Chapter Text
As he exhaled, the first thing Peter processed was the sharp pain banging in his head.
With his eyes still closed, he didn’t register that he was conscious—but he definitely did register the brutal stabbing pain he was feeling—not just in his head, but everywhere. He felt like he’d fallen off a tall building and failed to stick the landing, feeling like he couldn’t move as everything ached.
He then felt an uncomfortable and thin cushion below him, parts of his skin coming into contact with it through his apparently ripped suit. While he still had his regular clothes on underneath, he only had a t-shirt and some jeans on, both of which were also slightly ripped—but not as severely as the suit.
It was so badly torn that it was practically unusable for anonymity—all he had left was his mask.
..
His mask that he was now realizing that he didn’t feel on his face.
This is what made him jolt up, completely disregarding the pain he’d been feeling for the few second he’d been awake—though he immediately regretted it, as he quickly winced as it felt like he’d been stabbed in the sharp motion of sitting up.
The sudden movement and the audible reaction to the pain from it made a second figure in the room also jolt up, her blue eyes widening in surprise as Peter gave her a decent scare. She jumped up from sitting down right beside him, the startle now shifting to concern.
“Hey! Holy—” She nearly yelled, but was able to calm it down to a surprised whisper. Peter immediately recognized the voice, his nerves calming down as he realized that it wasn’t a stranger—it was Jean.
“Jean? What ..” He held his head in his gloved hands, groaning as the room began to spin. The girl quickly rushed over, assessing him.
“Wait, Jean?” He repeats himself. “But you aren’t .. didn’t you leave ..?”
While he had his head in his hands, he felt the same exposed skin he’d feared, but was now not as afraid of anymore knowing he was with a trusted face—but what he also noticed were the patches on his cheek and forehead—patches that definitely weren’t there before.
“Hey, you’re okay,” She reassured him, glossing over his question. “You were pretty banged up, but I tried to patch you up the best I could .. I’m just hoping your freaky regeneration stuff does the rest,” Jean looked down at his torso, which prompted Peter to do the same—there he saw that there was a decently-sized gash in his suit that had definitely gone through and broke the skin.
Then he saw that it was also bandaged.
“What .. happened to me?” He managed to rasp out. He let Jean guide him back onto the cushion he was on, Peter not contesting as he was in too much pain to do so, anyway. “And .. where are we?”
She sighed. “Long story short, I saved your life but now we’re pretty much stranded and I don’t know where the hell we are,” She set him on his back and quickly glanced around the unknown space they were in. “Do you want to hear the whole thing now or when you can stand?”
Peter also looks around as well, and realizes he has not a single clue on where they could be. The place is dark, the only light they were getting being from the moon through the building’s broken windows and small holes in its roof—yet, there were still what looked to be personal belongings around them, though abandoned.
Peter shook his head. “Nope, you gotta tell me now, especially because now I’m nervous and I need an explanation,” he closed his eyes again, letting out a slightly painful sigh. “What do you mean we’re stranded and don’t know where the hell we are?”
Jean waits a moment, collecting her thoughts—instead of explaining everything to him, she decided she’d show him instead.
She grabbed his hand and began channeling her powers, proceeding to telepathically connect with Peter—whilst inside his mind, she began to show him her recollection of events that led up to them sitting in this abandoned warehouse.
As it turns out, she never left the city—or at least she was in the city when everything had gone down.
The D.O.D.C. was still on the hunt for Jean and trying to find a way to capture Peter without facing public scrutiny—all this to continue to cover up their inhumane experiments they put Jean and Sara through. They must’ve started grasping for straws, because somehow, Peter ended up having to fight The Hand for a third time—this time in a public street that had to be evacuated. Jean saw it on the news and immediately headed out to make it to Peter and try to help as he gradually began to struggle against them.
Peter would be able to fight them off just fine, having gained control of his evolved senses and strength—but that just wouldn’t be the case this time as they managed to stick an inhibitor chip onto him. If it were like the others, he would’ve just ripped it right off and they would be fine—but this one was different. It was specifically engineered for him, whoever having engineered it going as far as to create a secure contraption to make sure that once it’s on, it can’t come off—not without causing harm to the nerves on the back of his neck.
