Chapter Text
Peter’s hands shook with nervous trepidation as students piled into the lecture hall. Gotham’s brightest all eager to start their second year of college.
As more students flooded in, his nose was assaulted by the harsh scents all around him. Blueberry pie, lemongrass, honeysuckles, a smoky forest. No matter how long he’d been here he didn’t think he’d ever truly get used to the strong smells that made up this world.
While Peter in every aspect of his life wished to blend in with the crowd, he hoped that his scent stood uniquely different from everyone else. That is, in a world where smell ruled one’s primal brain, Peter could only pray that he smelled of absolutely nothing.
It was a risk. He knew that all too well. But it was one that seemed necessary if he was going to survive completely undetected.
In this world, there were few who held no scent marker. They were called nulls or void, in passing—though the technical term was simply scentless. He accepted it—curated it—a strange trait that simultaneously made him blend in like a chameleon and yet stand out like a sore thumb.
No matter the uniqueness of his self made medical situation, the truth of it was, he was better off that way. It was in human nature to steer clear of anomalies, that fact didn’t change no matter what universe he stumbled into.
His chosen seat was in the very back row of the lecture hall. Far off in the corner tucked away right where the dark shadows of the rooms edge cast a darker hue. In a room that could easily seat 200 hundred students, he was hoping people would get the memo:
Stay away. Don’t sit near me.
That was all he could do to protect anyone now.
As the lecture hall continued to fill, it was clear that many students knew others already as acquaintances, some were clearly close friends. A thought came and went.
That would of been him. Chattering away at MIT with MJ and Ned. All three of them getting in together and pursuing their long awaited dreams together. Peter swallowed the lump forming in this throat, blinking away the tears as more whispered hellos and quiet reunions filled the hall.
That is, until a boy walked in. It was as if his very presence commanded everyone there to stop and divert their attention to him. His spider sense tingled. Not of danger exactly, just to be…alert.
Which was odd in itself considering he was just in a college lecture hall. The last thing Peter needed was some sort of strange young villain to wreck havoc on college kids in a Contemporary Fiction course.
Peter did his best to ignore the situation. If his spider-sense wasn’t on high alert then he wouldn’t be either. Though he couldn’t help but notice from the corner of his eye how people eagerly went up to approach the guy.
He could sense. Eagerness, curiosity, desire even wafting off people just because of this stranger’s presence. Great. Just what he needed.
Peter put his head down, allowing the cool surface to press against his face. His head was pounding with the onslaught of scents, after the spider bite he already had to go through this horrible transition to oversensistive senses. Now it was like that limit had been ranked up another notch. Just the thought caused the pulsing to throb harder. Maybe he wasn’t ready for this after all. Being in a public space like this just might be too much for him to handle at his current threshold.
A chair scraped somewhere to his left. Peter ignored it. Face still pressed down against the table as people piled into the room. Another scrape, closer this time, followed by the soft thump of a bag hitting the floor.
Still, Peter ignored it. He wished he was literally anywhere else but in this lecture hall right now. If it wasn’t out of pure necessity he’d have dipped after only seconds of entering this death trap. But he needed this semester on record. If he could pass his classes, survive the strange biology that made his mind feel damn near bursting, he’s been promised a dorm room free of charge. And lord knows he needed that damn room.
There were nearly two hundred seats in the lecture hall, statistically, someone was bound to sit near his vicinity eventually. He'd been overly optimistic though, thinking that the back corner would remain entirely his and his only.
He smelled it first. Peter’s head lifted before he could stop himself. Coffee. Not bitter or burnt like the stuff that lingered at the bottom of the pot. But warmer, fresh coffee beans and cedar with something faintly sweet underneath but Peter couldn’t quite place it. The scent was so complex, more than any scent he’s come across—and he’s been forced to smell many.
The headache that had made his head pound the last few hours didn’t just disappear exactly, but the scent dulled it. Peter inhaled, openly in front of everyone. Then immediately realized what he’d done.
Oh. My. God.
