Chapter Text
Peter sat on the edge of a tall building with his mask off, staring down at the streets below. Watching the cars and people moving by like tiny ants.
The rain was heavy tonight. The gloomy atmosphere matching his mood. His body throbbed with cuts and bruises from fighting crime. There were tears in his suit.
After being erased from the memory of his universe, he had been left with no documentation. He was able to forge most of the documents he needed but he couldn’t have any references. This made finding a good job extremely challenging. This had led to him excepting any work he could get. Most of them were just as, if not more, shady than the apartment building he moved into.
He also didn’t make that much money. After all his expenses, bills and Spider-Man related costs, he had been left with little to spend on groceries. He made enough to supply himself with an average of slightly less than an average teens food intake.
This would probably be workable if he was a normal human but he wasn’t. He was enhanced, and so was his metabolism. He needed to eat over twice as much as he was eating right now to be able to function at his best. Slightly less than that to be eating enough that his body didn’t start to consume itself.
Safe to say that he wasn’t doing well. The constant injuries brought upon by his Spider-Man crime fighting only made his situation worse as his body needed to use even more energy to heal itself. As it was his healing factor had greatly decreased, along with some of his other abilities, to that of a fit but normal human.
It was killing him.
But it wasn’t just the physical toll on his body that was the problem, but also the mental toll. His grief and loneliness was eating him alive, and there was no one he could talk to it about.
He had tried to reconnect with MJ and Ned but MJ, being the amazingly (and quite inconveniently) perceptive person that she was, had noticed that Peter knew more than he was letting on. There was no way that he could continue without him being sent to a psychiatric hospital for delusions or prison for stalking.
He had broken their promise.
As Peter continued to stare down at the bustling streets of Queens, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, his spidey-sense humming dully in the base of his skull. He turned around to see a flash of bright, red light.
It was a portal.
And out stepped Wanda Maximoff. Peter relaxed slightly upon seeing who it was but his body was still tense, his senses humming dully about potential danger. She was wearing an outfit that Peter hadn’t seen her wearing in the brief amount of time that he knew her. It was a deep crimson with intricate detailing and to top it off she was wearing what appeared to be a crown of the same colouration.
“Hello Peter.” She said in a smooth voice, almost soothing. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”
Peter didn’t respond, his body fully tensing up again. His mind was reeling after what Wanda had just said. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”. How did she remember him? She shouldn’t be able to after Doctor Strange’s spell. Was this some kind of cruel joke that his sleep deprived, grief stricken mind was concocting?
“I am not a hallucination, Peter.” She said softly, taking a couple steps closer to him. “Strange’s spell didn’t affect me. I remember everything. I remember you.”
If Peter had been paying close attention to what she was saying he would have noticed the venom in her voice when she said Doctor Strange’s name before returning to her previous calming tone. Instead he was focused on the fact that she remembered him. Someone actually remembered him. He didn’t care that Wanda didn’t elaborate about how or why Doctor Strange’s spell didn’t affect her rather just happy that it didn’t.
For once in the past four months after the spell, after grieving the death of his Aunt May and the loss of his old life, he had someone who remembered him. Not Spider-Man. Peter Parker. He could almost cry tears of joy.
It took him a couple of seconds before he realised that he was crying tears of joy.
Wanda reached forward and took his face in her hands. Peter distantly noticed that the tips of her fingers were stained black. It made his spidey sense pick up more before it went silent, like a red mist calmly dispersing in the warmth of the sun. He hadn’t noticed just how cold he was until now.
“You carry so much grief.” She said quietly, wiping away the tears that were now pouring down his cheeks. “I know what that’s like.” She added sadly.
“But you have been so strong. Stronger than you had any right to be, stronger than you should have had to be.” She continued. “You deserve to be happy Peter, you deserve to be able to live without having to be so strong for everyone. I can make that happen.” She said. Her voice picked up a bit at the end.
“I can take you away from all your pain. You could have a family again. You could be happy again. Don’t you want that?” Her stare became more intense, her eyes subtly glowing red. Her grip on his face increased in pressure. It didn’t hurt at all but it was noticeable.
“I don’t- I don’t understand.” He managed to say. His mind was still racing, trying to process everything Wanda was saying, still partially in shock over the information that he hadn’t been entirely forgotten by at least one person. It didn’t help that his mind was growing slightly foggy. It was probably the lack of sleep. It definitely had nothing to do with the small wisps of red seeping into his brain.
“I’m getting my family back, Peter. My boys. I’m giving you a place in our family. You won’t be forgotten and alone anymore. You’ll be loved, happy.” Her tone became more frantic as she spoke, the crazed look in her eyes increasing.
Peter couldn’t look away from her eyes, now glowing brighter. “Why?” He breathed softly, worried that if he spoke to loud that something would shatter and he’d be left alone again.
“Because, you deserve to be loved and happy, Peter. I won’t leave you alone, your grief slowly eating away at you. Not like I was. I can save you from that hurt, or- at least I save you from more hurt. I can save you now. I can save all of us now. We’ll be happy. Like we deserve to be.” Wanda frantically answered. Her hands let go of his face and now held firmly onto his shoulders.
Peter shook his head sadly. He didn’t notice the look that passed over Wanda’s face at his refusal. “I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’m bad luck. I’ll just get you or them hurt, or worse! Killed! I can’t do that again. I can’t.” He was shaking now. He looked up at Wanda’s face just in time to see her face shift into a sad caring smile.
She pulled him into a tight hug, one hand wrapped around the back of his shoulders and one resting at the back of his head. “It’s okay, I won’t let that happen.” Peter opened his mouth to protest but he was cut off as Wanda continued talking. “I’m stronger now. My magic is far more powerful than you can believe. It’ll be alright. I’ll make sure of it.”
Peter found himself relaxing into Wanda’s grip and hugging her back. Despite the nagging voice in his head telling him to refuse Wanda’s too kind offer, he found himself nodding into her shoulder. The nagging voice along with his other anxieties were slowly becoming muffled.
“Amazing. That’s amazing Peter.” She said squeezing him before letting him go before resting her hands on his shoulders, smiling a kind, slightly crazy smile. “All I need is your help finding the rest of our family. Then we can all be happy.”