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Assistant: Title: Existential Crisis Mode
        Author: LuciaInTheSky LuciaInTheSky 
        Chapter: 19/36 
        Summary: Peter was alone, mid-way through an existential crisis after the Erasure™ and was dreading the upcoming month of May.Jason was sick of people telling him how he felt. ‘You don’t need us anymore,’ Artemis had told him, as if saying it would make it true. As if Jason needed someone to justify keeping them around. But three weeks back in Gotham and all Jason felt was f@ck@ng bored and lonely.It was a relief, then, when some random New Yorker was thrown into his living room through a portal straight out of some LSD daydream.Finally, something interesting to deal with.Cue some wild family misunderstandings, criminal conspiracies and cults.Because there’s always a g@dd@mn cult.(Portuguese translation available; Spanish translation available)
        Contents: Chapter 19: Y'all c'mon, have a little faith in Peter's A++ inference skills...
    

    


      
        
          Pretty sure I’ve use more exclamation marks in this chapter than I’ve used in the entire d@mn fic so far... 🫠Y'all it's been a tough week 😑 Beyond personal stuff (school inspectors! Less than 24 hours notice! Everyone in panic mode!), my heart goes out to those of you in the USA and the chaos and ruin of another Trump presidency. I'm so sorry. Please have this (week late) offering of ECM as a very poor consolation prize.On a lighter note though, we are BLESSED YET AGAIN with fanart! This time from the fantastic supine-ly (Tumblr) which has been embedded in this chapter for your reading / viewing pleasure. Please head over to their Tumblr to show them your appreciation because it is BEAUTIFUL.
            
            (See the end of the chapter for  more notes.)
            
      
  

  
  
