Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"You fucking vigilantes think that you're so powerful," says the criminal as he slams his fist into Peter's already bloody face. "Let me show you where your place really is."

He slams Peter against the floor and he has nowhere to run, and doesn't have the power to fight back. By losing Ned, MJ, and May, he lost the hope he needed to fight back. He doesn't even feel angry anymore, he just feels exhausted and cannot find the energy to fight back.

But he still goes out and tries to fight his opponents because he wants to feel useful to the world somehow. Since screwing up so many things, he started believing some of the bad things that are being said about him, and he cannot get rid of all the negative rumors following him around.

Peter's tingle goes crazy moments before the criminal throws him against the wall again and then punches him in the stomach violently.

It's a punch he could've dodged if he was so inclined, but a part of him believes it's not that bad. Maybe a part of him even believes he deserves it.

"I could easily kill you if I wanted," states the criminal and Peter believes him, because he can't find the energy to disagree.

He holds his hands up to make an attempt at defending himself, but he knows the attempt is too futile to ever work.

A figure shows up behind the criminal and a strong kick knocks him down on the ground. Only seconds later, the criminal ends up lying on the floor, passed out.

Peter isn't sure what to say, and the only thing he could think of was, "Thank you."

"No problem," days the figure and fixes his sleeves. "Are you okay? On a scale from one to ten, how hurt are you?"

Peter can't believe the man is asking something like that and he can't believe himself when he ends up answering him. "Like a six, maybe. I don't know how permanent the injuries are."

"I can't help you with that," quietly answers the stranger and stops right in front of Peter. "You can ask for help with other things, though. Even people you don't know might be willing to help you."

Peter knows he doesn't have a lot of options.

He's been beaten bloody time and time again and he has no home, no family, and nowhere to start over.

The man's staring at him, and Peter knows that a good part of his face can be seen. He should be worried that everything was for nothing, that his identity will be revealed once again, but he isn't.

He doesn't have the power to feel worried anymore, he can only feel hopeless and wonders how much lower he can fall from there.

"You should be careful where you go. This city's quite dangerous at night." It's said so matter-of-factly that Peter feels almost relaxed at the man's voice.

The man doesn't point out that Peter's face can be seen, and Peter couldn't be more grateful for that. He feels as if he can trust him because of that, because he hasn't tried killing yet. "I can take care of myself."

"I wouldn't say that judging by your screams. You're a kid who can't take care of himself and who bit off more than he could chew."

That's an accurate description of Peter, but Peter doesn't want to admit it. It's not a description he wants to follow, but he knows that anyone who saw him like that would say that.

He wants to fight back and tell this masked man that he can take care of himself, and he used to be able to take care of his loved ones back when he still had those. But it wouldn't mean anything to this stranger, because strangers don't offer kindness for free. They always want something in return, and this would do nothing to appease the stranger's hunger for a favor.

"What do you want from me?" asks Peter, cutting straight to the heart of the problem. "Why would you save me?"

The man paces around the room for a bit, staring down at the floor. "I didn't want to pick up your scraps in the morning. Or have someone else do it instead of me."

It's a shockingly honest answer. Peter knows that the criminal would kill him if the man didn't put a stop to it. Peter certainly wouldn't put a stop to it, and if the criminal didn't get bored of him, Peter would be dead by now.

"Thank you again for that."

The man nods and turns in his direction. "What's your name?"

For a moment, Peter's worried that he wants to know his real name before he realizes that isn't the case.

"I'm Spider-Man," Peter says wearily. He isn't sure why he's telling him, but he's probably asking out of politeness, not because he can't recognize him. It might be some sort of game that he plays with everyone.

The figure in red nods slowly and whispers, "Ah, the hero killer."

Peter wants to tell him that he didn't kill Mysterio, that all the rumors are false, but he doesn't have the power to fight back. He's too tired for that. "Aren't you supposed to tell me what your name is?"

"Daredevil," answers the man with a little hesitation. For a second, just a split second, his confidence falters and he seems just as vulnerable as Peter before returning to his previous confident self.

His name is the opposite of comforting, Peter realizes, but that doesn't make Peter want to run off and hide from the stranger. On the opposite, it makes him want to stay.

