options were offered, further inside, using weaker, softer metal alloys for its plates. He turned around to ask Jason why the kits weren't being stolen, since they were apparently worth quite a lot, but realized that his neighbor had slipped away without him noticing.

It required a great deal of sneakiness to move without him noticing. He filed the information in a corner of his mind, already focusing back on browsing the first few aisles.

They were all relatively lively, with several customers looking through the rows of shelves and many tables covered with rolls and samples. A lot of the fabric on display was ordinary, the kind used for day to day clothes, but a significant part of the store was dedicated to gear making. More than half of it, in fact. From floor to ceiling, plates, helmets, gloves and raw materials were laid in front of him. He had never seen anything quite like this before. Gotham truly was in a league of its own.

Their selection was massive to the point that Peter had never heard of several of the items he was staring at. He felt a bit lost. He hadn't expected there to be so many choices available. It made sense, considering how unstable Gotham was, but it was still an extremely odd experience.

"What's your budget?" Jason asked him, tapping his shoulder and making him jump. Once again the teen had managed to sneak up on him. Sure, he was distracted but that was some next level quietness. 

His coworker was holding a large cardboard box under his left arm. No label was attached to it but he could smell metal inside of it. He was not the only one looking to make some kind of body armor, then.

Was that a normal thing in this city? With how different the patrons of stores looked from each other, Peter could believe it. One little old lady was noticeably loading her basket full of Kevlar and metal plates, several of them much too small to be aimed at protecting an adult. Gotham was the kind of town where grandparents would rather craft armor for their grandchildren rather than knit scarves or hoodies.

"Your budget?" Jason asked again, dragging him out of his thoughts.

He didn't sound impatient but it didn't stop Peter from blushing. How embarrassing of him to space out like that.

And then, how was he even supposed to answer this question? He couldn't exactly let the other teen know how much he had and especially not how he had gotten it. They had the same job and, even though it payed surprisingly well, they both knew it wasn't enough to afford the most expensive materials in the store.

"Hey dude." Jason called, looking way too relaxed for someone who was talking about potentially criminal matters. "I don't care how you get your money. I'm not gonna ask. I just want to make sure you get good stuff."

"You've made one of those before?" Peter cleared his throat, trying to change the subject and gain enough time to decide just how much information he wanted to give up. It seemed to work, probably because he was being humored.

"I've made tons of them." Jason replied, sounding proud. "Learned to a while back. I'll help you out."

He looked very serious about it. Everyone in this town probably thought Peter was a hopeless child, with how they treated him whenever it came to facing danger. He still nodded, trying to look grateful. This was a good move to protect his secret identity. If he looked incompetent or inexperienced, it would be harder to connect him to Spider-Man once he came back.

"Sure." After some hesitation he added, trying to remain vague: "I can spend a few hundreds, maybe more."

Jason did not appear surprised at his admission, as if this answer had been expected. The dark haired teen nodded silently, walking a few feet away and calling him over.

A bit confused, Peter followed him. He hadn't expected his coworker to come inside with him, even less try to help him chose materials.

"Where are we going?" He asked, as they passed several shelves of boxes filled with armor kits and various outfit patrons.

"Raw materials." Jason shot back, sounding oddly gleeful. He appeared to enjoy projects of this sort, as gloomy as it may seem to an outsider.

"Not a kit?"

"Nah. Those wouldn't work for you. You need something to wear under your work clothes."

They fell silent as they got closer to the back wall of the store, which was lined with racks and piles of folded fabric, strips of leather and metal plates. Under the displays, crates of tools, many of which he had never seen before, where neatly stored.

Jason tapped several samples as they walked past, waiting patiently when Peter checked each and everyone of the ones he'd selected that way. The new driver appeared to know his stuff, every sample he'd chosen so far looked pristine, without any scuffs or tear, and felt extremely resilient when he tugged at them. He didn't know most of the things he was being recommended, a lot of them being synthetic mixes or expensive sounding materials he would never had the budget to think about before he met Tony. Once he did meet Iron Man, though, he didn't really have to worry about the materials of his suit anymore.