    
    In Peter’s defence, who would have thought the very person whose living room he was tossed into was also a vigilante?And not just any vigilante! A vigilante with a history of savage violence and bloodshed!And okay! So, maybe the armoury of weapons Jason barely bothered to hide in the crawlspace should have been a giveaway. Especially for someone living in an inner-city apartment. At the very least, it should have been a red flag. But Peter had trusted his Tingle and simply chalked it up to a Gotham Thing (with a healthy dose of eccentricity thrown in for good measure). Peter was new. What did he know about the average Gothamite’s feelings towards guns?Not f@ck@ng much, as it turned out.By no small miracle, Peter kept his sudden and earth-shattering realisation under wraps all through the rest of his breakfast and carried the unwelcome burden of knowledge out the door with Dog at his heels for her usual morning walk. He couldn’t help but feel like he was chased out of the apartment by the weight of Jason’s attention. But it was all in his head. Jason was absolutely, positively, none-the-wiser.Probably.Definitely probably none-the-wiser.They made it to the park without incident, though Peter chalked that up to Dog and muscle memory because he was 100% moving on autopilot. No thoughts. Just Dog and the quiet hangover of Gotham mornings and definitely no thinking about the mortifying fact that Jason definitely knew exactly who Spider-Man was.Ohhhhh God. Red Hood had been such and @ssh@l@ and wow did his behaviour the first time Peter met him as Hood make so much more sense in hindsight.Peter unclipped Dog’s leash and tossed her ball — too hard, still caught in his own head, but Dog raced after it anyway. He watched numbly as she nosed through the grass on the other side of the park, having lost sight of the ball with the distance.So.Jason was the Red Hood.Or. It was the logical assumption. Of course, maybe there was some other reason why they smelled the same. Maybe… maybe Jason was f@ck@ng the Red Hood?No. That was stupid. And surely if they were two separate people and were sleeping together, a shower would have erased the connection.So. Jason was the Red Hood.That was… well. Certain something. But the more Peter thought about it, the more sense it made. They had the same build — maybe Red Hood was taller, but that could be explained by lifts (the thought made Peter fizz with glee) — they both had black hair, though the styles were different, and Jason’s familiar streak of white was absent in Red Hood’s. Both had a preference for guns. In Peter’s not-so-extensive experience, that was sometimes all it took to explain a connection.And… it probably wasn’t the worst thing to happen to Peter? Sure, Hood had a bad reputation — especially in his early days — but most accounts on the Bat forums said he’d chilled out a lot in the last two or three years, most of which he’d been entirely absent from Gotham for. And it certainly explained how he could ‘know a guy’ who could help Peter’s universe hopping problem. The Bats and most capes here had strong connections to the Justice League and affiliate groups like the Titans. If Jason was the Red Hood, it would make way more sense that he’d know someone, rather than him just having ‘a lot of connections’ or whatever. After all, even the Red Hood was known to team up with others.But…But Peter couldn’t shake the resentment that crept in with the revelation.Because here was the thing: of course Jason would want to keep his identity a secret. Peter would — did — the same!But—But. Jason knew Peter was enhanced. He knew Peter was a time traveller (though not that he was a time traveller and universe hopper).And after last night? He sure as hell knew who Spider-Man was. Peter’s recollection of that first day was glazed hazy by the trauma of his fall, but he hadn’t forgotten that he’d used his web-shooters and pretzelled one of Jason’s guns.So, Jason knew. He was smart. He’d have put two and two together as soon as Peter slung himself across that street.And yet the whole evening, Jason hadn’t said a thing!Dog finally discovered her ball (that or it was some other poor dog’s abandoned ball) and bounded back to Peter. She dropped it, slobbered and slippery, at his feet and Peter took more care this time to toss it only far enough that she could still track it.He was being stupid.It wasn’t like Peter wouldn’t have done the exact same thing in Jason’s shoes. Because it didn’t take much to unravel that thread to its inevitable conclusion: rather than Peter’s assumption that the Waynes (and adjacent) were the mob or involved in some kind of Rich Person Fight Club, chances were, at least some of them were vigilantes themselves.And by all accounts, there was only one vigilante family operating in Gotham.The Bats.And only now was Peter putting two and two together. Because he’d recognised Tim. Sure, their voices were different, but f@ck, a single domino mask and a different hairstyle could only do so much.Skittles Robin.And from there, it was a simple task to chase the logic down the rabbit hole. There was no way Tim’s family wouldn’t have noticed — Robin had been operating for years — and still approve of his nighttime activities, unless they also had their fingers in the same crime-riddled, bloodied pie.Accounts were inconsistent and there were practically zero photos out there, but Peter was willing to bet he could pin down several vigilante personas on the Waynes (and adjacents) based on those two data-points.So, yeah. Little wonder Jason never said anything last night. Or this morning.But… Peter still couldn’t shake off the feeling of betrayal. Somehow, in the month he’d been here, Peter had tricked himself into thinking he and Jason were partners in crime (in the figurative sense only). It smarted, to know that he’d been had.There was a good reason why. Peter couldn’t afford to think otherwise. If it was Peter? No hesitation, he’d have stayed quiet.Hell, he’d done it anyway, and the only person’s life in danger of a reveal post-Erasure was his own.“You’re being selfish,” he told himself as he threw Dog’s ball again. She rollicked through the grass, tongue lolling without a care and Peter couldn’t help but smile fondly despite it all. “You don’t have a leg to stand on.”Okay. So, Jason was the Red Hood.The same Red Hood that Spider-Man had very recently formed what one could have said was a working relationship (if you squinted just right). He’d even given Hood his (burner) number.A giggle burst out of him at the realisation. Oh God. Peter as Spider-Man had given Jason as Red Hood his number. And like that, the residual feelings of anger and betrayal fizzled out. Because this?This had so many opportunities for chaos. In fact, it was the perfect payback for that ‘your man’ comment in front of Skittles Robin. Jason really thought he was playing 4-D chess there, hadn’t he?So, fine.If Jason wanted to play vigilante chicken?Fine.Peter was game. — + — 
  