Tony's alias was the same. Iron Man. It wasn't something that brings comfort, it was Tony's actions that did that, and it seemed to be the same with Daredevil.

When the first police car arrives into the parking lot in front of the abandoned building, Matt nods his head at Peter in acknowledgment and runs off, leaving Peter all alone.

He doesn't know why, but Peter stands up and escapes through the window as well. He has no motivation right now, but he can maybe find some in the future, maybe enough to live a normal life once again.

Peter's a ghost, and if this other ghost is willing to help him, then Peter's just willing to accept his help.

Chapter Text

Peter wants to take better care of himself.

He wants to keep living just so he can help others from now on. He's not the best at it, but he's doing better than he was when the whole Daredevil fiasco happened. He should be fine now, or at least he hopes he will be.

He pays his rent now, and the lab around the corner looks like a perfect place to start looking for work. He's not sure that he's guaranteed to get a job, but he hopes, and that's enough for now.

A part of him feels as if he'll never be good enough for jobs that require that much expertise, but he can try. He's done work for Stark Industries, and he's designed a lot of things for himself, he just doesn't have any proof of either. Or at least, any proof that could get him a job, since pulling out his Spider-Man suit probably wouldn't be a great thing to do.

He walks into the coffee shop and waves at MJ behind the counter.

He's developed a habit of doing that recently, and he knows he shouldn't get close to her again, but he can't help it. He doesn't talk to her or Ned at all, besides ordering coffee—and an additional bagel from time to time—so at least he's staying somewhat true to his original decision.

"Your usual?" asks MJ, and smiles at him.

Peter can't really believe that. She's smiling at him, the way she did when they were just getting to know each other.

"You remembered," he says, and then immediately adds, "Yes, please."

On a more pessimistic note, his usual is a normal coffee, and the bagel from time to time, so it's not particularly difficult to guess. But still, the fact that she recognizes his face is enough comfort to get him through an entire week of this strange life he now has.

He pays and doesn't spare much more time inside the coffee shop. If he did that, he would spend too much time staring at MJ and Ned, and they would start to notice, which would make things incredibly awkward when he came to order coffee again.

So he leaves with one final, "See you tomorrow."

Outside, Peter sees the lawyer. The one who advised him when his identity got revealed and people angrily threw bricks through his windows.

A part of Peter wants to go ahead and talk to him, but he can't remember Peter, so there's no reason for him to do so.

He wishes he could be as stable as the lawyer, because the lawyer has his life together, and Peter is just starting to pay rent properly. For so long, he relied on Tony and May—and even Happy—to take care of him, and that left him clueless on what to do and how to behave.

He turns around and starts to walk towards his apartment.

He'll deal with the lawyer if he ever gets into any legal trouble.

Peter puts his mask over his face and swings out the window. The snow is still fresh on the roofs of New York, and his feet get cold whenever he lands on the ground, but he ignores it. There's an alert about a break-in not far from where he lives, and he's going to do his best to help.

When he arrives on the scene, it doesn't take him long to find the apartment that's being broken into.

He climbs up the wall and jumps inside, silent as a spider, and waits in the dark corner of a room.

He sees two figures, one on the floor and one standing up, right next to the first one, in the living room. He wants to web the one standing against a wall, leave it up to the police, but a closer look tells him that something's off about the one standing.

The man—or what he assumes is a man—isn't hitting the one lying on the ground, or taking anything from the apartment.

The one on the carpet, on the other hand, is loudly complaining and apologizing. "I won't do this again, I promise. I'll get a job, I'll do community service, just don't kill me."

It doesn't take long for Peter to figure out who the man that's standing is. He's surprised he didn't notice him earlier.

Peter climbs onto the ceiling and crawls into the living room, doing his best to stay unnoticed. He doesn't say anything, he just continues to observe the scene, trying to make his mind up about where he wants to take it from there.

Luckily, it's not up to him to make the decision.

"You didn't take my advice," says Daredevil, his back still turned to Peter. "I told you to stay in the safe parts of this city from now on."

Peter can't help but be surprised that the vigilante even remembers him, but he's also confused how Daredevil noticed his presence. He isn't showing signs of any powers, so there should be no way for him to be aware of Peter being there without looking at him.

