Chapter Text
Peter felt everything.
Before it even started, he knew he would experience something that was far worse than a regular death. But he didn’t care – not anymore. All he wanted was for everything to finally stop. For the pain to stop.
He didn’t want his story to go this way. And in the end, the only way to fix this was to take a factor out of the equation. Even if it meant that that factor was him.
But Peter Parker knew, there could be no more victims – no more people that would get hurt just because of his, Spiderman’s, decisions.
They say, when you die, your entire life flashes before your eyes – you go through it in a matter of seconds, even though it feels like an eternity. For Peter Parker, that life was short.
He was young, 17, his birthday was supposed to be next month. May and him, well mainly May, talked a lot about party plans. She insisted on something big, something just for him.
He was excited – thought, jokingly, about inviting all the heroes that were still sticking around, which would mainly consist of Dr. Strange and maybe Mr. Banner, potentially Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barnes, which would be funny considering how he only met them once. He didn’t really know any of the other members, at least none of whom were still alive.
He missed Mr. Stark. Maybe wherever he went, he would already be waiting for his arrival – scolding him for being there too early. Next to him, his aunt and uncle. Or his parents. He would appreciate anyone really. Maybe when he saw them again, this tingling would finally stop.
His Spider-Sense, the ‘Peter-Tingle’, helped him a lot, over the course of his journey as Spiderman, but ultimately, it’s the most gruesome part too. Unable to escape the inevitable, panic sets in.
It felt worse than The Snap or The Bip or whatever they call it – and that had already been terrifying enough. Feeling your own molecules separated and torn apart wasn’t exactly a nice experience. But this time around it felt like ‘It’ reached to his very core, probably the closest you could describe as a soul.
He faced his fate, and an odd sense of acceptance washed over him, as he turned to Dr. Steven Strange. He liked him, he’s sorry that it’s up to the wizard to clean up his mess now. Peter really hoped it wouldn’t be too much trouble.
This was the only way. Peter Parker couldn’t exist anymore. He did too much damage to this world. He needed to be forgotten, or apparently erased, as the universe decided.
Dr. Strange looked him in the eyes; Peter could see a flood of emotions washing over his face - regret and sadness, maybe anger. At the end, as Peter saw his fingertips vanish to dust – it didn’t get better the second time – he could only hear the words “I’m sorry, Peter! Please stay safe, I’ll try- “.
And suddenly…
Darkness.
Peter had never been afraid of the dark before, at least, till now.
If this was his death, then he really hoped, he was the only one going through such a hellish one.
It was cold. Wet. Stone under his cheek. Wait a minute… Why would death be wet?
Peter was surprised—he reached towards the ground, with his hands, that apparently were still there.
While he concentrated on the feeling of concrete underneath him, rain fell across his face.
Peter sucked in a breath. His lungs worked - it felt like he didn’t take a breath in years. His body ached. His Spider-Sense buzzed faintly in the background. Every so often raindrops fell on his face.
And it smelt like the rain he was used to, and felt like it, and sounded like it. This wasn’t death.
And if it weren’t for the honking cars in the background, it could have been considered quite peaceful even.
Okay, that couldn’t be right. Concentration. Gather all the information around you, Parker.
You have a body, and your senses, you feel cold, and are lying on something, maybe a street… It is raining, and there are cars.
The only thing that still bothered him was how dark it was.
You have to open your eyes, Peter, he thought. Anything, just to get out of this darkness.
It took far longer than he would like to admit - he felt physically weak - which he has not felt in quite some time. But finally, he managed to open them.
It was still dark, but not pitch black at the very least– probably nighttime…
The brunette took in his surroundings. It’s an alleyway, that’s for sure. He’s seen enough of those in his lifetime.
Peter Parker was certainly not in New York anymore. Nor in any other city that he recognized or even knew about. None of the streets had names that he heard before.
Lucky for him, it has already gotten dark. Which was good, as he was wearing what was left of his torn Spider-suit. No mask. Great. Exactly the kind of look to get him arrested or stared at.
He really wanted to spare himself the work to explain his questionable appearance, should he get confronted.
His web shooters were almost empty, so walking was his only choice right now.
Wandering through the streets, he was acutely aware of his situation – lost in a city with no form of identification or a place to stay… But he needed to cover his essentials, before anything else.
