Chapter Text
Part One:
DEATH
It’s freezing outside and Peter is shivering all the way down to his bones, with no hands to hold or jokes to cheer him up. His suit seems to weigh a ton as he swings from building to building with one goal in mind: to head back to his empty apartment. He passes by the donut shop MJ used to work at, where the two of them would hang out with Ned. He catches sight of the two through the window before tearing himself away from the building.
He finally gets to his apartment. He enters, locks the window behind him, and then carefully slides a hoodie and sweatpants over his suit.
He quickly cooks himself a Ramen packet, breaking out his shitty chopsticks because he still needs to wash his good ones.
He looks out the window, eyeing the powdery white snow falling from the sky. It seems like it is going to be a white Christmas this year. Peter prays that everyone is snowed in, and that he doesn't have to go to work tomorrow.
He is, once again, an intern. Except he was paid this time, and not through vigilantism. The pay is poor, and J. Jonah Jameson is always trying to find a reason to fire him. No more Mr. Stark. Just him and his average photography skills with an even shittier job.
He’s jerked out of his thoughts by the timer going off. He pours the flavor packet in and swirls the noodles around in the pot a bit before pouring it all into his bowl. He takes the bowl, places it on his tiny one-person dining table, and digs into his food.
It's not enough, he realizes. He is still hungry, his metabolism burning through the food before it can even settle in his stomach. It only made him hungrier, and he knows he hasn't had a good meal in months and it shows. He is gaunt and unhealthy-looking, but no one is around to call him out for it anyway.
He takes his empty bowl to the sink, rinsing and washing his bowl and chopsticks. He also takes the time to wash his good ones. He places it in the drying rack before taking his face in his hands and groaning. “I can't take this shit anymore.”
He grabs his phone, mask, and keys, rushing out the door. He makes his way to the Sanctum, praying that Dr. Strange will be there.
He arrives at the Sanctum, a center for sorcerers masquerading as a bookstore in the middle of New York. The eye-shaped windows seem to look ominously down upon the young man as he slides his mask on. Hesitant, the man opens the intimidatingly large doors and spots Dr. Strange.
“Dr. Strange.” He greets, tipping his head.
“Spider-Man. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Dr. Strange responds, turning around to face Peter.
“I'm so tired, Dr. Strange. I'm so alone, and I'm terrified even to use my name or be myself, in fear of breaking the universe again. I can't take it anymore.” He croaks out, hunching in on himself.
The man sighs, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. “I have a solution, but… you may not like it, Spider-Man.”
“Dr. Strange, if I didn't have a healing factor, I would've killed myself by now.” The man– now sounding much like a boy– confesses.
“I'm proud of you for coming to me, Spider-Man. I understand your desperation. The solution is complicated, but can be summed up like this: I can send you to a universe where you never existed. One where you can use your civilian identity safely, forge relationships, and such. But this world may look completely different from ours. Do you want this?”
“Yes, I do. Just send me somewhere that needs Spider-Man, please.”
“I will try. And… I must warn you that energy cannot be created or destroyed. The solution to this issue will be that you will wake up in a recently deceased body. However, this body will take the shape and abilities of your current body. Though, I must warn that there is a chance that your mutations may… change.”
“Dr. Strange, I can handle it. I swear.” The boy– no, man– begs.
“Okay. I will begin. Do not interrupt.” He says, beginning to mutter out the spell.
Light floods the room as Dr. Strange continues to mutter the spell. Peter's body begins to start feeling… odd. “Dr. Strange… I don't… feel so good.” Spider-Man slurs.
“That is caused by the spell. It is almost over.” The man continues to mutter the spell and starts to move his hands around, mostly in Spider-Man's direction.
Peter's blinking grows slower as he collapses to the floor. He fights to stay awake, but it feels like he is being pulled further under with each passing second. Peter Benjamin Parker of Earth 971021 shuts his eyes for the last time.
~~~
Peter is choking. That is the first thing he realizes as he is regaining consciousness. He tries to cough, to blink awake, but all he sees is green and all he feels is… green. It’s everywhere. It sits in the stomach, his throat, even in his veins. He is nothing but green. He attempts to claw through it, scrabbling for a way out of the sea of sludge. He eventually finds a ledge and pulls himself up. He claws at his throat blindly, hacking up a glob of green after hitting himself at the top of his stomach. He looks down at himself, running his fingers through his hair. It feels almost like it has recently applied hair gel, and realizing the green is all over him.
He shivers, taking in the icy cold room. It seems to be some kind of abandoned lab, with blood staining the ground and scratches marking its walls. Peter soon finds himself to be clawing at the walls, green smothering his vision. He eventually finds a door and attempts to open it, he punches it in frustration once he realizes it is locked. The door slams open, the strength of his punch making the door break from its hinges and hit the opposite wall. The boy climbs the walls and onto the ceiling as he searches for a way out, prepared to attack any oncoming enemies.
He makes his way down the hallway, finding nothing but bloody footsteps and abandoned rooms. He eventually finds a locker room of some sort, and after investigating around a bit, he eventually comes across some showers. He hesitantly turns the knob and watches as water pours from the spigot. He tests the water with his hands, feeling its mediocre temperature, he begins to pull his clothes and suit off. He showers without any soap, but it's better than no shower at all.
