Chapter Text

It’s a small cafe in Queens. Early afternoon on a Wednesday. It’s not particularly crowded inside, but it’s not empty either. There are people coming in and out all the time, only getting some coffee and continuing their day. They chatter with each other, providing some background noise. Mix that in with the soft hisses of the coffee machines and you get yourself the perfect little study atmosphere.

He’s sitting alone by the window, looking out onto the busy streets of New York. He missed this city during his 4 years away at MIT. But it doesn’t mean that he didn‘t enjoy Boston as well.

He takes another sip from his coffee —his third one this session already— and turns back towards his table. The laptop he bought with his first paycheck still running his simulation, several notebook framing it on the table. His pencil is tucked behind his ear because it would just disappear into the chaos that is his current table.

Emptying the cup, he pushes it back toward the other two cups on the table. A barista comes up and asks him, whether to take them or leave them there. He would answer but he’s just too focused on his problem at hand to mind the barista at all.

He’s working on a problem —his first problem— from his graduate engineering class.

Safe to say, he’s been stuck on it for nearly two hours already. No matter what he does, it doesn’t seem to work. Like at all. He wrote down the equation, trying to solve it. And he failed. He rewrote it, deleted them all agin, muttering under his breath. ”- Whoever wrote this assignment was either a genius or actively trying to ruin lives. Probably both."

The assignment was just pure torture for anybody trying to solve it.

”

He has arrows, corrections and coffee stains all over the page. He even considered just deleting the page and starting from scratch again but he thought better of it. At one point he just started commenting on it in the margins. ‘This equation has personally declared war on me.’

Frustrated, he closes the tab and instead opens his CS homework: “Data Structures and Algorithms — Assignment 4: Graph Optimization”. It’s not really the easiest task at hand but it’s so much better than his engineering assignment. Absentmindedly, he orders another coffee for himself before diving headfirst into the task.

The bell on the door rings, some people leave and some enter. He barely even looks up, not expecting anyone. He continues typing some more, oblivious to the world around him and only minding his own business. But someone stops next to his table.

He still didn’t notice the person standing there, too far immersed in his own mind. He finishes his line of code and starts the test, waiting till it’s over and showing the results.

“Hi, uh… Ned?”

Someone next to him is talking, addressing him. He looks up and his eyes land on someone vaguely familiar. He looks the guy up and down, until his eyes land on a bouquet of flowers. Recognition hits him immediately. It’s the guy with the flowers from he housewarming party.

He was quiet the entire time, awkwardly standing off to the sides and barely interacting with anyone. Unlike everyone else, he brought flowers. Most people just came with beer, cheap vodka or… other recreational substances. MJ had spent the whole party whispering how weird he was. But he had thought he seemed nice.

“…Hi?” The guy offers him a small, albeit awkward, smile. He’s obviously nervous about something.

“Oh…”, Ned points at him, smiling a little brighter. “You’re the guy who brought flowers,” The stranger chuckles a little. “…Yeah” — “to the housewarming.” The guy nods quickly, looking away sheepishly. He looks like he’s debating whether to jump off a cliff with how nervous he seems. But then he commits to it.

“I’m Peter.”

He simultaneously extends his hand towards him, smiling a little brighter now. He doesn’t explain why he’s here though. He doesn’t ask to sit down with him at the table. He didn’t even attempt to make small talk with Ned. Just… hand. Waiting for him.

Ned shrugs it off, puts his pencil back behind his ear —the other one this time— and takes it. He expected a normal handshake, maybe like a bruh handclap. Something ordinary that he has been doing every day.

Instead, Peter moves first. But Ned follows instinctively. His hand is moving in tandem with Peter’s before he could think about moving it. Their palms meet. They twist and turn. A ridiculous series of motion that only two idiocy’s would ever memorize. The one that made absolutely no sense to anyone watching.

Despite not knowing what he’s doing, Ned executed it perfectly. Somehow, his fingers knew exactly where to go. The Classic. The Bruh. The Divide. The Eagle. The Compound Bow. The Backhand. The Spiderslap. The Fisticuffs. The Fingerguns.

An unnecessarily elaborate ritual only the two of them could perform without thinking

Neither of them speak for a moment. Ned isn’t consciously choosing the movements. His body simply… remembers.

Peter never took his eyes off him. Watching every tiny change in Ned’s face. At first he seemed absolutely terrified. But now, now he looks almost entirely hopeful. The final part of the handshake —the finger-guns— still up.

Both of them remain quiet, just looking at leach other for a moment. Not just glancing but really looking. Ned doesn’t lower his hand, still mockingly aiming finger guns at Peter. He stares at him. Taking it all in.

“…Peter.”

The name settled strangely on his tongue. not unfamiliar. Forgotten.

Earlier that week. He’s heard it earlier that week. He was in his apartment. With MJ and Spider-Man. He was leaving through the window. Maybe? She was in the hallway. She said, “be safe, Peter.” Peter, right? Spider-Man’s first name…

Peter is still looking at him, his eyes glistening with undeniable hope.