"A lot of those are hybrid materials." The young man told him conversationally. "You could also go for a classic like Kevlar, of course. It's always reliable."

As he spoke he handed him several different pieces of fabric to test, even taking out a pocket knife to slash at some of the most expensive ones. The blade, although it wasn't pushed hard, slid harmlessly on the different materials, leaving no trace. If someone tried to attack him on the streets, wearing something like this under his shirt would be a good excuse as to why he could shrug off most blows, at least when it came to blades. Maybe having a thicker looking jacket could help with making him seem more sturdy? He didn't feel like buying a new coat quite yet, though and, although his new friend looked intimidating in his biker jacket, he felt like he wouldn't be able to pull off that specific look. He always had looked more of a track kid than a biker...

"Do you do this a lot?" Peter wondered, noticing how comfortable Jason appeared testing out armor parts. The older boy had put his knife back in his pocket and was now squinting at a square of cloth through what appeared to be a small cylindrical looking glass.

"Uh yeah." The older teen nodded, stopping midway down the aisle to shrug. "Biking and-…"

He didn't finish his sentence but it was easy to fill in the blanks. Jason used to be a mercenary and had been operating outside of the law. From what he had noticed until then, the teen was crafty, even more so than him. Making his own body armor was in character for him. Despite his curiosity, Peter didn't push his luck by asking questions he didn't really want to know the answers of and instead focused on getting the supplies he had come for. Having Jason with him complicated matters slightly, since he wouldn't be able to stock up on materials and make several suits as he had originally intended. Only one would have to do. Even that made his heart skip a beat. Soon, he would be back out.

At least he could use the current violence in Gotham to justify reinforcing most of his clothes, especially considering his job. If he explained it properly, he might even be able to get some Spandex to complete his design, as he had originally intended. His mind started racing through different excuses he could give, even as his hands and fingers ran over the surface of the display table, trying to feel something different, something that would help him decide between the different rolls of fabric. He had narrowed it down to a handful then narrowed his eyes, noticing a detail he had previously overlooked, not thinking it would be of any importance to the making of a suit.

Out of all the samples presented to him by Jason, one stood out, not only for its quality but also for something very… odd.

It smelled familiar.

Not only that but as he rubbed his fingers across the small square, he could feel a strange satisfaction start to spread through his body. This was right. Felt right.

Curious, he turned the dark cloth over, eyes widening when he read the label that had been attached to its back. The price was high, a couple hundred dollars for half a yard, but it wasn't what shocked him the most.

"ENHANCED SPIDER SILK - SYNTHETIC MIX" danced in front of his eyes, instantly explaining why he had been so drawn to the smooth fabric. It was hard not to grin. Spider silk? It felt like it had been placed here for him.

He had a hard time believing such a smooth, flowing textile could be useful for defense but Jason's knife test proved him wrong. Stabbing and cutting left the silk intact, so did tugging. His coworker grunted approvingly at his choice, patting him on the shoulder with a hand that was a touch too rough. The left corner of the young man's mouth was tensing slightly, flexing then tensing back up again. He was thinking about something. What exactly, Peter couldn't figure out.

Looking at the specifics on the product pamphlet that had been placed next to the silk on the table, Peter felt his mouth go dry. This unassuming piece of cloth was stronger than Kevlar by several magnitudes. No wonder it was so expensive. He knew about silk being resistant but this was better than what he could ever have envisioned.

All plans of hiding how much money he had went out the window instantly as he realized that this was it. This was the one material he had been looking for, it fit perfectly. If he could pair it with Spandex for added flexibility, he would be able to make the perfect lightweight patrol suit. He would have to come back later for another suit, or perhaps go to another store, to make himself harder to track. He still wanted to work on a fire resistant suit, and fully intended to make one designed for sneaking, which seemed to be a bit of a requisite to deal with some of Gotham's villains.

