Chapter Text
Peter wasn't used to this. The last birthday he had he, Ned, and MJ went out to a movie and when they got back they ate cake with Aunt May. The one before that had been spent, with Ned, MJ, Aunt May, and Tony, at the tower eating cookies and building legos. Now his aunt was dead, his mentor was dead, and both his best friend and girlfriend forgot about him. He was alone, and that's how he spent 19th birthday.
He had patrolled all night not even realizing what day it was, until he saw a calendar, August tenth. He paused, skidding into a wall and getting some blood on his newly created suit. He couldn't think anymore, it had been a year since he watched that movie, a year since he stayed up the whole night with his friends even though the next day was just a Wednesday. A year since he had felt truly unburdened and happy.
He missed feeling like that day. He dreamt about it, when he wasn't plagued by nightmares of illusions or Tony. He tried to call it back, more than he blinked. He wished for it as he blew out the single candle on the cupcake he didn't remember buying, on the roof he didn't remember climbing up to.
He was still in his suit, his mask pulled up slightly, after finishing the cupcake. He let his legs dangle, taking short breathes, he didn't have an aunt or friends to stop the rushing thoughts; He wasn't enough, he had nobody, no one would miss him if he jumped.
He just wanted to let go, he just wanted to not be alone anymore. Maybe if he jumped he would get to be with May and Tony and his Parents and every person he had lost. Maybe it was the right move, strength invites challenge, isn't that what Vision said. The tears had started flowing, he pulled the note out of his pocket, the one that was supposed to bring his life back. But everyone was so happy without him, Ned and MJ were going to MIT and didn’t even know he existed, but they were happy either way.
He missed afternoons in the lab, he missed watching movies all night, he missed joking at dinner, he missed his old life. He would never be happy again, and he is sure of it. At this point a group of people had gathered at the ground. They kept yelling at him, stupid stuff like, “do a flip”, or ,“Can I have an autograph?” They didn't notice the tears, they didn't notice that Spider-Man was a person, because he really wasn't; Peter Parker wasn't real anymore, he was just in one person’s memories, and no one would remember after he was gone.
He pulled his mask down. He pushed himself up. He jumped. He did a flip midair, he had to please someone. He let himself fall. He was sure he was ready. But he saw a kid in the crowd. That kid would be terrified if his hero didn't get up. Suddenly, thwip, he was swinging away. He couldn't do it today. He couldn't hurt someone else in his quest to hurt himself.