Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The silence in Peter's apartment was all the confirmation he needed to swallow the fact that May was dead. Ned doesn't remember him, nor does MJ. He didn't even tell her what happened once she got her memory wiped like he promised he would.

It took him awhile to get used to the cold atmosphere of his apartment. To get used to not expecting May's voice humming a sweet tune while making breakfast. To get used to the chattering voices of Ned and MJ beside him in the pastry shop while realizing he wasn't gonna be part of their conversation anymore. Not part of their world. 

He's just gonna be that weird customer brooding in the corner while stuttering to say what he wanted to order. 

No matter how many blankets or hoodies he puts on himself, it won't fill the cold empty air he surrounded himself with. Not the constant humming he hears while sitting in front May's grave. Hell- even swinging around New York doesn't make him feel better! 

Spider-man has barely even patrolled around in months. Peter has been letting the grief eat him that he feels a nauseous lump coming up his throat every time he looks at his suit. 

It felt pathetic. 

It was pathetic. 

Uncle Ben would be shaking his head in disappointment if he was still alive. May would probably say that he did his best. 

That it wasn't his fault he let his naivety control him to trust Mysterio even when his Spidey senses told him not to. 

He should've listened

Climbing through the window, Peter almost immediately ripped off his mask, tripping and stumbling all the way through the bathroom. 

While he was busy brooding on the roof of a building, he caught sight on a group of thugs (about four or five of them) ganging up on this couple. 

Tonight wasn't his best night so his moves were sloppier than usual, but he managed to let the couple to run away while getting out of the fight with only a stab wound. 

Usually, a stab wound wouldn't be much of a problem for him, but as Parker luck would have it, he wasn't feeling his best this night. 

He had a terrible headache and his body felt like he had just been thrown in a pit of boiling water. 

Peter gripped the edges of the sink as he holds his head under the running tap. He stayed there for a few more minutes before lifting his head up, gasping as he looks at his reflection in the mirror. 

His hair was sticking against his forehead with all the sweat soaking him, dark circles taking form under his eyes, not to mention his flushed face. 

God.. If May were to see him right now she would immediately put him to bed. Unfortunately for him, Aunt May wasn't here so he was left to his own devices, which wasn't really a good idea for a 17 year old with spider powers that was running around in red and blue spandex playing hero. 

Peter stripped off his suit and stepped in the shower, feeling the cold water droplets hit his boiling skin. He almost forgot the gaping wound on his side when he was hit with another burning sensation of the water brushing past the gash. 

Peter bit back a wince as he washed himself, carefully wrapping bandages around his torso after stepping out of the shower. 

He dried himself after putting on a shirt with a simple hoodie on top as well as sweat pants and socks before body slamming the bed like it personally owed him money. 

Peter let out a sigh as he hugged his pillow, burying his face in it as he felt unwanted tears building up. 

This had been this nightly routine ever since the whole world forgot his existence. 

Ever since he felt the need to give up his responsibility. His suit. His powers.. 

To give up Spider-man. 

How unfair it was that the stupid spider chose some nerd with asthma to be b̶l̶e̶s̶s̶e̶d̶ 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘥 with spider powers... 

And just like every other night, Peter cried himself to sleep, complaining about unfair it was. 

Like it always was. 

Peter let out a piercing scream while he clawed the sheets of the bed, the burning pain from before came back in a stronger force as it felt as if he was being buried alive in a bowl of acid.

It was as if two people were playing tug of war with Peter as the rope because he felt his muscles steching in opposite ways in ways he didn't even know were medically possible.

He was soaked in sweat while he kicked off the blankets that covered him, tossing and turning while crying in agony. His voice raising especially high when he felt his muscles tugging apart from his throat all the way to his forehead harshly. The sensation only worsened when it reached from his chest to his abdomen. 

God he felt like throwing up... 

DON'T LET GO

Peter thrashed around, hissing and subconsciously grabbing himself as if to stop the pulling sensation he felt like he was being ripped in half. 

DON'T LET ME GO

'Spidey senses are going bonkers!'

NO FRIEND, ENEMY! ENEMY! 

Peter could only shriek louder. 

DON'T TAKE MY SPIDERLING

𝙸𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚘. 

