Work Text:
So now that no one remembers who Peter Parker is anymore... do people who have passed still remember him? Did their memories with him ever truly existed?
Well… Peter Parker probably thinks about this all the time. In fact this question probably haunts him.
He lays awake at night tossing and turning in his sleep. Wondering if one day, when he dies, if he ever sees Aunt May or Tony Stark again, if they would remember him?
“I’m sorry…” he whispers into the dark. “I’m sorry I let the bad guy win.” He let’s the darkness of the night drown out his senses. It was better than letting the guilt overwhelm him again. This was all his fault. If he never trusted the wrong guy, if he never tried to give away the very last thing Tony has left to him. Maybe all of this didn’t have to happen. Maybe he wouldn’t have to be alone all these years. And maybe, just maybe, he could feel happy again.
He pushes the thoughts away, pulling out his phone to doomscroll a little. He should really get some rest. But if he avoided sleeping, it felt like he could delay starting a brand new day even longer.
Seeing the light stream in his windows used to be his favourite thing. It meant a chance, where he could make a difference. Where he could do something right. It got him excited to live.
But now, it’s different. The moment his eyes pick up on any light, he turns away from the window. Pulling up the covers, over his head, to try and keep his eyes closed for as long as possible. Each day was just another realisation that Peter Parker has no place in this world, that he was all alone.
Everyone has moved on. Except him.
Ned and MJ had continued on living their lives, only without him. He feels his body tremble unconsciously as he thinks about them. Even after four years just thinking about them, still hurts more than getting bashed by a truck. It makes him so guilty but he feels like he can’t quite let go yet. Now his friends were off to MIT, living the dream that was just as much his, as it is theirs. It’s worse that it all happened so effortlessly, how he no longer fits, in the only home he knows.
He tries to tell himself that what he was doing, that staying away, was all for their benefit, for keeping them safe. He couldn’t - no, he wouldn’t. He would do anything to make sure what happened to Aunt May will never happen again. No one else was going to get hurt because of Peter Parker.
Without him ever realising it, he throws himself into superhero work. Being Spiderman was easy. He enjoys the routine of talking to E.V., putting on his suit and the satisfaction of doing something good. It was nice being out in the world. It was really the only human interaction he got to have. As Peter Parker, he made it a point to talk to no one, even his neighbours. And by being Spiderman he got to meet detective Dewolff and Frank. They were probably his favourite coworkers ever.
As he starts spending more time as Spiderman, he barely notices that he has started to erase Peter Parker from existence. If no one knew Peter Parker existed, was Peter Parker even real? Because what else were we? If not beings made out of memories.
He thinks of all the other people he met, people that he lost, purely because he was both Peter Parker and Spiderman. He thinks of Happy, of Pepper and the avengers. He thinks of Morgan as well, how he would never get the chance to meet Tony’s daughter. How she would never know that Tony had practically been a father to him. He mourns how she would never get to grow up with Tony. It makes him feel selfish that he got to.
Worst of all he misses his Aunt May fiercely. The grief and guilt always lingered at the back of his mind. She was the most important person in his life and he lost her. And now, all he could do was his best to honour her. It was the only way he knew how to cope. The world may have forgotten that she had a nephew, but he would never forget. He makes it a point to bring Aunt May flowers. No matter the weather or the bad guy of the day, Aunt May was always the most important. As he changes the aged flowers for fresh ones, he often wonders what she would say to him. She always knew what to say.
—
It all happened so quickly, Peter barely registers the ache of the bullet piercing into him.
The important thing was that Jean Grey was safe. He fixed his mistake. At least he could die with one less regret. Now that he is older and after everything he has been through. Death no longer scared him. It didn’t really matter what happened to him anyways.
It truly doesn’t matter. There was no one left who would miss him. He feels his breath catch, the air wheezing in his lungs struggling to find a rhythm. He can’t breathe.
He counts himself lucky. This wasn’t like the last time in space. Peter thinks that this time, he has lived through enough. He has been through so much pain, that if this was it, maybe he could finally feel at peace.
His eyes well up as he thinks of the people he has lost. Aunt May, Mr Stark, Happy, Ned and MJ. The list goes on. A flash of panic passes through him as he briefly wonders what he would do if Aunt May and Mr Stark didn’t remember him in the afterlife. He doesn’t think he could survive losing them again.
His vision was blurring but he could make out the auburn of Jean Grey’s hair and her lips making a sound that never quite reaches his ears.
Maybe all spiderman’s were just made to lose. He thinks of Spiderman 1 and 2. He wonders how they ever got to be so brave. Losing Aunt May, Uncle Ben and Gwen, the loss suffocates him.
He briefly registers something warm encasing him at one point. Something familiar.
“M…Mr Stark?” Peter murmurs, the name softly passing through his lips. Glimpses of dark hair and furrowed brows catching his eyes. It was the rough hands, it was the same kind of sturdiness he feels when Tony hugs him…
He hears the man shouting, it even kinda sounded like Tony. But it has been so long… Peter could barely remember what he sounded like.
Please… he wishes. All he ever wanted was to see them again. He just wanted to be with Aunt May and Mr Stark.
He squints his eyes looking again just to be sure. The man was barking out orders, his grip on Peter tightening as he walks towards the exit. Mr Stark came back for him. He’s here making sure Peter was safe. For the first time, in a long while, Peter feels himself relaxing, letting his muscle untense as he moulds himself into Tony’s arms. He listens to the man’s heaved breaths, letting it ground him back to the present.
He glances back at Jean, feeling her enter his mind with ease. They were going to be okay. Now that Mr Stark was here, everything could be solved. He couldn’t help but give a small smile as he slips into the darkness. The darkness was always forgiving after all.