He snapped his mouth shut and stared determinedly at his laptop.
Nope.
Absolutely not.
He kept his eyes trained to the screen in hopes that no one noticed him openly drinking up someone’s scent. Something that was a big social ‘no-no’ if you didn’t the person by the way.
Whatever weird biological nonsense that this universe had given him was not something he was going to willingly participate in, subconsciously or not.
The scent grew closer as someone plopped down near him with a quiet “sorry.”
Peter glanced over. The guy deciding to sit directly next to him looked about his age if not a tad bit older. Black hair, pale skin, blue-green eyes, and dark circles that Peter recognized instantly as belonging to someone who made caffeine an imperative to their lifestyle. He’d seen the look on Tony one too many times.
Peter realized in horror, that this guy was also the source of the delectable coffee smell attacking his senses.
“Didn’t mean to crowd you.” The guy continued.
“You’re good.” Peter mumbled out. It’s not like he owned the back corner or anything. The seat was open technically, even if Peter loathed the idea of him sitting there.
The guy smiled. Small, barely there, and immediately causing Peter to build up some distrust toward him.
“I’m Tim.” The way Tim said it made Peter think he was going to say something more. So:
Peter waited.
Tim also waited. As though expecting some sort of grand gesture. The silence continued, Tim looking at him as if saying go ahead and gawk.
“…Okay?” Tim’s expression changed, a flicker of something he couldn’t quite place. Peter frowned. Was he supposed to know him?
Maybe they’d met before. Just his luck if they did. He’d spent the better part of the last month trying to memorize street names, foreign biology, local politicians, major historical events, what seems to be a dozen bat-themed vigilantes that patrol Gotham, and how much personal information he could reasonably fake before someone actually started to ask questions about his background.
Remembering every random college student he bumped into wasn’t exactly high on the list occupying his every waking thought.
“Have we met?” That seemed to snap the kid out of it. The boy's eyebrows shot up.
“No.” The confirmation allowed Peter to ease up a bit.
“Cool.” Slowly the corner of Tim’s mouth twitched.
“Tim Drake.” His last name had a bit of emphasis, Peter couldn’t get why. He searched his face, nothing. Scoured through his memory to try to think if he was meant to know who Tim Drake was. His brain came to one conclusion: he hadn’t a single clue.
“Peter.” Tim’s eyebrow raised expectantly. “Parker.” He reluctantly gave up to Tim. Tim blinked before that Cheshire smile came back onto his face.
“Nice to meet you, Peter Parker.”
“Yeah, you too, Tim Drake.” There was something distinctly amused about the way Tim turned back toward the front of the room. Peter decided he didn’t want to know.
Thankfully, the professor chose that moment to begin the lecture. Peter tried to focus, he really did. For the first twenty minutes he managed this reasonably well. Took notes, answered exactly zero questions, avoided eye contact with the professor and other students with the practiced ease of someone who had received pointers from a Russian assassin. (He has by the way received those pointers.)
The problem here was Tim. The guy confidently seated in the seat beside him. Even more specifically, his scent was a problem.
Every time someone walked past their row, Peter was hit by another nauseating wave of flowers, smoke, fruit, spices, rain, and whatever else people’s bodies had decided they needed to smell like.
And every. Single. Time. That warm coffee scent cut through it. Peter found himself leaning slightly toward it. Not enough to be obvious, or at least he hoped so.
The third time he caught himself subconsciously doing it he shifted his chair in the opposite direction.
This was ridiculous. It was a smell for crying out loud.
He’d fought against an alien invasion—twice for the record—he wasn’t about to let some guys scent be the thing that defeats him. But biology here persisted more than Peter cared to admit.
Beside him, Tim glanced over. Peter immediately looked down. He didn’t notice the curious narrowing of Tim’s eyes. Nor did he notice when Tim moved his bag from the floor onto the empty seat beside him. Blocking anyone else from taking it and leaving Peter and Tim isolated in their little corner.
By the time the professor dismissed them, Peter had already decided three things.
