Chapter Text
It's definitely a cliche, rain during a funeral, but Peter doesn’t find the movie-like scene amusing or even ironic, though likely you wouldn’t either, watching the last of your family being buried six-feet under. It was a nasty day, and not only because of the funeral. It had snowed the night before, but today was just slightly warmer, enough that the rain was hard and cold and hurt when it hit exposed skin, but the snow had started to melt, so the ground was covered in dirty slush instead of a soft white blanket. Peter couldn’t be bothered to care that his shoes and pants had been drenched in muddy slush, his thoughts on the people who came to say good-bye to his aunt.
He watched the funeral from afar, not wanting to deal with questions of who he was. No one there would know him, not the nurses from May’s work, who he’d known since he was a child, not Mr. Delmar, who probably was needed at his shop but took the time to be there anyways, and not Happy, who despite all the lost memories still somehow knows who May is was. Ned and MJ were missing, without Peter in their memories they wouldn’t have met her, and even if they did, they likely wouldn’t have a reason to come.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there for, wet hair sticking to his forehead, clothes thoroughly soaked through. The frozen winter air seemed to run through him as though he wasn’t even there, in any meaningful way he wasn’t. Hot tears pulled him from his thoughts, burning his frosty skin; he must have been lost for a while, as only one person still stood before May’s grave. He watched as Happy stood there, still as a statue. It was a long few moments before Happy finally turned away, following back up the path to leave, it was only when Happy was mere feet from him that he realized he wasn’t standing all that far off the path, the man passing him without a word.
Peter only walked toward the grave after he was sure no one else was around. His eyes flickered to the ones next to it, finding it hard to look at her name etched into the stone. Just next to May’s was Ben’s, it seemed like a lifetime ago that he’s lost his uncle, to the world he’d been gone for nearly a decade now, for over half that time Peter had been gone too. So much had happened since that night, the night he’d got his uncle killed. He couldn’t help but wonder if they regretted taking him in, he’d gotten both of them killed, he wouldn’t blame them if they did. At that thought his eyes met two more graves, Richard Parker and Mary Parker. It was hard to admit, he’d never said it aloud, but he’d never felt much of a connection to his parents, beyond flashes of out of context moments he couldn’t remember them, they were strangers to him, characters from stories his aunt and uncle would tell him. When he imagined his parents they weren’t the ones who came to mind, instead the faces of Aunt May and Uncle Ben appeared, for in all actuality, they had been his parents.
He’d stalled long enough, avoiding the reality of the situation, he forced his gaze back to the fresh grave, his eyes met the name on the headstone, and suddenly he felt like he’d been hit by a train all over again. His body tensed at the feeling of all his air gone, his legs feeling as though they’d snap at any moment. Bile rose in his throat as May’s final moments flashed before his eyes, his knuckles turning white at his grasp on the flowers in his hand. He managed to swallow down the bile in his throat as the present came back into focus. He found himself reading the name over and over.
May Parker. May Parker. May Parker. May Parker. May Parker. May Parker. May Parker. May Parker. May Parker.
His own sob broke his trance, and he found that he was kneeling on the muddy, cold ground. He wasn’t sure when he’d gotten on the ground. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get up. There was a part, just a small part, maybe more than just a part, that wished that six-feet of ground were covering him too— instead. It was probably a good thing that his brain seemed surprised at that thought, it had been a long time since he’d had thought something like that, ten years to the world, five to him.
Eventually shaky hands managed to place the small bouquet of flowers at the base of the headstone. Eventually shaky legs managed to allow him to stand. Eventually shaky breaths became less so. And eventually a not shaky Peter walked up the path, bottle cap securely back on.
——
Spider-man was a hero. Spider-man was an Avenger.
Spider-man is a— no. Spider-man isn’t a hero. Not anymore. He never was.
Spider-man does did help people.
Spider-man is gone now.