A tiny headache blooms in his head. Like something trying to push through heavy fog.

-+-
His coffee was gone. In its place was the sharp smell of sawdust and hot metal.

A woodworking room appears around him. Not the one he used in MIT. No, it’s the one from Midtown. From his high school. There’s the same sound as always, the fluorescent lights buzzing over is head. He’s leaning against a wooden table, the edge of it against his hip. Or at least his younger self’s hip.

On the table, a purple glowing core. The alien core.

Next to him, on a stool, Peter is sitting, hunched over the object, trying to take it apart carefully but when it failed, just hitting it with a hammer instead. He’s leaning closer to Peter than he probably should be.

“Thanks for bailing on me”, he hears himself say. Where did Peter not show up to make him that irritated?

“Yeah, well something came up.” The young Peter told him. He’s smiling brightly, no trace of that nervousness from right now in his face visible. He moves to the side, revealing more of the alien weapon being dismantled.

“Whoah! What’s that?” He’s asking Peter again. But Peter just shrugs and turns back to the object.

“I don’t know, man. Some guy tried to vaporize me with it.” He mutters, not showing as much emotion as would be expected after such a sentence.

“Awesome”

Just for that comment, lil Ned receives a glare from Peter. But instead of being intimidating as it was supposed to be, it rather looks like he’s cutely pouting.

“I mean not awesome.” Young Ned corrects himself, shaking his head vigorously. “Totally uncool that guy. So scary.”

Peter once again hits the core with the hammer, but it’s still stuck inside the metal housing of the weapon. “Well look, i think it’s uh,” Peter starts explaining it. “a power source.”

“Well yeah, but it’s connected to all these microprocessors.” Peter twirls the core between his fingers, then clamping it to the table.

“That’s an inductive charging plate,” Ned points out. “It’s what i use to charge my toothbrush.” He leans over the table.

“Whoever is building these weapons is obviously combining alien tech with ours.” And somewhere deep inside him, the sentence knocked something loose.

“That is literally the coolest sentence anyone has ever said. I just wanna thank you for letting me part of your journey into this amazi—“

Peter took that hammer and hit the core with full force, sending it flying into the air. They both turn towards their teacher, hoping they haven’t been seen just now.

“Keep your fingers clear of the blades.” Is all the teacher said before continuing to read his magazine.

Ned slowly looks at Peter. Peter looks back just as slowly. They’re both trying their best not to laugh. Peter picks up the core again, examining it in his hand. “We gotta figure out what this thing is and who makes it.”

Ned immediately switches into problem-solving mode, trying to aid his friend. “Go to the lab after class.”

“Run some tests?”

“Obviously.”

They both smile, going in for a handshake. Their handshake. The one that no one else has even tried.

-+-

“You okay?” Peter asks him, looking confused for a second. He’s still aiming finger-guns at him.

Ned just stares at him, still dealing with the memory he just experienced for the first time. He’s not scared. Not even angry. Just completely overwhelmed with the situation. Because he doesn’t remember everything.

But he remembers enough.

His first words after the flashback are something simple. Not ‘you’re Spider-Man’ Not yet, at least. Simply just

“Peter.”

Because his name is the only thing that survived.

All at once, the sound around him come rushing back in. The people talking to their friends about their day, the baristas arguing with the coffee machines.

But Ned just stares.

Not at the guy with the flowers for their party. Not even at Spider-Man. At…

Peter.

His breathing catches in his throat as his eyes begin to water. He might embarrass himself like this but looking up, he sees that Peter is crying as well, trying his best to keep the tears at bay.

“…It’s you.”

Peter nods, not being able to talk as well. He’s already crying by now, tears trailing down his face. Ned laughs through the tears, the sound coming out raspy and broken. But he doesn’t care.

“…It was always you.”

He stands up from his chair so quickly, it almost falls over. In this moment, the world could be ending and he wouldn’t bat an eye. He pulls Peter into a hug, squeezing him tightly in his embrace.

Peter freezes for one heartbeat, hesitating a barely perceptible amount. Then he hugs him back just as tightly, maybe a little softer even. They stay like that for a unknown amount of time, neither wanting to let go of the other.

“You idiot,” Ned mutters while still hugging him. Peter laughs and it feels like the whole world just lights up. “You absolute adorable idiot”

“I know.” Peter wipes a tear away, immediately returning his hand onto Ned’s back. They stay like that for a while longer but it’s Peter who breaks the hug off.

“You came back” it’s more of a reassurance to himself. A statement that this is actually happening and not just a dream. But Peter closes his eyes, tears still falling, as his voice cracks out.

“…I promised I would.”

—+—

They’ve probably talked for hours now, the sun beginning to set behind the horizon and the assignments long forgotten. Glancing at his watch and realizing hoe late it is, Ned moves to get up.

