Chapter Text
The sunrise over the city skyline was beautiful.
Peter scrubbed the back of his hand across the dried blood on his chin and took a steadying breath. His ribs twinged, and his breath caught.
It always sucked how beautiful the sunrise was, after a night like he’d had. He was getting a view few people got. He had his back up against Lady Liberty’s foot, arms wrapped around his knees as he just watched the day begin. There was a ferry pushing off from Battery Park, and Peter just knew it was the staff boat coming to the little island he was on.
He wasn’t fully sure how he was getting off the island, truthfully. Maybe he could jump across the bay to the Jersey side.
Or, perhaps he could wait for the boat to get halfway between, and he could use it as a launching point.
Getting off the island wasn’t the problem. Peter wasn’t sure what he was going to do in general.
Dr. Strange had gone home already. Peter had watched him portal away, looking slightly dazed once the spell was complete, so Peter couldn't even ask him what he was supposed to do now. He'd have to introduce himself all over again. Explain everything.
Peter really didn't want to do that. There was no way to explain to him, ‘by the way, we met when Tony and I saved your life on the donut ship going to Titan.’
How was Peter going to handle this? He needed to go get his stuff before it disappeared on him. Happy’s apartment was leveled. All his stuff was in that apartment. The residents were gonna go through the recovered belongings, and no one would know who his stuff belonged to.
Would they just throw it out?
He could go back to his and May’s apartment, but they’d not left much there in the first place.
Footsteps somewhere behind him made Peter curl further in on himself. The ferry hadn’t made it to the island yet, so he had no clue who it could possibly be.
Unless a staff member had been present the entire time…
Peter didn’t even look down until the person walked all the way around the statue, then stood right below Peter.
He blinked a few times as he stared down at Happy Hogan.
Even Happy wouldn’t remember him.
He… hadn’t warned Happy about this. He hadn’t even thought about Happy before Strange did it.
How could he have not thought about Happy?
Happy, who held off the police for him. Who yelled at him to ‘Run!!’ after Peter had gotten the woman he loved killed.
Who had taken them in when all this went crazy. Slept on the couch just so he and May could be comfortable.
Happy had always been there for him… and he hadn’t even thought to say goodbye.
A tear slipped down his cheek as he thought bitterly, It’s not like it mattered.
Happy wouldn’t remember the goodbye, anyway.
“Kid,” Happy shouted up.
Peter furrowed his brow and looked back down at Happy.
Happy shot him an exasperated look. “Come on, kid. Don’t make me come up there. I’m too old for that.”
“Happy?” Peter croaked.
“What do you mean ‘Happy?’” he asked impatiently. “Yes, it’s Happy. Do we need to do the prove it thing? Is this gonna be our thing now? Remember, in Germany, the pay-per-view?”
“Happy,” Peter repeated. He—he—
There were no thoughts in his head.
How was Happy there? How did he remember?
Peter didn’t understand.
Stephen said…
“Peter. Kid,” Happy said, his voice more gentle than Peter had ever heard. “Get down here before the Park Rangers see you bleeding all over the lady’s foot.”
Peter’s chin wobbled, so he forced himself to take a deep breath and stand up. He looked around and saw the staff boat making a stopover on Ellis Island first.
So no one was there to see his face, quite yet.
He leapt off the statue’s base and landed right in front of Happy.
Happy didn’t even flinch. He just frowned at Peter.
Then engulfed Peter in the biggest hug he’d ever had.
Peter was crying before he even got his arms up around Happy’s back.
“Oh, kid,” Happy said softly. “I’m so sorry, kid. I’m so damn sorry.”
Peter pressed his face into Happy's shoulder, and whatever he'd been holding back since May died finally broke.
He sobbed against Happy's jacket, gripping the back of it in both hands.
Happy just held him tighter.
"I've got you," he murmured. "I've got you, kid."
“I don’t understand,” Peter said, voice shaking. “I don’t. Happy?”
Happy stilled, and gently placed his hands on Peter’s shoulders and pushed him back. Frantic eyes ran up and down Peter’s body, like he was searching for something. “Did you hit your head?” he asked, one of his hands flying up to Peter’s hair. He ran his fingers across Peter’s scalp, then looked at his hand.
There was no blood, but Peter shook his head anyway.
“Your pupils look fine,” Happy said, “but I can take you up to the compound. They still have a doctor on call up there, they’ve got your file. We should probably do that, anyway.”