Brown eyes stare at a lump of blue and red fabric, crumpled up in a drawer, until moments ago hidden under t-shirts and hoodies. He hasn’t dawned the suit in a month, not since that night. He’d forgotten where he’d put it. Of course the world hasn’t forgotten Spider-man, no, they’ve only forgotten Peter Parker. It was about a week after Spider-man disappeared that posts, articles, video, and the like, had begun appearing.
‘Spider-man missing?’ ‘The Menace finally defeated?’ ‘Is Spider-man dead?’ ‘Where is Spider-man?’ ‘Spider Menace vanishes to escape the repercussions of his actions’
He pushes a shirt over the suit hiding it from view, before closing the drawer.
Spider-man is dead.
Though the web-shooters constantly attached to Peter’s wrists may say otherwise.
——
Finding a job when there’s exactly no record of your existence is probably even harder than you’d think. He was lucky to have found a place to stay, even if it was probably the smallest apartment in Queens if not in the entirety of the city. It didn’t matter how small it was though, or how loud the couple next-door that spent hours screaming at each other were, or how much the guy down the hall gave him the creeps, or how the upstairs neighbors’ shower leaks into his apartment every time they use it, because all he need was a place to say, while he figured out— well— everything.
He was pretty sure he’d searched the entity of Queens for a job at this point, he’d found some odd jobs here and there, but no one wanted to hire him for the long term, so Peter found himself standing in a packed subway car in the middle of morning traffic, hoping he’d find something for work today.
He couldn’t give you a great answer as to why he’d choose Hell’s Kitchen, though it might have something to do with Peter’s slightly fanboy tendencies, toward not only heroes, but vigilantes as well. Hell’s Kitchen was home to Daredevil, a vigilante that seems to almost never leave his borough, and one Peter, well— Spider-man had never met. Peter had run-ins with the occasional vigilante, though it seemed, for the most part, they avoided him. Maybe he was thinking too much into it, most of them stuck to their area of the city, only occasionally interacting, so maybe they weren’t avoiding him. At least, that’s what Pete had thought until he’d seen a video surface online of Daredevil, Iron Fist, Luke Cage and Jessica Jones, it was a short clip, the four of them together in the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, no context. Peter wasn’t even certain when the video was from, but he’d felt a little left out, and yes, he realizes how stupid that sounds, considering Spider-man is dead, has been for two months now.
His interest in Daredevil wasn’t the only reason for his choice, in any case it would probably be for the best if he didn’t meet Daredevil as Peter, considering that would probably mean he wasn’t in the best of situations.
His reasoning was behind the door now in front of him, the plaque by it reading ‘Nelson, Murdock, and Page’. At the bottom of the sign the name was rewritten in braille.
Was it his best idea to seek out the man that had helped in clearing his name, at least legally, before it all became too much for him to bear? No, but it was his only idea. Odd jobs and his meager savings would only sustain him for so long. He wasn’t necessarily hoping for a job, though a listing for a part-time secretary was the reason going to them came up, sure he could file paperwork, answer calls, or something; really he was just hoping they might know someone who was looking to hire, even if it wasn’t them.
——
Matt Murdock had been stuck on the idea that have forgotten something at least somewhat important for two months now. After about a month and a half of dwelling on the thought, he’d brought it up to both Foggy and Karen, but both of them couldn’t come up with anything he may have forgotten. Their lack of concern at it or their assurances that it was probably nothing important didn’t ease his mind, but as they needed to focus on finding another case before they went bankrupt, he’d pushed the nagging feeling down as best he could. It was the sound of a strangely rapid heartbeat that suddenly pushed that feeling to the surface once again.
Someone was standing outside the office’s door, their heartbeat— nervous? anxious? It was fast, like running from someone fast, but they were standing still, breathing seemingly pretty normally, maybe slightly elevated, but nothing to match the heartbeat. They teetered back and forth on their feet, definitely nervous about coming inside. He could smell a pine scented soap on them, the subway (ew), and the vague scent of water? not necessarily a mildew, but like they lived somewhere with water damage. He was certain he’d never met this person before, but that nagging feeling that he’d forgotten something told him that might not be the case.
Had he met them as Daredevil? Someone he’d helped? Someone he’d fought? Why did this feel important? Why couldn’t he remember? Finally he heard the door open.
