Chapter Text
Peter felt sick.
He wasn’t ill, he hadn’t experienced that since the spider bite.
This was different. It was an ever consuming sickness that spread across his whole body inexplicably.
It was the same sort of sickness he felt when he saw Tony die, the same one that mixed with grief, rage and self hate after he lost May too.
Today he felt it for a different reason.
Peter had been doing his usual route, swinging from building to building when he decided to stop on some roof to take a break.
He’d been taking more of those than he’d like to lately.
This time, it was because his web shooters seemed a bit off. They weren’t as exact as usual, something seemed off. He just needed a bit of time to tinker.
Peter also knew that was partly an excuse. He felt weak at the moment, he knew if he continued swinging at that moment, something would go wrong. Maybe he’d swing face first into a building or pass out mid swing. He didn’t know, and didn’t want to risk it.
Ever since erasing his existence, Peter had been hungry.
Due to his lack of documents, including for school, finding a proper job proved to be difficult.
More often than not he’d pick up casual gigs. Delivery, walking dogs, library assistant, anything he could get. As a result, he didn’t get much money from it.
Hunger had become a constant as most of his paycheck went into rent for his shitty apartment.
But that was not here nor there.
Here Peter stood on the roof, trying to catch his breath when he spotted a young boy by the ledge.
His heart rate immediately spiked, but Peter took a slow, heavy step forward. He didn’t want to startle the kid.
The young boy turned to face Peter, he couldn’t be older than fourteen.
In the light of day it wasn’t hard to make out any details. The kid had dark, curly hair. Eyebags sat heavy on his face, paired with a pale complexion. He barely even reacted to Peter.
God, the kid looked so tired.
“Hey, Buddy. You mind stepping away from that ledge?” he did his best to hide his fear, but some shakiness slipped into his voice anyways.
The kid didn’t respond, he simply took a step towards the ledge once more.
Peter took a step forward in return, wanting the least space possible between him and the kid. “Please, kid. I won’t pretend to know what’s going on, but can we please talk?”
The boy stared at him for a moment before finally opening his mouth. “What would be the point?” His voice was quiet, small.
Peter… Didn’t have a response for that.
He didn’t usually deal with jumpers. More often than not, he’d be across town helping someone else when it happened. Or, the jumper was older and easier to talk to.
This kid? It was a miracle he even replied to Peter. He seemed so detached, so gone.
“The point is to find something to look forward to. It won’t be easy, alright? But I promise the moment you do, it will be worth it.”
“...I’m tired, Spider-Man. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
Peter felt his heart break.
The kid had barely even lived yet, it ached to see someone so young facing a pain too big for them to carry.
“Please, kid, step away from the ledge.”
He gave Peter an empty look before stepping back, allowing himself to free fall.
Peter immediately rushed across the roof, aiming his webs to wrap around the kid, only for nothing to come out.
He only managed to feel a split second of panic before the thump of a body against cold hard cement was heard.
The walk home was automatic, Peter barely processed the buildings passing by or the screams of sirens across the city.
At some point he’d changed out of the suit, he didn’t know when.
Now he laid down on the shitty carpet of his apartment, stomach up.
His mind played the memory on loop. The kid's face before he fell, the sickening crunch once he hit the pavement.
God, Peter hadn’t even learned the kids name. He never got to learn his story, or how he got there.
All Peter knew was that a kid died because Peter couldn’t talk him down from it. Because his webs had failed, because Peter had become useless.
Truthfully, that was all Peter had been since everyone had forgotten him, maybe even longer. He had just refused to see it because of a selfish need to cling to something.
Now a kid was dead.
Peter had lost everything. He’d lost his family and friends so he could keep Spider-Man, so they could live without him dragging them down as he helped others.
Today proved that it had just been an illusion.
He had to be better, that was all he could do.
Maybe Spider-Man should take a break. Peter would spend some time improving his equipment, then he could go back out better than ever.
If that didn’t work, then maybe it would be his turn to leave.
But for now, Peter had to sit here, stewing in his own sorrow.
He grieved for a kid he’d never gotten to meet purely because he wasn’t fast enough.
