Chapter Text
There's an ache. An ache so deep within Peters heart that echoes throughout his hollow bones, leaving behind a sense of exhaustion and fear. A feeling that he often finds himself running from- hoping that one day he can escape the impending doom that lingers everywhere he goes.
Peter can almost hear the annoyance in MJ's voice as he continues to swing through Queens, New York.
"There are other ways to do this, Peter. You aren't alone and don't you dare forget that"
At least, that is what she would say if she were here. But she isn't. MJ is just another ache, another bullet digging into his muscles reminding him of what has happened. What he caused to happen. A reminder of everything he failed to do. He was Spider-Man for fucks sake and if he can't save his friends and family. Then who can?
The pain in his chest spreads, nearly choking Peter with the reminders of what he lost. Blood rushes in his ears as he struggles to hold back a sob. It's too much, all too much.
Peter squeezes his eyes shut, blindly following his spidey-sense to find even ground. His feet land on a rooftop of an apartment complex- knees collapsing underneath him. He can't breathe, it all hurts too much. The ache in his heart, the pounding of his head. The sounds of the city echoing around him, bouncing around his skull, threatening to crack.
It's all too much.
He doesn't know how long he sat on that rooftop trying to catch his breath. Trying to catch his bearings and ease the fear that rushed through his veins.
He doesn't know how long he sat there, staring off into the distance blankly; watching the mural of Iron Man on the wall adjacent mock him.
If only he was here, then maybe everything would be okay. Mr. Stark would have been able to prevent all of this, all the while wearing a grin. As though nothing was wrong. He would pat Peter's shoulder with a huff. Maybe he would give him a lesson, or maybe provide silent comfort and lead him to the labs. It's hard to predict what exactly Mr. Stark would do. But he knows- he knows deep down that if his mentor, his father-figure was here. He wouldn't be in so much pain.
There wouldn't be tears staining his cheeks every day. There wouldn't be a heaviness in his throat with an ache in his stomach, wanting to rid of what little he ate that morning.
Aunt May would still be alive, perhaps even being proposed to by Happy.
"Pe…"
MJ and Ned would be by his side still, watching Star Wars late into the night.
"…et.."
He wouldn't be so alone in a world where he no longer exists.
"Peter!"
Peter takes in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly. "Karen?"
"There's a strange increase of gamma radiation at Creedmoor Psychiatric Center, I suggest checking It out before the radiation rises to dangerous levels"
He stands up, stretching his shoulders and shaking out the tremors in his legs as he walks towards the ledge of the building.
"What category are we at?"
"Category 2, verging onto Category 3"
"Shit."
Peter- no. Spider-Man. Right, Peter Parker doesn't exist. Not anymore.
Spider-Man takes a deep breath, the white lenses of his mask closing in-sync with his eyes.
No more crying, no more fear. There are bigger fish to fry. He leans forward, feeling his stomach do flips as gravity pulls at him. His eyes open and he falls.
The warm summer air whips around Spider-Man as he freefalls. A rush of adrenaline shoots through his body, buzzing at the tips of his fingers. He shoots his arm out and a web flies through the air- sticking to the worn bricks of an apartment.
The web tightens and Spider-Man swings in a big arc- flying, soaring through the air. A sense of freedom fills his lungs. No matter how many times he swings through his city, it never gets old.
The citizens of Queens whoop and holler from below. Shouting out hellos and wishing him luck. They know- they always know when something is up. From the way he goes speeding through the air, with a few less flips and twirls. Something is up, and after all that has occurred in the last few years. After all that Spider-Man has done for them. The least they can do is wish him luck.
It takes Spider-Man a little longer than he hoped to reach the abandoned medical facility, as it sits at the edge of Queens with not many buildings to swing off of. The Creedmoor Psychiatric Center is an unsettling building. The outside is imposing- standing tall with yellow concrete walls. One wouldn't know it was even abandoned till they entered the halls.
Karen scans the building, looking for heat signatures- finding only one warm body on the 9th floor. Great. If it's only one person then it's more than likely an upcoming supervillain.
Groups of people doing nefarious things, Peter can handle, they're creepy but tend to be more small time criminals (ignoring the fact that Vulture worked in a group). But he's found over the years that if there's a lone person with highly dangerous materials or weapons- well, he just might be truly fucked.
Spider-Man latches onto the side of the building and starts crawling his way up, quietly humming a song Deadpool got stuck in his head. Counting the windows to ensure he makes it to the correct floor.
Pausing at a window, He peeks in, looking for any signs of movement before opening the window. He slips in with ease, landing on his tippy toes to reduce any possible noise with the creaky floorboards.
The room he ended up in is an absolute mess. The ceiling has caved in, leaving the ground covered in moldy insulation. Some spots look kicked up and pushed off to the side, as though someone was exploring. The walls are horrid, mold is painted over with spray paint- graffiti left behind most likely from some teenagers. On one wall, there's a noticeable pink heart with two initials.
Spider-Man can't help but snort at that, man what kind of weird ass dates do teens go on these days?
Overall, aside from the insulation on the floor- the room is empty. But something is just not right. There's a hum in the walls, and static electricity in the air. Whatever is causing the uptake of gamma radiation, it's near- just down the hall.
With a twitch in his fingers and a cold chill down his spine, Spider-Man quietly makes his way down the hallway. The walls are just as gross as the room he came from, old and new graffiti painting the mold. Glass windows that sat in the heavy metal doors are shattered, crunching underneath his feet. Picture frames with faded photos are tilted, clinging on desperately to the nails that are just barely nailed in.
