Chapter Text
Peter gaped in shock at the floating object in front of him, an unchewed piece of steak falling off his fork and back onto the plate. The other Waynes in similar states of shock at the floating thing that so rudely broke through the olds windows and is now hovering over the long dining table.
On such a rare night too, where everyone is home. Even Jason.
“Guys…?” Peters with an unsteady tone, tapping his fork lightly on his plate. “What am I looking at here?”
All of the Waynes are silent, save for Bruce who has, who clears his throat, glaring at the object as if it personally wronged him. As if its very presence is an insult to the house.
“A lantern ring,” Bruce informs quietly, tapping his finger against the old mahogany table.
It is indeed a lantern ring; Peter can see the symbol on the signet more clearly now as it slowly turns to face him. Glowing ominously above the table, maybe a foot away or so from his face. It’s too close personally. Disconcerting.
“Why’s it floating in front of me?” Peter asks leaning backwards, the ring approaching closer by increments.
“That’s one freaky ring.” Star-Lord murmurs, in as much confusion as Peter is.
“Its previous owner must’ve… perished,” Bruce slowly stands, keeping his hands on the table.
“It’s supposed to seek out people that resonate with its main emotion, I think,” Dick stands too, but not with anger like Bruce. With worry. His eyes are wide and his lips purse, and the slighting shake of his hands too. No, he’s not worried.
He’s horrified.
The ring inches closer slowly and Peter jerks back a bit, “Uh, no, no thank you. Sorry about your previous owner but I’m not…”
“I don’t think it cares,” Jason tilts his head. “Have any of us ever seen this before? I mean we’ve all seen crazy shit but there’s gotta be something we can do…”
“Oh crap, does it want me to be a hero!?” Peter leans back further, his chair tilting at an angle. “Those working hours are horrible and I'm not for that.”
It was supposed to be a celebratory night. It was supposed to be fun. Finals were over, Duke had the highest scores in their grade, Tim won the city science fair, and Peter (through the grace of some divine being out there) passed his language arts class. It was a win-win-win. Damian didn’t try to stab anyone, Bruce smiled a total of two times, and Jason deciding to grace them with his presence was the icing on the cake.
Except… Peter wasn’t happy he wasn’t feeling much of anything lately. He’s been good at masking it, hiding it away, but there’s such an emptiness inside his soul. It is a gaping infected wound that just won’t heal. He knows what it was caused by too. Uncle Ben. Aunt May. His brothers. Mr. Stark. The dead heroes that are constantly at his heels. Hell, half of his entire universe. Everyone and everything he knew was taken from him. All those losses, now that he isn’t so focused on survival, he is starting to… break. In an odd way.
“Someone grab a blanket, maybe we can cover it.” Steph suggests Alfred nods and silently leaves the room.
“Mayhaps we can trap it before it gets to him…” Damian stands as well, as do the rest of the members of the household.
“Gets to me!? What’s gonna happen when it gets to me!?”
“Peter… stay calm,” Dick slowly makes his way around the table. “You’re not in any danger here just… try to back away from it… slowly…”
Peter does his best to obey, it’s almost comical how the Waynes bend their knees as if they are readying themselves to pounce upon the glowing signet. Peter isn’t in the thing either, but he doesn’t quite get their sheer… terror? No, not terror. Hatred and an odd amount of worry. It’s weird.
“They know something about the ring,” Director Fury notes, and the other deceased heroes chatter in agreement.
I know.
“The ring… it feels… o-ow…” Mantis whimpers in pain.
“Mantis?” Peter Quill asks in worry.
In a flash, the ring surges forward. Peter yelps in surprise as he falls backward away from it. Stumbling over the downed chair ducking and dodging away from the odd ring. He leaps and swoops. The dishes and fine china clatter and shatter onto the floor and sheer pandemonium follows closely.
“Keep it away from Peter!” Dick shouts, throwing… something dark at the diving bombing piece of jewelry. “Grab it!”
“No, don’t touch it!” Bruce commands, his face hardening into a terrifying glare. “Someone call Jordan!”
“Peter run!” Barbara shouts.
He doesn’t need to be told twice. He sprints in a way he hasn’t since the battle of Titan. Which is much faster than the average human is capable of, though he takes care not to ram through any walls or windows. The ring pursues him closely, and the Waynes after the ring. It would be funny if this happened to someone else.
“IknowitIknowitIknowitIknowitI-I-I-” Mantis cries out in panic and fear, her sobs bleeding through to Peter’s soul via the stone.
“Get away from the jewelry, Spider child!” Drax commands with a shout.
I’m trying!
As Peter eyes burn from forming tears and his heart beats faster, sadness and terror exuding from Mantis and into Peter’s. Suddenly, he manages to get the blasted ring the slip, darting down one of the many hallways of Wayne manor. Peter slams into the library and locks the door after himself. Panting heavily as he backs away from the door. Covering his ears, trying in vain to drown out Mantis’s crying.