One: College had been a mistake
Two: Gotham somehow had even more people in it than New York, which Peter knew was objectively untrue but still emotionally correct if the scents in this room were any indication.
And three: He needed to stay very, very far away from Tim Drake.
“Hey!” A hand gripped his shoulder. Peter flinched, whipping around to face the green eyed kid. It was Tim.
“Hi?” Their brief interaction earlier didn’t warrant any further contact between the two in Peter’s eyes. Peter glanced down briefly. He had his bag, all of his belongings. By all means, Tim had zero reason to be approaching him presently.
“Can I walk with you?” Peter paused, stunned in place. His first instinct was to say no. To turn around and hurry in the opposite direction—even if it was the wrong way for his next class.
But Peter glanced around him. Dozens of other university students were walking past them. No one was looking at him. No one cared about him. Maybe, maybe having at least an acquaintance, one whose scent was damn near intoxicating at that, wouldn’t be the end of the world.
“…sure.” The words left his mouth before his brain could catch up. Tim looked all too eager by Peter’s reluctant agreement.
They fell in step. Just Peter and Tim walking together across campus. A bit awkward and for a few minutes neither of them speaking. Each step caused Peter to notice whispers igniting all around them. Curious glances being thrown their way as eyes seemed to linger and watch Tim and due to the proximity, Peter. He was quickly regretting agreeing to this situation altogether.
Tim’s voice broke Peter’s surveillance scan of the area. “So did you mean what you said earlier?” Tim’s voice sliced through his thoughts. He was growing uneasy. A prickle of nervousness growing in the pit of his stomach.
“About?” His eyes were darting around, taking in the whispers, the stares.
“Not knowing me.” Peter halted in his step. A lightbulb switching on in his brain. So that’s what this was. Peter almost smile as relief washed over him. Glancing at Tim with a much more casual smirl.
“Look, if you're some big shot here I didn’t mean to offend you earlier in class. I’m just new to the area and didn’t know. Wasn’t trying to like… you know.” It would make sense. Peter was ticking the boxes in his mind.
Walked into the room and people immediately flocked to him. Check. Seemed genuinely surprised by Peter’s lack of reaction to Tim introducing himself. Check. Eyes on him when he’s just minding his business walking in. Check.
He could handle something like this. Tim wasn’t trying to be friends with him or anything , just trying to defend his ego or whatever. He apologized, hopefully Tim would back off and Peter could slip into the background just as he planned to.
“No!” Tim’s eyes widened, seemingly startled by Peter’s proclamation. “Goodness no. I just—I was surprised that’s all. I’m not like, upset or anything. Was just curious.” Peter deflated. He sensed no lie from Tim which led him right back to the beginning. Why the hell was this guy bothering him?
“Okay…” Peter said slowly. Dreading this walk more than he thought was possible. Tim nodded, Peter nodded, and neither of them stopped walking beside the other. Peter was waiting for Tim to disperse wherever he needed to go. But this guy must have all the time in the world since he seems pretty adament to walk beside him. This was nearly unbearable. Sure, Peter has had his fair share of extremely awkward interactions but it’s been a while alright?
“So.” Tim started. There it is.
“You said you’re new to Gotham?” Peter hesitated.
“Yeah.”
“Where’d you move from?”
“New York.” Easy and true.
“City?”
“Queens.” Also true. Don’t lie outright, weave a web of carefully calculated half-truths and he should be just fine. Tim’s eyebrows rose.
“That’s a pretty big move.”
“You’re telling me.” Tim didn’t even know the half of it.
“What brought you here?” More prying. Peter’s fingers tightened around the strap of his worn backpack. He had answers for this. He’d spent weeks building answers for this. The trick was not to lie. Lies had edges. Details you had to remember, stories that could be contradicted. The redacted truth was much easier to manage. Cutting out pieces that didn’t need to be disclosed.
“Needed a change.” Tim glanced at him.
“From New York to Gotham?”
Peter shrugged. Gotham was infamous. A quick boogle search showed that. Gotahm was labelled the Crime capital of the nation. “Apparently I make bad decisions.”
