Chapter Text
It started with a headache.
Before the spider bite, Peter rarely had headaches, only for days when he didn’t get enough sleep or was staring too long at his computer screen.
After the spider bite, headaches were kind of normal for him. With his senses dialed up as it was, sometimes the world got to be a little too much for him. Things became too bright, too loud, and worst of all too smelly for Peter’s brain to handle. Usually, when that happened, he took a few special kid pills, as Tony would call them, to help ease the pain and hide away until he could better face the world.
There were usually signs of the upcoming headache, a slight change that Peter started to notice. Sounds usually got louder, more aggressive and he’d have a harder time ignoring conversations from two blocks over. His eyes started hurting as they used to when he’d have his glasses off for long periods of time. The world started getting slightly blurry, a little out of focus. The headaches would start small, somewhere in the back of his head before migrating its way to the front, a tidal wave of pain washing over his brain.
He was used to those types of headaches, they were sensory overloads.
The headache he woke up with was different.
This wasn’t gradual, the second he opened his eyes, the pressure was pushing against every part of his skull, his brain ready to burst out.
Controlling his breathing, Peter tried to focus on something else. His mind wandered to the dream he’d woken up from. Since coming back from the dead three months ago, his dreams had been getting increasingly weird. In this one, he was fighting some kind of giant monster in a large mechanical mech suit.
He wanted to chalk it up to the whole Blip thing. Maybe others had similar problems, maybe it was his enhancements, maybe it was the residual effects of being on another planet or being in space. He’d gotten a check-up after he’d left the battlefield, aside from minor injuries nothing else came up as abnormal, for him anyway.
“Hey, Pete?”
The sound of May’s voice startled Peter out of his thoughts. The pressure in his head was still there but it had started to slowly dissipate, as if a large balloon was slowly squeezing out the air. Sitting up in bed caused him a wave of dizziness so strong he almost laid back down.
“Yeah?” He croaked, clearing his throat he tried again, trying not to sound sick. “Yeah, May?”
Moments later, she appeared at the door frame, arms crossed over her chest. “Do you want to go shopping today after I get back from work? I think I’ve finally completed the list of things we need to get.”
“Uh,” Peter started, squinting his eyes just a little, trying to keep himself from looking like he was in pain. “Sure.”
May must have sensed something, she dropped her arms to her side and walked into the room, carefully avoiding the unpacked boxes of his things.
Trying to reassure her, Peter smiled as May sat on the edge, peering closely at him. “You feeling okay? You’re looking a little… peaky?”
As she had done countless times when he was little, May leaned in and placed the back of her hand on his forehead. “Hm, you don’t feel very warm.”
Humming Peter shrugged. “Tired, I guess. Maybe a little headache.”
Removing her hand from his forehead, she moved it to his arm, gently placing her hand between his elbow and wrist. “Overload?”
“No, not this time,” he said into a yawn before trying to look a little more put together for her.
May had more than enough to worry about. She’d been hired by Pepper, pretty much within days of returning to head the New York base for the Stark Blip Relief Foundation. The organization's goal was to help the millions of people currently displaced all over the globe.
Despite being displaced herself, she’d made every effort to help as many people as she could.
Three months on from the Return she was working as hard as ever. Dealing with her nephew’s stupid headache wasn’t something she needed to add to her plate.
“I’ll be fine, just need to eat something.”
Having known him since he was born, May could read him pretty well. Always able to spot when he was lying, or withholding part of the truth from her. Narrowing her eyes, she gave him a once over and Peter tried very hard to appear a little more relaxed. The pressure was slowly diffusing, not completely but enough to continue the lie.
“Alright, mister but if you’re still not feeling well later today, promise me you’ll call Tony.” She didn’t sound like she was completely convinced he was fine, but she was willing to drop it for now.
“Yeah,” he lied through his teeth. “Sure, of course. I’m just gonna shower and then I’ll join you for breakfast before you go to work.”
She squeezed her hand on his arm once before nodding, getting up, and walking out of the room.
If May had her plate full, Tony’s was overflowing. He’d become the unofficial but pretty much official spokesperson for the Return. A public figure the masses could look to for guidance during the trying times. He might not be personally working every angle, but Tony was involved in a lot of it.
