Chapter Text
“Good morning, Peter, time to wake up!” E.V said in an annoyingly chipper tone.
Peter groaned.
Man, he did not feel like getting up today.
And while that was usually his norm, today was even more unbearable than usual. For starters last night he had been up late. Between three bank robberies and 5 muggings, oh and don’t forget about that cat stuck in the tree!
He guessed what they said about New York City was true, the city never did really sleep.
Too bad Spider-Man had to.
He got three hours of sleep last night, which was a bit less than usual but that was okay he was used to that!
The main problem was that his healing abilities had been off recently. Typically, he could heal fast, usually overnight. He could have stab wounds that were paper cuts by morning, broken ribs that were nothing more than a bruise by dawn.
Or at least he used to.
Now the healing took longer, sometimes days. Which should not have been the worst thing, however between his lack of rest, working two jobs, and continuing his Spider-Man activities.
It was safe to say his body felt pretty sucky.
He guessed the lack of healing was probably due to his lack of a stable diet. It’s not like he was trying to starve! Between rent, fixing his suit, medical supplies, and new tech, money was scarce these days.
Peter Parker may have needed rest, but Spider-Man didn’t. And that was a luxury he couldn’t afford anymore. Dewolff often tried to get him to take a night off.
“It’s okay Spidey, go take the night off, see your family or friends!” She would say to him urgently.
One night off meant people getting hurt, meant seeing more people he couldn’t save, more people he let die.
And he wasn’t having that, not anymore.
Plus, it’s not like he had any more family or friends. But that was definitely not a can of worms he was opening today.
“E.V, what day is it?” He asked as he got out of bed, the mattress squeaking aggressively.
“It’s August 10th, Peter.”
He felt his stomach drop. Today was his birthday, he was twenty years old, and he had almost let it slip his mind.
A milestone birthday, and yet it was one he was spending truly alone. No one to celebrate with, no one who cared.
Not one person in the world cared that it was Peter Parker’s birthday.
He let that sink in.
This was not his first birthday alone;
“It wasn’t so bad. It was better this way.” He told himself that.
Like a mantra he repeated in his head over and over. Just like he had the last two years.
This was his life now, Spider-Man could handle it; he always did.
He just wasn’t sure Peter Parker could. But that didn’t matter, not anymore.
With great power came great responsibility, and he wasn’t forgetting that twice.
————
The job wasn’t so bad, he guessed. Spending his mornings working at an auto repair shop hadn’t been exactly what he pictured, but it was better than nothing. The only problem today was that his stupid ribs weren’t fully healed, and he was starting to get like really sore.
Fixing cars though, looking at machines. It all came so naturally that he could let his mind wander.
It also was comforting in a way, reminded him of old times, like when he used to work in the lab with Mr. Stark-
Nope not bringing up old memories, not today.
Mr. Riley, his boss, was also a nice guy, always letting him take home spare parts, anything he wasn’t using.
“Hey, Peter,” his boss said approaching the car he was looking at.
“Hi, Mr. Riley,” he responded calmly looking up from the hood.
“Jeez kid, what happened to you?”
At first Peter was confused until he remembered his bruised face. It was the last mugger of the night, and he had been kinda tired and really sloppy. Curse his poor healing.
“Oh, right- uh” Peter fumbled for an excuse.
“I got mugged.” He said shrugging.
Mr. Riley seemed worried.
“That’s the fifth time in the last two months!”
Peter felt his cheeks flush.
“Huh-guess I just have a-um punchable face.”
Peter internally groaned at the self-deprecation and poor excuses. But Mr. Riley didn’t question it, he just went back to work.
Maybe today he would have more leftover scraps he could take to his place, work on his web shooters or something else. That would be a fun birthday present. Something he knew he would enjoy.
——-
Busting tables at a small diner in Queens hadn’t always been on his bucket list. But the tips were nice, they paid him under the table, and there was always free food. Which he was getting pretty desperate for.