——
Peter was certain he’d been standing out there way too long, he’d zoned out, he’d been doing that a lot recently, so he was unsure how long it had actually been. Finally he opened the door, the small chimes alerting those inside. Beyond the doorway was what looked to be a small waiting room. A few chairs and a couch, a coffee table between them, an empty desk facing out toward the entrance, and three doors, each with a name plate.
A man soon exited one of the offices, he had long, but not as long as Thor’s brown hair, and immediately gave Peter a smile when he saw him. They hadn’t met before, he vaguely remembered Mr. Murdock mentioning his partners, and considering the trio of names in the law firm’s name he wasn’t surprised. It didn’t matter much who he met, none of them would know who he was anyways.
“Hello, Foggy Nelson,“ the older man held out his hand. Peter accepted the handshake, careful that his nervousness didn’t cause him to grip Mr. Nelson’s hand too tightly.
“Peter Parker.”
“How can I help you, Peter?”
It was then that another door opened, the man that appeared Peter did recognize, Mr. Murdock, or well— Matt Murdock. They —aunt May and himself— had spoken with him about clearing his name with the whole Quentin Beck… incident. Help clear him of accused murder that is, of course while it might have worked in the eyes of the court, it didn’t entirely help public opinion.
“Oh Matt, we’re just in front of the desk,” Mr. Nelson spoke up.
Mr. Murdock made his way through the office and over to them without the use of his cane, Peter supposed it was probably unnecessary if you know a place well. He held out his hand to Peter before he spoke, somehow now exactly where he was, though Peter didn’t really question it at the time.
“Matt Murdock—“ Peter now accepted a second handshake, “—Peter, yes?”
Peter’s eyes widened, did he remember him? Had Dr. Strange somehow missed him? It only took a moment to realize how stupid he was being, Mr. Murdock had just overheard him introducing himself.
“Y-yes,” he spoke, his expression relaxing once again, well at least as much as it was before. “I saw that you were hiring a secretary,” he finally remembered to explain.
“Oh so you didn’t kill anyone, good,” Mr. Nelson spoke with a light chuckle, but Peter tensed at the comment. “I’m just kidding kid, you gotta resumé with you?”
Peter was quick to pull the folder with the copies of his resumé out from his backpack, he doubted it would be enough, and if they decided to check any of it, well his records would be unlikely to remain. “I sent it to the email listed online as well, but if there’s a better one to send it to—“ he handed over one of the copies from his folder. He’d paid to print a few as most of the places he was applying to were locally owned and didn't do much with online application.
Mr. Nelson accepted the papers, “Doing some serious job hunting huh? Just move to the city?”
——
Matt found himself a bit lost in his head, the idea that he’d forgotten something now the main thought in his mind. Something told him whatever he’d forgotten involved the young man now standing in their office waiting room.
Parker. While the name Peter didn’t sound at all familiar he was almost certain he’d heard the boy’s surname, though it wasn’t much to go on considering it isn’t particularly uncommon. He’d have to look through their files from the past few months, maybe he was a relative of someone they’d spoken with because of a case. It was rare for him not to remember though as they weren’t exactly drowning in work.
After a long moment he tuned back into the conversation, being brought back by the sudden speed up of Peter’s heart, it had done so twice now. Once when Matt had introduced himself, though it was so quick he’d brushed it off, but then now as well after Foggy’s joke. The kid didn’t really seem like he could kill someone so maybe he just found the joke in poor taste.
“No, I’ve lived in Queens my whole life, I did just move out though.”
Peter’s comment didn’t seem entirely like a lie, but Matt could tell it was definitely more of a half truth, he was leaving something out. He could feel Foggy shift, almost like he didn’t entirely believe the kid either. The man didn’t call Peter out on it though, maybe something Matt couldn’t discern, he could tell the kid was pulling at something around his wrist, a bracelet maybe? Did Foggy notice his nervousness from that?