Peter turns off the spigot and hesitantly puts his suit and clothes back on. He searches the room for any other useful items but discovers none. He pauses as he catches sight of himself in the mirror. His hair has a strange white streak and his eyes seem more hazel than brown, with a green ring around his iris. As he is about to exit, he realizes that the green in his vision has receded almost entirely. However, can still feel the pulsating anger at the outskirts of his mind, begging for a reason to darken his vision again.
He trudges through the ruins of a laboratory, following his Spider-Sense as it leads him to the exit. He notes the location of the building mentally, as he stares out at what looks to be an unkempt region of a city. He takes in the harrowing number of homeless people as he continues to his destination. He blindly follows his Sense as it leads him down alleyways and through streets. Slowly the buildings grow to look cleaner, as do the people.
Peter nearly runs into a man with a white streak in his hair, looking very similar to Peter's. He clumsily slips around him and apologizes as he spots a sign with the words “Gotham City Library.” “Good job.” He mumbles to his Spider-Sense.
He enters the building. He is hit with a wave of warmth– a relief from the frigid winter air. Sitting at the front desk, there is a woman with red hair, who is on the phone with someone. Peter makes his way to the public computers and begins… internet exploring?
What the fuck.
Internet Explorer as the biggest search engine must explain why the tech in this universe is absolute dogshit.
“Avengers”
“Tony Stark”
“Peter Parker”
None of these yield any results.
“Superhero”, however, does.
Millions of results pop up, although mutants seem to be called metas here.
There is the Super family (Superman, Superboy, Supergirl… another Superboy? This shit is weird).
Then, there are multiple heroes called Flash, two to be exact. (Ironic, and hopefully nothing like Peter's Flash.)
Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter,
And a guy called Batman with no powers is in the Justice League too.
Apparently, Gotham (Batman) has a “no meta” rule, and Peter is definitely a meta.
The Bats are a large group, mostly made up of the four or so Robins and a few Batgirls. Later they even gained a daytime hero (the first boy to never be a Robin, most likely due to his metahuman status).
As Peter continues his research, he realizes that all the pictures of the Bats are horrible. All of them are taken by the Gotham Gazette, the local paper. Peter knows what he needs to do. He quickly pulls up an online map and looks up the location of the Gotham Gazette Headquarters. He memorizes it before scrolling through the Gazette’s online articles curiously. He clicks anxiously on to an article titled “Truancy Law: Gotham’s Kids Educated”, groaning as he registers that he is legally required to repeat his senior year… again! All because he is a minor, and has nothing to prove he graduated young.
He starts his research into local schools with a good lab. He quickly discovers the existence of Gotham Academy, the Wayne scholarship, and who Bruce Wayne is.
Rich? Check.
Playboy? Check.
Philanthropist? Check.
Sounds like an off-brand, dumber version of Tony. He's not quite as rich, but he probably won't notice if a thousand or so dollars disappear from his bank account. Peter takes a quick glance around, making sure no one is watching.
He makes himself an identity, with everything from birth certificates to the death certificates of his parents. He also makes himself a bank account. (With a little help from he and Ned’s… side hobbies.)
It seems that what he and Ned did together, when not building lego sets, came in handy! (Peter would be lying if he was saying he and Ned didn't hack the government here and there.)
~~~
“Hey, B, someone just took a thousand dollars out of your bank account.”
“That's fine. Investigate, but don't focus too hard on it. There are bigger issues.”
“Such as the concerning energy surge in Crime Alley.”
“Hm.”
~~~
Using some of this money, he signs up for the scholarship exam. He sneakily signs off of the computer after clearing his history and heads toward the exit.
“Hi there, are you new around here?”
Peter nearly jumps. It's the red-headed woman from the front desk. Now that she's at a different angle, he can see that she's a wheelchair user.
“Yes, I just recently moved to Gotham,” he responds, about to leave.
“I'm Barbara Gordon, but everyone calls me Babs.”
Peter turns all the way around, turns his Enthusiastic Happy Smile up to 100, and begins walking toward her. “I'm Peter, but everyone calls me Peter.”
Barbara looks at the boy with a raised eyebrow, before pulling out a thick packet and placing it on her desk. “This packet has everything you need to know about Gotham in it. It has info on the rogues, what the different emergency sirens mean, which shelters are safe, etc. Do you have somewhere safe to stay, Peter?”
Peter takes the packet and grits his teeth. His eyes narrow further with each word in her final question. “Yeah, I'm plenty safe, Ms. Barbara.”
“Oh, call me Babs, Peter.”
“I was taught to have manners, Ms. Barbara, and I just met you. I need to go soon, I'm being picked up.”
“I'll have you calling me Babs soon. Do you want a mint before you go?”
The green he hadn't realized was growing, flares in front of his vision. He clenches his fists. “No thank you, Ms. Barbara. I'm allergic.”
He stomps out of the building, dying to punch something. His head hurts with the effort to control himself. He starts the long walk to the Gotham Gazette, only to get pulled into an alley by a calloused hand.