Jason politely didn't say anything as he grabbed two yards of dark grey spider silk, the small pile almost as light as air in his hands. It would cost a significant amount of money but, for some reason, the other boy seemed to expect him to have this kind of cash available. Maybe he really did think he was selling info and well... He wasn't exactly wrong. It had been a few days since he had seen Gordon. The man must be busy, with all the recent breakouts.

His coworker did raise an eyebrow when, instead of paying for his purchase, Peter walked past the counter and into the other half of the store, dedicated to more mundane material for clothes making or arts and crafts projects. He felt a cold sweat start to run down his back as he realized he would have to lie to explain why this wasn't enough. he still hadn't decided what his excuse would be, he had gotten sidetracked.

"Looking for something more?" He heard Jason ask, still following him nonchalantly, cardboard box under his arm.

Think fast, Peter.

The excuse left his mouth a bit too quickly for him to fully flesh it out, but he hoped speed would make him look more honest:

"I'm getting Spandex for a cosplay." He lied, remembering about one of the most famous superheroes of this universe, a man who used red and blue as his main colors. If he lied about dressing up as him for a convention, he could get away with grabbing his titular colors.

However, instead of clearing things out, his explanation only seemed to confuse his coworker more.

"Cosplay." Jason repeated, sounding like someone who had never heard the word before. Peter turned on his heels to squint up at him, walking backwards. To his surprise, the teen appeared earnest in his ignorance.

Somehow, and despite being from roughly the same generation as he was, he had no idea what cosplay was.

Did it not exist in this world?

"Dressing up as someone famous." He elaborated, waving his hands around to mimic a cape, although it looked more like he was brushing the air around his shoulders. "Like a hero. Like uh… Superman."

The name felt foreign on his tongue and he had to swallow the urge to replace it with something more familiar like Captain America or Iron Man.

This time, Jason's eyes widened in understanding and he nodded thoughtfully, although he still appeared somewhat unsettled.

"That's-" The boy shook his head. "I've heard of it before. I didn't know that was what it was called." He sounded bitter and sad, with an undercurrent of rage.

"It's pretty popular." Peter nodded. "I used to do it in New York." A lie. He hadn't dressed up in a full costume since he was a child, at least in a costume that wasn't a superhero one. Suiting up as a vigilante was close enough to the truth that he didn't feel overly guilty at his lack of honesty. Point being he hadn't actually done any cosplay but, if he could make it seem like he had, it would explain away his ability to use a sewing machine. Maybe it might even get Jason off his back.

It wasn't that he didn't like spending time with the older teen, quite the opposite. It was extremely nice to have someone to talk to, even if they weren't really close yet. Unfortunately the one thing they were currently bonding over might be one of the most dangerous subjects for him if he wanted to maintain a secret identity.

"Who did you dress up as before?" Jason asked, tone free of any judgement but still vaguely confused.

His question was perfectly innocent but it sent Peter's brain spinning into a whirlwind of thoughts, panicking as he tried to remember the name of any hero that wasn't Superman.

"Flash." He eventually blurted out, the red figure he had read about days ago in one of his books barely more than a hazy memory. What did he know about the guy? Anything that could make his claim of being a cosplayer more credible…

The only detail he could come up with was a pathetic: "I like red" which, while true, was also terribly inane and made him want to melt into the ground.

Blessedly, Jason must have been an angel in another life as, instead of laughing at his awkwardness, he smiled at him ruefully, eyes shining.

"I like red too." He grinned. "And Flash isn't the worst person to dress up as."

Peter nodded, happy to have managed to get away with his lie. He was getting better at making up stories on the spot.

They ended up walking past a whole two shelves of hero cosplay supplies, several of which made Jason pause. He appeared the most disturbed by a drawer full of do it yourself Robin costumes, poking some of them with the tip of his knife, a dubious expression on his face.

"Everything okay?" Peter asked him, already selecting several yards of blue and red Spandex for his first project. It was significantly less expensive than the silk, which made him relax a bit. He would still have more than enough for some homeware and food for weeks.