First, he needed a map, some normal civilian clothes and a place to gather his thoughts.
The clothes-issue was covered quickly, as apparently this city had just as many tourist spots as New York did – and lucky for him, some left their extra storage outside in boxes.
As Peter was desperate, he sneaked over, trying to avoid any locals passing by. He saw some people, but most of them were traveling by car, given the hour, so he was pretty sure that he should be alright. Besides, it was dark, and at least where he came from, most would simply mind their own business.
After rifling through the boxes like a racoon in leftover spandex, seeing ugly mugs and even worse magnets, he finally came across clothes.
They weren’t great; had someone asked, he would have used the word horrendously to describe the design before him, but it had to make do.
The T-shirts were a classic “I love Metropolis” Design, where the love was replaced with a heart. Which was fine. It was more so the pants that made him unhappy.
It was a regular pair of sweatpants; the fabric was rough and uncomfortable. And all over it, a pattern you could describe as a diamond-shaped symbol in red and yellow, containing a big ‘S’ right in the middle.
Thinking about it, he did see that specific symbol a couple times already, when he had been wandering aimlessly through the city.
He grabbed two of each, guessing his size, and left to another alleyway to change. Even though his old suit was very much torn up, he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it. He had too many memories attached to it, and it was pretty much the only thing he had left of his world.
“Perfect,” Peter muttered, looking down at himself. “World’s saddest fashion victim.”
Still, better than wandering half-naked and freezing in a strange city. He folded up his ruined suit - his last piece of home - and tucked it away carefully between the spare shirt and pants.
At least he had the issue regarding his clothes covered for now. Unfortunately, he didn’t find any maps of the city. All he could do was to keep his eyes open.
After a while, he noticed, much to his surprise, that there didn’t seem to be any homeless people around – well, except for him apparently. So there had to be a place for the less fortunate. It would be highly improbable to assume that they didn’t exist at all.
His train of thought suddenly got interrupted by a shrill scream – a woman, not far from where he stood. His muscle memory kicked in and he reached out with his web shooters. To his horror, it seemed they got damaged after all – no web fluid, no webs to get attached to.
So, Peter, knowing he had to at least do something, did the only thing he could: Run. He may have fucked up his old life, but he would never turn his back on people who need him.
After all, he was Spiderman.
He still felt the pain of his past battle. Pain, putting pressure on his bones. His legs screamed for salvation, but he couldn’t let that stop him. The screams of the innocent woman were louder than his.
It felt like an eternity until he finally saw the victim, lying on the ground, her hands trying to protect her face, while a man, covered in black stood above her.
Peter didn’t wait to think – he knew what was right, and that was all that counted. Besides, the brunette knew that he was stronger than the average man.
Rage filled him. Wherever he went, he could never escape his fate. Everywhere, there was always another person taking advantage of the innocent, the weak! Just this once, he really, really wanted to hurt someone. Couldn’t he have just one goddamn break!?
“Get the hell away from her!” He didn’t even hesitate, screaming at the fully cloaked figure. The man startled and turned around. Surprise painted his face, seeing the teen in front of him. Then he smiled.
“What? You little guy,” the almost 6.5 tall guy looked down on him “think you can do anything to stop me? You look like I can push you over with the back of my hand.”
The man laughed, and even though Peter stood around 4 feet away from him, he could still smell the alcohol in his breath. The woman, still behind that monster of a thug, finally got up and ran away, towards safety. The teen was relieved – free from the pressure of potentially hurting a bystander - and got ready to fight.
The drunk walked over to him, raising his fists, blocking out the streetlight behind him. Peter braced for the punch, ready to catch it—
—but it never came.
Hands like steel lifted him, weightless, then set him down again at the alley’s edge. Peter whipped around—
—and froze.
There was a man hovering above the ground, and he wore blue spandex, red cape, and yes—red underwear on top. Broad chest. Symbol blazing like neon across it: the same S plastered all over Peter’s new sweatpants.
“Okay,” Peter muttered, “guess I’m the sidekick in pajamas.”
Peter really should be more surprised about seeing a person flying without any tech, but his life was already wild enough that nothing can really catch him off guard right now.
The man seemingly didn’t notice his mumbling. Mr Underpants was muscular and looked like the definition of the word heroic. And he was looking straight at the thug that tried to attack Peter.
