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New York City had a certain air about it, a feeling that no person – native or tourist – could resist. Maybe it was the promise of opportunity, the feeling that anything could happen amid that concrete jungle. Whatever it was, the magic of the Big Apple seemed to have bewitched everyone wandering its streets that frosty December.
Everyone except for Peter Parker.
The boy in question sat at his dining table, pen tapping idly against the wood as he stared at the blank sheet of paper in front of him.
Just write the list, Peter. It’ll make it easier.
It had only been a few weeks since Peter had sacrificed everything he knew to mend the multiverse, but the wound felt fresh like a knife deeply entrenched in his gut. He still wasn’t used to the silence. It was stiff & suffocating, like a noose around his throat: a constant reminder of his endless shortcomings.
This list was supposed to change that. Granted, it wouldn’t make everything perfect, but it’d keep him going. Give him something to work towards. His pencil found the paper once more and he gave it a final tap before scribbling out his goals for the upcoming year. These goals, apparent as they were, would help him navigate this unknown reality he’d subjected himself to.
It would never be like it used to – how could it? – but it’d make it better. That was all he could hope for.
- Get a job
It seemed like a simple enough task, but for a boy who’d lost his very identity, it proved to be far more difficult than he’d anticipated. Getting a job meant having a resume, and with no experience (that anyone remembered), Peter was about as useful as a fifteen-year-old.
At least he had potential at fifteen. Now, he wasn’t sure what was left for him.
After days of relentless toil, he finally managed to get an interview at a grocery store near his apartment and spent his day crafting a believable resume, hopefully one that would land him the job. The boy had gone down a variety of dodgy avenues to procure a Social Security number and official ID for said interview, and as long as the grocery manager didn’t look too closely at it, he’d be golden.
As the boy made his way towards the market, his mind drifted, back to a memory he’d all but forgotten.
The coffee shop was bustling with people from all over, but the brunette only had eyes for the boy carrying two steaming cups of coffee towards her.
Peter smiled at MJ, taking the seat opposite her and leaning over her laptop screen. “So? You done yet?”
The girl shook her head, turning the laptop around to her boyfriend before leaning back in her chair. “I think it is, I just — it’s my first job. I want to make sure it’s perfect.”
Peter scrolled through the resume, eyes flicking from the screen to MJ’s adorably furrowed brow as a smile stretched across his face. “You’re overqualified, they’d be crazy not to hire you.”
The brunette couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she took the laptop back. “You have a biased opinion.”
“Biased but right,” the boy hummed, taking another sip of coffee. “You’re going to be the best worker Peter Pan Donut & Pastry Shop has seen this side of the East River.” He closed his eyes, turning the thought over in his mind before adding, “Maybe I should get a job, start saving up for college. Spider-Man isn’t helping with that, that’s for sure.”
The girl laughed, shaking her head with a smile. “I think you’ve got enough on your plate, what with the entire world knowing your secret identity and all. Stick to using that big brain of yours and get a scholarship or something.”
Peter chuckled, eyes crinkling as he admired the girl. “We’ll see about that.”The boy felt a warmth blossom in his chest as he settled into a comfortable silence. Things couldn’t get better than this.
The boy slowed his pace as he reached the store, a manila folder clutched tightly in his hands as he headed into the building. It felt odd, trying to continue on with life when the only things about it that mattered had been ripped from his hands, but it was better than succumbing to the pain.
Besides, it wasn’t like he had another choice.
2. Get a GED
Now that he’d gotten himself a steady form of income, the next step was to further his education. MIT had been the plan, and although that was out of reach now, the least he could do was get a high school diploma to get him somewhere .
Contrary to what the average person might think, the GED was a difficult examination, and Peter dedicated himself to its study like a man possessed. His schedule for the next three months was simple: study, patrol, sleep, repeat. The mundanity of it all nearly drove the boy insane, but it was better than the absurdity of living without a purpose. He’d come this far for a reason, even if said reason wasn’t evident yet.
Peter wasn’t sure if he kept the habit up as penance for his guilt or out of his own volition, but every Thursday evening, he’d pick up an order of Pad Thai and make his way to Cedar Grove Cemetery. He’d spend the night trying desperately to connect with the only family he’d ever had, praying that she could hear him, wherever she was. He hoped May was proud of him.
God, he really tried to make her proud.
On the night before his GED exams, the boy crouched in front of the granite headstone, eyes scanning the epitaph he’d read a thousand times before.
When you help someone, you help everyone.
“Hi,” he said, voice cracking slightly before he cleared his throat, willing the tears in his eyes to stay put for just one goddamned second .
“I, um — I have my exams tomorrow. ‘M not too worried about them, to be honest, it’s all pretty straightforward. I just — ” He sucked a sharp breath between his teeth, hands clasped tightly together. “I’m scared about what comes after. When I pass this, I could go to college, get a degree, do more with my life.” He paused, as if he was giving her a moment to respond, then continued. “It’s not at all like we planned.”
The silence that followed was the loudest he’d ever heard, and the stinging reminder that she’d never speak to him again was too much to bear quietly. “I hope I’m doing okay,” he mumbled between sobs, tears dotting the earth beneath him. “I promise I’m trying my best.”
After what felt like forever, Peter rose, giving May’s grave a halfhearted smile before retreating.
“I love you.”
He could almost hear her say it back. And although it would never truly be enough, he could get by on that.
Almost.