Before going off on his own, he hadn’t really known what it was like to be hungry. Yeah, he and May weren’t the most well off, they struggled. But never like this. Granted he would have a better savings account if not for his crazy metabolism, expensive rent, and well Spider-manning.
So yeah, maybe not what he had in mind for his birthday, but all was gonna be peachy.
He found himself thinking, just for a moment where he would be if everything was how it used to be. Would he be with MJ and Ned, where even were they now?
Were they back at MIT yet? Still home for the summer? What were their lives like? Did they like school? Have future plans?
“Parker!” His boss yelled. “Back to work.”
He wished Mr. Riley was the boss at every establishment he worked at.
The next few hours were a blur, it was busy, but he liked that. Made the time go by fast. The evening rush had died down, and it was now 8:30.
“I’m sending you home early.” His boss said shortly. And Peter felt conflicted, on one hand he would have more time to work on tech tonight, but on the other it was less money.
Oh well, not like it was his choice anyway. He doubted his boss would react nicely if he asked to stay later, especially when he was trying to send him home to save money.
For a brief second Peter thought of telling her it was his birthday. Which was kinda stupid because his boss would clearly not care. He guessed he just wanted someone, anyone to know, to talk to.
With that thought concluded he suddenly knew what he would do with his spare time.
——
“Hey, May, sorry I haven’t been around in a few days. Been a bit busy I guess.” He gently rested the flowers in front of the grave. Staring into the cobble headstone.
“It’s my birthday today, can you believe it! I’m twenty years old.” He said giving a half chuckle.
He paused for a minute before continuing.
“I’m really trying to do better, be better, I guess. Crime rates are lower than they have been in ages, and it took some time but people actually like me-well Spider-Man again!”
“So yeah, things are okay, they’re okay, they’re okay.”
It was starting to feel like he was trying to convince himself of that.
He felt his breath hitch, the weight of everything bringing more pain than any broken rib, any bruised face.
“The truth is May, I’m alone, I feel really really alone. It’s my birthday today, and there isn’t a single person in the entire universe who knows.”
“I think I just need to continue moving forward, think about why I’m doing this.”
He knew why, because if he had the power to do the right thing, and he didn’t. When the bad things happened, they happened because of him.
“God, May it’s been two years and I still, I just—“
He felt his breath hitch, tears fall.
“I just miss you, I miss what it was like to feel—to feel love I guess.”
But Spider-Man had to do the hard thing, he always had to.
Even if it broke Peter Parker’s heart.
He felt a buzz come from his phone, pulling him out of his thoughts. It was a link sent from Dewolff.
BREAKING NEWS: NEW MUTANT ATTACKS MIDTOWN | 10 INJURED-
Peter felt his heart sink, just his luck he guessed.
“Goodbye May, I’ll see you- I’ll see you soon.”
——
Swinging through New York had always calmed him down, which was an odd thought considering he was well over 100 feet in the air. Somehow being so high grounded him. Because now he wasn’t Peter Parker, he was Spider-Man. And Spider-Man didn’t need anyone, not really.
The sun had now long been set, the city skyscraper lights moving past him in blurs of colour. It would almost be beautiful, if he didn’t see all the smoke.
As he got closer to the block, he saw it. Buildings on fire, people running through the streets. Who had done this?
That’s when he saw him. A guy with a crazy scar on his face, and metal suit that spanned across his whole body. That wasnt the worst part. The worst part was the long tail attached to the back, which had a crazy spike.
Yeah, not scary at all. This was totally normal.
Between all that, his spidey sense going crazy, and the menacing laugh he was sporting. He was pretty sure the guy was evil.
Peter landed in front of Scorpion, get it? Because of the tail.
“Ah Spider-Man, finally ready to face death?”
Peter felt his eyes roll. Who did this guy think he was? He sounded like a stock movie villain, a walking stereotype.
“Yeah buddy alright, you’re not the first person to say that to me.”
“But I will be the last!”
If Peter was being honest, he was tired. His body hurt, he was tired, and hungry too. Huh, he really better eat soon. Man, this wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to start his twenties.
But Spider-Man always got back up, never gave up.