“Well we’re free right now so why don’t we chat? We can sit over in the waiting area—“ Foggy walked to one of the chairs “—Matt, I'm taking the chair on the right, Peter, why don’t you sit on the couch?” The narration was for the purpose of appearance, Matt already knew where they were. He soon followed, taking the chair left of Foggy. “We usually hire college students for temp work, you in school Peter?” Foggy questioned his tone light, though Matt could tell he’d decided there was something up with Peter, just not sure if that something was necessarily bad, his tone and heartbeat lent more to concern for Peter than suspicion.
“I’d like to, if I can manage it. I’m seventeen—“ he let the explanation trail off.
“High school then. You moved out pretty young huh?” From Foggy’s tone it seemed like he was putting something together.
“It wasn’t really planned.”
Matt could feel Peter lighting tapping his foot, his heart rate increasing again past its already somewhat fast pace. He noticed again, Peter’s breaths were a bit quick, shallow, like something was just slightly constricting his breathing. As the boy shifted nervously in his seat he heard a slightly rough fabric moving against the cotton of what was likely a button-up. Matt wasn’t exactly sure what it was yet, but whatever he was wearing under his button-up and pullover was constricting his breathing.
“Yes, that happens sometimes,” Matt immediately noticed Foggy’s change in demeanor, he wasn’t questioning what the kid was hiding anymore, his heartbeat calmed, his voice slightly softer, similar to that which he used with victims or witnesses.
With the jump in Peter’s heart rate, he’d noticed the quick change as well, and it put him on the defensive, as though whatever it was that Foggy found out wasn’t meant to be known. Peter pulled a bit at the front of his jumper, his shoulders pulling forward just slightly. He let out a breath, one of decision.
——
Peter’s senses might not be as tuned as they could be, but he was able to feel the shift in Foggy, there was a silent knowing, and suddenly he was trying to figure out where he’d fucked up, what had given him away? His instant reaction was to pull at the front of his jumper, trying to loosen it from his chest. He leaned forward slightly, his shoulders coming forward in an attempt to hide anything that may have been noticed. He realized what Foggy had come up with, the reason he believed he was on his own, and immediately he knew he couldn’t let them believe that was the reason, they might not know who May is, but he could never let someone think that of his family. So he decided to tell the truth, at least what he can of it.
“My aunt was— she passed away two months ago. It happened suddenly, an accident. I’m almost eighteen so—“ he let out a shaky sigh, “—I figured it didn’t make much sense to not just—”
Peter wasn’t exactly expecting he’d have to talk about aunt May today, he spent most of his time trying to keep her out of his thoughts, it hurt to push away memories of who had been his last remaining family, but every time he thought of her, he saw her in that building, bleeding out on the floor of rubble. Watching her die because of his mistakes, his selfishness. He found himself wiping wet eyes.
“Sorry,” He spoke just above a whisper, feeling childish tearing up in front of two people he didn’t even know. He fiddled with the loose bracelet he had on.
“Oh kid—“ Mr. Nelson started, clearly surprised at the actual reason he was on his own, “—I’m sorry for your loss.” The man looked to Mr. Murdock, seemingly hoping the other man would say something.
After a long moment he spoke, his voice knowing, “It is hard, losing your family—“ he seemed to watch Peter for a moment, though he knew that wasn’t actually what he was doing, still though it felt like Mr. Murdock was staring directly at him, “—it’s hard not to question why you’re the one left behind, hard not to blame yourself, even if you’re blameless.”
Peter tried desperately to keep the bottle cap on, to tighten it so nothing spilled. He felt his shoulders tense, his eyes aching with held back tears. He hated hearing ‘sorry for your loss’ after uncle Ben had died, everyone said it, all the time, to him, to aunt May, it felt like it was the only thing he heard for months, but no one had said that since aunt May died, not to him. That alone may have been enough to open up the bottle, but Mr. Murdock knew, he made it so clear in just a few words that he knew what Peter was thinking.
