Chapter Text
Waking up was painful. Being torn from a dream and forced headfirst into reality hurt enough, but waking up to being kicked in the side?
Peter let out a strangled yelp as he lurched bolt upright. Immediately the cold struck him and he realised he was shivering. Why was it so cold?
His sleep filled eyes darted around and took in the dark, dingy alleyway surrounding him before landing on his assailant.
“Tch,” the man scoffed. “Not dead then.” He moved his arms and Peter’s skin tingled just as the sound of a gun cocking struck through the air.
Peter scrambled back, staring wide-eyed at the shotgun in the man’s hands. It was aimed right at him.
“This ain’t no soup kitchen,” the man gruffed as Peter raised his hands in surrender. “Get the fuck away from my property.” He gestured the shotgun threateningly and Peter rushed to his feet, darting down the alley with no hesitations.
What the fuck was that? What the fuck happened? Why did he wake up in an alley? Had he got knocked out in a fight or something?
Alarmed, he reached for his face. No mask. No gloves.
Okay, no suit. Did he get mugged and he just couldn’t remember it?
Patting down his pockets, slowing to a walk as he attempted to out as much distance between himself and shotgun man as he possibly could without drawing attention to himself, he felt his wallet. That was a good sign. Probably not mugged.
He tried to think, the freezing cold air making it hard as his limbs and core shivered. If it wasn’t so damn cold! Wait, why was it cold? It was summer.
Peter blinked, glancing at the sludgy puddles of melting snow in the street and the flickering Christmas lights in shop windows.
He stopped walking, looking around more closely. He didn’t recognise any of these shops.
He wind blew strong for a few moments and something hit his ankle. It was a newspaper.
Taking it to nearby streetlight he read ‘Gotham Gazette’.
Where the fuck was Gotham?