WATCH OUT!! 

𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

DON'T TAKE HI--

Peter woke up gasping, the boiling pain he felt before was no where to be found, sitting up so fast it almost gave him whiplash as he quickly looked around the area. 

'What the fuck?'

He wasn't in his room anymore, he was in a dark alley laying in a puddle. Ew.. 

Peter stood up before his knees immediately buckled beneath him and he had to catch himself from face planting the wet concrete floor. 

"Well, isn't this great?" He muttered while crawling closer to the wall of the alley, opting to slowly and carefully stand up with support. 

He didn't remember sleepwalking out his apartment and into an alley, not to mention in his socks, though you mostly don't remember doing anything when you sleep do you? 

Peter sighed as he surveilled his surroundings, it didn't look familiar to him so it told him it wasn't in his usual patrolling area. 

'.. Ok, I'm starting to think someone snatched me out my window and dropped my off here... '

Peter found his balance before walking out the alley, grimacing when he acknowledged his wet socks. The buildings were in no way familiar to him, in fact, they were in no way even related to New York at all! 

The buildings were Gothic and way too edgy. 'I wouldn't be surprised if some emo pubescent teenager was the one who designed these buildings...'

Peter was getting goosebumps, the sky told him it was still the dead of night, which is definitely not good if you're in Peter's situation and was dumped in an unknown alley in your sleep. 

Although, it wasn't the dried blood on the sidewalk or the stray knife behind the dumpster that made Peter feel disturbed, it was that the usual humming behind his mind stopped. 

It was completely quiet, which was unusual when he could tell that the section he was in was definitely dangerous. 

So why aren't his Spidey senses going off? 

Not even humming.. 

Peter had a theory, and he was terrified if it proved to be correct. 

It stood high on the roof, each of it's hair standing up from the mere scent of this unfamiliar city. 

This wasn't Spiderling's world. No. It wasn't the same at all. 

It's pedipalps hands came up to the face it was oh so familiar to. Carefully gliding it's finger's against Spiderling's cheeks to his chin before strongly inhaling the cold air of the city. 

"Spiderling's awake."  It whispered into the air before jumping off. 

"Find him. Follow scent..." It muttered. Flashing a relieved smile. 

Peter plants his palm against a wall, his breath slightly quivering as he puts his other hand above the other and pulling. 

'No...'

Peter tried again and got the same result. He did it again and still nothing. His feet were still on the ground. He wasn't crawling up the wall like he always did. 

He looked away from the wall and turned towards another property, attempting to try and hear some sort of distant sound a normal person can't hear. But once again, nothing. 

'Nononono...'

Peter felt tears prickling his eyes, before turning and running back to the alley he woke up in. He plants his hands under the dumpster and tried to lift it up 

Usually, this wouldn't be a problem, but now.. 

He slumped back, sitting on the floor from exhaustion, staring at the dumpster in a daze. 

He swallowed it all in, his slow breaths turning into pants as he backed away from the dumpster, his back hitting the opposite wall of the alley as he looked down at his hands. 

Why aren't my powers working?  His hands weren't usually this clean

Did something happen while I was asleep?  Why were his hands smaller? 

I know I said I wanted to give up being spider-man but...  His hands had calluses 

What would happen to New York?  He can't breathe

Would another hero step up?  WHY CAN'T HE BREATHE

Would the other hero do a better job? I CAN'T BREATHE

But what about Spider-man? 

"-ey kid!"

I CAN'T BREATHE

"KID!"

Peter felt an object in his mouth and immediately breathed in, shoving the inhaler away and clutched his chest, coughing once he snapped out of his thoughts. 

After collecting himself, he tilted his head up to greet his savior, only to be met with a red helmet... 

Was he hallucinating now? 

"Thank God.. Hey kid, are you good?" Mr. Red helmet asked, "you had an asthma attack there, did you not bring your inhaler?"

Peter blinked up at the stranger, realizing he took to long to respond. "Oh- uh- I left it at home.."

He didn't see his face, but Peter could practically see the man's eyebrow rise. 

"Yeah? And you left home in your socks in the dead of night?"

"I was sleepwalking.." Peter wanted to slap himself. 

"... You sleepwalking out your house, kid?"