“No,” Peter said thickly, shaking his head harder. “I meant, how do you remember?”
Happy frowned. “Remember what?”
“Me,” Peter said, his face fracturing. “How do you remember me?”
“Pete, what kind of question is that?” Happy asked. His eyebrows pinched together, and he looked searchingly at Peter. “How could I forget you? You—you’re Peter. You’re the kid.”
“Dr. Strange—” Peter took a deep breath and swallowed back the intense desire to start crying all over again. “Stephen. He did a spell. I thought he erased me from everyone’s memories. He said he was going to…”
“Why on Earth would he do that?” Happy demanded. Anger flashed across his face as his hands tightened slightly on Peter’s shoulders.
"It was the only way," Peter whispered. "The multiverse was imploding. It was—it was bringing everyone here who knew I was Spider-Man. Everyone. So... so everyone had to forget who Peter Parker was."
Happy shook his head adamantly. “No,” he snapped. ‘There’s no way that was the only way. Do I need to go punch a wizard in the face? I will go punch a wizard in the face. I used to be a boxer, you know.”
Something warm blossomed in Peter’s chest. It was so tiny, but it wasn’t until he felt that that he realized how cold he’d been before.
How empty.
“You really remember me?” he whispered, looking up at Happy with wide, watering eyes.
Happy reached up and brushed his falling bangs back out of his face. “Yeah, Pete. Tony made me babysit you for years. You’ve been living with me for months. How could I forget? You know how much sleep I’ve lost out on because of you?”
“What—what’s my last name?” Peter asked, his voice shaking.
“Parker,” Happy replied instantly.
Peter blinked. “What about… what’s my middle name?”
“Benjamin. After your uncle,” Happy replied, just as quickly. He frowned and asked, ”Why are you quizzing me?”
Peter took a shaky inhale. “When is my birthday?”
“August 10th. You’re barely seventeen. That’s probably why you play with Legos in my kitchen all the time.”
“Lego is for people up to age 99,” Peter said. “Says so on the box.”
“You’ve said that exact thing to me probably a dozen times. Every time I walk in on you and DUM-E working on your little models.” Happy cracked a smile. “I give you a hard time, but… I’m glad to see you doing kid things, still.”
“You really remember,” Peter exhaled. He smiled, which quickly turned right back into crying.
Because Happy remembered.
Not just Spider-Man. He remembered Peter. The kid who annoyed him on a daily basis.
The kid who loved him, because he was Happy. And he was always just… there.
Somehow, against all odds, someone remembered.
“Come’re,” Happy said, wrapped his arms around Peter again and pulling him to his chest. “Of course I remember you, kid. I would never want to forget you.”
Peter clutched the back of Happy’s jacket, and just let himself be held.
It was finally sinking in that he wasn’t alone.
Twenty minutes ago… he’d thought there was nothing left on earth for him.
May was gone. Ned and MJ didn’t remember him. School wouldn’t remember him. The Avengers wouldn’t remember him…
He’d had nowhere to go.
Now… now at least he had someone to rely on.
He wasn’t sure where he’d go, exactly. But at least he knew Happy would have his back. Help him figure it out.
That was… unless. He didn’t want to help him out, now that May was…
“May,” Peter whispered, adjusting his head on Happy’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Happy rasped. “I’m so sorry, kid. We’ll… we’ll figure this out, okay?”
Peter nodded against Happy’s shoulder, then slowly let go and stood up. He wiped his eyes dry with the sleeve of his suit. “Did you get arrested?” he asked quietly. He remembered the cops throwing Happy against a police cruiser, when he fan…
“Briefly,” Happy said, frowning. “They released me a little while ago. Said they weren’t sure why I was there…” Realization dawned on him, as his words got slower. Finally, he just blinked. “Huh.”
“Because of the memory wipe,” Peter said with a shrug.
So it wasn’t just a failed spell.
Everyone really had forgotten.
Except Happy, somehow…
Peter knew better than to hope MJ and Ned got excluded, somehow. Had they, Peter knew they would have been there already.
Just like Happy was.
“Huh,” Happy said again, sounding a million miles away. He shook his head, then looked down at Peter. “Come on, kid. Let’s get out of here. I’ve got a flight suit around the corner.”
“Yeah,” Peter agreed easily. “Where are we going?”
“First, to see a wizard,” Happy said. “Then, I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. I’ve got you, kid.”
