Work Text:
Stephen wasn’t sure if he really expected to hear from Peter again any time soon. He certainly didn’t know how to approach a conversation himself with a man he apparently once knew and had since forgotten. It had taken years for him to reach out at all, and Stephen offered whatever unhelpful answers he had. They would likely still cross paths as Spider-Man and Doctor Strange, but he expected that would be it. There was nothing more he could really give without the Time Stone for something like this.
Then, after only a couple days, a new series of texts came in one early morning while the sun was just beginning to rise. One might wonder why Stephen was already awake, but it was no secret he had his own demons too.
Peter
I have a friend who I think could do with some magic training
I know you don’t remember but he was able to use one of those ring thingies to open portals
Technically he doesn’t remember it either but still
I’m pretty sure it’d still be possible and he’d be happy to try
Stephen Strange
Where did he get a Sling Ring?
Peter
Not important
Edward Leeds
Goes by Ned
Just thought you should know
Stephen was pretty sure it was an important detail, because people don’t just happen upon Sling Rings, but he supposed anything could happen when the world is about to break. He tucked that name away for later, instead reflecting on the fact that Peter was talking about someone who still didn’t remember. That part wasn’t necessarily a surprise, a spell of that power couldn’t just be broken with ease, but it seemed like Peter had tried. He’d gone and said exactly what memories were missing from someone’s head and it’d done nothing. Again, not surprising, but…
Stephen Strange
Are you alright?
Peter
I’ll be fine
I can still do my job, if that’s what you’re worried about
Not very reassuring. Stephen could reason with himself that it was better for everyone’s safety if the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was in a good state to be saving people, to justify his concern. He wasn’t sure why he had to, but the need to care so much had come as a surprise to him, he wasn't sure how else to deal with it. It seemed that Peter was already back to swinging around the city regardless of his condition in the hospital not long before, so checking in would be the responsible thing to do.
Never one to do things in half measures, he cast a glance around the Sanctum to ensure there wasn’t anything pressing, calling his cloak to him before he split open the space in front of him with a portal. He had no location in mind, only a person, so he was surprised to find the other side holding the view from the top of the Statue of Liberty, having been open for a couple of years now after repairs were finally finished.
Spider-Man sat perched on the edge of the statue’s crown, under the shadow of the Captain America Shield. His back was to the portal and he wore his signature suit, though soft brown curls rustled free in the morning breeze. He’d certainly heard Stephen’s arrival, but made no move to pull his mask back on. In fact, he didn’t move to react at all. When the sorcerer stepped through, letting the portal close behind him, his cloak carried him weightlessly at a safe distance. He didn’t say a word just yet, waiting for the probable outcome of being sent away. He may be a stubborn man, but he would listen. He barely knew this kid. It wasn’t really his place to cross the line, and yet, Peter knew him. He’d been the one to give Stephen a way to reach out, so that had to mean something.
“This was the place it all went down,” Peter finally said after a few beats. His voice sounded hoarse, which didn’t indicate that he was particularly fine. “Up here, you cast the spell that made everyone forget Peter Parker.”
Stephen couldn’t help but grimace, though it didn’t sound accusatory. He didn’t comment on the usage of his full name, instead repeating in a soft voice, “Peter…” It still felt off to say, to address Spider-Man as anything other than his ‘made-up name’. For some reason, that wording made his chest feel tight.
Peter went on to explain, “It was my idea. The world was coming apart at the seams, with everyone from across the multiverse who knew the man behind the mask ready to come through, so many of which probably wanted me dead… You told me it was my fault. I knew that. So I said to make everyone forget me, because none of it would’ve happened if I never existed, and you.. You said no.”
Clearly, he’d gone through with it anyway. They wouldn’t be here now if that wasn’t the case. “What changed my mind?”
/ / /
Peter hung his head in defeat for a moment before finally looking back, his eyes irritated and red with unrest.
(Stephen had found himself wishing his face would look familiar. It didn’t.)
The whole scene was bathed in warm orange from the rising sun, far too serene for a moment better fitted by rainy, melancholy weather. He hadn’t slept at all that night, pretending it would protect him from the nightmares that would ruin the almost good day he’d had, filled with the hope of having Ned and MJ back in his life. In reality, it would all come crashing back at some point and would just make him sloppy in the meantime.