He's going to find out. "I'm not very good at staying out of trouble. Even though I should sometimes."

"You really should stay out of trouble. I don't want your body to be the first thing the cleaning staff finds when they arrive here tomorrow morning," Daredevil says as he turns towards him, but there's an air of inattentiveness about him, one that Peter can't quite put his finger on.

Peter still doesn't understand the vigilante. He wants to, and he's thought about him a lot, but he doesn't know who he is, what his motivations are, and where he comes from.

The second of those points is the most important one, but it wouldn't hurt knowing the other ones as well. Especially not if they're operating in the same area.

Peter wants to ask him a few questions, but Daredevil clears his throat and decides to speak up first.

"You need allies in a world like ours, Spider-Man," he says with a content expression on his face. "You're too young to be able to take care of yourself."

Peter doesn't want to believe his words. "You don't know anything about me. And you don't seem to have any allies either."

"I learned how to take care of myself. But I hope you don't have to go through that to realize that others can help you quite a lot."

Peter understands that there's a lot more the vigilante didn't say. He sounds wounded, and it reminds Peter of how he was after he lost Tony. It took him a long time to move past everything that happened, both on Titan and after, and he's still not sure that he's put everything behind him. It still follows him around—Tony still follows him around—even though he doesn't want it to.

Peter doesn't want to tell the vigilante that he doesn't know how to look for help. He had help, but he screwed it all up and now he's left all alone in this cruel world. He doesn't know where to start looking for allies or family again.

If he said anything, Daredevil would tell him to look at those close to him, but he wouldn't know the truth. He wouldn't know that Peter has been forgotten by those he loves the most, and loving and trusting new people is something he cannot afford, because he knows he'll lose them sooner or later.

Daredevil holds out his hand. "If you ever need help, I can offer it. And I know others who will help as well."

Peter can't help but feel shocked at that, but he still holds out his own and shakes the vigilante's. He won't take him up on that offer, but it's nice enough to know there are still people out there who are willing to help for free.

Chapter Text

The streets are awfully quiet during the week. Crime is somehow higher on the weekends, as if criminals only operate when people are taking a break from work and school.

Because of this, Peter tries to spend all his time focusing on his studies. He has a lot of years or catching up to do, even if he learned it once already. He needs to pass a great number of exams before he can apply to any jobs he wants.

Sure, working at a coffee shop like MJ is an option, and he's more than happy to let jobs like those save his ass for a little while, but May and Tony used to tell him how much potential he has, and he doesn't want to throw it away. Plus, he feels like he's stealing those jobs from people who didn't screw up and need them for good reasons, not to continue buying coffee from the person they love.

The classes are usually in the late afternoon, or early in the evening, and Peter can't be any more grateful for that than he is.

On the way home, the streets are mostly quiet, which is a rare occurance, even for the less crowded parts of Queens. It's peaceful, but not empty in an every way.

Peter frowns when he hears something coming from the small alley next to the big street. He doesn't have his suit with him, so he won't be much help, but he still goes ahead and checks the alley.

He sees a man on the floor, wearing a strange costume that seems almost familiar, but he can't recognize it from afar. The man is alone and he doesn't seem violent, at least not violent enough for Peter to be unable to handle him, so he takes a few more steps in his direction. When he finally gets close enough, the costume starts becoming more and more defined and it finally hits him.

It's Daredevil. In flesh and blood—and god, there's a whole lot of blood—lying on the floor right in front of him, and he looks like he's about to die.

"Sir, how can I help?" Peter asks without hesitation. The vigilante has saved him a few times, so it's the least he can do for him. "Should I call an ambulance?"

Daredevil tenses up and turns to him. "No, no ambulance. Could you just help me up?"

Peter does that without hesitation. He doesn't need to be told twice to help a man in need, especially one who's helped him as many times as the vigilante has. It feels like he owes it to him, even though he'd do it even without owing him anything.

"Thank you," mutters the vigilante before turning around. "I think I can take care of myself from here."

Peter wants to believe his words to be true, but he doesn't look fine. At all. "Sir, I think you should really go to a doctor. Or at least let me help you get you somewhere safe."

The vigilante doesn't say anything and instead looks off at the distance for a little while. It looks like he's thinking about something and trying to decide whether he wants to tell Peter or not, but Peter can't tell what it is.