Jean nor Peter saw just how they got it under his mask, but this is The Hand that he was facing. He wasn’t surprised that they found a way to stick it onto him.
Because of the inhibitor chip, they overpowered him very quickly, causing Peter to begin losing the fight. When Jean was able to get to him, he was barely conscious. As the panic continued to set in, her senses started heightening, similarly to when she was in that chair—things started to get more dangerous.
She harshly pushed The Hand back with her powers, keeping them away long enough for her to get to Peter safely. Her mind wasn’t in a mode to fight, as her priorities were only on making sure Peter would be okay.
Not knowing the risks, she ripped the chip off and reduced it to metal crumbs on the floor using her powers, Peter loudly wincing in pain. Jean quickly gave him several apologies before moving on to helping him breathe and keep him conscious—all while the the assassins began to close in on them again.
Jean’s adrenaline was now spiking as she didn’t know what else she could do in the moment. In fear that she might create another psionic shockwave, she tried to keep herself in check and in focus, but her attempts were fruitless—she couldn’t even focus on keeping Peter alive, all of her senses becoming overwhelmed by the situation at hand.
All she could think in that moment was how desperately she wanted everything to stop—how she wanted them out of there.
Get us out of here right now.
Despite her being extremely powerful, that doesn’t mean that she had full control over said powers—especially not in this scenario, where she managed to discover an entirely new part of her abilities.
Jean did not know she could teleport, so Jean does not know how to teleport correctly.
Another shockwave emitted from her, though this one much more intense. It pushed everyone and everything away at a brute force, though they didn’t travel very far before they became frozen in place. It had that familiar oil spill effect the previous one did, this one spanning out much farther out than the last.
She looked down at Peter, who was still breathing but very hurt. He needed medical attention, and he needed it now.
Before Jean could figure out how to make it to a hospital to get Peter aid, she noticed that the area of effect from the shockwave was .. shrinking.
Shrinking rapidly.
Almost as if it were about to implode.
When she realized she couldn’t stop it, she shut her eyes tightly and held Peter closer to her, almost hoping that her being there would help keep him from any of the harm that would follow once the circle closed in.
However, when it did, she felt .. well, nothing.
Not saying ‘nothing’ as if she died, but rather as if nothing even happened to begin with.
While she kept her eyes closed, she could still listen. She heard as the walls of the clearing she created closed in, the final noise almost sounding like a portal closing—then to her surprise, what followed was .. well, thunder.
Then she began to feel the rain fall on her hair and shoulders, as well as hear the noises of a lively city street with the honking of cars and overlapping voices from passerby's.
When she finally opened her eyes, she found themselves in a dark alleyway in the middle of the night. She didn’t know what she had just done; initially, she thought she must’ve accidentally time traveled or her powers might’ve caused an abrupt storm to form—but that doesn’t explain the change in location.
They were just in the middle of a street, why were they in an alley?
She checked to make sure Peter was still alive—to her relief, he was still breathing and his heart was still beating. She still went and linked with him to sync their breathing again as a precaution before hooking his arm over her shoulder as she pulled the both of them up, the lift not being difficult with the help of her telekinesis.
Jean wasn’t sure where to go from here, as Peter was still in costume—he couldn’t be seen with her, not right now. She had to get them somewhere safe, discreet.
She looked around for her options; she could either walk out onto the sidewalk and hope they blend in with the crowd, or test her luck and break into one of these buildings through their side door.
She ultimately went with the latter, pulling her head up as she began to walk towards one of the doors. Her eyes naturally glanced around at their surroundings, and she noticed something very odd.
A yellow signal in the skies, the light noticeable against the storm clouds. It had the shape of a bat blocked out in the center. She had never seen this symbol before, and was curious to know where it’d come from.
She didn’t let it distract her for too long, Jean quickly resuming to the task at hand which was getting indoors. One of the doors was strangely unlocked, though she soon realized why when she opened it; the place was practically rotting away, it being entirely abandoned.