They kept in touch pretty regularly, mostly phone calls and a few visits, Tony was still very much involved in Peter’s life.
But now he also had a kid of his own blood to worry about.
There was no way he was going to call and complain about a silly headache.
Dealing with it on his own was for the best, in any case, Peter just figured it was a one time deal.
-
The headaches, as Peter soon found out, were not a one time deal.
Thankfully they weren’t an everyday occurrence, instead seemed to hit on random days, but always in the mornings when he first woke up.
Trying in vain to chalk it up to the millions of little stresses in his life, Peter continued to ignore them. The spider kid meds Tony had given him did nothing to ease the pain, but the pressure build up would go away within the first few hours, it was very manageable.
What Peter found to be increasingly weird was the dreams he was having, mostly the nights before the headaches. They were the same type of person, he was always a different version of himself. What was even weirder was the level of detail, if he wanted to, he could think of any part of that Peter’s life. Some of it went away after a while, but it always felt like it was still stored somewhere in his brain.
Being the budding scientist he was, he recognized the correlation between headaches and dreams but knew very well it didn’t mean causation. He’d need to gather more data before he could firmly make a conclusion.
Coming up with an excuse, after excuse, Peter desperately wanted to think that everything was just par for the course. Four months on from the Return, he decided to test that theory by gathering data from others who Blipped.
Namely, Ned, whom Peter saw frequently since school hadn’t started and neither of them had anything else to do.
“So,” Peter started, going as casual as he could, but he knew it sounded way too forced. “Um, can I ask you a… weird question?”
Ned turned his head away from the TV they’d been watching. “In our lives, weirdness is relative but what’s up?”
“Since uh, coming back from you know… the um, Blip and stuff. Have you… had any problems?”
“Like, what?” Ned asked, eyes narrowing on Peter’s face. Peter immediately regretted bringing anything up, there was no way Ned wasn’t going to get the truth out of him now.
“Um, I dunno. Nevermind.”
“No,” Ned insisted, turning his body so he was facing Peter on the couch. “Something’s wrong. Spill.”
Like May, Ned knew him well enough to spot a lie. Peter hedged on what exactly to ask him, he settled on asking about dreams, hoping that if Ned has them too, he’d be the one to bring up headaches.
“I’ve been having weird dreams and uh, I was wondering if you were having them too?”
“Dreams?” Ned laughed, not a mocking one but one of relief. “Not that I can like, remember, or anything. What’s so weird about your dreams?”
Giving in to the need to just talk about the weirdness, Peter relented. “I dunno, like I’m me but not me. I’m someone else, who is kinda me?”
Narrowing his eyes even further, Ned looked a mix between confused, worried, and amused. “Isn’t that normal? I mean everyone dreams they are someone else.”
“Yeah,” Peter chuckled just a little bit. “I guess. These have just… felt super vivid and real. Not like usual dreams and they aren’t every night either.”
“Have you thought about asking Tony about it?” Ned offered.
“Nooooo,” Peter said immediately. “I’m not calling Tony Stark to tell him about my dreams, Ned.”
Making a face Ned shrugged. “The man’s practically a parental figure to you, why wouldn’t you want to tell him?”
“The same reason why you wouldn't want to go tell your Mom about weird dreams. It just seems a little… childish? They aren’t hurting me, they are just kinda weird.”
Ned seemed to understand and after another second asked. “So, you’re just having really vivid dreams about not being Peter Parker?”
“Not exactly, I mean. Okay.” Pausing to take a deep breath, realizing it was too late to backtrack. If he got this far, he might as well explain more. “I’m always Peter Parker but sometimes drastically different. Like last time I was me but lived in a world that was black and white. And I was a private detective.” He paused and then quickly rushed out his next words. “And I waged a one-man war against the criminal underworld in New York City.”
Ned blinked once, twice, and then finally spoke. “So you were like Batman?”
Peter sighed loudly, at least Ned didn’t immediately call May and tell her he’d lost his mind. “I know it sounds stupid but I knew the whole guy’s life, like, everything he’d ever done was all in my head. It’s not just a dream, it’s like an entire universe.”
