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Peter pushed the door closed behind him firmly, making sure it was locked as he moved inside and placed his key on the hook. He flicked a light on as he walked into the kitchen, just to find that the lighting still wasn’t fixed.
The apartment was small, but that was okay—it wasn’t like he ever had guests over. besides, this was probably the best kind of apartment he was going to get off the books. One bedroom, bathroom, and a kitchen combined with a living room. it was plenty for him and his minimal personal belongings.
He’d never been able to get much from May’s apartment after… everything. He couldn’t risk going in there and getting caught, and then accused of stealing from a dead person. He did briefly wonder how criminal proceedings would go with someone who had no record of existing but figured it wouldn’t be worth the hassle. And part of him didn’t believe he deserved anything from his old life. How could he?
Besides, he was starting over. And maybe a selfish part of him thought that if he left that apartment as untouched as it was, he would find his way back to that old life someday, just as it was… as she was.
Yeah, he was still in denial.
He sat his backpack on the beanbag that could have been a sofa if he wasn’t poor, and pulled out the shitty laptop to place it on charge. With any luck it would manage to charge enough to finish editing the photos he’d taken for the Bugle.
That’s how low his life was now, being a photographer for the same company that had quite literally ruined his life. But the way he saw it, he would kind of be able to control the narrative that way. If they’re only getting pictures of spider-man doing normal, friendly stuff then surely it would be hard to spin it evilly. Still, this was JJJ he was talking about, so nothing would stop that man from trying to drag Spider-Man’s name through the mud.
He grabbed out a candle from the cupboard and lit it, placing it on the kitchen counter as he made himself a sandwich from whatever he had in his fridge. Which was not a lot, but hey, at least it was something. The candle flame flickered next to his elbow as he ate, scrolling on his phone to escape his thoughts like most evenings. Time went faster that way.
He walked into his bedroom and opened his closet, grabbing his suit from a box underneath the loose floorboard and getting changed. One of the only good things about having his own place was that he could technically leave his suit wherever he wanted, but right now he wasn’t taking any chances with an inspection bound to happen within a week or so. Then he would go back to carelessly draping it across his bed, or the beanbag, or kitchen counter.
Once he was fully situated, he propped open his window and climbed outside into the night air.
There was something about that night that led him around the city mindlessly. It’s not like there wasn’t any crime happening, because there was, but it was all small stuff that took him thirty seconds to deal with each time. he needed no brain power, most of the time he didn’t even have to spit out a witty line before taking down the bad guy. It was the type of stuff that his body could do on auto pilot. But, by the time ten pm rolled around, it was quiet.
After some wandering, he found himself sitting on the lip of a roof. One leg dangling and one close to his chest, his chin resting on his knee and arms wrapped around his leg. His gaze went out towards the city, but he wasn’t really looking at anything in particular. he was just waiting, he supposed. For what? He didn’t know. Action? Crime? Screams? Someone to speak to him?
That was the thing, these days. People talked to Spider-Man, but they didn’t speak to Peter Parker. Most of his conversations went like “Hey, you okay?” “thanks for saving me Spider-Man.” Or “that guy stole my bag, spider-man! Please help!” or “why are you still doing all this? You’re not a police officer. Jameson says you’re a menace, I think he’s right.”
There's only so many I’m your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man! s he can say.
He knew this was going to happen, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop it, but he can’t help but feel like he underestimated how… lonely he was going to be. he’d always been prone to getting trapped in his own thoughts, but he’d always had someone there to eventually snap him out of it. MJ. Ned. May. Even Tony Stark had inadvertently done it, though Peter wasn’t sure if the man ever realised. God, Peter still felt guilty about everything. Tony. He hadn’t even been a part of Peter’s life for that long, yet he was still… everywhere. Posters, photos, videos, news. Artwork. Reminding Peter of every single time he’d let Tony down. Every time he couldn’t be “better” like Tony had wanted him to. but it was an impossible demand, really. It always had been. Peter couldn’t be better than Tony Stark. Sure, he could not build weapons of mass destruction or not give a teenager a slightly involuntary trip to Germany, but he couldn’t be Iron Man or be smart enough to save the world, brave enough to save the world, kind enough to offer a position on the Avengers. And Maybe if Peter had never followed Tony to space, then Tony would have had more time to focus—less distractions, and all that. Peter didn’t really know where this was all going, he guessed he just… missed him?
And may.
He wasn’t ready to think about her.
He tried not to.
He just had to be better. For her.
Footsteps across the other side of the roof.
“Hey.”
Peter snapped into focus, turning around and standing up, tense. Who the hell was on a roof at this time of night?
It was a blonde woman. She seemed kind of familiar?
“Hello…” He said, hesitantly, stepping away from the edge of the roof and closer to the centre. Fingers twitching near his web shooters.
“Nice rooftop, right?” She strolled forward with a remarkable amount of carelessness. Getting further into the light, peter figured out why she seemed familiar. She was one of those… new Avengers? Yelena. Natasha’s sister.
Peter paused. “Yeah, nice vantage point.” He admitted. His heart was pounding. He turned as she walked right past him and stood on the edge. He was perplexed.
“It’s not too exposed, either.” She added, pausing for a few seconds to stand still on the edge. “The roof goes out enough that its not really visible from the street, raised edges, angles, all that stuff.”
“I guess…”
“But you’d still be shot dead from those windows there, that carpark there, and if a really tall guy stood on top of that bus, I think he could make a shot.” She pointed out various locations in the surrounding few blocks.
Peter paused for a moment. His spider-sense wasn’t going off, and hadn’t been going off, so he knew he was at least somewhat safe. “Well, there’s no one in any of those places.” He said timidly.