He grieved because it reminded him of those he’d already lost.
Peter has been doing his best to keep it buried, but thoughts of those he lost always bubbled back up.
Tony, May, fuck even the ones who weren’t dead. He grieved MJ, and Ned, even Happy.
He grieved the relationships he’d lost, the ones he’d never be able to grow again.
He couldn’t help it, Peter pulled out his phone.
Pulling up instagram, he searched up Ned’s user. One he’d memorized ages ago.
He’d long since learned there was no point in looking at MJ’s profile, she never uploaded.
But Ned? There was always something going on in his.
Today a new post had been uploaded. A video of him and MJ showing their new apartment, they came back to New York.
Fuck.
They looked so happy, while Peter was here sitting in the floor of his sad, shitty apartment looking at pictures of people who didn’t even know him anymore like a desperate ex.
Just looking at the pictures felt like a black hole had formed in his chest, absorbing everything that made Peter and spitting out the bones.
God, he couldn’t do this. Maybe taking a break for a bit really was the best idea.
His heart ached at the thought of everyone who’ll be in danger without someone to watch over them.
…maybe he could ask Frank for a favor?
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Frank had neither seen or heard from the Spider kid in a while.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he was starting to get worried.
Sure, Frank was always talking about how the kid needed to take more breaks. He might’ve just been saying it to get him off his back, but Frank had never expected the kid to actually follow through with it.
The kid had called ahead, Frank knew that. He’d asked him of all people to look after queens and the rest of New York while Spider-Man took a break.
Though, judging by how shaky the kids voice had sounded when he’d called Frank, he doubted it was for simple reasons.
New York felt so much emptier without it, as if its spark was missing.
He knew he wasn’t the only one that had noticed.
Pretty much the whole city was talking about their favorite vigilantes' absence.
There were vlogs, articles, and even the spidey tracker app had information on his disappearance.
Frank knew he could call at any time; the kid had given him a number he was pretty sure was a burner.
Yet, he felt hesitant to. If he did, it would be admitting he cared for the kid.
But at the moment? He didn’t really know if that mattered anymore.
If he learned the kid had been laying dead in a ditch for months, and that nobody had noticed simply because Frank hadn’t given a call he would never forgive himself.
He picked up his phone, scrolling through his contacts (Though there were few) before finally landing on “Spider-Kid.”
Pressing call, he didn’t have to wait for longer than a minute before the kid picked up.
“...Hi?”
“So you are alive.”
“Frank!? Why’re you calling me, is something wrong? Do you need my help? I can go out just give me a minute—”
“Kid, stop, breathe. Just wanted to make sure you’re alive. You’ve been gone for quite a while.”
“Awh, you do have a heart.” Frank wanted to hang up, immediately. Who did this kid think he was, worming his way into Frank's life?
“So, kid, where have you been? The whole of New York thinks you’re dead.”
“Frank, I told you I was taking a break.” The kid replied, voice filled with a mix of attitude and a hint of tiredness.
“I get that, kid. But it’s been a month. Longest break I’ve ever seen you take before was a week at most, and that’s pushing it.”
“…Just, I’ve been thinking a lot I guess. But you’re right, maybe it’s time for me to go back out in the field. Thanks for checking in.”
Before Frank could get another word in, the kid hung up. God damned teenagers nowadays.
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Frank’s call had left him the slightest bit on edge.
Had Peter truly been gone for that long?
He hadn’t really been keeping track of any date in a while. The most he knew was the days of the week, and that was because of his jobs.
Holidays he didn’t even celebrate anymore were kept track of via ads and coworkers.
When Peter had decided to take a break, he hadn’t really expected it to last so long.
If he had to estimate, it had been around a month? He couldn’t be sure, but Frank was right. He’d left his people alone for way too long.
It wasn’t that Frank wasn’t a great protector, he just lacked the friendly part that made up so much of Peter’s brand.
Though Peter knew that if he went out any earlier than now, he wouldn’t have been able to bring himself to be friendly.
A grief he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a while had overtaken him.
His days consisted of constant distractions to keep his mind off of the kid, his death. The death of everyone he’d ever loved and the loss of those who remained.