——
Peter suddenly found a warm cup of hot chocolate in his hands, Mr. Nelson giving him a calm smile. He took the cup, muttering a quiet thank you, not entirely trusting himself to speak at a normal volume. He felt ridiculous, breaking down in some law office with people who didn’t know him, crying like a child just at the mention of his aunt. He hadn’t cried since the funeral, he’d kept the bottle cap secured for two months without a problem, why’d he have to break? He could have just let Mr. Nelson believe whatever he wanted, but no— he couldn’t, even without knowing it, he couldn’t let May’s name be tarnished with that. He couldn’t let someone believe she’d throw him out just for being who he is. The question still rattled him though, how had he known? Peter took a moment to convince himself that as long as neither of them had an issue with him it didn’t really matter.
He took small sips from the hot chocolate, slowly calming himself, pulling his mind away from memories that now only resided in his mind, forgotten to the rest of the world. After a few long moments he looked at the two men. Mr. Murdock had sat there, silently, giving him the time he needed. Mr. Nelson had only left to their small kitchen before returning with three cups of hot chocolate and after giving one to the both of them before returning to his seat.
“I’m sorry for all of this—“ he let out a sort of bitter half chuckle half sigh, “—I’m sure I haven’t made the best impression.”
“You’re fine Peter, we certainly won’t hold it against you, you definitely aren’t the first person to cry sitting on that couch, won’t be the last either.”
Peter watched as Mr. Murdock reached to push Mr. Nelson in his chair after that comment.
“What? It’s true!” Mr. Murdock seemed to glare at Mr. Nelson, even if that didn’t make much sense. “Fine, fine. So kid, you decent with computers?”
Peter kept in the laugh that nearly came at the question, “yeah, I’d say I’m decent with computers.” He was certain the amusement could be heard in his voice, but neither man seemed to question it.
——
Matt realized pretty quickly that Foggy was already set on bringing the kid on, even before his loss was brought up. He didn’t mind, it would give him time to figure out why he’d caused that nagging feeling of forgetting something to come to the surface again. Plus it seemed like the kid was hiding something, not in the sense that he is trans, Matt had figured that out after finally realizing what the article of clothing that seemed to be just slightly restricting his breathing was. He admittedly felt a little stupid how long that realization had took him considering the point of a binder is to constrict your chest so of course it would at least mildly alter your breathing. He’d not mention it of course, he felt a little off, having found out without being told.
But Peter was certainly hiding something, his movements were careful, extremely so, and not just due to anxiousness. He seemed as though he was holding back with every movement, like he’d break something if he put a comfortable amount of force into it. Even the tapping of his foot, something he’d been doing basically since he sat down, was soft, like he’d even trained his nervous tic to be subdued. It was like he was holding back a tidal wave, maybe even a tsunami, every movement seemed controlled.
——
It wasn’t long before they’d hashed out the details of bringing Peter on, part-time for the time being, honestly mostly because they didn’t have the funds right now to pay for more time, but the kid seemed grateful all the same. He was getting ready to head out when Karen burst through the door, seemingly on a mission.
“You will not believe— no that’s a lie, you’ll absolutely believe it, but it’s still vile. Jameson, that—“ she stopped herself for a breath, “because Spider-man’s gone he’s—“ it was only then that she noticed an extra person in the room.
Peter actually seemed to be interested in what she had to say, further proven by him speaking up, “you saw that article too?”
The question sent Karen right back on her tangent, “Yeah! What’s his problem? First he had it out for Spider-man, now Daredevil?!?”
“What are we talking about exactly?” Foggy spoke, looking between Karen and Peter. He tried not to focus on Matt at the mention of Daredevil, for the best their new office assistant didn’t find that secret out.
“J. Jonah Jameson from the Daily Bugle,” Karen said, seeming to believe that clarified her point.
“That guy always screaming about how Spider-man is a menace?”
Matt had a feeling of where this was going, he generally tried to avoid reading anything written about Daredevil, the time it took and the annoyance that came from it definitely wasn’t worth it, beside Karen always seemed to let him know if it was something important.
“He’s offering money for pictures of Daredevil, since he’s so rarely caught on camera,” Peter explained further, “he does the same for Spider-man, but since he’s— not around right now, guess he’s moved on.”