Ned cocked his head slightly to the right, narrowing his eyes once again. Peter wondered if he went too far in explaining. He knew Ned wasn’t beyond calling for help if he really thought something was wrong with Peter. The TV continued to play in the background, filling the silence within the room.
“Is anything else happening?” Ned finally asked.
“No, just the dreams,” Peter lied through his teeth, offering Ned a smile. “It’s not every night either, maybe it's just once a week. I just thought maybe the whole Blip and Return was just messing with my brain y’know?”
“Yeah, maybe it’s just May’s cooking finally catching up with you?” Ned joked and Peter knew he was home free. Joking meant Ned was willing to drop it, at least for now.
Offering a stilted laugh Peter figured that was the end of the conversation, they both turned their attention back to the TV. A minute or two later, Ned spoke up again, this time not looking away from the TV.
“Maybe the Return didn’t cause it, but uh, maybe you’re feeling like you don’t belong here yet? I mean, I know we haven’t really talked about it but the world is super different than it was 5 years ago. My sister is older than us, it’s … bizarre and I know I feel like things move on without me. Maybe you don’t feel like yourself, and your subconscious is putting it in your dreams.”
For all of their jokes and generally geeky goofiness, Ned was a really good friend and also, really smart. Peter felt bad, he knew that wasn’t Ned’s intention but he didn’t stop to ask his friend how he was dealing. Peter had been so stuck in his head, the headaches, the dreams… he never thought to check in.
“Yeah,” Peter said softly, keeping his eyes on the TV too. “I kinda get that. But uh, for the record, personally, I’m glad you’re back and that you’re, you know, you.”
“Me too.”
Peter relaxed more into the couch, feeling a little less worried than before. Maybe Ned was right? Who's to say it wasn’t Peter’s subconscious just bothering him? He was feeling like he didn’t quite belong in this new world yet.
“It’d be cool if you were Batman tho. We could call you Spider-Bat.”
-
Two weeks later the headaches weren’t getting any better, they almost seem to be getting worse. They’d linger a lot longer, following Peter around like a storm cloud. The dreams always came first, different Peter Parkers doing all sorts of bizarre things. Sometimes it’d be normal, he’d be sitting with Ned, he’d be talking to May and other times he was fighting Nazis or wearing weirdly different suits.
The only person he told was still Ned, who found all of his different Peter dreams to be amusing, which provided Peter with a little relief. It wasn’t too bad if Ned still thought it was just his overactive imagination and subconscious at play. Ned might have thought differently if he knew about the headaches, but Peter was leaving that small detail out of everything. He’d only mentioned it casually once when Ned caught him right at the tail end of one.
Patrolling one night, Ned was keeping him company over the phone, while he sat at Peter’s apartment. It had been a pretty uneventful night, with a few lost tourists and two loose dogs that he gleefully tracked down. He’d had a headache that morning, it lingered a little longer again, but now at night, he seemed to be better.
“Alright,” he said, coming to a stop on a rooftop a few blocks from his apartment. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”
“Cool, pizza’s on the way too.”
When it was dark outside, Peter usually came in through the window, in his spider suit. It wasn’t the safest thing to do, but he was pretty good at not being seen. Making his way down the side of the building he was glad to see the window was already opened for him.
Crawling in, he dropped from the ceiling and pulled his mask off, and tossed it onto a pile of other clothing. “Hey.”
“Welcome back,” Ned offered from his bed, laptop balancing on his knees. Hitting the spider in the center of his suit, he let it fall to the ground at his feet. Only tripping over it slightly as he pulled it away, he heard Ned’s tiny laugh. “I thought you were supposed to be graceful and agile.”
“Not all the time,” he grumbled as he grabbed his sweatpants, pulling them on. “Hm, have you seen my Midtown hoodie?”
Glancing around the room, there were still several boxes with items waiting to get put away. He’d been pretty lazy about it but May wasn’t being pushy either, so the boxes sat.
“Do you think I can find anything in this mess?” Ned gestured to the room and then pointed at the closet. “It looks like most of your clothes are just like thrown haphazardly over here.”
“Hmm,” Peter hummed, making his way over to the seemingly large pile of clothing. Rummaging around for a minute, he pulled out the dark blue hoodie. “Ha!” Bringing it to his face, he smelled it, making sure it wasn’t too gross to wear. “I knew it was around here somewhere.”