“There was no other way. It was too late. You didn’t want to because you… cared.” That wasn’t the exact word he used, sure, but Peter wasn’t going to put that on him. “Even after the mess I’d made, you still somehow… But you knew you had to do it. I knew it too. You let me say my goodbyes, at least. You saved the world.”
A long moment of silence passed as Stephen regarded him before sighing, daring to float closer. “I’m still sorry it had to come to that.”
“Don’t be. You were right then, it was my fault.” He reminded himself of that every single day. He was trying to do better for May, but some days were harder than others.
“Is there a reason you’re telling me this?” The sorcerer approached closer still, cautious. As if dealing with a ticking time bomb or an animal about to pounce. Peter hated it.
He looked away again, pulling his knees to his chest. “It’s not like you’d ever remember anyway, but you deserve to know.” It was like confessing his sins, knowing he didn’t deserve forgiveness. Here, on top of this symbol of hope, he felt so small. He didn’t have to look over to know that Stephen had lowered to take a seat beside him, separated by the middle spike of the crown, but his silence spoke volumes in the way he hadn’t disagreed. “I let the world forget about me, and then I got so consumed by the darkness that I almost forgot myself too. There’s a monster inside me, and I think I’ve come to terms with it, but in case it does ever get me… or anything else does, in this line of work, I don’t want it to be like I never existed. I can’t live with that anymore.”
“Then I’d like to know you, Peter.”
He smiled, though it was a barely perceptible change, before turning his gaze then to the sky, trying to see beyond. “I introduced myself to you the first time we met, when we were in space. Tony said to keep you safe, so I knew that meant I could trust you. Anyway, when you told me your name, I thought it was made up, part of your whole, y’know, magic thing.”
Beside him, Stephen chuckled a bit, now obscured from view aside from dangling feet. “It has led to many misunderstandings, yes.”
“Sometimes… I think about what Tony would say if he saw how I turned out, and how disappointed he’d be.”
It was a thought that stuck with Peter for years, but it was the first time he admitted it out loud. Stephen was the first person he could tell without sounding insane, as if Tony Stark would have an option on just… some guy. He was more than that, once. He meant something to someone. He’s just gone and messed it all up.
Stephen sighed deeply, so Peter braced himself for whatever gentle letdown of an answer he assumed he’d receive, about how it didn’t matter now anyway now that he was gone so he shouldn’t worry about it. But that wasn’t what he got.
“Tony Stark was many things before the world knew him as Iron Man. He was responsible for at least one of the near world-ending events we’ve faced because of his own mistakes. I don’t think he’d have it in his heart to be disappointed in you, Peter. I believe he’d be proud of how far you’ve come,” the sorcerer answered in such earnest, Peter was almost inclined to believe him. He just couldn’t after every mistake, starting with Mysterio.
“I miss him,” his voice cracked with the emotions he tried to hold back. Tony was indeed many things, especially to Peter, including something he refused to put a word to for fear it’d just hurt worse.
“I do too.”
Peter let out a pathetic attempt at a laugh to try to divert from the agonizing sadness that came with the thoughts of his former mentor. “I thought you didn’t like him.” He recalled how at odds they’d been when he first saw them further.
“Perhaps he was… not the easiest person to get along with at first, but in looking through every possible outcome of the fight against Thanos, far too many of them resulted in his death. It is hard not to respect the man after seeing the many ways in which he was willing to give his life for the world.”
Stephen had spoken with such a scarily composed tone, it was hard to believe he was talking about death.
“Was that really the only way?” Peter couldn’t help but ask the question he’d been wondering for years, his throat tight.
“Yes.”
“And all the timelines where he would’ve lived?”
“They are not for you to worry about. Let that be only my burden to know, they were not kind worlds,” Stephen was quick to dismiss. “There was an even greater number of possibilities for what could come after we succeeded, but it needed to play out like this for there to even be a chance.”
There was no denying that Peter had wondered what might’ve been different if Stephen still had the time stone four years ago, if he could’ve seen the problems ahead and known not to let an emotional kid like him anywhere near magic. He never really considered what it’d be like, having to see all possible outcomes and forever live with the knowledge of both the good and the bad. He couldn’t really fathom how a human mind could be capable of that.