THIS GORGEOUS FANART COMES COURTESY OF THE FABULOUS SUPINE-LY (Tumblr - Original Post) — + — Peter arrived at work in a chipper mood. Jason had returned to bed by the time Peter and Dog returned, so he got dressed for the day as quiet as he could and slipped out with a salute to an already napping Dog.Kyla mimed gagging when she saw him. “Literally nauseating,” she groaned. “Why can’t you just be miserable like a normal person.”“Way to conform to Gotham norms,” Peter hit back, though in all fairness, he had jumped through the door. “Why can’t you smile like an outsider?”She flipped him the bird. “Maybe ‘cause there’s so many men who think they’re entitled to my smile. I live to displease.”“Okay, you got me there,” Peter admitted with a grimace. “Keep fighting the patriarchy?”“Your support is noted and appreciated,” Kyla said, notably without a trace of appreciation in her voice. It reminded Peter so strongly of MJ that the ache in his chest stole his breath. “Speaking of fights against entrenched systems of power: Sandra is on one today. Just an FYI.”Peter frowned. “What do you mean?”“I mean, she looks like her day off yesterday has done her in. She looks like she’s three Parker Salutations away from handing in her letter of resignation. She looks like my aunt that one time she came back from that ayahuasca retreat in Mexico. She looks like—”“Okay, okay!” Peter held up his hands, smiling helplessly despite Kyla’s dig at him. “I get it. She’s not doing well.”“Not doing well?” Kyla scoffed. “Pete, the witch f@ck@ng screeched and jumped three feet in the air when I said good morning to her. F@ck knows how she’ll handle you. I dunno what’s happened, but she’s fallen straight into unhinged territory. I know she’s soft on you—” Peter grimaced again at the observation, “but I bet even you’ll fall victim if you rub her the wrong way today. So watch yourself.”“Thanks…” A customer came in behind Peter and Kyla dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Peter left her to it and took the stairs two at a time. He could sense on the web that there were two people upstairs and sure enough, when he swung open the door, Conrado and Sandra were already at their desks.Conrado nodded at him but didn’t offer any further acknowledgement. He was removing the casing of a laptop and giving off such strong ‘speak to me on pain of death’ vibes that Peter decided it was best not to disrupt him. Sandra on the other hand, jumped out of her seat at his appearance.“Peter! Good morning!” she cried. Her usual enthusiasm was marred by an uncomfortably high note of nervousness and Peter immediately understood what Kyla meant. Sandra’s smile was fixed and manic, and her formerly polished appearance was downright slovenly. In a rumpled shirt and stained jeans, she’d left her usually straightened hair caught somewhere between ‘gentle waves’ and ‘bird’s nest’. There were smudges around her eyes that made Peter wonder if she’d put her mascara on in the dark.It was… bizarre.“Are you okay?” he asked cautiously, already forgetting Kyla’s warning to let sleeping dogs lie. He covered himself quickly: “You were sick yesterday. Are you sure you didn’t need a couple more days?”“Don’t be silly! I’m fine now. Can’t take the whole week off because of a silly cold!” Sandra laughed stiffly as she eyed the barred windows. In a momentary blast of irrational paranoia, Peter wondered if she could tell that less than twelve hours ago he’d been about to break in through one of those very windows. She… probably didn’t? Sandra didn’t give Peter the impression she was suspicious of him. More like… she was expecting something unwelcome to pop up.Weird. And not a little concerning.“Alright,” Peter said, at a loss of anything else to say. He edged towards his desk. “Let me know if you need anything?”God. He hoped she didn’t need anything.“Sure, sure.” Sandra nodded so hard more of her hair slipped into the ‘bird’s nest’ phase. She waved vaguely at the display board drilled into the cabinet by the door. “Those are your jobs for today.”Then she sat down at her desk and got to work. Peter blinked at the abrupt dismissal: usually Sandra would carry on talking for the next twenty minutes, usually about meaningless stuff Peter only half understood or cared about. Whatever was going on must really have wigged her out.Fortunately for his plans, he’d been put on ‘unwitting data scraping’ duty.Peter got to work, reflecting on the change in Sandra. Something had to have happened: she was grating and lazy, but good at keeping up appearances. The timing wasn’t promising, either. Had Red Hood’s — Jason, f@ck it was going to take a lot to get used to that! — blocker not done as good