Pulling the hoodie over his head, he opened his mouth to ask Ned a question and -
-
Swinging through the city, Peter was a man on a mission. He knew he was running late, he didn’t even need to look at the time to know it. The run in at the bank took a lot longer than he hoped it would but that was, well par for the course. Moving swiftly he maneuvered around buildings until he was closer to his destination, dropping himself down into an alleyway.
Looking around he spotted the bag he’d haphazardly throw in the alleyway before changing. Glad no one came by to steal it, he hurried over, pulling off his mask as he went. Not bothering to check for anyone, his spider sense would have warned him if someone was around, Peter started to shed his suit.
Within minutes he was changed into a wrinkled but still presentable pair of black slacks and a button down blue shirt, along with a very wrinkled suit jacket. It would have to do, he was pretty sure most people were used to seeing Peter Parker looking a little unkempt.
The last thing he made sure to grab was his Daily Bugle badge and to take out his very nice but also looking a little dinged up camera. Pulling the lanyard over his head he made his way out of the alley, backpack slung over his shoulder. He easily blended into the groups of people heading towards the theater, no one the wiser that Spider-man had slipped in their midsts.
As he had maneuvered his way through buildings, now he maneuvered his way through the crowd waiting outside. It took a few minutes, but eventually, he made his way to the door, lifting his badge for the doorman to see, allowing him entrance.
“Peter!”
As soon as he entered the lobby, a familiar voice called out to him. Looking around he spotted May standing by the grand staircase, looking far more elegant than he ever could be.
“Hey May.”
Giving him an all too knowing smile, she accepted his kiss on her cheek. “Cutting it a little close there, aren’t we?”
Shrugging but not hiding his boyish grin, Peter answered her. “You know how it is. Got a little carried away at the bank.”
Reaching her hand up, May carefully fixed the mess that was his hair and then, licked her thumb and wiped it along the groove of his cheek cleaning whatever dirt or grime was there. “There you go. Just as handsome as ever.”
“Thanks, May. I’m going to go see MJ real quick before the show starts. I’ll meet you at our seats?”
Making his way up the backstairs, he flashed his badge along the way, the press pass allowing him to enter. He arrived at the door with a sign with Mary Jane Watson-Parker written on it and rattled his knuckles against it.
MJ was singing something, he could hear it through the door. “Come on in.”
She was waiting for him with a knowing smile when he walked in. Hair up in a neat bun, face covered in stage makeup, she was just as beautiful as ever. Glancing at the clock over the door, she cocked her head to the side.
“Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?”
Grinning, Peter walked towards her, kissing her lightly on the lips, he knew better than to mess up her makeup. “I still made it, didn’t I?”
Before she could answer the buzzer went off, alerting them that her curtain call was pending. They shared one last sweet kiss before Peter held up his camera. “Picture?”
Posing, MJ turned slightly to the side, tilting her head a little, giving a coy yet inviting smile for the camera.
“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Peter said, lowering his camera, taking another look at his beautiful wife.
MJ laughed. “Isn’t that my line?”
-
Peter woke up all at once.
His body zapping back into life, eyes opening, gasping in air, trying to sit up and move. Everything was out of focus, the figures looming over him weren’t distinguishable at all.
“Peter, sweetie, please don’t get up.”
Head exploding with pain, he squeezed his eyes shut, unintentionally making a small whimpering sound.
“Peter?” The same voice as before lofted through his head, body going lax he let the hands push him gently back to the ground. He cracked a single eye to see the vague outline of a woman, long brown hair, glasses perched on the edge of her nose.
“May?” He questioned, staring at the woman lingering over him. Something was different, he felt like the woman standing over him was a complete stranger and yet, so very familiar.
“I’m right here, Peter. Can you keep looking at me?”
Nodding, Peter looked up at her but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. This wasn’t right, he wasn’t supposed to be here and that wasn’t May.
“That’s good,” May said softly, her hands lessening their grip on Peter’s arm. “You’re okay. Help is on the way.”
May looked up at someone else, Peter followed her gaze. “Ned, sweetie, go open the window. Heaven knows the man won’t use the front door and he might blast through the window.”