3. Save the world
The entire reason Peter had sacrificed his life was to save the world (or at least his corner of it), so it was only expected that he upheld his duties as Spider-Man. He’d been doing it for upwards of two years; it should’ve been easy.
It was anything but.
Grief was a funny thing, Peter found. It crept up on him like a thief in the night; barely noticeable and only recognized when exposed to the light. He hadn’t even realized how deeply it had consumed him until he nearly failed someone because of it.
It started with small things. He’d hold back when he was fighting garden-variety criminals, let them get a couple of punches in before he webbed them up. Stay out on patrol longer than he needed to, only heading home when the exhaustion was too much to bear. Avoid sleeping for fear of coming across the ghosts of the people he used to know.
The sleepless nights and the seemingly permanent bruises ate away at his resolve, but the boy refused to acknowledge his slippage into despair. And then, one night, everything changed.
The streetlights seemed annoyingly bright as Peter swung from rooftop to rooftop, barely present as he scanned the streets for anyone in need of assistance. A shriek a block over drew his attention and he dropped down into the alley, soul heavy as he prepared himself for another beatdown.
He wasn’t expecting to find what he did.
The girl in front of him couldn’t have been more than ten years old, and she was just about hoarse from screaming as she attempted to yank her bag away from her assailant. Peter intervened, grabbing the mugger’s arm and braced for the blow that followed, taking it without so much as a flinch. The attacker, forgetting the girl, rained punches on him as he stood there, numbly accepting each hit. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter noticed the girl, standing still, staring with a mix of confusion and fear as her supposed saviour silently took a beating.
The child lifted her bag high above her head and brought it down with a resounding thud onto the back of the mugger, instantly regretting her decision when the thief turned back to her.
Time seemed to slow around Peter as he came to terms with the truth he’d been avoiding for far too long. Here he was, punishing himself for the loss he’d incurred, while a child was doing his job better than he did. His eyes met the girl’s and he was surprised to find a steely resolve as she braced herself for the inevitable strike from her attacker.
He was supposed to be protecting her. That was why he’d sacrificed his livelihood. To protect the innocent, the people who couldn’t protect themselves. He had no right to give up; not after everything he’d gone through. He’d made a vow to protect his city, and he’d be damned if he didn’t follow through.
The vigilante snapped back into action and leapt from the ground, tackling the mugger and knocking him out before webbing him up in a tight cocoon. Peter turned to the girl, voice soft as he examined her for any injuries. “Thanks for helping me out there, kid. You okay?”
The girl nodded, still shaken from the encounter. “He was hitting you pretty hard.”
The boy chuckled and tilted his head to one side. “What’s your name?”
“Michelle.”
Oh.
A lump began to form in his throat and he swallowed it back, extending a hand to Michelle as the two left the alley together. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”
As the hero escorted his younger companion home, he couldn’t help but marvel at the similarities between her and the girl he’d left behind. She was smart — top of her class — with a shockingly dry sense of humour that left him in stitches by the time they reached her home.
Peter knelt in front of the young girl, pausing for a moment before speaking. “You’ve got something that a lot of people don’t have, and that’s bravery. Bravery’s not about being fearless, it’s about being scared and doing the right thing anyway. Promise me you’ll try to be brave every single day.”
Michelle nodded vigorously and threw her arms around Peter, squeezing him tightly. “Thank you, Spider-Man.”
Peter felt himself smile — something he hadn’t done in forever — and hugged her back. “You ever need me, I’m just a swing away.”
As he watched the girl skip up the stairs to her building, he couldn't help but reflect on the lesson she’d taught him. He’d been lucky enough that she’d given him hope, but for the rest of the city, Spider-Man was their hope.
Even if he hadn’t found a reason to go on for himself, he’d go on for Michelle. For every one that needed something to hold onto. Spider-Man was a symbol of resilience and always would be, no matter what.
4. Get MJ to remember
Peter had done the math countless times over. He’d talked to Strange, begged him to see if there was a spell, a loophole to let MJ remember him.
There was no solution.
It didn’t stop him from lingering around their old haunts, as if physical proximity to his most cherished memories would somehow reignite them in her mind. He might’ve figured out everything else, but he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that she just didn’t remember.
Not after everything they’d gone through.
There had to be a way.
He just hadn’t found it yet.
Peter found himself pacing the roof of Midtown High, face buried in yet another quantum theory textbook as he hunted for an answer. His pursuits proved fruitless and he fell back, lying flat on the concrete as he stared at the sun.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine MJ beside him, just like she’d been on that crisp fall day when their only concern had been their academic futures. Everything had been so much simpler then. Granted, the entire world knew he was Spider-Man, but his world had been intact. Now? All he had to keep him company was memories of the life he’d lost. A burning reminder of everything he could never get back.
The boy had worked hard to gain a semblance of balance in his new life, but there’d always be a missing piece, one that he could never fill. MJ was the love of every life he lived. A life without her was not worth living.
That was what brought Peter to where he was now, standing across from Peter Pan Donut & Pastry Shop with his fists jammed in his pockets. He could see her through the front window, handing a coffee to a customer with one of her signature half-smiles.
She’d been his entire world, and now, she was a stranger he knew everything about. Anyone else would’ve given up and moved on, but Peter had a list to follow. A goal to work towards. Everything else was settled, now all he had to do was take the leap.
A small leap was still a leap.
The boy jogged across the street and pushed open the door, bell tinkling as he entered the shop he’d last visited months ago.
Time to begin again.