She shrugged, now walking on the edge of the roof like it was a balancing beam. “I know.”
“So, what, uh, what brings you to this… this rooftop?” Peter asked, guard still up.
“Nothing in particular. I just go wherever I want, really.” Yelena responded. Peter watched her pace along the roof.
“Can—can you step away from the ledge? You’re kind of making me nervous, ma’am.” He stammered out.
“What’s the difference? You were here.” She responded, pausing and leaning forward with her toes hanging over the side.
“Well, I’m Spider-Man, I guess and, I spend a lot of time on rooftops and—I don’t actually have to justify myself to you.” He was rambling a bit. He had to remind himself that he’d never met her before, that she hadn’t known Peter Parker, that nothing was really going to happen because they were talking. He couldn’t stomach talking to someone who knew him once. He’d never even gone back to the coffee shop after that first time.
“That is true.” She shrugged, turning on the spot to walk back the way she came, before jumping off the edge after a few seconds and back onto the roof. “So, Spider-Man, how’s life been after the whole… space thing? Yeah, I wasn’t there, but I heard you were.”
“Oh, yeah. I was there. it was crazy. Don’t recommend it.” He responded, feeling a bit better now that she wasn’t on the edge of the roof. If shed accidentally fallen he would have had to save her, and it would have been embarrassing for the both of them.
“So, what’s your deal?” she says abruptly.
“Uh… on what?”
“I know about you, know what you do. Why aren’t you like, I don’t know, an Avenger or something? You don’t even have to join our team. You could join Sam Wilson’s! They’re less cool but they’d do the job.” She shrugged on her last sentence.
“Oh.” Peter paused. He didn’t know he was on anyone’s radar. “It’s just better this way.” He responded.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a granola bar, unwrapping it. “But you’ve worked as part of a team before, right?” She took a bite.
“Yeah, and Mr Stark even asked me to become an Avenger once, though I’m still not entirely sure of he was being serious.” Peter admitted. “But things are… complicated and having a secret identity kind of means I can’t work as a proper team.”
“Like, a trust thing? Is it a trust thing?” Yelena asked, pointing at him almost absentmindedly as she ate. “Cause that I understand, you spend so much time on your own and its like whoa should I really trust these guys?”
“It’s not that I don’t—I mean, it’s hard. I don’t know all of you that well, and I’ve had some things happen regarding my identity. So, once I took care of that I realised that I really can’t tell anyone who I am under the mask. I can’t join a team because it wouldn’t be fair on you guys; you probably wouldn’t want to work with a guy you know nothing about... it’s easier alone.”
Yelena shrugged, staring at him and taking another bite of her bar without saying a word.
“I’m cool with spontaneous team ups, though? Like if we happen to be fighting the same bad guy, or there’s a really big bad thing happening, I promise I can work together in situations like that.” He added, a bit nervous. He wasn’t trying to give the impression that he wasn’t trustworthy, after all. And he wasn’t trying to say that he couldn’t trust them, either. Just that… being alone is just the way it has to be.
“Whatever you say, spider-guy. I still think you’d be a good Avenger. Or Thunderbolt. Or Avengerz with a—you know what, forget about the name, it’s a touchy subject. Bucky and Sam are fighting for custody.”
“Why don’t you just merge teams? From a history perspective, splitting the Avengers isn’t a smart idea.” Peter asks, crouching on the roof’s edge casually. “I was at Germany that day. The old Captain America fighting Tony Stark. Sam Wilson and James Rhodes. That Black Panther royalty guy was even there. It got out of hand.”
“True,” Yelena acknowledged his point with a head tilt. “The issue is my team is a bunch of misfits, criminals, mental health issues or all of the above. We’re too rough for the Avengers, you know? We’ve got issues.”
“Aww come on, are you kidding?” Peter protested. “You’re like the coolest fighter assassin person! and you have Bucky! And whatever happened to that guy that did that shadow thing by the way? Did you take him down?”
“Oh, Bob?” Yelena brightens. “We love Bob! He’s one of us. kind of. He can’t really do that god stuff unless he’s spiralling mentally… so really we’re just keeping him company and caring about him cause he’s our friend. Maybe one day he’ll be better enough to control it when he’s happy but for now he mostly just helps me pick my outfits and joins us for movie nights.”
“So, he’s like a regular guy?”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
Yelena tucked her rubbish into her pocket, having finished the granola bar. “well, I’m going to go now. But the offer still stands. I would give you a business card, but Walker and Ava keep arguing over what colour our logo should be.”
“It’s fine, I don’t even have pockets.” Peter gestured to his suit.
“You should fix that. Pockets are very useful.”
“I should.” Peter agreed with a chuckle.
“See, teamwork is useful!” Yelena insisted. She walked over to the edge of the roof and climbed over the side. “Think about it!” She said.
Peter just gave her a wave. She disappeared out of sight, and he didn’t bother trying to see where she’d gone, knowing she’d be impossible to track through the city. An ex black window assassin is not someone you can track.
Peter stayed on that roof the rest of the night. No crimes, screams, or any weird noises to follow. But its not like he had anyone waiting for him at home, no questions to answer or apologies to give. No aunt, no Tony Stark, no friends, no team.
That’s the way it was now.
It wasn’t going to change just because he spoke to someone for more than thirty seconds, for the first time in months. It wasn’t going to change because someone else suggested he join a team. It wasn’t going to change. This was his life now, and sure he might be desperate for more conversations like that, but that’s all they’ll ever be. conversations. Spider-Man is a vigilante, who’s identity is confidential and always will be. And Peter Parker was a guy who never existed, yet now lives in an apartment. Peter Parker has no one, and that’s the way it was.