a job as promised? But if that was the case, wouldn’t Justin be in and sniffing around? They found the second ledger in his office. There was no way he wasn’t complicit in whatever scheme they were trying to run here.But…Peter’s gaze flicked between Conrado and Sandra, both working with their heads down, with varying states of contentment.Surely one of them knew what that software was doing. Sandra was his first choice: she was the most senior and practically their manager, though according to Kyla that didn’t actually mean much in the real hierarchy of NRE. But Sandra had unfettered access to everything on this floor, and if Peter hadn’t been suspicious that she knew they were fencing stolen goods, he certainly was now that he and Hood had found that second ledger. It stood to reason she knew about the data theft too. Not to mention someone needed access to the air-gapped laptops to copy and clear out the packets of stolen data.But if that was the case, Peter would have thought a paranoid Sandra would have hogged the job to herself rather than run the risk of Peter or Conrado learning something they shouldn’t.He set up his desk at he mulled it over. His desk faced Sandra’s, Conrado’s to his left. With that in mind, he set his crate in front of the laptop, meaning the ports would be out of Sandra’s line of sight when seated.Peter didn’t dare glancing at Conrado, in case it made him look suspicious. Instead, he tapped into the web and kept track of even the faintest weight of their attention directed towards him. Moving as casually as he could, Peter inserted the new goober — hurriedly put together last night after he’d slunk home— and let it do its thing.The virus he’d made was simple in concept: it would attach itself to the data collected on the laptop and travel over when their guilty party downloaded the data. The next time it connected to a computer, it would worm itself into their system and notify Peter of their location. Easy enough to code thanks to diet-Karen, but he’d spent longer than he would have liked (he was missing his sleep, dammit) making sure the virus wouldn’t be picked up by 2016-equivalent antivirus software. Peter was confident it would work, even with the code he’d installed last night, and hoped it would mean he could learn even faster who was responsible for selling the data.The transfer finished quickly, and Peter palmed the goober and tucked it back in his pocket. Not once had Conrado or Sandra paid him any mind, even though he was sure his pulse must have telegraphed his nefarious intentions.Pleased with himself, Peter completed his work within a few hours, unencumbered by an overly chatty Sandra for once (though Conrado was still a bit of a d@ck). He even offered to take on some of Sandra’s work since whatever was up with her seemed to have tanked her productivity (lower than it usually was).And if Sandra whipped her hand away when their hands accidentally brushed… well it wasn’t like Peter was going to complain about that. — + — 
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 — + — Jason was in a surly mood when Peter returned that evening and Peter, ever the petty one, upped his cheer levels to match.“What’s wrong, honeybunch?” he asked in a saccharine voice that had Jason turning faintly green over their dinner. “You’ve barely touched your jell-o salad!”“First off,” Jason growled, pointing rudely at Peter with his fork. They were seated at their new table — a tiny thing purchased last week because Jason was ‘sick of sitting at the breakfast bar for dinner like a heathen’. “Call me ‘honeybunch’ again and I’ll be taking that mattress of yours back to the manor and you can go back to sleeping on the couch.” Peter grimaced. That mattress was to die for. “Second, if you ever imply my cooking is remotely close to a jell-o salad, I’ll f@ck@ng make you one.”Peter grinned. “With the mayo and tuna?”Jason’s eyes closed as though he were in genuine pain. But when he opened his eyes, he was smiling with far too many teeth. “Don’t forget the celery and sweetcorn.”It was Peter’s turn to shudder. Even before the random food intolerances Earth-G threw at him, he couldn’t abide by celery. “Your threat has been heard and acknowledged.” He turned serious. “But really, what’s got you mad?”