Please one of you make her stop.
“She can’t help it,” Peter Quill bites out.
And I’m feeling it! Figure it out before I have to banish her, I’m not kidding!
“Peter!” Sam admonishes.
“You will not!” Drax orders angrily.
NO! I shouldn’t have to deal with this! This is my soul you squatters are in!
Peter does his best to ignore the rabbling sounds from the ghosts, pacing around the library in a panic. He knows he should be kinder to Mantis; it isn’t easy feeling other people's emotions as if they are your one. At the same time, he knows he has every right to be frustrated at mantis. At all of the fallen heroes hitching a ride in his soul right now. Sure, they didn’t ask for this, but Peter sure as hell didn’t either. It’s a lose-lose type of a situation.
Peter does his to control his breathing as he settles down into an old leather chaise lounge, hugging himself as tightly as he can without physically hurting himself. He couldn’t have just one day, can he? No, not even a day, He couldn’t have a single measly evening. One a few minutes or so ago he was fine and-
…
But he wasn’t fine.
…
He hasn't been fine in a long long time. Not since getting that horrible letter from Doctor Strange, that everyone in his universe, everyone that he knew and loved, is dead. It's all his fault. Who else could he blame? He was the soul stone, right in his hands, and now his entire family is dead and gone.
He cried for hours that night. He cried till he fell asleep. He cried… too much perhaps. Maybe he ended up pouring all of his emotions out with his tears. Waking up to an odd feeling of a painful numbness and shame.
It’s been that way ever since. Everything he used to enjoy turned gray and washed out, and the things that he used to enjoy like lab time, engineering, playing video games, it all just turned into a routine. A daily show of smiles to keep up a facade of mental wellness. He’s used to that. Lying to the Waynes. Just this time he’s lying to himself.
Peter’s phone suddenly rings, an AC-DC song blares out causing Peter to fumble about a bit as he hurriedly attempts to answer it.
“H-Hello?”
“Peter!” Dick’s sigh of relief answers his shaky greeting. “Where are you? Are you alright?”
“I-I’m in the library, I think I gave it the slip.”
“We know, it’s here in the foyer,” Dick informs with a confused voice. “It’s acting strange, I think. Spinning around, going this way and that way. I think it’s confused.”
“What do I do? Why is this even happening?”
“Just stay where you are, Bruce called a friend that might be able to help, you’ll be ok,” Dick makes a valiant attempt to reassure Peter. “This situation… is unique. You’re not in any danger though I promise; it's just that this particular ring is…”
“Dick?”
“It’s... it’s nothing, you’re safe, and everything will be ok,” Dick makes an obviously false statement, and in the background, Peter can hear Stephanie shout ‘get it with the blanket!’ To which Dick sighs.
“Do you need to help them?”
“Yes… we’ll come get you when it’s safe ok? I don’t think it knows where you are.”
“Are you sure that’s-?”
But Dick had already hung up on Peter. Leaving him with one a mocking phone low beep, hence signifying his absence. Peter balked in annoyance just a bit, hanging up on someone is rude on a normal day. Hanging up on your adoptive inter dimensional child while he’s hiding for dear life from a mystery space ring is audacious and plain ill-mannered. Where is the class?
Is Mantis ok now?
“She is…” Quill sounds upset, judging the light rumble in his chest.
“Sorry Peter…” Mantis apologizes.
Don’t say sorry. Just try to breathe next time, ok?
“Ok…”
What about that thing made you so scared?
“We’ve felt it before, don’t you remember?”
No.
He totally doesn’t and frankly? Not appreciating the ominousness here. Wayne Manor is the one place, the one place that was relatively safe for Peter in all of Gotham city. Would be completely one hundred percent safe if not for that Bane incident, but that’s an outlier. Far far far off in the graph compared to the rest of the data.
Then, curiosity peaks into his mind. Who could have Mr. Wayne called to help out with this? Sure, he’s a billionaire with lots of resources, but glowing and floating rings that break through windows and chase teenagers seems to be out of his circle of influence. Who knows though. Peter’s been surprised before.
Thus, the clock begins to tick on by. Peter idly chatting with the ghosts when he gets bored. Or sometimes picking up a book from one of the shelves, the selection doesn’t quite suit his taste. The books are old, probably have been bought by Mr. Wayne's father or mother, mostly reference books, poetry, literature, and in a myriad of languages too. The only books he actually recognized and began to read was an old and well loved copy of The Hobbit. Which has many annotations and observations written in it, its penmanship suggested to a young and inexperienced reader.
Maybe Jason? He likes reading, from what the others told me.