Distractions came mainly via quick gigs and upgrading his suit.
There wasn’t exactly much he could do with his limited technology, but Peter had been doing his best with what he had.
Which was mostly what he’d gotten from dumpster diving and admittedly shop lifting if it got too tight.
He still did his best to visit May’s grave.
It didn’t matter how hollow he might’ve felt, May deserved respect. She deserved for someone to remember her, even if it was a nobody like Peter.
Sometimes he’d spot Happy leaving flowers. Those were the days he’d simply watch from a distance.
Peter didn’t think he could handle approaching the man, much less a conversation.
Now enough time had gone by that those feelings were on the back burner. And now that Frank had brought up that he was way overdue for a return, Peter started feeling restless.
He’d made a few adjustments to the suit, counting changing the spider logo and deepening some colors.
They weren’t necessary changes, but Peter couldn’t look at it without being reminded of his failure anymore.
(A small part of him knew the kid hadn’t been so monumental, it had just been what pushed the last domino down until they all fell.)
Still, he needed a change in costume, no matter how simple. It made him feel better, that was all that mattered.
As Peter watched the sun set from his shitty apartment, he put the costume on.
It wasn’t often that Peter did nighttime patrols, but he felt a need for a change in pace—or in anything really.
The moment he leaped out that window, Peter felt alive.
As he swung from building to building, he melted into the rush that overcame him.
God, he’d forgotten how freeing this actually was. How could’ve he gone so long without even touching his suit?
There wasn’t any crime being radio’d in by the police yet, meaning it was hopefully going to be a slow night.
He swung through a few different neighborhoods, smiling internally at the amount of people trying to take pictures of him.
They seemed so surprised at seeing Spider-Man out. Had he really been gone that long?
He also kept getting notifications from the Spidey-Tracker.
Peter didn’t even know why he had the app, he was pretty sure he knew where he was. Maybe because it reminded him of Ned.
He shook his head. He was in patrol, it wasn’t the time for Peter to have those thoughts again.
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In the end he only stopped a few robberies and helped lost tourists find their way back to their hotels.
It was simple work, but Peter felt a warmth bloom all across him after helping people.
It brought him a sort of relief he didn’t know if he could live without.
Thankfully he only sustained a punch or two from a pick-pocket, so there weren't any major injuries to deal with.
Once he arrived in his apartment, all that dread that had drained out of him filled him up once more.
Was this all there really was to life? Survive as himself, save others as Spider-Man.
Even when he had taken some time off, Peter had felt nothing.
The most he’d done was earn more money with jobs he finally had time to do with his suddenly cleared up schedule.
Other than that? Peter didn’t feel as if he truly was a person anymore.
He knew that had been true since the moment everyone forgot about him, maybe longer. But now?
Peter felt so detached, so unanchored to this reality that no longer felt like his own.
A part of him still ached to reach out to Ned and MJ, explain what had happened. Hope that maybe, just maybe they would remember him.
But he knew it was a selfish thought.
Peter Parker was nothing if not selfish, after all.
That was why May was dead, because he felt the need to change a spell. Of course he couldn’t have just left it be, he had to be greedy.
Peter had to be greedy and now May was gone. He was alone. Peter had earned nothing from it all and May lost her life as a result anyways.
He moved on auto pilot across his apartment, heading towards his work bench.
Picking up a cardboard cutter, he twisted it in his hand.
Without truly thinking, he rolled up his shirt and pressed it into the planes of his stomach.
Peter dragged it across his skin, watching blood starting to pool at the cut.
He knew it was a bad idea, he didn’t even eat enough to help it heal fast.
Yet, the pain was so grounding. It made him feel real in a way nothing had in so long.
Most of his injuries had been actually scarring lately, meaning this one would too.
But for some reason, that thought didn’t scare Peter.
It felt sort of relieving to have a reminder of his pain. Evidence that it was real, that he had experienced it all, that everything he felt wasn’t just confined to his head.
He made two more lines before moving to clean the blade off in the sink. It felt satisfying to watch the water run red in a way.
After that he didn’t bother bandaging the wound, opting to just take a shower and head to bed for the night.