So he fought.
The guy may have sounded dumb, but he clearly was enhanced, not to mention the long spike thing he had.
He felt himself fade into a familiar rhythm, but he was distracted. What about the people in the burning buildings? Was Dewolff here? Surely, she was helping get them out?
Unfortunately, those questions had to wait, best to deal with the Scorpion guy first.
Peter punched him and watched the guy satisfyingly stumble back, good. Maybe he could wrap this up soon and end the night in a more mellow way, like helping old ladies cross the street, or checking in on that kitty from yesterday-
Suddenly, he staggered, a wave of dizziness washed over him. This wasn’t normal, what was happening?
He felt the scorpion throw him into a wall, a shockwave of pain moving through him.
“Ouch, that one’s gonna hurt Tomorrow” he mumbled to himself. He staggered back up, ignoring the fact his spidey sense was all over the place.
What really had just happened? Between that and his spotty healing factor-
it was like his body was shutting down.
“I thought spiders always landed on their feet!” Scorpion said gearing up for another go.
This guy was annoying, it wasn’t spiders; it was cats!
Peter ignored the comment and continued on.
But the dizziness, accompanied with old and new injuries were making him sloppy. This stupid Scorpion guy was proving to be quite the nuisance.
The smoke was also spreading now, making the air heavy. How many buildings were burning? Was everyone okay?
His spidey sense started to go crazy, a loud buzzing.
“Hey Spider-Man!” The scorpion said tauntingly.
Peter watched with horror as the guy used his tail like a claw, taking a massive chunk of building debris, and throwing it at the entrance of a nearby building. There were people there, trying to escape, thinking they were safe- he had to- he had to.
His mind was moving slower then usual, his body to. He had to keep moving.
“LOOK OUT” he said, hoping they would hear him.
He swopped in quickly clearing out the 5 people by the entrance. He felt relieved, everyone was safe, they were okay.
“SPIDER-MAN!” Someone screamed in horror, and that’s when he felt his spidey sense go haywire.
But what was the-
Suddenly he felt the debris pummel down on him, pinning him to the ground.
Oh right, he forgot about that.
He felt the air come out of him, his ribs cracked. Man, he didn’t know how many more broken ribs he could take today.
He was fine, just needed to take a breath, get back up, and move this debris. He had moved entire buildings he was fine- he was fine.
Only then Peter noticed once again how slow his mind was moving, then he realized. He hadn’t ate today.
That probably wasn’t great, especially with the lack of sleep.
He suddenly felt the weight come off him all at once, that felt good, that felt good, had he done that-
“Looks like this bug is about to get squashed!”
Peter looked up and saw the Scorpion standing menacingly.
“I’m getting so sick of these bug jokes” he mumbled before coughing up some blood.
Huh, maybe he was a bit more injured than he realized.
“Any last words?”
Peter felt a wave of confusion hit him, last words? What was he- he had to get-
Then he felt it, the terrible spiked tail went right through his stomach.
Oh god, oh god- oh god-
He saw the Scorpion give one last menacing laugh before running off.
“That Scorpion guy really is annoying.” He thought distantly.
The fact it didn’t hurt should have been the first sign.
He was in shock. If he didn’t move now, he was going to die.
“Spider-Man, are you okay!” He heard Dewolff’s voice getting closer.
He had to move now.
He felt himself groan as he sat up, still feeling dazed. But he got up.
Spider-Man always gets up.
Peter looked around and saw that quite the crowd was starting to form. He could feel the worried stares surrounding him.
If only the stares could be for Peter Parker.
“Spider-Man! Spiderman oh god. Here let me call an ambulance.” Dewolff said looking extremely worried.
Peter felt his blood go cold. Hospitals? Definitely not. He was not having his identity leaked, nope not today!
“Actually, I’m good, really! Just gonna swing home and uh-“
He took a step and felt himself nearly fall over. He probably would have if Dewolff hadn’t caught him.
“Please Spider-Man,” she said shakily. “Let me help you.”