Peter took a deep breath, and let the tension seep out of his body when he exhaled. He took a step forward, but his knee immediately gave out, and he stumbled.
Happy’s hand caught him in an instant, tight around his upper arm as he kept Peter on his feet.
“Careful, kid,” he exclaimed. He pulled Peter back by the arm and asked, “Where are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Peter mumbled. “Just tired.” His muscles felt like jelly, more than anything.
“Uh huh, sure,” Happy said, looking completely unconvinced. “New plan: You need food and sleep. We’ll go bother the wizard later.”
“But,” Peter protested, but he snapped his mouth shut. He wasn’t even sure how to articulate his thoughts.
“What?”
Peter looked up at Happy searchingly. “What if, what if you forget once you fall asleep?”
What if the spell was just slow on Happy? And sleeping would be, like, rebooting a computer after a new update?
“Is that how the spell worked?” Happy asked. “Because that doesn’t make sense. The cops didn’t fall asleep while they were holding me.”
“I don’t… know,” Peter said slowly. “I don’t know why you remember.”
Happy considered him for a long moment, then said, “Then we’ll write everything down. If I wake up without my memories, just remind me. You’re Peter. I’m going to remember.”
Peter sighed.
“I’ll remember,” Happy promised. “Just jog my memory if you have to. I don’t want to forget you, kid.”
“Ned and MJ didn’t want to forget me either,” Peter whispered.
Happy ran a hand down his face, then just stared at Peter for a long moment. He lifted one finger, as he looked absolutely lost in thought. Suddenly, he pulled his phone out and started tapping furiously at the screen. An almost desperate expression took over his face, while something loaded.
Peter leaned forward so he could look at the screen.
Then he blinked when he saw what loaded.
“That's—“
“Yeah,” Happy said, a large grin stretching across his face. “FRIDAY remembers you. There’s your profile right there in the SI database.”
“Whoa,” Peter breathed.
“Your picture is weird,” Happy said, squinting down at his screen. “It’s almost like there was a smudge on the lens. Everything is clear except your face.”
Peter blinked at the photo, then furrowed his brow.
So… pictures of him still existed? His name in a database still existed…
So did his, like, birth certificate still exist?
What about all the articles about who he was? Those were probably gone, right?
“I’ll keep this open,” Happy promised. “So if I forget, just tell me to look at this. Anyone I’ve printed fourteen badges for is someone important.”
“There hasn’t been fourteen,” Peter protested.
Happy rolled his eyes as he pointed at one of the boxes on his file.
Sure enough, it stated he’d been issued fourteen different badges…
“To be fair, I was fifteen for most of those,” Peter said sheepishly.
“Yeah, because that’s so different from seventeen,” Happy said, rolling his eyes fondly. “Come on. You need sleep. Doesn’t your healing require food and sleep?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright then.” Happy threw an arm around Peter’s shoulders, and slowly led him away. “Food, then sleep, then wizard. Do you want to get a hotel, or just go to SI?”
“Uh, SI,” Peter mumbled. “Can I just sleep in your office?”
That would be far more familiar than a random hotel room…
“Course,” Happy said. “Sleeping on my couch is kind of your thing.”
Peter leaned his head sideways onto Happy’s shoulder, and just let himself be led away.
He was so damn glad Happy remembered.
- - -
An hour later, Peter found himself following Happy into Stark Industries after they’d had a few breakfast sandwiches.
Happy had brought a change of clothes with him for Peter, and Peter was trying his best not to think about where he'd gotten them. A Metallica T-shirt with ridiculously expensive sweatpants.
He was fairly certain they were Tony's.
And Peter did not have the capacity to think about that.
“Mr. Hogan,” the security guard said as he stepped aside.
“We’re going up to my office. Pretend I’m not here for now,” Happy said, as he motioned for Peter to just follow him through.
Various employees eyed him, but no one tried to talk to Peter.
By the time they reached Happy’s office, exhaustion had set in, and Peter was ready to collapse and sleep for a solid 20 hours.
Peter sat down on the couch heavily, and rubbed a hand across his forehead as he turned sideways and lay back.
Happy went over to a closet and pulled out a pillow and blanket, and brought them over.
“Why do you even have this?” Peter mumbled, as he accepted both and made himself comfortable.
“I’ve slept here way too many times,” Happy said with a wry smile.
“Thanks, Happy,” Peter whispered.