“...I’m sorry,” he said after a long moment.
“What for?”
“For trying to break your spell. Not, like, worldwide, of course. I know you said it probably wouldn’t cause any problems if some people remembered, but I also know I’m not supposed to exist. If one person remembers, what if it all starts to unravel, and I can’t even protect the city anymore? Peter Parker was erased, and I should’ve just started over with a new name and tried to move on but I couldn’t. I know I’m just being selfish.”
The sun had risen higher on the horizon as they talked, the light reflecting off the oxidizing copper of the Statue of Liberty and coloring the water below. It would’ve likely been a beautiful sight from a distance, but sitting atop it all, it was blinding. Peter closed his eyes, hoping to block out more than just the sun following his confession, and leaned against the massive prong of the crown. He couldn’t have seen the complex array of emotions that washed over Stephen’s face from here anyway.
Carefully considering his words, Stephen started, “The spell only erases memory, not the events and people themselves. Everything you have done, the bad and the good, still have impacted the world. Spider-Man could not exist without Peter Parker. Countless people would not still be alive without Peter Parker. Whether or not someone remembers, everything you lived through still happened, and the world has had time to repair.
“Whatever damage done to this world will not return the moment someone remembers. For people to remember Spider-Man, you were never completely removed from the narrative. Perhaps there is someone out there who still remembers the face of the kind young man who helped them cross the street, never knowing his name and therefore never needing for it to be forgotten. There are often loopholes in magic, and very rarely can anything ever be truly gone, for better or for worse.”
Peter wasn’t sure if he wanted to have hope, or if he deserved it. It still came as a relief for the time being, even if it was a dangerous thing to have.
“Thank you for coming. You didn’t have to do that.” He’d been surprised when he heard the familiar sounds of a portal opening, but hadn’t thrown on his mask in hopes that there might be some recognition when he looked back. Of course, there wasn’t, and now they sat obstructed from each other’s view. He also didn’t know what time it must be now, but the tourism would begin again soon enough.
“It was no problem at all.” After a moment of consideration, Stephen asked, “How did you make it out here anyway?” Ferries had stopped coming many hours ago and there was no way to make that great of a distance with webs, as far as he was aware.
Unhelpfully, Peter hummed, “Who’s to say?”
Stephen let out an amused huff, his legs disappearing from view as he pushed himself up to standing again, now looming over the other as his cloak carried him up so he wouldn’t have to worry about balance. Perhaps he would’ve been intimidating, with his inherent power and billowing cloak, if there wasn't a look of fond exasperation illuminated on his face. “If you aren’t going to tell me your secrets, would you at least allow me to take you back?”
“That would be great, actually.”
The younger man followed suit in standing, trusting that with abilities, he wouldn’t fall. He webbed over his backpack that he’d wedged into a corner, his mask inside along with a change of normal clothes, pulling it towards him and throwing it over his shoulder.
“Anywhere you’d like to go?” Stephen offered.
“Anywhere’s fine, I should start patrol soon anyway.”
That earned Peter an incredulous look, reminding him that the sorcerer really had been a doctor and was probably well versed in the health risks of such strain after sleepless nights—then again, why had he been up when Peter texted him? It’s not like he’d been expecting a reply right away, let alone a visit.
Surprisingly, Stephen didn’t fight him on it, instead offering, “At least let me buy you some breakfast first. And don’t over-exert yourself, make sure to get some rest at some point.”
He sounded like a dad, Peter mused.
He sounded like Tony, Peter absolutely refused to think.
“Fine.” Who would he be to turn down free food? “Though I should probably be, y’know, not Spider-Man for that,” he added with a gesture towards his suit.
The other eyed him for a moment, “You got a change of clothes?”
“Yeah,” He shrugged his shoulder, indicating the bag he’d thrown over it.
“Good. We can stop by the Sanctum, then.”
It was decided, Stephen opening a portal before them and then turning to look at Peter expectantly, waiting for him to go through first. He hesitated.
“Thanks,” he said after a moment, “for everything.”
“Of course, I’m here to help. Let’s get going, shall we?”
And they did.