She set peter down and began to tend to his wounds, still attentive to her link to him to make sure he was breathing properly. After looking around for a miracle, she managed to find a first aid kit that had been left behind with some alcohol wipes and just enough gauze.
When she finished patching him up, she set him on an old cushion and sat down beside him, resting her eyes as she focused on calming down. After awhile, the memory led to the moment where Peter jolted awake, startling Jean.
“And now we’re here,” She concluded, Peter completely stunned.
He looked at her, dumbfounded. “Well, shit ..” he muttered. “Had no idea you could do that.”
“Yeah. Me neither,” She responded. “It was pure luck that I was able to bring you with me because I couldn’t control it. I’m scared to even try it again.”
Peter sighed, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well we have to find our way back home somehow,” He stressed.
“Yeah, no, of course,” Jean didn’t deny it. “But can that wait until morning? You look like shit and whatever the hell I did drained me entirely.”
Peter couldn’t argue with that. He agreed, closing his eyes as he lay flat on the cushion. As he tried to find some more comfort again, his mind wandered—he realized that Damage Control really was trying to kill him.
And they almost did.
He was lucky that Jean was there and intervened, as if she wasn’t, Spider-Man would’ve been no more.
But that wasn’t the only thing occupying his mind.
There’s no way that what happened wasn’t broadcast, so Ned and MJ had to have at least known of what happened. They’re probably worried sick after seeing what transpired, especially since it might’ve looked like they disappeared into thin air.
He and Ned reconnected, the two of them spending more and more time together just like they had before in high school; he and MJ were also slowly reconnecting, taking it one day at a time—which, Peter did not mind at all. He was just happy to have her back in his life.
But now?
He doesn’t know how to go back to any of that, and it’s scaring him shitless.
“You’re thinking really loud,” Jean’s voice breaks through the silence, bringing Peter right out of his head again. “Like I’m not even trying to read your mind but it’s like you’re mentally yelling at me.”
“Sorry,” Peter weakly muttered. “I’m just worried.”
Jean glances at him, pursing her lips before sighing. “I know,” She sucks in a long breath. “I am too.”
She pauses for a moment, holding in the rest of the air she just took in, hesitating on her next words—the guilt had been eating at her with each passing second, hearing Peter’s own concerns being the final nail in the coffin.
“I’m sorry, this is my fault—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Peter reassured her. “If anything, I should be thanking you—I would’ve died if it weren’t for you saving my ass yet again.”
Jean shook her head. “You don’t have to thank me for caring. May said people like us should stick together, so ..”
Peter was able to spare her a small laugh, albeit weakly. “I’m glad we’re on the same page there.”
Jean scoffed, but didn’t say anything after that—all that followed was silence between them, accompanied by the background noise of the rain tattering on the roof and through the hole in it with the sounds of cars driving up and down the outside streets.
Peter could sleep just about now, but his anxiety wouldn’t allow him to do so as quickly as he’d liked. As for Jean, she was able to get some rest—though, she was mostly in and out of sleep as she wanted to make sure they were still safe while Peter rested up.
It was the least she could do.
The next morning came, the weather still remaining in a state of gloom and downpour.
Peter was up first, Jean being fast asleep still. She looked at peace, though her prominent eye bags told him that it wasn’t this way for the entire night. Beside her was the mask he was missing from his person, Peter quickly grabbing it.
His body ached, but thankfully much less—thank God for his regenerative abilities. He was able to roam around and actually take a look at the interior of the building (or rather what was left of it). It looked like someone left in a rush—so much so that they left a few of their things behind;
A worn pair of boots lay thrown on the ground besides a chair, a leather jacket left in the same state being thrown over the backrest of the same seat. Not too far away from them was also an empty backpack, left wide open and thrown on the floor—and conveniently enough, there was an old umbrella on the other side of the room.
Still having his civilian clothes on underneath the suit, he slipped out of the bloodied torn spandex and stuffed it along with its matching mask in the empty backpack—well, that was before making sure there weren’t any surprises in there.