“Get some sleep, Pete,” Happy said. “I’m gonna go get the name of a real estate agent or something. Tell FRIDAY if you need me.”
Peter nodded and shut his eyes.
Sleep… did not find him.
He tossed and turned for quite a while. Life continued on outside Happy’s office. Workers continued on, like the world hadn’t just ended last night.
Then he heard Happy chatting with a few of his employees.
“Hogan? What are you doing here?” a man Peter didn’t recognize said. “Take the day off.”
“Take the week off,” a woman said.
“I’m fine,” Happy replied gruffly.
“No you aren’t,” the man said. “No one would be. Your apartment, and May…”
There was a brief silence before Happy sighed.
“Yeah, well. I’ve got her kid here with me, so tell everyone to pretend I’m not here. How’s that? Kid’s asleep in my office.”
“I didn’t realize she had a kid,” yet another employee said. Was there a crowd out there?
Peter took a steadying breath.
24 hours ago, everyone had known he existed.
“Yeah,” Happy said. “He’s been living with me for months.”
“Oh no,” the first woman said, sounding genuinely upset. “Is he okay? Do you need anything?”
“We’re fine,” Happy replied.
“Your apartment collapsed,” one of the men said.
“Yeah,” the woman agreed. “Does he have clothes? Toiletries? Uh, school supplies? How old is he?”
“He’s seventeen,” Happy said. He was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “Yeah. He could use clothes. Men’s medium, shoe size eight and a half.”
“I’ll go out and get it,” the woman said.
“Here, put it on this card,” Happy said.
“No, no,” she replied. “We’re doing a collection.”
“What? No,” Happy protested. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Happy,” the woman said gently. “Your apartment collapsed.”
One of the men chimed in with, “And May… Just let us do something.”
Happy was quiet for a long moment, then sighed.
“Fine. Get Peter a gift or something, but buy his essentials with my card.”
“What sort of things does he like?” one of them asked.
“He’s obsessed with Legos,” Happy said. “And Star Wars. Oh, for his clothes, he likes the Mets, and those science joke shirts, and hoodies. Nike shoes.”
“Sounds like a teenager to me,” the man said.
“Yeah,” Happy said with an amused huff. “He’s a good kid. Didn’t deserve any of this.”
The group was quiet for a moment, then the woman asked quietly, “Will you have custody of him now?”
“Yeah,” Happy said. “May named me guardian in her will.”
Time felt like it froze.
May had done what?
“Happy, go lay down,” the man said. “Take a break.”
“There’s too much to do,” Happy sighed.
“No, not right now,” the woman said, and Peter could hear them walking toward his office. “Let us handle all this. You go get some rest.”
The door opened a moment later, and Peter looked up to see Happy walk in.
He looked absolutely exhausted.
“Kid,” Happy sighed. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”
“I’m too wired,” Peter admitted.
Happy nodded once. He dragged one of the office chairs over beside the couch and lowered himself into it with a grunt.
Peter looked over at him and asked, “You’re taking custody of me?”
“Obviously,” Happy said, furrowing his brow. He pointed at the closed office door and asked, “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah,” Peter said with a shrug. “I can’t help it.”
“I know,” Happy sighed. “So, yeah. I’m getting an apartment with at least two bedrooms this time.”
“Why?” Peter asked. Why had May done that? When had she done that?
“What do you mean, why? Where else would you go?” Happy asked, sounding genuinely confused. “Your home’s with me.”
“Oh,” Peter whispered, as he collapsed back into the pillow. He squeezed his eyes shut as fresh tears slipped free.
“I thought,” Peter whispered, as he looked back over at Happy. He swallowed, then pressed on. “I thought you were just… I don’t know. Putting up with me.”
Happy snorted softly. “There’s not many people I drop everything to fly to the Netherlands for, kid.”
Peter let out a shaky breath. "I'm glad you remember me," he whispered.
Happy was quiet for a moment. "Yeah," he said softly. "Me too, kid. Me too." He reached over and gave Peter's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Now close your eyes. Sleep.”
This time, Peter did.
- - -
Peter woke hours later to Happy letting someone into the office. Peter stretched and opened his eyes to see one of Happy’s employees coming inside with a handful of shopping bags.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she whispered to Peter when she saw him stirring. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s fine,” Peter grunted, as he sat up. He started stretching his back as he watched her set everything down on the floor around Happy’s desk.
There were already a handful of bags there…
“I was going to wake him for lunch, anyway,” Happy said.