DANGER DANGER RUN
Peters spider-sense screams in his ears, desperate to get him away from whatever it is. But instead of running away, to get safe, he pushes onward. Running quickly and silently down the hall, he finds it. The very thing that makes his senses scream and goosebumps raise.
In what used to be the 9th floor lobby is a large circle metal platform with all kinds of wires and do-hickeys attached to it. Thick rubber covered wires trail along the floor, wrapping around the platform; connecting to oversized auxiliary ports.
The platform in its self is a mess, as though there wasn't enough material to properly build it. Pieces of scrap metal overlap being nothing but a tripping hazard. Lights glow a bright blue between the cracks, signaling that it is indeed powered on.
His spider-sense has only started screaming louder.
"Karen, how long do we have till Cat 3?"
"15 minutes"
Grunting, Spider-Man looks around. Eyes following the wires towards a control center that sits between two elevators. If he thought the platform was a mess- Jesus. It's like a spiders web of wires and knots; dangling from the wall and ceiling. One wrong move and someone could trip and choke themselves.
Approaching the control center, it turns out to be just a laptop with multiple monitors. Each one flashing with warnings and codes. Spider-Man presses his index finger to an unused usb-c port of the laptop. Watching as his suit spreads out its nanites, attaching themselves to the port like its own memory drive. Successfully allowing Karen to take complete control over the laptop.
BEHIND DANGER MOVE
In just a split second, Spider-Man twists his body into an unnatural angle. Just barely dodging the laser beam that took out a monitor. He whips around, shooting his hand out for a web to attach itself to the mystery man and boy does he look crazed.
He stands a distance away, holding a scrappy laser gun- one that glows the same blue as the platform. A manic grin spreads across his face showing off his yellowing teeth. The man is horribly hunched, his neck nearly forming a 90 degree angle parallel with his feet. His white coat and green dress pants are in pristine condition. But the eyebags he carries proves he is the one behind the machine.
"Ah, Spider-Man! You're just in time"
"Just in time for what exactly? Foiling your plans?"
"'Foiling my plans!' Ha!" he laughs. "On the contrary. You've fallen right into my trap!"
"Uhhh, I don’t know man. It kind of seems like I'm the one who has you trapped."
This man… is definitely unique for sure. He continues to talk but Spider-Man instead focuses on Karen who begins to speak in his ear.
"There seems to be an issue with the power source, I am unable to shut it off. The blueprints share similarities with Tony Starks time travel machinery"
Spider-Man tenses, shoulders hitching up to his ears. Of-Fucking-Course the tech here would be stolen. But why- or what is this Dr Doofensmirtz rip-off planning on doing with the tech?
"Why are you doing this?"
"Well, you see, It all began on the day of my actual birth. Both of my parents failed to show up."
"Oh- that- that’s sad man but uh hey, I gotta stop this from powering on sooo"
Another web shoots out, stealing the gun from the scientists hands. Spider-Man lunges forward and proceeds to wrap him up in webs- sticking him to the wall.
"You just stay here like a good evil scientist"
Spider-Man rushes off towards the platform, tracking the wires- trying to determine which would be the best to rip off. At least one of them should power down the platform… right? He hesitates for a little too long, he's never seen the blueprints for Mr. Starks time travel tech- and even if he did. This platform is far too janky to function anywhere like Stark Tech.
"Karen, hypothetically if I was to just.. I don’t know destroy a bunch of wires. Would that work?"
"There will always be a 50/50 chance of either shutting down or explosion"
The platform glows brighter, swirls of blues and purples have begun to form in the air. Sparkling like the craft worlds version of herpes.
Doofensmirtz rip-off is cackling from behind Spider-Man, "You're too late, Spider-Man!"
"… yeah I'll take that chance"
Spider-Man sticks his webs to a few clusters of wires and yanks hard. Ripping them apart and away from the platform. Yet it does nothing to shut off the tech. The swirls continue to grow up and up- radiation levels spiking into category 3.
He's got to keep going, keep destroying it. More webs fly out, attaching themselves to the panels and thick rubber wires. But before he's able to dislodge them, Spider-Man is swept off his feet, floating in the air and being pulled towards the center of the platform.
There's a strange pull, tickling at his feet. One so familiar, yet not at all welcome. Pain spreads throughout his veins, tearing apart his muscles and ligaments. A scream is ripped from his vocal cords as it just keeps spreading further and faster. It feels as though his skin is being melted off in a vat of acid, as though he's being dusted again.
He pulls the webs with all his strength. In hopes to stop the machinery. To stop the pain from spreading. To not die again. The wires don't budge, he's growing weaker- far too weak to rip them apart.
Peter looks down, watching as half his body is being torn apart- disappearing into the glowing portal. Tears stream down his cheeks, and he just barely holds back a choking sob.
He's disappearing again. Being torn apart molecule by molecule with no one to save him. No one to remember him or realize he's gone.
He looks up one last time and stares down the wire's his webs are still connected to. A manic laugh echoes throughout the room as fear nearly paralyzes him. And with a scream of pain, Spider-Man pulls- tearing apart the wires in one last sad attempt to stop the portal. To stop the pain.
An explosion bursts in front of Peters face, the flames and impact tearing at his mask. All he can feel is pure, blinding pain and a warmth of fire slowly eat away the nanites. All he hears is the manic laughter of a mad scientist, echoing in his skull as everything turns black.