He know named himself the owner of the three articles, seeing as their original owner clearly didn’t want them anymore; he slipped into the boots and threw on the leather jacket, Peter not quite fitting well into the clothing, them being around two sizes bigger.
“Peter?” Jean’s tired voice echoes through the warehouse as she sat up, rubbing her eyes before taking a look around to find her friend. When he spotted him, she immediately noticed the three new additions to his person.
Jean snorted. “You look like a kid wearing his dad’s clothes.”
“Better than walking around in a busted-up Spider-Man suit,” He shrugged, throwing the backpack on. “Should we walk around, see where we are?”
“I just woke up,” Jean mildly complained. “Can you give me like, five minutes?”
Peter laughed, dryly. “Go for it. We aren’t on a time limit, or anything.”
The five minutes unavoidably turned into ten before they finally got up and walked out of the abandoned building. The large leather jacket covered Peter’s otherwise bloody upper half, his undershirt having been torn and stained after he bled during the battle against The Hand—if he were to garner any kind of attention, it would be from wearing mildly dirty clothes that are two sizes bigger than what he’d normally wear.
He wanted to do nothing more than to just web upwards and swing.
But Peter knows that he would hurt himself—he also wasn’t about to expose his identity again after going through so much to remain anonymous.
Both Peter and Jean were hyper-aware as they walked down the unfamiliar streets; they kept an eye out for anyone who they even slightly suspected to be a part of the D.O.D.C., it being less of a precaution, but paranoia.
Both Peter and Jean had some money in their pockets, enough to get them a meal or two. They made sure to hold onto the cash as they’ll definitely have to use it later.
But among all of those thoughts was the mild panic of not knowing where they were that continued to linger—and it only got worse when they still could not pinpoint a location, no matter how much they’d walk. The public transport systems weren’t even the same ones from New York, meaning that they were definitely in another city to start.
The skyscrapers were also some they’d never seen before, not in any picture nor in person—they also noticed a large tower, one with a giant ‘W’ on the top of it; the structure reminded Peter of the old Stark Tower, the logo giving him an odd feeling in his chest.
They eventually found a library, Peter jokingly calling it a Christmas miracle (we’re in the middle of September). They dried off their boots on the welcome mat and were greeted by a lovely lady at the entrance. She simply gave them a smile before signaling to their right—she wanted them to put the umbrella in the rack.
They obliged, approaching the counter.
“Hi, ma’am—uhm ..” Peter’s voice was dry. “Could we use one of your computers?”
The librarian nodded, signaling them towards where all the computers were. He thanked the lady, Jean flashing the librarian a small smile before shuffling closely behind Peter.
They got to a computer, Peter sitting down in its corresponding seat—Jean pulled up another chair besides him to take a look at what he was doing. Everything seemed relatively normal as they booted it up and opened up the search engine—and then they actually started to look things up.
The name of the city they were in was already weird enough—Gotham, New Jersey. Neither of them have ever heard of it before. Is it possible that they went into the future? Back in time, maybe?
Peter’s fingers continued to dance around the keyboard as he typed his next search—Spider-Man.
And to both he and Jean’s dismay, there were zero results for a Spider-Man.
Literally, zero.
“What the hell?” Peter mumbled under his breath. Jean looked at the screen as well, equally as stunned—how could this be possible? Spider-Man isn’t so easily forgettable.
.. Right?
“Okay, okay—let’s try something else,” He thought out loud to himself. What followed were a series of searches of famous names he could think of; Tony Stark, Captain America, Iron Man, Oscorp, ESU, The Avengers—nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Instead, they stumbled upon news articles revolving around a man named Bruce Wayne—he was getting good press as of late in regards to the scholarships he was practically handing out. In a way, he reminded him of Tony, in terms of wealth.
Within the very next scroll, however, they found more articles, though not about Bruce Wayne—instead, these were reporting on a vigilante named the Batman—another entirely foreign name to the two staring at the screen.
Hell, even upon looking up New York City they got zero results.
