Archive of Our Own ^beta

She was sitting at the edge of the rooftop when the sound of a telltale thwip reached her ears. A pair of red booted feet landed next to her a moment later, making her flinch a little despite already half-expecting it. A hand was immediately on her shoulder, steadying her.

“Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” His voice was smooth as Spider-Man sat down on the ledge with her. “What are you doing on the rooftop?”

She turned her head a bit to look at him. He’d asked the question nonchalantly, and he seemed relaxed sitting on the ledge, but there was an undercurrent of tension in his frame that she could detect.

“Hi, Spider-Man. I’m not planning to jump or anything— you don’t have to worry.” She assured him, turning her attention back to the city below. It was the truth— she’d only come up here to think for a bit. Try to make sense of life. She could feel Spider-Man scrutinizing her, staring at the part of her face he could see to discern if she was lying. When his posture lost some tension, she figured he’d believed her. Therefore, it was a surprise when he didn’t then leave to go save more lives, fight more crime— whatever Spider-Man usually did on a Sunday night.

He cleared his throat in response to her confused gaze. “Alright, I guess we’ve established that you’re not up here to, y’know, —thankfully. So what are you doing up here, then?” 

Possible retorts flitted through her head— ‘What, I can’t be on the roof? Are you the only one allowed to like heights?’ But they didn’t stay long enough for her to even contemplate saying them out loud. It wasn’t like she actually enjoyed heights anyway. She just liked the peace of the rooftop and the distance it brought from… everything.

But Spider-Man was still waiting for her answer, so she simply said, “I’m watching the city.” She swung her legs in the air beneath her, kicking them idly against the brick wall of the building. 

He followed her gaze to the city below them, and she wondered if he saw the same things she saw. Her apartment building wasn’t tall, was just average compared to the numerous skyscrapers scattered throughout their city, so it wasn’t like they were seeing the iconic skyline of New York City from their relatively low perch. But, well… it was still a part of the city. It was her small part of this city— the part that she belonged to, and the part that belonged to her in return, even if her family’s lease wasn’t under her name, even if she didn’t own any of the buildings in this neighborhood.

Spider-Man hummed in acknowledgement, so maybe he understood. It made sense that he would. He protected all the people of the city, after all. Big and small. 

They existed in companionable silence for a long moment, watching the lights flash below them: from the headlights of cars driving by to the lights in the opposite building winking out as her neighbors turned in for the night.

“I like watching the city too,” Spider-Man suddenly said. He leaned back on his hands as he tilted his head up, the lights reflecting off the white lenses of his mask as he looked at the sky. “When I have time, anyway.” He seemed like he was trying to sound lighthearted, but there was a heaviness to his words that marked him differently than the usual witty quips and one-liners that Spider-Man was known for.

It dawned on her then that Spider-Man was… tired. Well, of course he was. She was only a student that had just completed high school and she was tired. Was it any wonder that a hero holding the responsibility of an entire city was exhausted? Spider-Man had been around for nearly as long as she could remember, first becoming active when she was only 7 years old, in 2nd grade. She’d never really paid attention to news of him, even after he became well-known and a common conversation topic among her classmates in middle school and high school.

She had never had a vested interest in the hero, but even she knew, like everyone else in this city, that the vigilante-turned-hero (the label had changed over the years as the city warmed up to Spider-Man) would always save them. But obviously the years of hero-ing would take their toll. 

She’d taken him for granted. And most of the city had too, probably. It was with this mildly shaming and humbling thought that she blurted out what came across her mind next— “Doesn’t it ever scare you? There’s so much— everything’s so…”

She broke off, unsure how to articulate her train of thought further, but Spider-Man finished the sentence for her: “Overwhelming?” He supplied helpfully, his gloved fingers tapping lightly on the brick wall, a near inaudible tp–tp–tp–tp .

“Yeah, things can get to be a lot.” Spider-Man continued, his head now turned to look back at her. She got the feeling that he knew she wasn’t entirely talking about him. The white eyes of his mask didn’t exactly blink, but they scrunched up in a way that gave the impression of him squinting at her. Feeling a bit exposed, she averted her gaze and tried to regain some of her composure.

“I’m heading to college,” she admitted slowly, after a few minutes. “And I do want to go. I’m looking forward to it. It’s just… it feels like a lot—a lot of change.”