"I-…" His neighbor sounded choked up, not from emotion but rather from disbelief. "I never realized how this looked."

A pile of fabric in hand, the New Yorker walked over to peer at the costume in question. While the materials were raw and untouched, a large picture showcased what the outfit looked like once finished. It was a garish mess of red, yellow and green, dubbed "Second Robin outfit" by a bold line of words painted above it. the boy modelling it was posing with one leg up in the air, as if in the middle of a kick, a bright smile on his face, his eyes hidden behind a dark domino mask. It made him think of Nightwing, but the man had been the very first to take on the cape next to the Bat, not the second one.

"Second Robin?" Peter read, tilting his head to the side. He vaguely remembered reading about the sidekick during his first few days in this new universe. Unfortunately, sleep deprivation and hunger had caused most of his first week in Gotham to remain as nothing more than a hazy blur in his mind. Of it, he remembered the grief the most.

"Yeah." Jason sighed. "That was a while back."

There was a venom in his words, one that was surprising to hear coming from him. So far he had appeared to be reckless and distrustful but not downright hateful like he sounded now. Whoever Robin was, however many of them there had been, it sounded like the teen had an issue with the hero. It made him slightly uncomfortable and he shuffled on his feet, hoping his uneasiness would be mistaken for hunger or anything that wasn't the slight apprehension of a vigilante in hiding trying to make friend with someone who might hate his fellow heroes. 

"Well uh- I'm all done." Peter cleared his throat, nodding at the pile in his arms. The whole of it was so light yet it was worth almost a thousand dollars. 

All things considered, despite how dangerous it had been, he didn't regret competing in the underground rink. At least now he had money to buy what he needed. At this rhythm he would be able to go back on patrol sooner than expected, which he couldn't wait for. He was itching to get back out on the streets.

"Let's go then." Jason sighed, tearing his gaze away from the garish outfit.

They payed for their purchase separately but Peter's enhanced hearing allowed him to hear clear as day that, although it wasn't worth quite as much that his stab proof spider silk, his neighbor's metal plates cost him several hundred dollars. Like him, he had to have another source of income to be able to afford this kind of purchase. He felt a spike of discomfort rise up in his throat once again and he found himself hoping that he would never have to find himself facing his coworker while he was out as Spider-Man.

Or, maybe, he still had savings left. But, if that was the case, why would he have been living out in a container instead of renting a room somewhere?

Remember, he stole a bike from someone.

Maybe Jason was trying to avoid attention, stay low. But then, him getting a job as a delivery guy didn't fully fit since he would have to be out and about…

Pieces of the puzzle were missing in his mind but he didn't have time to dwell on it as he followed his new friend out of the store. His backpack was now full of several yards of fabric and his pockets were noticeably lighter, most of the money he had brought with him he had to leave behind at the counter. He was too excited about being able to go back out that he did not really mind.

"Anywhere else you need to be?" Jason called out, taking a box of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and twirling a lighter in his other hand. In a smooth gesture, he plucked a stick out and lit it up, taking a long drag as it reached his lips. He smoked with the ease of a long time user

"Gardening." He replied. "I can go on my own though."

"Uh. Can't say I know a place. Got an address?"

He shook his head, causing his coworker to grimace.

"Got a phone?" The older boy asked, cigarette smoldering between his fingers, ashes fluttering in the wind.

Peter cleared his throat in answer, looking away. He wished he could say yes, he really missed the ability to get online wherever he was, but that wasn't exactly something he could lie about.

"Uh." Jason said, looking into his eyes, his face blank. There was something in the way he was staring at him… curiosity?

It was indeed very odd for someone their age not to have their own phone. Then, the person currently giving him a dubious look was also the one who apparently had not known what cosplay was until a few minutes prior.

"I can look it up." His neighbor eventually said, still looking at him oddly. True to his word, he flipped a phone out of his pocket. The thing had clearly seen better days: its screen was shattered in several places and its case was heavily scratched. It turned on immediately, though, and apparently found a store for them to go to almost right away.