“Does he not realize how dangerous that is?” Foggy seemed exasperated just at the idea of it.
“I mean it’s not like Daredevil’s gonna hurt someone just trying to take his picture…” the boy sort of mumble spoke, seeming uncertain about defending Daredevil, maybe because he was in a law office, or he was a teen thinking about doing something stupid. Matt decided to assume the latter just in case.
“Please don’t tell me you’re thinking about roaming around Hell’s Kitchen looking for Daredevil,” Matt could feel a parental tone in his voice, he’d barely known the kid two hours and somehow he had a feeling dealing with him was going to make his nights even more sleepless from worry.
Peter’s lack of response was enough of an answer for everyone in the room to look at him. He raised his hands in a sort of surrender, “rent’s expensive, and he actually pays decently well, even if he’s kind of a jerk…”
“This is definitely not a discussion, even if Daredevil won’t do anything, the guy doesn’t exactly keep the best company. Also are you implying you’ve done this before?” Foggy sounded increasingly exasperated at the prospect of the kid having sought out trouble for the chance to make a few bucks.
“Well I live in Queens, Spider-man was never exactly hard to find, and we needed the extra cash…” Peter shuffled uncomfortably.
“Daredevil isn’t exactly your ‘friendly neighborhood Spider-man’, you can’t go chasing after him, you’ll get yourself hurt, or worse,” Karen warned, she didn’t even know the kids name and she seemed to already take on the idea of the other two, that they were the ones to keep him out of trouble.
Matt knew it wasn’t what Peter was hiding, but now it was obvious that this kid probably had a habit of getting into trouble, even seeking out Spider-man was dangerous, he might be friendlier than your average vigilante, but he seemed to get into a lot more Avengers level situations than the rest of them did. He understood the kid probably wanted to help out his aunt, but there had to be better options.
“Peter, promise us you aren’t gonna go looking for Daredevil.”
“I won’t go looking for him, but if I see him I’m not passing up the opportunity.”
The room sighed, “I think that’s the best we’re getting,” Foggy resigned.
“Oh yeah, with all this Bugle business we didn’t introduce you two—“ Foggy started “—Peter this is Karen Page, our other partner. Karen, Peter Parker, our new office assistant.”
Matt heard the sudden skip in Peter’s heartbeat at Karen’s name, it seemed to go back to its usual speed soon after, but the reaction was a bit odd. Maybe Peter knew her writing? It was possible but based on how he’d tense up for a moment as well it seemed like something more important, maybe Karen was the name of someone he knew? Someone he’d lost maybe? Matt couldn’t be sure and he didn’t plan to ask, they’d already had the kid crying in their office once today, it didn’t need to happen a second time.
“Nice to meet you Peter. Based on the fact that I can already tell you like to get into trouble, I think you’ll fit right in around here,” she smiled offering a handshake that Peter quickly accepted.
“I’m not sure I’d say I like to get into trouble, Ms. Page, it just kind of happens,” Peter tried to claim, oddly enough it didn’t actually seem to be false from what Matt could tell.
“Yeah, Matt tries to claim that too,” Karen commented with a laugh.
——
Soon after their introductions Peter was heading out, going to look for a second part-time job, they’d suggested a few places around, hoping he could find something. They new the minimal hours they could give him probably wouldn’t be enough, Karen was currently contacting a few people at the the New York Bulletin to see about some freelance photography work for the kid. Almost immediately it seemed the three of them had decided the kid was theirs to care for, even if he didn’t know it yet.
“So what are you gonna do if he does decide to come looking?” Foggy questioned as he cleaned the mugs in their small kitchen’s sink.
Matt let out a sigh, he had a feeling he’d probably run into the kid eventually, he could only hope it wouldn't be in a particularly dangerous moment, though those were few and far between in his line of work, arguably in either of them. “Keep him out of trouble I guess. He didn’t seem to be lying about not going out to look for Daredevil, but somehow I think we’ll still end up running into each other, pretty sure Karen is right about him finding trouble often.”