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Peter is swinging. He feels the air through his new, flashy spandex costume. No Karen to guide him, no EDITH, absolutely no technology besides his old web-shooters. If he was like Peter 2, he wouldn’t even need those, but that was a little disgusting and he doesn’t need to contemplate the idea of shooting webs out of his wrists. Or other body parts. Yikes.
He continues to swing around New York streets. He’s already dealt with the police reports that came in but decided to stay out a little longer. The feeling of falling down just to catch himself at the last possible moment was exhilarating and so absolutely freeing, Peter can almost forget all his problems while twipping out another web. That is all he has now. Just this feeling, his webs and Spider-Man.
Peter Parker doesn’t exist anymore, at least not to other people. His best friend doesn’t know him, his girlfriend doesn’t love him, Happy doesn’t recognise him. No one knows who he is, no one remembers him. Not even Strange. Not even-
May.
May was his everything, and he was her entire world. They only had each other, the only family they ever needed. He can’t smell May’s terrible cooking in the kitchen anymore, can’t hear her humming in the living room, can’t see the excitement on her face whenever a new college letter arrives.
He can’t feel her hug him.
She was so strong, the strongest woman he’s ever known, especially in her last moments. She stood up with a mortal wound and wouldn’t let herself rest until she made sure he was alright. The only mother he’s ever known, will ever know. She died protecting him.
He was too greedy, and she’s dead because of it.
He still remembers the smell of rotting flesh, impossible to forget. Mr Stark’s dying body was half-burned and with all the debris, blood, and dust in the air he could hardly smell it. But May was right in front of him, bleeding out, and he covered above her for long enough he remembers every single detail. The smell of blood and death, her tousled hair, and her eyes.
Her dead eyes.
Peter will never forget the darkness and emptiness of May’s unseeing, dead eyes. She was pale, but her eyes were so dark they looked fully black, irises mixing with pupils. He felt her soul leave, but this time it won’t return five years later. It won’t ever return at all.
She isn’t coming back.
He’s all alone. No one to help him, no one to hug him, no one to tell him it’s going to be okay.
No one to remember him.
Just swing.
He needs a job, rent is due the first of the month. He can’t go to college anymore, doesn’t have the money, can’t apply for a scholarship when there’s nothing on his record. He doesn’t exist.
Don’t think, just swing.
Mr Stark would help him. He was Peter’s mentor, he once even mentioned helping him get into MIT. Tony could even offer him a job without a degree. Happy and Pepper would too.
But Happy and Pepper couldn’t remember him, and Tony was dead.
Dead, dead, dead.
Just another corpse Peter Parker leaves behind. He ruins everything he touches. He loses everything he cares about. Everyone he loves ends up dead.
Dead, dead, dead.
No. Stop it.
Just swing.
He is cursed, that’s it. He needs to stay away from those few people he still loves, and who love him, even though they can’t remember him. He promised Ned and MJ he would find them and reunite with them. But he can’t, not when they are so happy without him. Not when they are so safe without him.
MJ got hurt because of him, and he swears to himself he won’t ever let her get hurt again. And if losing her is the price he must pay, Peter will gladly pay it.
If you love someone, you must let them go.
Peter swings.