Work Text:
“Ugh”
Peter’s shoebox of an apartment gave no response beyond the persistent drip-drip-drip from his leaky tap. He’d been telling himself he’d get to fixing it soon for weeks, but it seemed like each day Peter managed to muster up the courage to actually make good on that promise Spider-Man was needed somewhere else.
Outside his windows, single pane glass and definitely in need of replacement, the wind howled. Even from where he was on his bed, he could still feel the cold air drafting in.
Peter glanced over to his laptop- one of the few things he’d managed to scrounge together since that day; the day Peter Parker had stopped existing. He still had another three job applications left to go for the day, but his workflow had been entirely screwed the moment he’d gotten in another rejection email.
He’d been sending out applications for months, ever since he’d scraped together the money he needed to go and get his GED. It was lucky that he’d passed the test his first try, if he was being honest. Peter had sort of made the assumption he’d be alright; he’d always done well in school after all. What he hadn’t accounted for then was that part of that had been the structure of school.
Peter hadn’t ever really needed to learn for a test without having any idea what might turn up before. And sure, in terms of the sciences that wasn’t much of an issue- but while he’d been doing pretty alright in his English and History classes Peter had been quick to realize that was largely as a result of the work, he was able to put into the assignments and studying. Not to even start on the fact that a test like the GED worked entirely differently than the tests Peter had gotten used to at Midtown.
Midtown didn’t believe in scantrons and had always insisted students were tested with open ended questions. School for Peter had always leant on being able to understand what it was he was doing, not replicating information in the exact format he’d learned it. The GED test? Mostly multiple choice and relied heavily on knowing how to take the test rather than any actual understanding.
But he’d done it, and with GED in hand Peter had set off in search of a job. He’d managed to find something part time initially, helping out bussing tables in a small run-down diner. But he’d gotten fired from there when he’d wound up with too many missed shifts. His next job had been in a small bookshop- which Peter had thought would be nice and calm. He’d quit after a month when he decided that while he needed something, it wasn’t worth coming home and breaking down every night. No minimum wage job was worth his soul.
Except ever since then, Peter had been on the job hunt. Months of anxiously checking his emails every day and feeling his heart clench whenever another email landed in his inbox. The words “Thank you for your application” felt like they had been engraved on the backs of his eyeballs. The phrase “We have unfortunately chosen not to move ahead with you as a candidate” swimming through his head as he tried to go asleep at night.
Job hunting was hell.
Peter knew- from glimpses he’d gotten of MJ and Ned’s social media pages, and from conversations he’d had with others in cafes, at the public library, that he wasn’t the only one that was struggling. But then he’d see Betty post something about the job she’d landed working for her university paper. Or he’d hear about another of his classmates landing a cool internship and he just felt like a failure.
Everyone around him had always told him he had so much potential. He’d worked at Stark Industries. But none of that mattered because no one remembered who he was.
Sure, he was managing- surviving at least. Freelance photography brought in just enough that he could keep a roof over his head, and the repairs he did for others in the neighborhood brought in the extra he needed so he could eat. But beyond that there was nothing. And with every rejection, every interview that never led anywhere, Peter felt his motivation and self-esteem crumble further.
Every rejection made it harder to remember what he cared about. What he was good at. Made it harder to remember why he even bothered at all. There was always someone better, someone whose “background and experience were more closely aligned to the role”. It was like with every no, every “we wish you luck with your continued job search” the scraps of Peter Parker that had been left after the spell, the parts that were him, that he knew, were erased further and further, bit by little bit.
Yes, Peter needed a job to have security, so he could maybe go a few months without being anxious about whether he’d pull it all together in time to make rent. But he also needed a job because without it, without someone knowing Peter Parker existed he felt Peter slipping further and further away. He had no one, not to turn to when things turned to shit, and not to be there to celebrate with him when things went well.
Spider-Man had people, all of Queens loved him as they always had, and the rest of New York was starting to follow suit as he helped when and where he could. But while Spider-Man was Peter Parker, it didn’t encompass all of him. And Peter needed something to hold onto, something to keep him from fading away into the mask entirely.
He wanted his friends back, his life the way it had been before. He wanted the future he’d always dreamt of as a kid- studying bio-chem and eventually working in a lab again.
His phone lit up with a new email, Peter glanced at it. Stark Industries Internship department. A pipe dream, maybe, but god did Peter want.
He opened his mail app.
“Information regarding the application for-”
His heart felt like it was trying to climb its way out his throat.
He clicked the email.
“Shit” Another rejection.
He wanted so much, but in that moment? He’d settle for something.