A part of him wanted to give in, he had a long day and for once it could be nice. Nice to be looked after, to know someone cared.
No, alone was better. It had to be better.
“Nah, it’s okay really! I’ve got uh-people for this sorta thing.” He shrugged it off.
“I’ll call you later!” He said before shooting a web and leaving.
He could feel the blood pouring out. It soaked into the suit, into his skin.
Peter had to make it home, and fast. He could feel his vision fading, the city turning into one massive blur.
“Almost there, almost there.” He thought to himself in a daze.
Suddently, the small building appeared in the distance. Hope filled his mind.
He went to his window which he always left unlocked and pushed it open. He tried not to think about the bloody handprints he was leaving behind.
Entering his home should have given him a sense of relief. He made it, he actually made it.
But for what really? This wasn’t home, it never had been.
Home was building Lego sets with Ned, the smell of May’s terrible cooking, calling MJ after a long night of patrol. He hadn’t had a home in a long, long time.
He felt himself sink to the floor. Oh right, he was bleeding, he really had to fix that.
But his floor had never felt this comfortable. He could stay here, just for a few minutes. It was his birthday after all.
He could feel the blood spreading further, what a terrible mess. Hopefully it didn’t stain.
And yet he just couldn’t get up.
The loneliness and pain were threatening to consume him whole.
He could die, right now. And would anyone shed a tear? He bitterly knew the answer. Befriending loneliness was an idea he had tried. For years he had told himself it was better this way. Even now he still did. But was that really true?
“I wonder what Ned and MJ are doing now?” He thought before promptly blacking out.
—-
“Happy birthday, Peter!” May said running into his room. Party balloons in hand.
Peter thought back to this memory often, it had been his 10th birthday.
“Thanks, May!” He said giddy before going in for a hug.
“Come! Come!” she said ushering him out into the living room.
“I made pancakes, and you have presents to open!”
Peter felt so warm. The smell of batter, the decorations spanning across the apartment, May by his side.
He could stay here, right here forever and be happy.
After a morning of festivities and Star Wars marathons May handed him a present.
“Open it, Peter.” she said looking very excited.
Peter ripped off the paper, strand by strand and saw it.
It was the Lego set he had been wanting for months, the one May had said they couldn’t afford.
“But May, how did you?!”
“Happy birthday Peter,” she said and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
He felt so grateful, so happy, so whole. This moment was perfect; everything was perfect just like this.
“But it’s time to get up now,” May said, staring at him deeply.
“What? May I’m good right here, staying with you.” He said, feeling himself start to cry.
“I know sweetie,” she said grabbing his hands.
“I wish it could stay like this too,” she said solemnly.
“But you have to get up.”
“Now.”
Peter sat up quickly and immediately felt a surge of pain. It had been a dream, a memory. He wasn’t with May, he was alone. Again.
“Oh god” he said out loud looking down at himself. There was blood everywhere. He probably would have been dead. If not for his healing ability slowly trying to knit himself back together.
No one may have cared about Peter Parker. But people needed Spider-Man. Peter thought of May. He had to get up, for her, for all the people he couldn’t save, and for all the people he would.
Peter half walked, half dragged himself to the bathroom. Every step creating a new wave of pain.
His ribs, his stomach, his back, everything hurt.
He popped open the first aid kit and remembered an easier time. May would have been freaked out by this large of an injury, so he would have tried to hide it. But sometimes Ned would help him out, or MJ, or Mr. Stark.
Times then were easier when he didn’t have to do it all alone.
———
Between stitching his stomach close and tending to some other injuries, by the time Peter collapsed onto his mattress, it was 4:00 am. His terrible birthday was officially over. Which was somehow the best luck he had all day.
Tomorrow would be better. He promised himself. Maybe he would stop by the coffee shop MJ worked at or at least used to. He hadn’t seen her in years, but maybe she would be there, just this once.
He let himself imagine it, seeing their faces, even if only from afar.
A nice thought to cling to as he felt the tiredness take over.
It was only then he realized two things.
He really needed to eat something, and he worked at 7:00 am.
Shit.