“Come on. We’re leaving.” Peter looks up at him, his face pulled into a confused frown. “Where to?” Right, he didn’t even ask him if he wanted to.

Ned just grins and offers his hand to help him get up. “Home.” Peter relaxes and chuckles a little, letting himself get pulled up by Ned. And holy moly. Is Peter light. Is that another one of his spider traits?

But then Peter asks him “Again?” And that thought gets pushed into the back of his mind. Because that tiny word ‘again’ makes him pause. Again.

Of course. Peter had been there. Just a weeks ago. The housewarming party and as Spider-Man. Without ever being there as Peter.

He feels another tiny memory click into place. The image isn’t complete, just a few tiny flashes of it.

Peter sprawled across the couch, talking distantly. MJ making coffee in May’s kitchen. All three of them laughing at something. On the TV, a movie that nobody was actually watching.

His smile softens a bit more at that. “…that’s right.”

They both make their way towards the door and leave into the New York streets. To gather again, reunited after four years of not knowing who the other one is.

The whole way back, Ned keeps pestering Peter about his life and what has been changing and what stayed the same.

Peter in return, answered most of the questions Ned had asked. Even the personal ones. He told him that he’s been going out a lot more as Spider-Man these past few years. And that he had to rebuild himself an identity from scratch. Also that he told MJ everything but she doesn’t remember a thing.

But he hadn’t told him about his work on the inhibitor or his evolving spider powers. That, he’ll keep to himself for now.

The questions like “How long have you been alone?” Or “Who is there to help you when you need it?” Have been dodged. Or Peter tried to. Ned noticed it and decided to mot push it. Yet.

Not long after do they reach the front door. Before Ned can even pull out his keys, MJ opens the door for them. “Hey Ned. Peter.” It’s a neutral greeting. Kind of comfortable for their situation even. Not a hint of recognition in it though.

Peter smiles, a sadness setting over his eyes. “Hi.” She just steps aside and motions for him to enter. No awkward introductions needed anymore. Not after what happened last week between them.

—+—

The diner dynamic got weird pretty fast. Maybe it was even weird from the beginning on, and only he didn’t notice it until later on. MJ keeps treating Peter like a stranger he just met but trusting him enough to protect her life.

Ned keeps on treating him like the brother he just got back. He missed these conversations they used to have. And up until a few hours ago, he didn’t even know they had existed. It’s strange, remembering parts of your brain thought forgotten.

Peter probably has it the worst of the bunch. He’s constantly caught up between both realities.

It actually started fairly normal. MJ had made some stir-fry with whatever vegetables she could find in the fridge —which were a surprisingly large amount too. They put out the dishes, Peter knowing where they are without ever being over to their place like this. When asked, he just shrugged and told them that they were always there.

MJ had asked him, if he wanted to drink something. And out of pure instinct and habit, he had answered, “whatever you’re having.” But then he froze. Because that’s exactly the way they used to talk to each other. MJ doesn’t even notice it. But Ned does.

And as Peter reaches for his drink, a glass of sparkling water with ice cubes, his hand trembles a little bit. A just barely there shaking. Ned noticed it. And Peter pretends he didn’t.

At one point, MJ absent-mindedly adjusted the back dahlia on her necklace. It’s still broken, the same petals missing as before. Peter notices immediately, his eyes lingering on the jewels for a second too long. Long enough for MJ to catch him looking.

“What?” She asks him, putting the pendant back into her t-shirt. Peter just smiles at her, hiding the disappointment with bright looks. “…Nothing.” She looks down at thetable.

“I’ve had this thing since London, bout 6 years now.” She shrugs. “Never thought about why.”

“It suits you…”

“Thanks.” She smiles a little but does give him a side eye afterwards. But that’s it. There’s no magical memory flash, no dramatic music. Just this tiny proof that even if the spell erased names and faces, it couldn't quite erase everything. Some choices survived because they had become part of who she was.

After that, the conversations flow relatively normal. Or at least, as normal is they can be in their messed up constellation. But it’s something familiar. Because for Peter, this is the first time in years he’s sitting with people who feel familiar. And for once, he is relaxed.

Too relaxed. And that’s when the first weird thing happens.

Peter laughed at something Ned said. Or he tried to. But instead of a full on laugh, only a quiet little sound escaped his body. Almost a little rumbling noise.

Ned stops mid-sentence and turns to look at him. “Did you just…?” And Peter freezes beside him.

“Huh?”

“Peter, did you purr?” Ned’s brows furrow in confusion. And Peter looks horrified at that.

“No.” He answers way too quickly.

“Peter???”

“I did not,” he tries to defend himself.

“You did.” MJ tells him completely deadpan.

He covers his face, turning a bright shade of red from embarrassment. “Great. Fantastic. Another thing my body decided to do without asking me for permission”

“Your body?” Ned asks him, looking rather concerned about that statement.

And Peter realizes he has to tell him everything now.