A few weeks later…

A few weeks had passed since the Wayne Manor incident and neither the Penguin nor his goons were anywhere to be seen. And much to Gotham’s and Batman’s surprise, neither was the elusive Spider-Man. The last time he’d been seen was after he had helped the people who were affected by the carnage of the Penguin’s sound cannon and since then, nobody saw not a single sliver of red on the rooftops of Gotham.

And Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon hadn’t seen Peter Parker either. He barely attended class and was only there for tests and special assignments, leaving them barely enough time to talk.

Which surprised Bruce. After that brave stand he didn’t expect Peter Parker to just give up. Especially after all the things he said to him.

Water dripped down the cold, damp caves of the Batcave. The microphone on the Batcomputer beeped.

“Master Wayne, Ms. Gordon is here to see you,” said Alfred.

“Bring her in.”

The Batcave was quite except for the occasional screeching of bats and Richard’s grunts and heaves as he jumped from monkey bar to bar.

The door to the Batcave hummed open and the footsteps of Barbara Gordon echoed through the cave walls. Judging by how fast and heavy her footsteps were across the platform, Bruce assumed she was very angry. And the subject of her anger was…

“Bruce what the hell was that?” Barbara said.

“What the hell was what?” Bruce asked, pulling up files on the Penguin and GCPD interrogations of his goons. Turns out most of the thugs involved in the Wayne manor raid weren’t in fact Penguin’s cronies but rather hired help from the streets so none of them knew where the weapons were located. None of them except Skinner who was nowhere to be seen since the Wayne Manor incident.

“That test of yours,” Barbara said, waving her hands around. “Not only did you cost us the investigation but now Penguin is nowhere to be seen.”

“It was to see if he was ready,” Bruce said.

“Ready for what?”

Bruce was silent.

“Ready for what, Bruce?” Barbara exclaimed. “All I see this as is your opportunity to beat up Peter.”

“I agree with Barbs, Bruce,” Dick said, wiping his sweat with his towel. “Just what do you hope to gain from all of this?”

“Gotham is dangerous…”

“You think he doesn’t know that?” Barbara said. “For fucks sake Bruce, his Uncle died. If anybody knows Gotham is dangerous, it’s him.”

Bruce was silent.

“We can’t keep hiding this from him,” Barbara said. “We’re his friends Bruce. What do you think will happen when he finds out it’s us behind Robin and Batgirl? We’re his only friends. What do you think he’ll do when he finds out that his closest friends in Gotham were all in on this ‘test’ of yours?”

“He won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” Barbara asked. “Dick here has a bandage on his shoulder. The same shoulder where a bullet grazed Robin. How long before he puts two and two together?”

Bruce was silent.

“I don’t know about you Bruce, but I don’t think I’ll be able to keep this up any longer,” Barbara said. “I don’t want to break his heart.”

Bruce ignored her, staring at his computer. The cold blue light washing over him.

“Are you even listening?” Barbara said, walking up to him. “Do you even care, huh Bruce?”

Barbara slammed his desk. “Answer me!”

Dick grabbed his shoulders. “Leave him.”

“I know but…”

Dick shook his head. “He’ll never listen, no matter how much we try.”

“But…”

“Believe me, I know,” Dick said, giving her a warm smile. “Worked with him for five years, remember?”

Barbara nodded, gently pushing Dick away and walking away from Bruce.

Dick turned to Bruce, staring him straight in the eye.

“She might not show it but she cares about you,” Dick said. “She cares about all of us.”

Bruce was as still as a stone.

“I…”

Dick shook his head.

“Look, keep your mouth shut all you want,” Dick said. “But you’re pushing her away. You’re pushing us all away. Alfred’s worried, Barbs is worried, hell even I am.”

Dick sighed. “So, you can shut up all you want but just know those walls won’t hold up for long. And if you keep at it, we won’t be there when they break.”

Bruce was silent.

“Master Wayne,” Alfred said. “Commissioner Gordon put a call through the private line, a new development in the Vibranium case has just popped up.”

“Put him in.”

Dick walked away from him, walked to Barbara who was sitting on top of the monkey bars, rubbing her arms. Dick followed, sitting next to her.

“He wasn’t always like this,” Barbara said.

Dick smirked, sitting next to her. “Barbs, if anyone knows that, I do.”

“He was the only one in this godforsaken city who treated me, treated Batgirl like an equal,” Barbara said. “Hell, even my dad looked down on me.”

Dick pat her back.

“After the Batman revealed who he was, someone so formidable finally seemed so… human,” Barbara said. “I started to respect him too. He was a good friend and a good mentor. Cold but still a good man. But ever since the Castle case…”

The Castle case was the murder of the wife and two children of GCPD officer Frank Castle after he had arrested key members of the Falcone family. Castle was never the same ever since.

“Yeah,” Dick said. “Those children, they were…”

“I don’t want to think about it.”