“Harry?” Peter questioned, it was the first name that came to him.
The face paused, looking concerned. “It’s Ned, Pete.”
“Ned?”
May put her hand on his face and he turned into it.
“Where am I?” He asked, trying to hold down the panic that surged through him. He couldn’t get a clear grasp on what was happening, who any of these people were, and why he was laying on the floor.
“You’re at home, Peter. We think you had a seizure. Do you remember hitting your head?”
Before Peter could answer a loud sound came from wherever Ned disappeared to and a moment later a different face hovered above him. “Kid? Is he okay?”
“He’s a little confused right now.”
The face above him leaned down. “Do you remember what happened? Did you get hurt on patrol?”
“I was going to MJ’s play,” Peter remembered that memory was there, right up front and present, it was the only one he could fully hold onto. “It’s going to start soon… I need to find May.”
“I’m right here, Peter.”
Turning away from the strange man he looked back to May, but not May. “No, you’re not May…”
“Tony, we should get him out of here. Are you going to be able to fly him?”
Turning back to the man, he seemed to be replaced with a large metal suit and mask that reminded him so much of the Green Goblin, he flinched, trying to move away. A metal hand came to press down on his chest lightly. “Woah there, it’s just me.”
The metal mask slid away to reveal the man from before, looking far too worried. “It’s just me, Pete. Look, Iron Man, right? Your favorite superhero.”
Blinking up at the man, Peter was hit with a strong sense of love and affection and then suddenly everything snapped back into place. Whatever haze that had covered his memories was now gone.
“I don’t see Thor anywhere,” Peter grounded out, despite the newfound clearness, his head was still pounding. The twin looks of relief in May and Tony’s faces put him at ease a little.
“If he can joke, he’ll be fine. Do you want to come with me to the mansion or do you think you can wait for the car?”
Peter thought about it for a moment, he didn’t think he could take a trip in the air with his head as bad as it was. “I can wait, my uh, my head hurts.”
“Did you hurt yourself on patrol?” May asked as he started to try and sit up again, but she put her hand back on his chest. “Stay laying down, until the car gets here.”
“No,” Peter admitted. “I was fine. I had just come home and… I don’t know what happened after that.”
“You scared the shit out of me,” Ned said, Peter looked for him and after a second his face was next to Tony’s. “You just dropped to the ground and started shaking. I thought you’d been electrocuted or something!”
Not knowing exactly what to say, he blinked at the worried faces around him. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s okay, if you’re okay, then it’s fine,” Ned said, not looking any less worried.
“Happy’s here,” Tony started, he moved to pick Peter up but he stopped.
“Please, Tony, I can walk.”
Glancings were exchanged between May and Tony, before Tony changed tactics, holding his hand out for Peter to grab instead.
Taking it, Peter got himself off the ground, May placed her hand on his elbow. He was a little unsteady for a moment or two, but he managed to stay upright. May’s hold didn’t leave his elbow, but Tony let go of his hand. Taking two steps forward, without falling flat on his face, Peter looked over to him. “See? I’m fine.”
“If you even sway a little, I’m picking you up and carrying you.” Tony didn’t look convinced but he let the Iron Man armor go into its casing. Ned made an awe sound from behind him. “That is way too cool. I’ve never seen that happen up close.”
As they walked out the door, Tony was explaining the process to Ned, who kept squeeing every few seconds. Arriving at the car, Happy had the backseat door open for them. He hovered by the door, adding to the concerned group of people surrounding him.
Waving at him before he ducked into the car, he settled himself against the window.
“Ned, I can call your Mom and let her know you’re coming to the Mansion with us, if you’d like,” May said as she entered the car, Ned was following after her a moment later.
“I get to see the Avenger’s Mansion up close, heck yes!” Ned replied in awe, which only made Peter start to laugh.
“It’s not the Avenger’s Mansion,” Tony responded, from the front seat. Peter could tell he was trying to keep things playful and light no matter how worried he was. “If anything it’s the Stark Mansion, named after the person who pays the bills.”
Exchanging looks with Ned the two of them giggled, while Tony rolled his eyes. Closing his eyes, he rested his head against the window, as everyone else kept up a steady conversation around him.