Chapter Text
The water turned pink underneath his hands and he stared at them numbly, picturing the mangled body. Flashes of light had left dark spots in his vision by the time he left the crime scene. Peter blinked repeatedly, willing the crimson river to go away.
He could already see the Daily Bugle’s headlines: Spider-Menace just aided in the murder of an innocent civilian! Hero? More like zero! Sign this petition to put him behind bars.
Recently, the coverage had been getting heavily negative and Peter’s endless patience was getting tested. Ironic that his one source of income required slandering his own alter ego. Worse than that, however, was the fact that Jameson probably wouldn’t be wrong about his theories this time.
What was the point of a heavily armored spider-suit and super strength if he was standing by while someone took their life?
Despite the scenes replaying in his head, he managed to settle into his bed. He shuddered at the frigid air surrounding him. Winter in New York was not taken lightly by anyone, let alone a 17 year old boy living off his meager wages.
The radiators in Peter’s warehouse were always turned off, lest the owner showed up and threw the boy out. He closed his eyes, ignoring the scuttling sounds of Remy. Yes, he named the mouse. Loneliness is a silent killer, after all. Besides, the mouse and Peter had more in common now than he ever expected; orphans, hiding in an abandoned warehouse and hunting for food constantly.
As he fell into a dream-like state, he wondered whether May would have hated the Spider-Man of today just as much as he hated the Avengers. The irony would have made him laugh if it weren’t so devastating.
—
Four person-sized holes were present in his heart, but it was May’s death that hit him the hardest.
Ultimately, it was what convinced him that the saying ‘never meet your heroes’ had some truth to it.
It had been a sunny day, and Peter was looking forward to getting home and surprising May at the hospital with some take-out before doing his nightly patrol. She had 12 hour shifts the entire month and spent her breaks in the psychiatric ward.
Maybe if he had chosen to patrol earlier, he would’ve caught the signs of incoming catastrophe.
As he stood inside Delmar’s deli, waiting for his order of sandwiches, he caught a glimpse of the news channel playing on the screen above his head.
‘This is a warning to all citizens to avoid Forest Hills. An unidentified threat has attacked the area. The Avengers have already arrived at the scene and are trying to round up the creatures-’
Forest Hills.
Peter’s breath hitched, panic filling his lungs as he imagined Aunt May trapped in a wild stampede of people. His hands started to tremble and he grabbed his backpack to rush out of the deli, ignoring Delmar’s shouts for him to take his order.
He was already suited up underneath his sweatpants and ripped them off in a nearby alley before swinging across buildings with a ferocious velocity. He landed on a street next to the hospital, and whipped his head back and forth to search for Aunt May. In hindsight, Peter should have taken in his surroundings.
The entire street was in chaos. Civilians were running haphazardly away from the ongoing battle between the vicious beasts and the Avengers. A woman tripped over a cracked curb and vanished underneath the crowd. A cacophony of sounds filled Peter’s ears - police car sirens, the scrambling feet of desperate innocents, the howling of whatever creatures the Avengers were up against. One voice cut through the ringing in his ears.
A child. Crying.
Peter’s head snapped towards the sound.
Through the debris and smoke, a small girl stood frozen on the street. Her eyes were shut tightly and her ears were clamped over her ears.
Behind her, a beast stood on the hood of a crumpled van. Peter’s eyes widened as he took in the animal with four arms, its yellow eyes burning with hunger. For a fraction of a second, he felt as helpless as the girl as he observed the long razor-like claws of the creature.
Then, his eyes narrowed into slits as he sprung into action, swinging towards the girl. He yanked hard, launching his body over the wreckage. Mid-air, Peter flipped and slammed his feet into the beast’s side. He landed neatly on his spandex-covered feet and ran toward the girl, scooping her up with one arm. Peter could hear the deafening pitter patter of her heart beat as he gently handed her off to the armed first responders.
The beast was already lunging towards more running civilians, but Peter was faster. He vaulted over a flaming SUV and web-yanked the car door, flinging it towards the beast like an axe, crushing the beast’s head with a metallic crunch.
Blue liquid oozed out of its mutilated head. It didn’t move again.
“Nice save, kid!”
Peter winced at the sudden sound in his ears, whipping his head up to the sky. Iron Man was hovering through the smoke, repulsors glowing.
Huh. He must have been really out of it if he hadn’t even heard the familiar sound of Tony’s repulsors.
He grinned under the mask, responding, “Hey, Mr Stark. What’s the deal with Four Legs over here?”
Tony groaned, “Kid, I told you to stop calling me that.”
Peter’s comms crackled and another voice joined the conversation, replying to Peter’s initial question.
“These beasts appeared through an inter-dimensional portal according to Dr Strange and we just need to kill them off. Something about Dormammu bothering him again,” said Natasha Romanoff.
Peter nodded, muttering,”Why’d he have to pick this dimension and this street?”
“What’s that, Spider-Man?”
“Nothing. I’ll get back to webbing up space-dogs.”
As he swung away, he couldn't help but wonder how much Ned would freak out if he knew about this. Peter, himself, didn't understand how the freaking Avengers considered him a super-hero they could work with.
Peter understood why they would be wary. After all, he was just a faceless web-swinging vigilante with bad jokes. That’s why he had been startled when Iron Man showed up to help him during a bridge explosion in New Jersey. The man was notoriously arrogant and cocky, but Peter saw none of that as Iron Man picked up little kids in his red and gold suit and flew them off to safety.