Initially, Peter and Jean didn’t know what to make of it. This should be impossible; unless Jean might’ve wiped everything from existence during the shockwave, there should still be traces of all of them, at the very least one of the most wealthy people of their time who doubled as a superhero—not all of these new names that were seemingly replacing them.
But the more Jean thought about it, the more she theorized that this situation might be much, much worse than they think it is.
The way the shockwave imploded, the sudden change in environment; the unfamiliar setting and buildings, big names they’ve never heard of before—heroes they’ve never heard of before.
She linked to him telepathically—”Peter, I think ..”
He looked up at her with a worried look on his face, one that told her to finish her thought.
“Don’t freak out,”—horrible start to a statement—“But I think I might’ve screwed up the timeline with my powers somehow—that, or I’ve sent us to another reality.”
Peter just .. looked at her. He’s seen what magic can do to the timeline if misused, but this didn’t scream that. What it did give him, though, was another possible multiverse situation in their hands—hell, something beyond that as it was looking like this universe didn’t even have a Spider-Man recorded in history, ever.
Jean heard his thoughts and slowly got more and more anxious while Peter started feeling overwhelmed.
”You gotta get us back, Jean,” Was all he could think, to which the girl gave him a look of disbelief.
“Well I would if I knew how! This was an accident because I thought you were gonna bleed out in my arms!” She responded with her telepathy. It was a good point; if their plan was to stress Jean out like that again to see if there was even a chance she would be able to repeat whatever she did with her powers, who knows what kind of mess could form while she’s not in control of her abilities?
She’d have to train herself and figure out what exactly she’d done and how to do it on command before they could even think about getting back—
“Wait.”
Peter stopped abruptly, causing Jean to temporarily halt as well. He started organizing his thoughts, thinking about how Jean could train herself to be able to get them out of here.
The solution?
“I’m sure E.V. would know what to do here,” He muttered. “Only problem is her program is only really embedded in my suit at the moment and there’s no way for us to get set up right now.”
Peter sighed. “We have to start living here for a bit to be able to gather resources for this .. how can we make this work in the meantime?” He partially thought to himself. Jean pursed her lips as she began looking around, unsure.
“Well, I have a pretty solid suggestion, actually,” She mumbled. “Only you’re not gonna like it.”
Peter looked at her, confused—that was until he understood what she meant.
“.. You’re gonna mind control people into giving us things? Really?”
Jean rolled her eyes. “Well, do you have any better ideas?” She crossed her arms, challenging Peter. “I thought we established that we’re stranded in a city we don’t know with absolutely nothing. I’ll wait.”
They stared each other down, internally arguing. Peter didn’t feel comfortable basically stealing from people, while Jean thought that it was necessary if they wanted to be able to survive out here long enough to get back home.
In the end, it was Peter who relented, of course, groaning in defeat. “Okay, fine,” he shrugged. “Just know that I don’t condone this.”
“I know, Peter. I don’t really wanna do this either, but our hands are just tied here,” She tried to reason with him, but she knew she didn’t have to—Peter understood the circumstances, he’s just finding himself struggling with being selfish, even though it’s necessary.
Since they’ve gotten enough answers, they were pretty much done with the library computer. He shut it down and the two exited the library, not forgetting their umbrella. As she said she would, Jean begins to use her powers to get them a free taxi ride to the nearest homeless shelter. When they got there, she made sure they were able to get in—for now, at least. She went as far as implanting a few fake memories into some of the volunteers’ minds, just to be sure.
They got situated relatively quickly, finding their bunk beds surprisingly comfortable. The both of them were fairly familiar with homeless shelters (Jean being a runaway, Peter having had his identity entirely wiped just as he’d started entering his adult years) so they weren’t too uncomfortable in the setting.
Peter was just wary about the security of his bag. He couldn’t afford to lose his suit, not when the potential key out of this place is idly waiting in it. He was sure to keep the bag close at all times, even putting it under his pillow while he slept most of the time.