She hadn’t told this to anyone before. Not her friends, and not her family— they might try to make her stay and choose a different college, and she’d already made up her mind on this one. She wasn’t sure why she was telling all this to Spider-Man either. She hadn’t even anticipated meeting him tonight like this (or ever), but he was a warm and solid presence on her rooftop, sitting next to her. He was… here and just listening, lending an ear even though he didn’t have to and could have been doing other things.

“It is a lot of change,” Spider-Man agreed. “You’re at a big point in your life. It’s normal and okay to feel intimidated. I won’t lie, there’ll be ups and downs— God knows my own four years of college were… something.”

“You went to college?” She couldn’t help asking curiously. He placed a hand on his chest in mock offense.

“I went— Do you think I’m uneducated just because I’m a ‘web-slinging, wall-crawling menace’?” He asked. “I’ll have you know that I actually have a degree in chemical engineering!”

“Um, sorry.” She apologized sheepishly. It wasn’t that she was trying to imply Spider-Man was dumb, she just couldn’t imagine the hero in so normal and mundane a setting as school. The chemical engineering bit was a surprise too. She wondered if he was a scientist.

Spider-Man coughed a bit, drawing her attention back to him.

“You’ll be okay,” he said. “I can tell you’re tough.” His voice was quiet, but it didn’t feel any less sincere to her. A warm feeling grew in her chest as the eyes of his mask crinkled at her in a smile. 

A hero believed in her.

She had people who believed in her, sure. But those were her friends, and people who either knew her or had an obligation to believe in her. Spider-Man was pretty much a stranger, and although he could easily be lying to make her feel better, she didn’t get that feeling from him for some reason.

The honk of a car horn suddenly broke the silence of the moment, startling her. She jumped a little. Spider-Man leaned over in his seat on the ledge, far enough that she became worried that he might tip and fall down, until she remembered that he could swing on his webs and obviously, could stick to the wall. Superhero, she reminded herself. He sat back upright again just as she peered over the edge as well, trying to see if there was anything to actually be concerned about. Well, nevermind then.

“It’s getting late. Do you live here or somewhere else? I can walk you back.” He offered, standing up and stretching. She heard a few pops as he did— what was he, a dad? Well, Spider-Man was probably middle-aged or getting close to, so maybe. She decided to follow his lead and got up as well, cringing in embarrassment as she heard a pop of her own. Shit. Maybe she should stop hunching over so much. She definitely wasn’t middle-aged.

She craned her neck to look at the sky as she stepped back onto the safety of the rooftop. It really had gotten dark during their chat, night setting in. Spider-Man was noticeably alert as she got her feet back on the rooftop proper, ready to catch her if she lost her balance and fell. She almost rolled her eyes at this— she had come up to the rooftop before on her own and obviously survived the ordeal just fine— but he was just doing his job, so she refrained.

“Oh— uh, it’s okay. I live in this building.” She pointed behind them toward the rooftop access door that she’d propped open with a brick. She’d heard stories of people getting locked on their rooftops after the doors closed without them noticing, and she had no desire of that happening to her. Locked or unlocked, she was gonna put a doorstop there. She started back towards the rooftop access, suddenly feeling her tiredness begin to sink in like a physical entity. She’d just placed a hand on the doorknob when she realized that she’d forgotten something and turned back to face Spider-Man. Thankfully, he was still there. He tilted his head at her.

“Thanks,” she said. “For the talk. And um, sorry I took up so much of your time. I mean, there are probably other things going on.” She gestured to the rest of the city, feeling some guilt and self-consciousness creep in now that Spider-Man had helped her with her own anxiety. What if there’d been other people that needed Spider-Man tonight, more than she did?

“It’s fine, tonight was a quiet night. And… you also helped me. It gets hard to see past New York’s dirt and grime when I’m constantly surrounded by smog and fighting bad guys. You helped me remember how beautiful this city can still be, so… thank you.” He nodded at her, and she nodded back despite not feeling like she’d done anything noteworthy. But she felt better at him saying that she’d helped him, and that there hadn’t been much going on tonight. There hadn’t been other people in actual danger that she took Spider-Man away from.

There wasn’t anything else to say after that, so she opened the door and headed inside the building, eager to climb back into her bed.

The door swung shut behind her, but she caught one last glimpse of Spider-Man turning to look over the city. 

Then he leapt, the sound of a faint thwip following after.