It felt like a full circle moment, what with Peter’s experience at the Stark Expo in 2010. He felt content that he finally got a chance to work with the man in tin, so he had a hard time not gaping at the man soundlessly when he appeared on one of Spider-Man’s nightly patrols.
His offer to help with a powered suit was, to be frank, insane. Peter didn’t even know how to feel about it because it seemed too selfless, especially considering the man didn’t know him underneath the mask. At first, he felt suspicious that Tony planned to uncover his secret identity and spill it to SHIELD.
Except… he didn’t.
Tony simply wanted to talk.
He asked Peter about why he became a vigilante, with lots of snark about his goggles and pajamas, but he offered help without any ulterior motives after hearing about Ben’s death, the driving force behind Peter’s urge to use his powers with responsibility.
The eccentric businessman dropped off a sleek black box with a brand new suit on the building rooftop a few days later, with a note that said,” Please burn that onesie.”
Peter instantly examined the entire suit for trackers, or any set up protocols that would hint his civilian life back to Stark. However, it really was just a highly advanced spandex suit with an AI system and comms that would allow easy communication mid-battle. There was nothing that suggested the billionaire even cared about who he was.
The advanced web-shooters, combat modes and integrated AI helped more than Peter could ever admit. He thanked Tony a dozen times, which Tony shrugged off by stating that his old suit was a walking hazard. Although the billionaire maintained a distance while conversing with Spider-Man, the suit was proof to Peter that his childhood hero was more than just the sarcastic and calculated man the paparazzi made him out to be. Either way, Peter’s dumpster diving days were over. Now, he could just focus on sneaking into Mid-Town Labs whenever he needed to make web fluid.
The first time his battles overlapped with an Avengers-level threat, they seemed to exchange skeptical yet curious glances. Peter was used to being underestimated though. His relentless puns made him look like more of an amateur than he was. A life or death situation was where his humor peaked unfortunately, maybe even more so than Tony’s quips mid battle. Ned would likely have exploded if he told him Spidey had pissed off more than one quarter of the Avengers with his incessant rambling.
It took a while for the Avengers to warm up to the vigilante, but the subtle alliance that formed worked quite well. The second Spider-Man turned up at any fight, he synced with the team’s comms and started offering absurd plans to take down their opponents using his favorite movies. For the first time, Peter looked forward to the extremely challenging battles just so he could jest back and forth with the team. Or arm wrestle with the Winter Soldier. Or come up with convoluted curse words until a bright red Steve gave him a long speech about language and Tony wheezed with laughter.
Snapping back to his senses, Peter absent-mindedly punched another beast into the concrete. Once he was certain that the situation was somewhat contained, his attention shifted back to how alarmingly close this street was to Aunt May. He sucked in a breath shakily and swung away, muting his comms in case anyone decided to question his silent retreat. Guilt filled his chest as he wondered how many more civilians were still struggling to escape the streets, but his gut told him that Peter needed to find May now.
He landed hard on a rooftop overlooking the structure and scanned the hospital wildly. The adrenaline was gone and overwhelming fear filled his veins. He didn’t feel like a hero. He felt like the four year old boy who stood against the door every night, waiting for his parents to come back.
He breathed out a small puff of relief as he saw the building was still intact and instantly dropped down beside the building. A digital sign near the entrance read: Evacuated before strike. All patients moved to city center safe zones.
“She must have left in time.”
His voice sounded thin as he reassured himself. The sensation that something wasn’t right wouldn’t leave his bones. Peter left quietly, his muscles aching as he began to swing back towards home. The city lights blurred against his lenses and the chattering of traffic grated against his ears. The barrage of noise made him wince as he opened the apartment window and pulled off his mask to suck in another breath.
The sun had already set.
Shoot. I forgot the sandwiches in the alley.
This thought almost distracted him from the hollow silence of the apartment. His phone suddenly rang, a jarring cacophony of cheerful bells that filled Peter’s stomach with dread. His eyebrows pursed as he picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
A pause. Then, a woman spoke,” This is Forest Hills Hospital. Is this Peter Parker speaking?”
…
“Yes.”
“I’m so sorry to inform you.. May Parker is deceased. She was caught beneath the collapse of a building near the attack. Part of the structure fell during a clash between the beasts and Avengers.”
Peter stopped breathing.
“She left the hospital earlier, but her route cut through the battle zone. First responders tried to resuscitate her, but she was unresponsive.”
The voice kept speaking about arrangements, identification, other living relatives, but Peter couldn’t hear it. He felt like he was underwater. His hand went slack and the phone hit the floor with a clank.
He stood, unmoving, staring at nothing.
Peter felt like he was floating away from the planet with no tether attached to him.
He choked as he tried to inhale air into his lungs. His knees finally gave out and he collapsed on the floor with his head in his hands. His entire body shook with the effort to contain the grief that overwhelmed him. Internally, Peter knew the gut feeling of something being deeply wrong had been following him all day. He exhaled harshly, shrinking into himself on the cold marble floor.
A keening sound echoed in the room and Peter numbly wondered how such a noise escaped his throat. What if I was faster? If I reached in time? How did the building collapse?
She died in pain.
His face crumbled as he sobbed, curled into a tight ball. Peter didn’t know how long he spent on the floor, pressing his head into his knees and wrapping his arms around himself, trying to visualise his last hug with Aunt May. Her vanilla perfume and the soft tone she took whenever she was offering advice. Whether it regarded his web-slinging escapades or learning a dance to charm his prom date.
The silence of the apartment was stifling.
All that could be heard was the lonely ticking of the clock as it neared midnight and the sniffles of a boy with a fractured soul.