"Mind if we stop on the way?" Jason asked, undoing the restraints against his bike, which they had just stopped in front of. "I'm hungry."

Peter, who lived in a constant state of hunger ever since he had lost access to May and the well supplied kitchen they shared, was happy to accept the offer. Groceries were on the lists of items he would have to get. That and something to allow him to cook while in his room. He had a few ideas of what might work but, as usual, he would have to adapt to what he could find in the Bowery's pawn shops. His own comfort was less important than his vigilante duties, it was only logical that the budget he assigned to it was smaller.

They ended up stopping at a nearby burger joint, the kind one would usually find in a city much smaller than Gotham. As odd as it appeared, the town seemed to favor independent businesses. Almost every store and restaurant he had come across in the northern peninsula had been small and not part of any big franchise. Of course, that wasn't to say that brand names weren't a thing in Gotham, that couldn't be further from the case. Products still had brands on them. The places where they were sold at, though, tended to be individually owned. Maybe the constant danger of the gang violence and villain activity was enough to keep many big corporations down south, into the more stable parts of the city.

As he looked around the tiny dining room, Peter almost missed his cue to order. He absently picked a random hamburger combo, distracted by the mist that had started to rise outside, slowly swirling up in the air. It was pretty, in a gloomy, sad way... very much like the city itself.

They walked a few blocks down the street, pushing the bike along and keeping quiet, both absorbed in their own thoughts. He let Jason take the lead, following him until they stopped next to one of the many benches overlooking the bay. Despite its damaged paint, layers of it peeling down from the wood, it was sturdy and well made. A plaque indicated who had funded the project but it had been scratched over so many times that it was now impossible to figure out what it said. They sat down and he looked up towards the water. This far north, he could simply turn his head south and see the Gotham skyscrapers peak out from above the buildings and houses he had grown to know. It was odd to realize that, despite how often he swung in between buildings back in New York, Spider-Man had never travelled in between those ones.

He'd have to learn their layout all over again. It was exciting, as well as nostalgic.

"What took you to Gotham?"

Jason asked the question nonchalantly, while unwrapping his meal and swapping through his phone. Peter sputtered, taken by surprise. They had been silent so far, and he had expected them to remain that way. To give himself some time to think, he started picking at the paper around his burger, tearing it off in small chunks. Lying had never been one of his strong suits and Gotham was forcing him to get better at it.

Well… maybe he didn't have to get too far from the truth. Having a basis of reality in the yarn he'd spin would hopefully help him keep his story straight.

Once he could delay his answer no more, his food now unwrapped on his lap, burger slowly cooling down as a chilly wind swirled around and past them. His voice felt rougher than he had intended it to be, and he couldn't help but frown as he replied, a bitter taste in his mouth:

"I made mistakes, tried to help too many people."

Jason snorted at that, although there was no animosity on his face. If anything, he seemed to be reminiscing about his own experiences.

"Didn't work out?" The young man had already finished his sandwich in a few large bites and was now plucking fries out of his bag, occasionally throwing one or two at nearby seagulls.

Peter shook his head, his appetite slowly disappearing as memories trickled back into his mind. Events he had tried to forget, people he missed terribly… all rushed back at him and it took all he had not to break down.

He still had to wait a few seconds before replying, his voice too shaky to let him speak properly.

"No. My aunt-"

He hadn't planned to talk about May, originally, but mentioning his mistakes made it all come back. The fire, the sirens, her lifeless eyes as he realized that this was it, she was gone.

He didn't know how long he had stayed silent, was only vaguely aware of the fact that Jason had stopped moving and was now staring at him, frozen in place. Tears welled up in his eyes and he had to lower his head to swallow them back. It still hurt. It had only been a bit more than two weeks since he travelled universes, since he left everything and everyone he knew behind. It felt like months had passed, with how much he had to go through, but right now he could believe that it had only been a few minutes ago. His chest throbbed with each breath.

"Shit dude."