“I think you should stop now. Leave those citizens alone.” Even though he spoke calmly, and without raising his voice, the words that left him were booming through the alley.
“Superman! What are you doing here?! Aren’t you supposed to scare away some aliens in space right now??” he seemed genuinely surprised at the hero’s – Peter at least assumed that role – appearance.
“I got back early,” ‘Superman’ said, smiling like a sunrise. “And just in time to stop you from hurting those who are innocent!” He changed his pose, not quite a fighting stance, but more akin to ‘giving him his just punishment’.
“You got to be kidding me.” And with those words the guy got grabbed by Superman, as if he weighed nothing. In a blink, they were gone - the thug delivered somewhere far above the skyline.
Peter blinked. “Huh. So that’s a thing.”
Before he could slink away, the caped giant landed beside him.
“You alright, kid?” The voice was gentle now, warm.
Peter flinched. His Spider-Sense… didn’t react. At all. Weird. “Uh, yeah. Totally. Just a scratch.”
“Don’t worry about that crook. I left him at a police station; they will handle it from there.” Superman frowned as Peter continued looking at him. “Did he do that to you?”
The teen was confused; do what to him? He looked down at his hands – they were still covered in cuts and his own blood. Oh right, big fight today. In his own universe, he thinks, bitterly. He’s still not quite sure if this was some sort of afterlife, but what god would leave him battered and bruised if he was already dead.
“Kid?” Oh right, answer the question. “Oh uh, no. I just was a bit clumsy.” He stammered, unsure of his answer, his words came out more like a question. Damn it Peter, you’re an awful liar, and you know it. And Superman seemed to know as well, but he didn’t go further into it, which Peter was admittedly thankful for.
He looked down at the clothes he wore, and the spares, fallen on the floor in all this chaos.
“You got a place to stay?” The Hero, Peter was sure now, asked with worry.
Peter hesitated. “I’ll figure something out. No need to worry.
”
“At the central station you can go to a shelter.” Superman offered. “They’ll give you something to eat and you’ll have a bed for the night.”
Peter didn’t even really know how to react or where that central station was. Man, he was just so over with everything. He really should sleep; at least, like 30 hours if it was up to him. When he finally processed Superman's words, his stomach began to growl.
Of course he was hungry; how could he not have been. He hadn’t eaten in forever and with the traces of battle still left on him and his fastened metabolism, he could probably eat an entire skyscraper.
The noises of his apparent starvation were evidently caught by the hero before him, as he looked even more concerned than before, as Peter saw his frown deepen. “I can also bring you there, if you don’t mind it.” The man reached out one of his hands.
And Peter wanted to decline his offer– he really wanted to. But he chastised himself. Not the time to play tough. He couldn’t. It’s been hours since he’s been transported into this city – or at least it felt like it – and he really wanted to sleep.
He stared at Superman’s hand, as he was weighing his options. And while he did that, he didn’t notice how the man with the red cape slowly stepped closer.
“Are you hurting, kid?” Peter looked up, too tired to be surprised. He met the hero’s gaze and sighed. “I think so…”, he no longer had the energy to try to lie or fight, the battle and the running had finally caught up to him “but I’m gonna be fine.” He had to be.
Pushing away the hand of the man, dressed in blue – it was far easier than he had expected, especially for someone with that sheer amount of muscle – he stepped away, gathering all his belongings. He made sure his super suit was well hidden. “Thanks for the help, I don’t want to bother you any longer”, he couldn’t risk endangering someone again. “Can you just point me in the direction of the central station? I’ll find it.”
“Are you sure? It would be much faster if you let me help” Peter could hear how desperately Superman wanted to do just that.
“I am. No need to worry.”, The brunette gave him a smile – as honest as he could manage – to reassure him at least a little bit.
Superman hesitated for a second before pointing to the left. “Alright, it’s that way. Just go ahead until you see a big skyscraper in red; it’s to its left.”, He pointed to the direction where Peter had come from. “And if you get lost, you can just call my name, I’ll be there to help you in seconds.”
“Thank you, but I’m gonna be fine. Just had a bad day”, more like a bad month.
Peter couldn’t just stand there any longer, he needed to leave, before he changed his mind for real.
So, he headed toward the station, just the way Superman had told him to.
It didn’t take him long until he saw the red skyscraper. Finally, he let out a breath. Let’s just hope nobody wants to see any papers.