“That’s everything. Let me know if you need anything,” The woman said. She turned to Peter and said, “And it’s nice to meet you, Peter. If you need anything, just ask FRIDAY to send Martie, that’s me, a message.”
Peter smiled and said, “Thanks, Martie. I appreciate it.”
“Yes, thank you, Martie,” Happy said, as he ushered her back out.
Happy picked up the bag of food and said, “Food. Come eat, kid.”
Peter huffed a quiet laugh and pushed himself to his feet. He looked down at the dozens of shopping bags on the ground as he stepped around them to sit at one of the chairs facing Happy’s desk.
“They found out there’s a kid to buy for and went nuts,” Happy mumbled as he pulled a couple boxes of Italian food out. “Pick which one you want. I like both.”
Peter opened both takeout boxes and chose the spaghetti and meatballs. He pushed the chicken parmesan across the desk to where Happy sat down.
He looked back down at all the bags, from all different stores, and frowned. “I’m not really a kid. I turn eighteen in, like, ten months.” It wasn’t like he was seven.
“Oh yeah, you’re right,” Happy said dryly. “That’s why we famously call them college adults.”
Peter grinned slightly as he took a bite of his food. His smile faded quickly.
College.
“What am I gonna do about school?” he asked, dropping his fork into his box. He sighed. “I guess I could get a GED?” If he got one of those, maybe he could even start college in the spring.
It just wouldn’t be MIT. With Ned and MJ.
How was he going to pay for it, anyway?
“Do you think the college fund Tony set up for me still exists?” he asked, looking up at Happy.
Happy finished chewing his food, then took a sip of his soda. Finally, he said, “If it doesn’t, I’ll just pay for your tuition.” Then he took another bite of food.
Like he hadn’t just said something insane.
“What?” Peter asked. He hadn't been fishing for that. That wasn't what he'd wanted.
“Kid,” Happy sighed. “Stop saying that when I say super basic stuff, alright? I’ve got custody of you. I’m gonna do the basic taking-care-of-you stuff. Stop doubting it.”
“Paying for my college isn’t basic-taking-care-of-me stuff,” Peter exclaimed.
Happy just shrugged. “When you have as much money as I do, yes it is.” He took a sip of his drink, then said, “Anyway. You’re still enrolled in school.”
Peter snapped his attention up. “What?” How was that even going to work?
“Yeah. I called to excuse you, test the waters. The receptionist said she didn’t recognize the name, but then your file pulled right up, and she said you’re excused for the week.”
“The week?” Peter asked.
“Yeah. She said the school would work with you if you needed more time than that, and you’d get all your missed assignments when you return.”
Peter just blinked for a few seconds. “But… they don’t even remember me.”
“Well, the computer does,” Happy said with another shrug. “I told them about May, and the change in custody. I was already in your file, so she didn’t even question me.”
“Wow,” Peter breathed.
Happy nodded as he chewed on another bite of pasta. “Also, I hired someone to handle the funeral arrangements. If you have any requests for how it’s done, just let me know. Do you want her buried next to Ben?”
Peter just blinked at him, staring.
All he could think about was, ‘How was Happy so functional?’
How had he done, like, fifty things that morning? When Peter had just taken a nap?
Peter hadn’t even been able to convince himself to get up and get off the Statue of Liberty and Happy…
“You don’t have to think about it if you don’t want to,” Happy said gently. “I want you to have as much say in this as you want, but we only have a day or so to make the decisions.”
“Uh,” Peter stammered, as he actually tried to think about it. “Are you okay with her next to Ben?”
Wasn’t it… weird? To bury your girlfriend next to her late husband…
“Yeah, Pete,” Happy said softly. “He was the love of her life. I’m not dumb.”
“Oh, okay,” Peter whispered. He nodded and felt his jaw start to tremble, so he took a deep breath and tried to rein it all back in. “I’d like to keep them together.”
“That’s fine,” Happy said easily. “I told the planner that would probably be the case. It’s probably what she would want, too.”
Peter nodded. “They were my parents, you know?” he whispered. “I know they weren’t, but—”
“—but they were,” Happy said. “I get it, kid. I’m sorry.”
Peter swallowed thickly and looked down at his food before stabbing his fork into the noodles.
Happy cleared his throat, then said, “Tomorrow we’ve got a few apartments to go tour.”
“Already?” Peter asked absently, as he twirled his fork around.