"Sir, I really think you shouldn't stay here for much longer. The people who attacked you might come back." To finish the job, he wants to add, but he doesn't need to. 

Daredevil seems to understand, because he immediately turns back to him. "Thank you for your help, Spider-Man. But I think I can take it from here. I don't need lectures on vigilantism, especially not from you."

Peter takes a few steps back and raises his hands up in defense. The vigilante's eyes are covered, and he now realizes it's a part of his costume, so how could he know that Peter is Spider-Man? Did Strange's spell not affect him and he somehow remembered Peter's identity?

"I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong person," Peter says, but he doesn't sound convincing at all, even to himself.

"Don't lie to me. I can tell when you're lying," Daredevil points out and turns to him again. "And don't worry, I couldn't reveal your identity even if I wanted to. I've never seen you."

Peter wants to ask how that works, how he can fight without seeing anything, but he doesn't want to expose himself any further, and he sure as hell doesn't want to get any closer to the vigilante who could potentially ruin his life all over again.

"Are you going to help me get home, or will you continue pretending that you aren't who you are?"

The vigilante still looks just as hurt as before, so Peter know he should help him, but he doesn't know whether he should do it or just leave. Judging by all the other times he's seen Daredevil before, the man should be able to take care of himself.

But Peter's not one to leave an injured person alone, even if his life is out in danger. He puts his life on the line for complete strangers, so he should be able to do the same for the vigilante who knows who he is. It shouldn't be any different.

Because of that, he pushes those thoughts aside and tells himself that he can think about it all later and try to figure out why the vigilante knows his identity and if he can truly trust him.

He puts his arm around his waist and lets the vigilante transfer some weight into him. He's a little heavier than he looks, but it's not something Peter can't handle.

"Where to?" Peter asks.

They make their way through the dark cities of New York, only attracting few glances, which is a whole lot better than what Peter expected.

When they finally arrive in front of where Daredevil told him to go, Peter's surprised to find an old building with no lights turned on on the inside.

"Are you sure this is where you live? It doesn't look very homely."

"Yes, I'm sure. Thank you for your help." Daredevil stands in front of the building hesitantly as if he's unsure if he wants to walk in or not. "I think this goes without saying, but please respect my anonymity, will you?"

"Of course. And I would say we're even now."

The vigilante smiles at him and shakes his head. "Almost even, but not quite there yet."  

Chapter Text

If Peter were a more careless person, he would think that the Devil didn't see him.

Because as close as he was, he's still not sure if the man looked at him at any point whenever they met. Not directly at him, at least.

But he knows better. He knows that people look at people or things without making it obvious and that Daredevil seems to have enough skills to do that kind of thing. He's always so hyper-aware of his surroundings that it would be impossible for him not to see Peter's face.

Peter would also like to think that he has a pretty memorable face, even though that isn't a good thing in his line of work. People usually manage to remember him after only seeing his face once which makes it all the more important for him to hide his face as well as he can.

But when he walks through the streets of New York, nobody comes screaming at him, announcing to the world that it's Peter Parker, the Spider-Man.

So he silently thanks Daredevil even though he doesn't see him for the next few days. Because he's carrying the one secret that could ruin his life all over again.

They meet again on a Thursday night next to one of Peter's favorite restaurants that was getting robbed before a masked vigilante put an end to it.

Peter has so many questions for the man but he wants to start with the most important one, the one that he's been dying to ask and the one that could potentially result in having his life ruined a second time.

"Why don't people know who I am already?" calmly asks Peter. There's no need to start any sort of problems, but he's also keeping his distance carefully. "You had days to tell people who I am."

The vigilante turns around to face him, but Peter has a feeling that he's not really looking at him, not in the way other people do.  He doesn't look intimidated or even shocked that Peter is there, which shouldn't come as a surprise to Peter, but it still does.

Daredevil paces around the street for a few seconds before approaching the street light. "Why would I tell people who you are?"

"You have no reason to keep my secrets," he answers without hesitation. Mysterio revealed his secret and most other people would if they could get something from it, which is why it makes no sense that Peter's face isn't yet splashed on the cover of every major magazine in the country.