Jason's voice cut through the fog of pain, anchoring him to the present. He latched onto his presence to distract himself from the void, the utter loneliness he felt trapped in. Peter's throat slowly relaxed as he listened to his friend speak.

"I've also messed up pretty bad…" The teen was saying. "Honestly now I don't know if I regret it or not."

"Same." He found himself laughing bitterly, remembering what they had accomplished together with his other selves, and what they had to sacrifice for it to happen.

He took a first bite of his burger, hoping the taste would distract him from his bitter thoughts. It didn't, feeling like plastic in his mouth, like cold worms on his tongue. For a moment, he almost spit it out but hunger was still a bitter, recent memory. He couldn't bring himself to waste food like that and, eventually, he pushed himself to eat more. 

"I guess you can't really ever come to Gotham for a sweet, wholesome reason." Jason mused darkly, finishing up the rest of his meal and crumpling the paper bag it had been stored in into a ball.

Peter didn't want to keep talking about his aunt, his past and his failures. He tried to change the subject, grabbing onto the first question he could think of:

"So why did you come back then?"

He came off as more blunt than he had wanted to be and had to hide his blush into the rest of his sandwich.

Jason wasn't offended by his attitude, however, and instead leaned back, eyes tilting up towards the sky. He sighed, rubbing his short black hair wearily.

"I guess I have unfinished business." He eventually replied. "I didn't exactly leave because I wanted to."

Peter was about to ask more questions, but one look at his coworker immediately changed his mind. The older boy's face had paled slightly, and he could see beads of sweat start to roll down his forehead. Just like him, Jason had some dark memories haunting him. Oddly, it made him feel a bit less alone. They probably didn't even share the same struggles but at least he wasn't completely on his own.

Neither of them talked as he finished his fries, the silence in between them only cut by the screams of neighboring birds, who tried to steal crumbs off of their laps.

"Sorry." Peter mumbled when they stood up to head back to the bike. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's no big deal." Jason talked over him, raising a hand to calm him down. "I guess I'm sorry too. About your aunt."

He spoke gruffly and looked away during most of it, but his tone was earnest. The words tore at Peter's soul despite it all, but he took them with a smile. A small, sad one sure, but it was better than breaking down and crying.

He felt a light tap on his shoulders, a friendly gesture. With a start, he looked up at Jason, who grinned at him, pointing to his motorcycle.

"Let's go. Gotta drop you off and then I have to run."

True to his word, the young man drove him down a few streets, leaving him in front of a small seeds and fertilizer store. It was in a surprisingly good shape for Gotham, its proximity to the GCPD headquarters was likely the reason it survived so long.

Peter watched the motorcycle speed away after he stepped away from it. The afternoon had barely started, he still had a lot of time before it was night.

He sighed, trying to clear his head from the last remnants of grief that still haunted him. MJ always told him talking about his problems would help him get better mentally, but it did not feel that way currently. If anything, talking about May and the events around her death had made him feel significantly sadder than if he simply hadn't mentioned it.

Even days, weeks after the fact, just remembering that night was enough to disturb him to the point of tears.

At least he hadn't been alone that time, and that had helped him keep it together. He hoped he hadn't scared Jason off with his erratic behavior. Losing his one shot at friendship would be disheartening, especially now that he was starting to think the two of them might have more in common that what he had originally expected.

With a sigh, Peter stepped inside of the gardening store, the scents of soil, compost and fertilizer overpowering his senses almost instantly.

All of those worries would have to be solved later. Right now, he needed to focus on finding the right mix for his plant.

Hopefully, this place would have what he needed. He had a feeling that getting on Ivy's bad side was a terrible idea.

Notes:

This was a hard chapter to write. Got it done, hated it so I rewrote it, then hated it again. Then my wrist bone decided to displace itself and once it got better i rewrote it all again for the third time.

I still dont like it much but im just excited to write action scenes again so here you go T-T im just happy to be able to type again.

(also that spider silk thing is inspired by a real thing i think biosteel was the name? or golden spider silk one or the other)