“Yep. Are you okay staying in Manhattan, or should we look in Queens, too?”
Peter furrowed his brow. “Wouldn’t that be too far a commute for you?”
Happy merely shrugged.
He didn’t want Happy to uproot his entire life over Peter.
Yeah, obviously he needed a new apartment, but…
They didn’t have to move to Queens just because Peter liked it better.
Because, yeah, he liked Queens better, but he’d been living in Manhattan for months.
It was fine.
“Manhattan is fine,” Peter mumbled. “My school’s here, anyway.”
With a nod, Happy said, “Yeah, makes sense. Pepper offered the penthouse here, but…”
“No,” Peter said instantly. He could see his exact thoughts echoed back on Happy’s face.
There was no way Peter could live with the ghost of Tony.
Wearing his clothes was already hard enough.
“Yeah,” Happy agreed. “The agent sent me a few promising options by Central Park. All three bedrooms with at least two full baths.”
“Three bedrooms?” Peter questioned. Happy’s old apartment had had one bedroom.
“Yeah. I’m never gonna have no guest room again,” Happy said. “One of the apartments has two floors to it, and a massive balcony. I think you’ll like that one the best.”
“So I can sneak out?” Peter said with a smirk. He poked at his food a little more and took another bite.
Happy rolled his eyes. “Don’t get caught climbing out our windows.”
“Don’t worry,” Peter said, through a mouthful of food. “I was doing a good job at keeping my identity secret. It’s Nick Fury’s fault Mysterio even knew.”
“Who apparently wasn’t even the real Fury,” Happy grumbled. He shook his head, then said, “We’re keeping your name away from all of that this time. The Avengers aren’t even gonna know. Need-to-know only.”
Peter nodded enthusiastically. That was fine with him.
He never wanted to be known worldwide ever again.
And he could do without being blackmailed or kidnapped and forced into SHIELD missions.
“I think all of this is for you,” Happy said, gesturing at the bags all over the place. His face fell into the grumpy expression Peter was used to seeing, as he grumbled, “They didn’t charge my card at all. So we’ll have to thank the entire Stark Industries staff somehow. One of the people who dropped this off works in R&D, so it got outside my division somehow.”
Peter blinked and looked back down at all the bags around him.
They weren’t from, like, Walmart, either. They were from at least a dozen different stores. Peter leaned over and grabbed the first one he could reach, a GAP bag, and looked inside.
There were two pairs of jeans and a sweater. All brand new. No clearance tags.
“But…” Peter said slowly, as he pulled the sweater out. It was dark blue, and was exactly something he would have picked for himself. He looked up at Happy and had to blink the tears out of his eyes. “They don’t even know who I am.”
“You’re still part of Stark Industries,” Happy said with a shrug. “Calling a workplace a family is cliché, but…” Happy gestured at the bags again.
“Wow.”
“Finish eating, kid,” Happy said. “Then pick something to wear, and we’ll go see the wizard.”
Peter nodded, and just did as he was told.
There was something nice about not needing to worry about anything, because someone else had handled everything.
Especially after the week he’d just had.
- - -
Peter wasn’t sure what he was expecting when they showed up at 177A Bleecker Street.
He probably should have expected Strange to be just as standoffish as he always was, though.
Apparently he wasn’t like that just because Peter was annoying him. That was just him.
“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Strange said flatly, after Happy accused him of erasing Peter from everyone’s memory.
“Really?” Happy huffed, “You have no clue at all? You ruined my kid’s life less than twelve hours ago, and you know nothing?”
“Happy,” Peter said tiredly.
Strange turned his attention to Peter and asked, “So am I to understand you’re involved in this Spider-Man nonsense, then?”
“What do you remember about the,” Peter made air quotes, “‘Spider-Man nonsense.’”
“Frustratingly little,” Strange huffed. “I know the multiverse was collapsing, and I performed a spell to correct it, but I do not remember what spell I did, nor what the solution had been. Is your attack dog here correct? Did I wipe everyone’s memories of you?”
“Yeah,” Peter said. He looked up at Happy, then back to Strange and said, “I am Spider-Man.”
“I figured,” Strange said gruffly. He motioned with his head for them to follow, and the second all three of them took a step, they were suddenly in a different room.
Happy stumbled and spun around frantically. Peter just kept following Strange.
“I do remember you in space,” Strange said. “But my memories are corrupted. I can’t place your face, even though I know I had seen it. And I don’t remember hardly anything you said.” He turned to Peter and gave him a critical look. “That is very unlike me. Not remembering clearly.”