Tim laughed.
It was quiet but surprisingly genuine, and Peter hated the small spark of satisfaction that bloomed in his chest at tghe sound.
“Family here?”
“No.” The answer came quickly, Peter realized. Tim’s smile faded a bit and Peter regretted saying anything in the first place. Peter looked ahead, the two of them still walked in step with one another.
For a moment, the campus disappeared as his thoughts wandered. Aunt May in the kitchen—much to Peter’s dismay—as she created a disaster she dared to call dinner. MJ laughing beside him with Ned as he stole fries off his plate. Happy and together.
Then, Tony in the lab, surrounded by holograms and tech that Peter longs to get his hands on right now. He nearly got choked up at the thought.
All of them gone.
Different universe. A new life. Different biology even.
“Not anymore.” Tim went quiet. Peter swallowed. He could feel the conversation slowly creeping into dangerous territory.
“My aunt raised me,” He added, because silence did nothing but invite more questions. He needed to squash the problem before it ever truly became one. “It was mostly just us.”
“And your parents?”
“Died when I was little.” That one required no alteration and hopefully it would be enough for the conversation to be retired completely.
“I’m sorry.” Peter shrugged.
“Long time ago. Don’t worry about it.” Tim didn’t offer the usual extremely awkward platitudes that he would normally have received. He didn’t tell him they were in a better place or that some things happened for a reason even if we don’t understand it.
Peter liked him slightly more because of that.
Unfortunately.
“So you came here alone?” Peter shot him a look.
“You ask a lot of questions.” Tim’s expression changed. Not guilty, because of course not, but more so amused at being caught.
“Sorry.”
“No you’re not.” Peter corrected. I mean, Tim made no expression to show that he was sorry.
“No,” Tim admitted. “I’m not.” Peter snorted. Damn it. He’s not meant to be getting close to anyone, not meant to laugh at jokes. He was going against everything he needed to do.
But…
“So what about you?” Peter couldn’t help but ask, mostly because redirecting a conversation was easier than escaping one.
“You from Gotham?”
“Born and raised.”
“My sincere condolences” Tim’s laugh was explosive. A few students nearby actually turned their heads to look at the commotion. Peter glanced at them, then at Tim.
There were those looks again. Not the normal curiosity. But recognition. Peter’s eyes narrowed.
“So what exactly am I supposed to know you from?” Tim glanced around eyeing the students already looking their way. He shoved his hands into his pockets as they continued to walk.
“Nothing important.”
“That sounds suspiciously like something an important person would say.”
“I’m not important.” Peter’s spider-sense gave the faintest little buzz. Not danger but…bullshit. Pure and utter bullshit.
Peter stared at him. Tim stared back looking entirely too innocent.
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay well, my dad is.”
“Ohhh. Got it.” Nepo baby. Checks out.
Tim waited. Peter waited. Another one of those weird pauses passed between them a seemingly normal occurrence at this point.
“…That’s it?” Tim asked.
“What else am I supposed to say?”
“I don’t know.”
“Congratulations on your dad?” Tim laughed again. Peter was beginning to suspect he was accidentally being funny and personable even when he was definitely supposed to be laying low and making sure no one ever suffered again because they got involved with him in the first place.
“Bruce Wayne.” Tim finally said, almost wincing as if ripping off a band aid. Peter frowned. The name ticked something at the back of his mind. He’d heard the name definitely in his Gotham research. The news? Articles?
There had been a lot to learn since landing in this universe. And once he had a—well rather large and catastrophic mental breakdown upon confirming that everyone and everything he knew didn’t exist here—Peter had turned to prioritize major events that would out him as clearly being from somewhere else.
“The politician?" He half guessed. His answer seemed to delight Tim. Like pure honest delight which made Peter only that much more suspicious.
“Yeah.”
“And he’s your dad?” Tim’s smile only grew at the question.
“Adoptive father.”