“Not mad,” Jason said warily, and glanced down at his half-eaten plate. He’d made chicken casserole and salad for dinner. It was by his own admission a lazy affair, but Peter thought it still tasted pretty d@mn good. “Just… concerned. Halloween’s in a few days—”“Ooh! Are you worried about what to wear? Or are you working? Worried about the drunks?” Peter’s grin died down at Jason’s grim expression. “Jace?”Jason’s pale eyes jumped between Peter and his plate. He pushed around a floret of broccoli, before pinning Peter in place with his unreadable stare. “Halloween and Gotham don’t mix, Pete. Pretty sure the rogues here treat it like a tombola. Last year, Firefly burned out a bunch of apartments. Twenty people died. He went for the stairs first.”Peter’s good mood died an abrupt and brutal death. Right. Gotham. City full of crazies. “That’s… wow.”“Yeah. We don’t so much ‘celebrate’ Halloween here, as we do ‘brace for incoming’. And people still always get hurt.”The fork in Peter’s hand moved funny. When he looked down, he realised he’d squished it without meaning to. A glance at Jason showed he’d already caught it and Peter smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”“It’s fine. You want a new one?”“No, no, hang on—” Peter massaged the metal with both hands and it returned to a rough approximation of its original shape. “All good.”“Sure. Guess we’re lucky they’re second-hand.”That he was. Had Peter done that with those fancy silver forks at the manor? Pretty sure he would have melted through the floor with embarrassment.“So… are you working on Halloween, then?”“Yeah,” Jason sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I will. Probably be gone most, if not all the night to be on mop-up duty. Even if there’s no rogue attack, there’ll be plenty of mess to clean up.”So, Halloween was an ‘all hands on deck’ scenario. That was good to know. Peter resolved to make sure he was ready.“Who do you think it’ll be this time?” he asked, cautious not to sound like he was fishing for information.Jason shrugged. “It’s anyone’s guess, really. But I think it’s a safe bet it won’t be Scarecrow or—” he scowled darkly, the vitriol in his voice surprising to Peter— “Joker. They’re the worst of the worst. Widespread carnage when they’re involved. But they’re under twenty-four-hour surveillance, just in case. If they make a break for it, we— we’ll all hear about it.”Peter wondered if Jason’s stutter was a slip-up. He could imagine the Bats would be watching the rogues with laser focus the next few days. “Any suspicious activity? You know, besides those seals stolen from the zoo?”“A few missing people around Park Row and the Narrows.” Jason scrubbed his face tiredly. “But I don’t think there’s any clear evidence they’re connected to Halloween. Could be a trafficking case: we’ve got enough of ‘em comin’ out the wazoo. Gotham’s finest are on the case.”‘Gotham’s finest’… he had to mean the Bats, right? Jason hadn’t made it any secret exactly what he thought of the GCPD, and though his tone was still riddled with irony, he’d spoken far too positively for it to be the cops.They ate the rest of their meal in a sobered silence, and Peter couldn’t find the same enjoyment as he’d done before. The awareness that some kind of disaster might swiftly be approaching had his skin tingling with unsubstantiated dread. No wonder Jason looked stressed.“I’m heading into work early,” Jason said once he finished, getting up. “Make sure you don’t leave the apartment.”Peter smiled benignly and made no such promise. “Stay safe, Jason.”Jason stood before Peter, and his towering stature might have been intimidating were Peter not certain he was the stronger of the two. “I mean it, Pete. This week especially ain’t the place for people new to Gotham.”“I understand,” Peter said, still smiling, though he feared it had sharpened. “Have a safe night, Jason”Jason sighed. “So long as you understand, I guess,” he huffed, then lumbered off to get dressed for his ‘night job’. Peter remained at the table, still picking at his meal, and waved goodbye to the man as he left.The moment Jason’s footsteps disappeared down the stairs, Peter was up out of his seat, dumping their plates in the sink and rushing to his bedroom.He had preparations of his own to make, and fast.  
  
    
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  Messages with BastardMan. Time reads 11:12AM, Thursday October 27th 
11:00AM BastardMan: come to the cave when you wake. We must discuss Halloween preparations.11:02AM BastardMan: please…11:10AM BastardMan: O also thinks there may be a new player in the city. Allegiances unknown…
  
  

    
      
        
        
          It cracked me up to no end how many of you went: Peter, PLEASE don’t think Jason’s sleeping with Hood! Because that is exactly what Peter came up with while attempting to smoke some copium lmaooooComments and kudos encourage the muse NOT to make Peter's game of vigilante chicken drag on for another 100K words 🫠☠️'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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