"Yup." Fake it till it's true. 

Peter heard the soft sigh of the man, watching his hand go up to his face to presumably pinch his nose, but because of his helmet blocking it, he just ran it across the top of his head instead. 

"Alright, well, do you know where your house is?" The guy asks, standing up from his crouching position, and holy crap why is he so tall. 

'I wasn't this short before right?'

Peter also stood up, yet the height difference didn't seem to change much. 

It seemed that he was too late to respond because the man was speaking to him again. 

"I'm gonna take that as a no," he sighed, "do you know your addr--"

"How old are you?"

"What?"

... Peter REALLY wanted to slap himself... 

"I- I mean, well since you're so tall, and I just wanted- I uhh--"

"Kid, calm down, geez you're really out of it huh?" ok, RUDE, "and my age isn't any of your business, I'm tall because you like- what? 13?"

"I'm 17..." Peter muttered. 

The man only scoffed, "yeah ok." It was clear he didn't believe him.

"Look, let's just get you home alright? You obviously aren't from this city and--"

"Wait- city..?"

"Yeah, Gotham, your in Crime Alley, which isn't a pretty place to be at night."

Ok, Peter is about to crash out. 

"If you don't know where--"

Peter quickly took the inhaler he shoved away from the ground and started sprinting, it wasn't as fast as he could usually go, but at least he managed to get Mr. Red helmet off guard. 

He could hear the footsteps behind him slowly catching up, 'dammit! I forgot what it was like being normal again..'

Peter took a turn into a narrow alley, running into a gap between the walls and hid behind the boxes. 

He could heard the stranger's footsteps and heavy breathing past him, muttering what seemed to sound like curses before fading away. 

Peter let out a a breathe he didn't know he was holding. 

'ok.. Overall TERRIBLE start to waking up...'

Chapter Text

Peter sat behind the soggy (now that he notices) boxes for who knows how long, listening to the cool breeze running past him.

It probably took him awhile to collect himself because before Peter could shield himself, a blast of light racked his eyes. 

Peter shoved his hand up his face to cover it from the sudden torment, groaning in frustration since he didn't get enough time pull himself together before the sun rose up. 

"Great.. Just great.." He mutters, sighing as he stood up, blinking against the unwelcomed sunlight. He sighed harder when he felt the wet concrete floor soak through his thin socks. 

Out of all 24 hours in a day, I just had to end up in a puddle, in the alley, in a city I don't even know WHILE I WAS ASLEEP. 

Peter luck be damned. 

Walking out of the alley (whilst experiencing the excruciating sensation of wet socks) Peter examined the newfound city called 'Gotham' as the red helmet guy said. 

'Eugh,' Peter gagged, 'Gotham? They couldn't name it anything better?'

Why name it by the only visible factor it has, Gothic, Gotham, really? 

Okay, I know I shouldn't be talking as SPIDER - MAN, but like, this is a city! Not a vigilante! At least name it something better! 

Before Peter could continue any further, he caught a glimpse of his reflection on the window of a cafe.

He froze.

Peter turned around slowly to face with glass, and would he say damn.. 

Is that me? 

He raises his hand to touch his cheek. The cheek that turned sunken over time from the lack of food Peter neglected, was now filled with familiar fat from when he was still a kid. 

His hoodie from last night hung more loosely over his frame.

Back when he was freshly bit, he grew a few inches over night, and grew more as time passed. 

Now looking at himself from a window of a run down cafe, nostalgia hit Peter in the guts like a running train. 

He raised his other hand to his face and both cupped his face. 

His clothes looked as if they were just thrown on to him. He was about a foot shorter and oh how Peter forgot how short he was before the bite. 

He forgot how awkward he was before he became spider-man and how nerdy he was back then. 

He forgot how human he was. And God did he miss it... 

"Ned, I bought a new star wars Lego set!"

This wasn't the strong and confident Peter "Spider-man" Parker. 

"Wanna check it out?"

This was the asthmatic and anxious Peter Benjamin Parker. 

"May, have you seen my glasses?"

The Peter Parker who excitedly rambles on about Star Wars and biochemistry, not the Peter Parker who fights thugs and villains on random rooftops or alleyways. 