Dick nodded.

“He didn’t even visit me when I got shot,” Dick said. “It was Alfred tending to my wounds.”

“Good old Alfred,” Barbara said, smiling.

Dick chuckled. “Yeah.”

Dick looked down. “After the whole Two-Face incident back when I was twelve and stupid, I was in bed for days. Bruce visited me for days on end, sitting by my bed, ruffling my hair. He reminded me of my…”

Dad. He wanted to say his dad. But after that, after he recovered, all the warmth, all the love disappeared. Bruce was never the same. He was colder, more distant. But he was still watchful, he still showed he cared but…

“It’s like something’s holding him back,” Dick said. “He keeps his emotions behind a wall. Sometimes I wish he’d just… let us in.”

Barbara nodded. Patting his back.

The Batcomputer turned off and Dick and Barbara heard a bike rev.

They both jumped off the monkey bars, heading towards Bruce who was in his cowl.

“What happened?” Barbara asked.

“There’s a new lead in the case,” Batman said, wearing goggles.

“Do you need help?” Barbara asked.

Batman shook his head. “It’s an investigation. You two should patrol the city, see if Skinner and Penguin show their ugly faces.”

There was a silence as the bike revved up.

“Bruce,” Barbara said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Take care of…”

The bike zoomed off leaving both Dick and Barbara behind in a trail of smoke.

...

Working at McDonalds was mind numbingly bland for Peter, like the meat. From flipping the meat, to filling the tasteless milkshakes and dealing with his workmate Chad (who shared all his shifts) who smelt like pot and talked about anarchy and how the government had cameras in the milkshakes.

Peter was so used to the smell of mouldy cheese and bland meat that he’d do anything to escape his routine. Hell, he’d even study at the school library like he lied to Aunt May about. There was no time to change into Spider-Man cause of the curfew Aunt May (in her infinite wisdom) placed on him so Peter was stuck in this monotonous routine.

Until the day he saw Skinner by the drive-by.

At first, he didn’t believe it. What the hell would a wanted criminal be doing at a McDonalds. But then he noticed the bad patch up job at the truck’s back door and the fact that he was wearing a beanie and sunglasses to cover up his face that Peter was sure that it was Skinner. Before Peter could get close enough to confirm, Skinner shut the door to his car and left. Peter, cursing himself for not being fast enough wanted to follow him but he couldn’t risk being seen scaling walls in a McDonalds uniform, that would definitely turn heads. But all hope was not lost. He asked the drive-by lady and she said Skinner was a frequent customer. She asked why Peter was so curious but Peter ignored her.

Sure enough, the next day he saw Skinner’s truck. The following day, Peter took a shorter shift.

At the back of McDonalds was the garbage lot that nobody besides potheads and teenagers who could climb walls frequented. Peter was about to start climbing but…

“Yo Petey-O,” Chad said in his slow, always tired-sounding voice. “Whatchu doing back there?”

Peter quickly dropped from the wall, a forced smile on his face. “Same as you I suppose.”

Which wasn’t a good answer because Chad was cradling a giant purple bong like a baby. The relaxed look on Chad’s face was suddenly replaced by one of grim seriousness.

“Petey-O,” Chad said, walking towards him, placing his bong one side and placing an arm around’s Peter’s shoulder. Peter could smell the pot in his breath. “Let me give you some advice…”

After some (surprisingly) wise words from Chad about weed and its dangerous effects and how Chad didn’t want Peter to end up like him, Skinner had already driven off and Peter had to head back home.

The next day, Peter managed to climb up the rooftops. Peter figured dressing up as Spider-Man would scare Skinner off from this area so he figured he’d have to dress up in civilian clothes, covering up his face with a hoodie. Peter carefully stalked Skinner through rooftops, making sure not to teeter too close to the edge so as to not attract attention. Luckily the streets were relatively empty.

Skinner drove to another lane which meant Peter would have to leap over to another building. Peter was about to make a running jump but…

Peter felt his phone rang in his pocket. He skidded to a halt and saw just who was calling.

Peter let out an exasperated sigh.

“Hey,” Peter said.

“You’re getting kind of late,” May said, without saying anything more.

“Yeah, yeah I’m on the way.”

Peter hung up and sighed. Skinner was just inches away from being caught, all Peter had to do was tail him and then he’d be able to catch the Penguin too.

But Aunt May and his stupid job always got in the way. Peter let out a groan as he headed back home. If only there was some way to track him down, to keep him in Peter’s sights while Peter was busy with his other responsibilities.

He dragged himself into his bed without, muttering a half-hearted excuse as to why he was late before sliding into his bed. He wished Aunt May wasn’t down his throat with this stupid curfew otherwise he’d be able to tail Skinner with no problem.

That’s when he noticed the battered red and blue box on his table. His gift from Bruce Wayne that he had barely touched, let alone opened since the party. And an idea started forming in his head.