"But I also have no reason to expose you. And I've never seen your face, so I can't know what you look like." The words leave his mouth slowly and it takes Peter even longer to process them properly. 

"You avoided looking at me," Peter points out as he slowly climbs down the street light. "You didn't want to live with the responsibility of knowing who I am."

The vigilante laugh. He just laughs, and it's almost as shocking as what comes after. "It's not that I didn't want to look at you, it's that I couldn't see you."

His answer doesn't make much sense, not in the way that Peter wants it to. He wants a coherent answer "I was right next to you. What do you mean you couldn't see me?"

"I don't want to see the faces of others, and even if I wanted to, I couldn't."

The more information Peter learns, the less he feels that he knows. The vigilante's answer isn't what he's looking for and he isn't even sure that it's the truth.

"Why couldn't you see me?" he asks a second time, hoping that this time around the second he's going to get will make some more sense than before.

It looks like the vigilante considers whether he should answer him or not for a few moments before answering, "Because I can't see anything. I'm blind."

Peter stays unconvinced, his facial expression not changing at all from the one before. "But I've seen you fight. You have to see who you're fighting to be able to fight as well as you do."

It has to be some sort of joke, because there's no way that what he's saying is true. Not in the world Peter currently lives in, at least. People have to see to fight properly, and it's not just an optional element of vigilantism. Every superhero he's met until now was able to see just fine, if not better than the general population.

The vigilante smiles and shakes his head. "We all have our own secrets. Mine is that I can do all the things others can without seeing anything. Well, maybe not shoot web, but you get my point."

Peter isn't really sure he gets his point, though. Not entirely, at least.

He has so many questions, but he isn't sure where to start and he isn't sure how the vigilante will respond to him asking them. Maybe he might take it as offensive and then Peter would lose the only ally he currently has, a luxury that he currently can't afford.

"I know you have questions," starts Daredevil and it makes Peter wonder whether he has mind-reading skills as well. "But I don't know if I give you the answers you want. You're only going to start asking more questions if I tell you anything."

Peter's sure that would be the case, but the thirst for knowledge inside him is far from being quenched. It's not that he wants to know everything about the vigilante, but if there are fighting techniques that he can learn, he should probably know about them so he can learn them and start being better at helping people. Still, he has a feeling that pitching that idea to the Devil wouldn't go as well as he would want it to.

Or at least, it would uncover facts that he's not ready to hear right now, and maybe won't even be ready to hear in the future.

He wants to just go ahead and ask, but he'll leave it to another, more suitable, time.

Chapter Text

Peter really, really wants to know how to fight without keeping his eyes open, especially when a random criminal throws a smoke bomb right in front of his face and makes it difficult for him to see.

It would just be so easy if Daredevil taught him how to do it, but he has no reason to trust Peter, especially not trusting him enough to teach him dangerous tricks that Peter could then use against him.

Peter grunts as he kicks the man into the wall, making him fall right through it and hit the ground in the room next to it. Someone should really tell these New York City landlords to make their walls a little thicker than they currently are because Peter breaks one without effort every other week.

He webs the criminal's hands to the floor and calls the police, letting the criminal explain his own case to them as he leaves through the window.

Maybe he can't fight with his eyes closed, but he's still pretty badass even without it.

Peter sees the lawyer again, this time right as he steps out of MJ's coffee shop and holds the door open for him, and adds a quiet, "There you go."

"Thank you," says the lawyer, and for a second Peter has a strange sense of a deja-vu, but he isn't sure where he could be getting it from.

When the lawyer came to visit him to give him some advice after Quentin Beck revealed his identity, there was no point at which he thanked Peter or anyone else in the room. But something about his voice seems so familiar and Peter just can't quite put his finger on it, no matter how hard he tries to do it.

And he doesn't want to bother the lawyer any more than he already did, so he just answers, "No problem." He then lets the door close behind him as he starts to walk away.

The glass door is suddenly pushed open behind him and the lawyer is looking in his direction. "I believe this is the first time we meet outside of business-related circumstances."

It takes Peter a moment to realize what he's talking about. His first instinct is to tell him that they've never really met, but as soon as the realization hits him, things suddenly start making sense, although not perfectly.