"How can you code this fast, Ned!?"

The Peter Parker who grieved his uncle and tried to live up to his expectations, not the one who tried to surpass it. 

"With great power, comes great responsibility."

Peter let's his hands fall back to his sides, subconsciously gripping on the inhaler that he stole from that red helmet guy through his pants pocket. His eyebrows furrowed as he set his eyes downcast, not being able to bare the face of the person he used to be. 

coward.

Aunt May wouldn't think he was cowardly. really? 

Aunt May thought about a lot of things, but Peter wasn't cowardly. then look at your face. 

She probably felt nervous whenever he would go out to patrol. she felt scared when she saw your face on the news. 

Aunt May barely believes in the news. she probably thought you murdered him. 

She would never think that. Mysterio was right

No he wasn't. Yes he is

He isn't. YES HE IS--

"I Larb You!"

Peter took a breath through his inhaler, hands shaky as his weak grip on it shoves it back in his pocket. 

He only manages a weak glance back towards the window when he sees a newspaper laid across on the pavement. 

THE GOTHAM GAZETTE

Peter scoffs as he continues his stroll around his new surroundings, stepping on the newspaper in the process. 

"Stupid city name..."

I Larb you too. 

Hunger.

It was the first thing that came to mind when it came to this universe. 

The twisting and turning it's stomach had was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. It was sure the Spiderling had eaten enough for his metabolism. But then again, the previous burning and pulling sensation last night made it obvious the Spiderling was separated from it. 

Which is why we have come to our current dilemma:

A rat. 

It was fairly long, the tail hanging down from it's perched on a balcony of an abandoned building. It was nibbling on a rotten piece of bread that someone took a bite out off and threw away. 

It's grey fur was thickly covered around it, with some parts missing some of the coverage. It's tiny dark eyes barely registered the predator person looking at it. 

And despite the unsightly scene, it couldn't help but lick it's lips. It's mouth was salivating unconsciously and it's teeth started to tingle. 

It wanted to suppress the urge of making a trap web. 

Because Spiderling wouldn't want to. 

He wouldn't want to eat a disgusting rat. 

But Spidey sure does. 

And the more it stares at the rat, the more Spidey's shame turn into hunger. 

It's teeth are itchy. Yearning for flesh to penetrate through to satisfy the growing need in it's abdomen. To grab and to bite. 

"Spiderling isn't here," it whispers to itself, before crouching down to prepare pouncing at the newfound prey. 

Surely Peter won't mind? 

Peter's beginning to lose his mind. 

He wasn't paying attention to where he was walking or how long he was walking for because he was spacing out. Peter only notices when he bumps into head first on a street light. 

He quickly looks around to see very few people on the sidewalk. 

'Suspicious person in the alley, suspicious person leaning on the wall, suspicious group of people gathering around a weird circle thing that suspiciously looks like a summoning circle... Lovely..'

Peter mentally notes each individual around him, sighing in relief when no one seems to register the weird guy in socks knocking into a street light. 

He continues to walk, though a bit faster this time, while he tries to gather himself. 

He notices that the sky had clouded up, leaving a dull grey sheltering the city. Peter really hopes it doesn't rain.. 

He also notices his deteriorating eyesight. 

His surroundings are beginning to look more and more blurry by the second and it's freaking Peter out. 

He tries to blink continuously but it doesn't help, which only reminds him of his nearsightedness when he was kid. 

'Really!?' He internally groans, 'not only is my asthma back but my poor eyesight is also gonna be a problem!?'

Peter could only sigh, exasperated. His pace quickens as he tries to find a place to find shelter at before his eyesight goes back to the way it was 3 years ago. 

_________

After a few minutes of searching, Peter manages to lay eyes on a building that he really hopes in a public library. 

"Gotham.. Something.. Library!" He whispers as he tries to read what was imprinted on top of the building. 

The library looked quite old but Peter thinks it fits with the whole 'aesthetics' Gotham has going on. 

He walks up the stairs, mindful on not slipping as he opens the door. 

From the looks of it, it was big and spacious on the inside as much as it was on the outside. 

Peter was too busy looking around the blurry library, that he didn't notice the curious eyes the librarian was giving him. He wouldn't have seen her anyways.