This was supposed to be a temporary arrangement until they’re able to get enough money for the minimum amount of equipment Peter would need to restore E.V.’s software from the suit—they didn’t know how long it would take, but it wouldn’t be too long.
Well, it shouldn’t have been.
They are now several weeks in with zero progress made. While the homeless shelter was amazing in helping them recover physically and ground them mentally, the job search was useless—especially here with the unbelievably high crime rates, as a lot of businesses were regularly disturbed and attacked. It ate Peter up inside seeing all of this happening and not being able to do a thing about it.
They’ve been accepted into the small community of those who regularly stay at the shelter as well, the two of them being regarded as siblings. They never introduced themselves as such, but everyone around them always came to that conclusion eventually, so they stopped correcting people and just went along with it. It also didn’t help that they looked alike, according to some—but neither of them saw what they meant.
They just accepted the narrative and ran with it.
It’s night time, and the shelter is still as the majority of people were asleep—everyone but Peter and Jean. They were conversing, Jean making it possible to do so telepathically. They were mostly just checking in on each other as Peter had been out the entire day looking for places that were hiring, but ultimately had no luck.
“I’m sure you’ll find a job opening soon,” Jean tried to reassure him.
Peter lightly scoffed. “Well, there has to be—if there isn’t then we are beyond screwed. The longer it takes for me to recover E.V., the longer it’ll take for us to get home—and even then, I have to figure out how to put her software into some kind of everyday wear to be able to bring her around during the day.”
Jean hummed as she pondered, “Maybe some glasses? Earrings? Headphones or earbuds?”
Peter smiled to himself. “All great ideas—but let’s wait for that time to come first. We’re far behind.”
They continued to lay there, Jean’s thoughts shifting away from being able to get back to what they would do here in the meantime. It would be a waste creating a life here when they still have the intention of returning back to their actual home—but at the same time, they can’t just sit in a homeless shelter forever while they wait for a miracle. Not only that, but they’re literal aliens to this world, the two of them being walking ghosts almost as they have no form of identification.
“What are we gonna do about .. you know, our identities?” Jean asked him. “Like, what did you do when you faced the same problem?”
“Well, I didn’t have an overpowered telepath by me when I was homeless and document-less,” Peter half joked. “I had to pull things out of my ass to get back into things—but I imagine that you can make the process much easier with your powers.”
Jean raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want me using my powers to cheat like this?”
“Well, Spider-Man said that,” Peter thought back to his torn suit. “I’m Peter Parker right now, and I’m tired of not existing in the world.”
The girl snorted. “Fair.”
That was thought to be the end of the interaction, the two of them now laying in silence in their respective bunk beds. The two of them tried to ignore it—the concern that they’ve been pushing to the side, refusing to entertain the possibility.
But with each day that went by, their worries continued to grow—what if they really are just stuck with no way back?
Peter sighed. “Hypothetically .. If we can’t get back, then what? Do you .. I don’t know, want to go to school, finish high school? University?”
Jean bit her lip. “I mean, I’ve always wanted to do that, but it was never in the cards for me because of my .. thing,”
“I’m hearing you,” Peter continued thinking. “But no one here knows about you and your powers. If it comes down to it, this could be another chance at .. normalcy for you.”
He hears a light scoff come from Jean. “Careful, Peter—you’re almost making me want to stay.”
Peter smiles to himself. “It’s just a hypothetical,” He reiterated. “We can always get you out of New York to pursue that when we get back.”
“.. I guess, yeah,” Jean sighed.
They said their goodnights, Jean falling asleep first—Peter, however, was far too deep in thought to be able to get a wink of sleep. He was mostly just ruminating on what could’ve been of his life, should he never have fought Mysterio.
He would’ve been able to graduate high school, start university and study in the field he wanted to pursue—if they really couldn’t go back, then maybe he could get his GED again and maybe actually look at education options this time.
But of course, he’d be getting ahead of himself by thinking all of this over when they haven’t even reached the point of no return—they wouldn’t have to get too comfortable as things wouldn’t come down to that.
They’ll be able to get home soon.
They had to.