“Oh.” Peter nodded. It made sense now. The son of a billionaire was probably used to being recognized. Peter hadn’t done more than surface level research on the backgrounds of the major players in Gotham. Sure he knew their foundations and stances on certain political topics but knowing their family wasn’t deemed important. “Cool.”
Peter turned to stare at Tim with his goofy grin. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“It seems like something though.”
“It’s just nice.”
“What is?”
Tim shrugged. “You don’t care.” Peter looked at him for a long moment. Then glanced at the students whose eyes lingered on Tim’s every move. Several things clicked into place.
“Oh.” Tim’s expression fell slightly. “Ohhhh.” Peter pointed at him. “You’re like, rich, rich.” Tim grimaced and despite everything in Peter telling him to refrain he couldn’t help but laugh aloud.
“That’s why everybody keeps staring at you!”
“And here I was hoping it was my charming personality.”
“I’ve known. You for like forty-five minutes and you’ve interrogated me for majority of that time.”
“Interviewed.”
“No, I think interrogated.”
“Conversationally investigated.”
“Isn’t that kind of worse though?” Tim was back to grinning now. And Peter—well—with growing horror was realizing that he was enjoying himself. That realization nearly shut him down instantly. His smile faltered and he turned to look ahead.
He wasn’t here to make friends. To get comfortable.
He’s in another universe because of his mistakes. He’s hurt people. Thousands have suffered because of him. Getting comfortable wasn’t a luxury he deserved. He knew that. Yet here was laughing with some Nepo baby college kid like he didn’t have blood on his hands. Like he didn’t have a trail of bodies lingering behind him each step her took.
Tim sat next to him, they’d shared an entire lecture together. He’d made him laugh. Shared details that he shouldn’t have. Maybe he’d decide to stick around.
And that would be the worst case scenario. Cause then suddenly that person mattered. And Peter couldn’t do people who mattered.
Not anymore.
He adjusted the strap of his backpack and spotted the science building ahead.
Salvation.
“well.” Peter gestured toward it. “This is me.” Tim looked at the building. Then at Peter.
“By any chance, are you taking biochemistry with Wilson?” Peter froze.
“How did you…”
“The textbook hanging out of your bag. Wilson makes everyone buy his textbook that’s way overpriced for no good reason—you need a new bag by the way. The things ripping at the seems.” The comment lingered. Peter didn’t have a better bag. He was lucky that the local shelter had this bag at all. But Tim didn’t know that and it wasn’t his fault for not knowing.
“Right.” He breathed out. Tim’s mouth twitched and Peter narrowed his eyes.
“You’re weird.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I have class.”
“I gathered.”
“So…” Tim stopped walking. Peter took another two steps forward before turning around. For some stupid reason, the increased distance made him immediately aware of the a lack of Tim’s scent. The campus crashed back into him. Flowers, rain, citrus all of it just too much.
“I’ll see you around, Peter Parker.” There was something about the way Tim said it that sounded less like a possibility and more like a decision he’d already made.
Peter raised his hand.
“Yeah, maybe.” Then he turned and headed toward the building before Tim could ask anything else. He didn’t look back. Which meant he didn’t see Tims tending exactly where he’d left him, watching Peter disappear through the doors.
Tim had learned little during their conversation.
Peter Parker was from Queens. His aunt raised him. His parents were dead. He had no family left, seemingly at least. He’d moved to Gotham alone.
No details, no dates. No explanation for why someone with no family, connections, and apparently no familiarity with Gotham as he didn’t recognize him, had suddenly chosen one of the most dangerous cities in America for college.
And strangest of all was his scent.
Or more so, complete lack thereof. Tim had sat beside him for nearly two hours. Walked shoulder to shoulder with him across campus, and not a single trace of scent.
Being null was one thing. Uncommon sure, but possible. But even they had a faint neutral scent that clung them.
Peter Parker smelled like absolutely nothing. No pack scents on him. Not even the lingering smell of a friend. Just an empty void walking beside him across campus.
Tim stared at the doors Peter had walked through.
Interesting.
Very, very interesting.