Saying anything would probably give his identity away, but Peter knows that if the vigilante wanted to expose who he is, he could've done it already, so he shouldn't be worrying about that. Or at least, it should be the least of his problems right now.

Still, it's not like he can say anything that would make the situation any less awkward. He isn't sure where to go from there and he's not sure the blind lawyer knows either. It's like they're playing a game where neither of them knows what to do so instead they just do nothing and stand there in the middle of the doorway.

Peter looks inside and he sees MJ staring at them, and he doesn't even want to know what she's thinking about the entire situation. She probably gets her fair share of weird strangers every day, but Peter doesn't want to be one of them.

Lucky for both him and the lawyer, Matt finally decides to speak up. "Do you want to come inside? I'll buy you a coffee," he proposes as he holds his cane in his hand.

Maybe it's the way he says it, or maybe it's the fact that someone finally treats him as a human being for the first time since the spell, but it makes Peter forget all self-preservation instincts he has. In other situations, he would never go ahead and accept a stranger's help, especially if that stranger is as skilled as Daredevil, but he really has nowhere to go right now and nothing to do, so he'll take whatever he has.

"Sure."

He follows the lawyer inside the coffee shop and he smiles at MJ again who just looks at him with a confused look on her face. He would explain everything to her, but she now has no interest in his personal life, so that would be pointless. He can just hope that she knows he isn't on drugs and is actually a normal person, as normal as one can be in New York.

They sit down at a table and order their drinks without saying anything to each other. Peter orders another black coffee, as he has a feeling he's going to need it, and Matt follows his lead.

The lawyer holds his hand out and Peter takes it. "Matt. Murdock."

"I'm Peter Parker."

It should feel like an invasion of privacy, telling a stranger his name, but it's not like that with Matt. He has nothing left to lose, not like he did the last time around so he can always go back and

"So, have you put any thought into stopping with the vigilante business?"

The question is rhetorical, or at least Peter thinks so. Being Spider-Man is the only thing keeping his life together right now, and he can't let it go, even if it would be a whole lot easier to just be a normal teenager sometimes, with normal problems to worry about.

"Not really, I kind of like it right now."

Matt chuckles and nods. "Ah, yes, I also like getting bruises on a very regular basis."

The bruises are a downside of the job, but Peter doesn't mind them that much. His powers come with higher resistance to punches, and he likes to think that he heals faster than normal people do. It's the one advantage he currently has on them.

They continue to talk about the little things about being a vigilante, neither of them sure of where to lead the conversation from there. It seems very futile, the way they turn around the same subject in circles, but there's no way to start a conversation when they're not in costume.

"You sound happy here. Anxious but happy," points out Matt, and Peter has to congratulate his mood-reading abilities.

At the same time, he can't help but blush and he hopes that MJ doesn't see him. He's been embarrassed enough in one day. "Yeah, I think so. Life is slowly starting to get better."

"There will always be low spots, but it gets better. Trust me, I would know."

Peter would know as well, but he doesn't want to explain his entire life story to this lawyer he only knows when he's wearing a mask. And even then, he's not even sure that they would really count as friends.

A part of Peter wants to ask the lawyer for help. He sees some of Tony and some of May in him, but he can't ask a complete stranger for help, and he isn't even sure what he wants help with. He just knows that he wants things to start getting better.

And they are better, but they're still not nearly as good as they used to be before the entire spell incident, and he doesn't want it to be the end of his life. He wants to start moving on and start living again, even if that pain and suffering will follow him around forever.

Making friends seems like the perfect place to start. Even though Matt is a lot older than him and probably doesn't need many friends, Peter still feels semi-confident that they could get along together, with the mask on and without it.

Matt seems to have the same idea because he takes a contact card from his wallet and puts it on the table next to his cup of coffee.

"I can tell when someone is struggling, and I know that you're too scared to ask for help from anyone. And really, I don't even know if you have anyone to call."

Peter wants to tell him that he's insanely popular and that he has a great support system behind him, but that would be a lie neither of them would ever believe, so he stays quiet.

"Just call me if you need help, Peter," mutters Matt as he slides Peter the contact card across the table. "But anyway, I have a feeling I'll be seeing you around on the field from time to time."

Peter can't help but grin at that. Yes, he'll be seeing him around.