“Well, I didn’t cast the spell,” Peter said dryly.
Strange rolled his eyes, but grabbed a giant book off a shelf and thumbed through it. “This here is likely what I used.” He turned on Peter and asked, “But how old are you, kid?”
“Um, seventeen,” Peter admitted.
“Did I know that?” he asked. “Was I aware?”
“Yeah,” Peter said slowly. “Uh, okay, so a bad guy revealed my identity to the entire world as Spider-Man, and it was ruining my college applications because, like, lots of people were accusing me of murdering a bad guy who was shot by his own stupid drone, so the college said they didn’t want the controversy there. So they rejected my friends, too, and…”
“And I performed a memory spell to help you get into college? By erasing you from everyone’s memory?”
“No,” Peter said. “Uh. We tried just making people forget I was Spider-Man, but I messed it up by distracting you too much. I kept adding people I wanted to be exempted, and it broke the multiverse.”
Strange sighed deeply.
“So, to fix that, you had to erase Peter Parker from everyone’s memory in the entire universe, so the multiverse would stop pulling people here who knew I was Spider-Man. Uh, it was a mess.”
“Apparently,” Strange sighed. He pointed at Happy and asked, “So who is this? Why is he being your bodyguard if no one remembers you?”
“That’s why we’re here,” Happy said brusquely.
“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “He, uh, never forgot. We wanna know why.”
Strange nodded thoughtfully. “So who is he to you?”
“Uh,” Peter stammered.
Happy looked to him, but Peter just stared up at him blankly.
How was he even supposed to explain Happy?
“He’s my girlfriend’s kid,” Happy said with a shrug. Then he made a face. “But also I’ve been kind of his bodyguard for years. Tony assigned me to him when he was fourteen.”
“Yeah. He, like, oversaw me being Spider-Man or something,” Peter said. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Your mother, does she remember?” Strange asked.
Peter’s face went tight, but thankfully Happy spoke up for him.
“His aunt. She passed last night, during the fight.”
Strange’s face fell for a fraction of a second, before he quickly schooled it. “Then, am I correct to assume you’d be his guardian?”
“Yeah,” Happy said easily.
“Hmm,” Strange said as he flipped through the book. “Well. Looks like I managed to exempt the adult who is responsible for you,” he said to Peter. “Since you’re still a minor.”
“But,” Peter said slowly. “You told me everyone would forget, even you. I was going to be completely alone.”
“I don’t like to promise things I can’t guarantee. Exempting Mr. Hogan here was a major change to the spell. I don’t like making changes to spells.”
“If you knew who I was, why did you ask?” Happy asked, narrowing his eyes.
“I was asking who you were to Peter,” Strange snapped.
“Mr—I mean, Dr. Strange, sir—”
“Stephen, kid,” Strange said.
Peter laughed, and for some reason, it felt like a little weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “Is this permanent?” he asked. “Will Happy forget me at a later time?”
“Yes, it’s permanent. No, he won’t forget,” Stephen said.
“What about everyone else?” Happy asked. “Is this reversible? Can we unlock the memories in people who knew him well?”
“No,” Stephen said. “The memories are gone. However, look at me. I remember you as Spider-Man, I just don’t remember you as Peter.”
Peter nodded slowly. “So, my best friends are going to have some memories of me.”
“If they knew you as Spider-Man, yes,” Stephen said.
“We can work with that,” Happy said. “Right, kid?”
“Yeah,” Peter exhaled.
That was at least something.
“Um,” Peter said before they left. “Thanks for exempting Happy.”
Stephen nodded once and said, “Take care of yourself, kid. And don’t come asking me for more spells.”
Peter grinned. “Don’t worry, I’m tired of magic.”
He turned to Happy, and in that instant, the two of them were standing out on the street outside the Sanctum.
“What the heck was that?” Happy exclaimed.
Peter laughed. “That’s just what he does.” He smiled up at Happy for a moment.
Then, almost without thinking about it, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Happy. “Thanks, Hap,” he whispered.
Happy seemed surprised for half a second, but his arms came around Peter automatically.
“Yeah, of course, kid,” he said softly. “We’re gonna be okay.
Peter nodded against his shoulder. “I’m really glad you remember me.”
Happy rested his head down on top of Peter's and nodded. “Me too, Pete. Me too.”