Jason hasn’t given Peter the time of day since helping him move into the manor though. They say it’s rare for him to visit, but Peter kind of feels… bad about it. He can’t figure the Waynes out, can’t find where the lines are, if Jason chose to help him out, did that count for all of his family interaction for a month or so? He doesn’t know. Having given up on questions, knowing they just won't give him answers. Also, might trip over the proverbial lines he can’t see.
One time he asked Tim how he came to live in the manor, he didn’t leave his room for a week after that. Dick kept on reassuring him that he didn’t do anything wrong. He did though… or so he thinks.
I’m just a burden to them here, aren’t I?
The ghosts immediately try to reassure him that no, he is not a burden. Precious Peter Parker could never be a burden and how dare you insinuate otherwise. If only their words and promises were enough, the only people in the world who could possibly put his heart at ease are all gone. A familiar numb feeling pushes the fear from earlier out of the way.
Parker luck. It’s not his bad luck, it’s everybody else’s. Cursed from the moment they meet him. Maybe it’s not too late to save the Waynes, to save his best friends Duke and Tim, his new dad too, maybe he should move back out onto the streets before his luck poisons them all too. They’d be safer that way.
“Oh, Peter no…” Wanda hushes, sounding sad too.
The ground shakes suddenly, and a commotion is heard far off through the walls. Peter jumps off the chair hurriedly, energy submerging itself back into his blood. Distantly, when he focuses his super hearing, he hears the Waynes shout in panic, a new different voice too, and a zap sound? A whoosh.
Peter doesn’t even have a nano-second to jump out of the way, the odd thing about today is that he hasn’t felt he was in danger. Not once. His Spidey senses abandon him completely and he has no chance of jumping out of the way from the ring that breaks through the walls.
As soon as the ring gets close, what can only be described as a magical girl transformation ensues. The ring forces its way onto his ring finger on his left hand, then Peter gets an odd urge to raise his hand high into a fist. Hence, he does, the uncomfortable fog never leaving his head, even as odd grey glowing rings of light appear at his feet and above his head. Move upwards and downwards with tiny little sparkles falling off of them as they move. Changing the appearance of his clothes with a noise that sounds familiar to crackling ice in a frozen lake. He can’t faintly hear whispers, a chant, or perhaps an oath? It’s too distant for even him to hear.
Then, in a moment it’s over. Peter stumbles backwards as he lowers his hand and unclenches his fist. Peter looks at his new outfit in confusion and curiosity, before making a sad attempt at removing the ring from his finger.
“The fit is kinda fire though,” Shuri notes.
But what’s that symbol on my chest?
Hurried and panicked footsteps run down the halls, and the Waynes burst through the library door, completely ignoring the lock. Dick just shoulder checks his way through the door, breaking the old wooden frame. The rest of the family stumbles in after him, they’re all taking in his appearance. The outfit, the ring, his panic. Duke, Tim, and Steph look lost and afraid, Peter isn’t sure that that fear is for him. Cassandra looks utterly neutral, save for a single raised brow. Mr. Wayne wears the most seething glare he’s seen since he last saw Batman, Damian is in front of him who looks neutral until he looks up at his father, then copies his glare while crossing his arms. Jason's arms are crossed, he seems either unbothered or a bit impressed, perhaps a mix of the two. Dick looks… heartbroken.
“Guys… how do I take it off?” Peter still struggles to remove the ring, if he isn’t careful, he might accidentally rip off his finger with his struggles.
None of them answer him, and another person comes into the room. Pushing past the Waynes and further into the room, but Dick jolts and stands in front of Peter.
“I changed my mind, leave. Now.” Dick growls protectively.
“Let me see him, Grayson.”
“No.”
Peter peeks his head over Dick’s shoulder and his jaw drops. Standing in the Wayne family library, in all his green glory, is the Green Lantern. He’s heard about this guy, a justice league member, protector of earth and other planets too. He glares through his verde domino mask when he sees Peter. A cold uneasy feeling drips down his back as his spidey senses thrum for the first time this evening.
“I’m not going to hurt him.”
“Cause I’m not going to let you.”
“Guys?” Peter asks with a soft voice.
“I know this just happened; I only want to talk to him.”
“I’m not that fucking naive Hal!” Every single one of the Waynes looked surprised when Dick cussed.
“Guys wait, I'm confused…” Peter says as he looks at Hal, was it? Wait, does that imply that Dick knows the green lantern’s secret identity.
“I just need to bring him in before the council.”
“I will toss you into a vat of yellow fucking paint don’t think I won’t.”
Peter only shakes his head and starts trying to pull off the ring once again, his ghosts murmur about in confusion and cast off their theories again. Mantis is eerily quiet though, just faintly he can hear her sniffle and silently cry. He doesn’t get it. All this fuss, but he also thought that the lanterns are supposed to be green.
Why is his black?