Chapter Text
The first time he heard his name was after a panic attack.
His breathing a bit too quick, his chest a tad too tight. The world around him had suddenly become too much, too big, too noisy, too scary.
His friend had become a villain, burying him under the rubble of a building with one of his bombs.
He was alone and buried under a whole ass building- it'd be a surprise if he wasn't panicking.
With enhanced hearing, he could hear the footsteps outside, the radio of a nearby parked car, the chit chats of people who didn't have to worry about their best friend turning into a super villain and trying to kill you.
His ears were straining for any evidence that outside was still there, that he was still alive, as if attempting to escape from the rubble without him.
Vision blurring at the edges, fingers clawing blindly at boulders, Spiderman, the hero, was crying.
He was far too young for this.
Far too young to keep losing people he loved, far too young to have the world on his shoulders... far too young to be buried under a fallen building.
Barely twenty, Spiderman was. Barely had enough friends to have birthday parties, much less this 20th birthday.
He barely had anyone anymore...
None of that mattered, of course. The Spiderman's brain was going into a full panic, mind becoming blank with static except for the "gotta get out - gotta get out" voice muttering in his head.
"Let them all turn against me,
Let the world go against"
Spiderman's fingernails were bleeding, cracked and filed against the hard bricks. He was too weak, too tired, too small...
"I'm no hero
I'm just a man..."
A sob tore through him, cursing the nearby radio and whoever left their car on playing this stupid song out of all others. He really didn't need to be reminded of a dissapointment he was-
"Where did the old me go?"
Yeah- because Spiderman really needed the thoughts, that kept him up at night and he always pushed away, come bite him when he's being turned into carnita...
However, now Spiderman had something to focus on specifically... The song playing had a slow guitar -which was nice, the tempo slow, a rock ballad.
"My day, is when?"
Focusing on the lento tempo, Spiderman began to take deep breaths, slowing down his panic frantic mind enough to remind himself that the heart beats to music's tempo... this song should help him calm down enough...
"Let me finally go to rest
Let me go rest"
Gosh, he was so tired... he could relate. The heavy tiredness that bore into his very being, not because of blood loss but due to this heavy responsibility that had been given to him... due to his misfortunes.
Spiderman closed his eyes, focusing on the low timber of this artist's voice. Soothing, scratchy, slow and gentle, it seemed to carry so much pain and anguish... he wondered what this man had gone through to sing his woes like so...
Finally, gathering his strengh, Spiderman tried to think rationally, pushing and pulling against loose rocks instead of bashing his limbs against all and everything.
Pain shot through his very being, bones popping with movement and head spinning.
He let himself scream, grunt as he crawled from under the boulders. Shoulders falling as he breathed harshly, teeth clenched as he flopped, lifelessly.
What was the use?
"Let this pain be just a guest"
The lyrics were far too convenient. It pissed him off...
"Let pain be a guest"
But how could he? How could he pretend the pain would one day, like a guest, leave if he was constantly in pain? Always hurting?
He was always hurt...
When would all of this end? When would Spiderman be able to wake up, juggle his sad job and studies like any other instead of fighting for his life every single day? When would Spiderman get the day where he was at peace?
When would Spiderman be able to keep the people he loves close and away from harm?
"I'm no hero
I'm just a man
Where did old me go?
My day, is when?"
Sighing, Spiderman forced himself up, lifting large piles of rubble high, throwing the last bits that crushed his body until he was hit by the 'fresh' New York air.
"My day is when?"
He needed to be a hero... He needed to save his friend, to save his city... To be there-
"My day is when?"
One day, 'his day' would come... Spiderman would like to live to see it. Would like to see it.
"My day is when?
My day..."
Limping away from the bombed scene, Spiderman ignored the many officers that were already there, ready to apprehend him- to take him despite him wanting to help...
"I'm no hero
I'm just a man"
But it's alright. The voice, that hummed quietly to the melody, made him feel as though.
"Am I a man?
Am I a man?
Am I..."
Running towards the sound, he shot a web, swinging through the tall buildings of New York as a guitar solo played.
Injuries ignored, wound waving for attention, Spiderman fell besides an old parked car- green, rusty and missing a wheel.
"Huh" he easily opened the car door and, against his whole moral code, sat down inside.
Closing his eyes, Spiderman listened to the guitar that played, envisioning the strings being played as his eyes became heavy. Keeping his lids open, a chore
"I'm no villain
I'm just a man"
A sound caused Spiderman to opened his eyes. A drug addict (judging by the scent and shakiness) who opened the door froze in place, noticing him and looking at him wide eyed, the CD replaying in the background.
"Look man, I swear I'll give it all back" he began, afraid, and all the Spider could do was blink cluelessly
"I- I just needed the drugs man!" The stranger began to confess, misunderstanding Spiderman's confused state for an interrogating expression
"Life is long done"
Before Spiderman knew, the sun had began to rise and he was suggesting a rehabilitation centre to the man and had a bag full of drugs and stolen items ready to hand to the police.
"Thanks Spiderman" the man hugged him and Spiderman did that weird move where you don't know what side or how to recieve the hug
"Of course" he patted awkwardly as the other go of him at last, the heavy scent of smoke making him sneeze.
As he waved the other, bags webbed to his back like a weird SpiderClaus he suddenly remembered
"Wait!" He called "What was the name of the artist of the song playing just now?" He pointed to the car that had the CD of that one song on repeat for whatever reason.
"Oh, that?" The man returned, pulling out a CD and giving it to Spiderman "here, you can have this" he smiled charmingly with his crooked teeth "least I can do"
The front of the CD was decorated with a man's butt in red leather, the hole right where their... butthole would be. On the back it was the same guy in leather but instead his crotch along with a list of song names.
Spiderman stared down at the picture and blinked, putting his finger through the hole of the CD to form a ... Anyway, he was utterly confused as he read
"Deadpool"
Still, despite the weirdness it was the CD, he returned home humming to the tune of the song.
"Who saves me then?"