Chapter Text
Peter heard Tony’s heartbeat slowly fade, the once-powerful rhythm weakening with every passing second.
Thump, thump, thump… thump, thump… thump.
From the corner of his eye, Peter saw Mrs. Potts lean closer, her voice soft and trembling. “You can rest now.”
Sometimes, Peter’s super-hearing was a gift. But right then, it was a curse. It felt like the world wanted him to suffer—wanted him to relive Uncle Ben’s death all over again—as he listened to his mentor’s life slip away. He felt helpless. A crimson tear rolled down his face, his silent begging doing nothing to save Mr. Stark.
Then the world blurred. Light fractured and shattered around him. His chest clenched. And suddenly—
Peter woke with a gasp. Sweat poured down his face like tears. His chest shook with hiccups that echoed through the empty house. His breaths grew frantic, desperate, as he tried to force the memory away.
Before the darkness could pull him under again, a shrill ringing cut through the silence. Peter dragged himself toward the sound, muttering to himself, “You can have this breakdown later.” His voice cracked.
The call came from an unknown number. He picked up the phone.
“Hey, it’s Peter Parker,” he said, trying to sound steady.
The voice on the other end was polite, professional. “Hi Peter, I’m calling from the Youths Mainstream Library about your application.”
Peter’s heart skipped. Maybe—just maybe—he’d get a second job to help with food and bills.
“I’m sorry, but your application has been denied. We don’t feel you’d be a good fit for our team.”
His chest sank.
The woman continued, cheerful, almost apologetic. “If you’d like, I can explain why you were denied, or answer any questions.”
Peter shook his head even though she couldn’t see. “It’s fine. Thank you. I understand.”
“Perfect. Well then, I hope this won’t ruin your day too much.” She chuckled, and the line went dead.
Peter pressed his hands to his face, letting them sit there until the silence felt unbearable. “Great,” he whispered, voice breaking. “It would’ve been nice… could’ve helped with the bills.” Quieter still: “Great. Just great.”
Frustration clawed at his chest. He pulled on his homemade suit, deciding to patrol instead of sitting in his suffocating apartment. At least out there, he could do something.
But as he tugged on the mask, memories hit him harder than any villain’s punch. He missed Karen checking on him in the suit. He missed FRIDAY’s voice. He missed Tony’s late-night calls and Pepper’s scolding when they forgot to eat. He missed the lab, the laughter, the reckless adventures. He missed May yelling at them both, her terrible cooking, her endless care. He missed his girlfriend, his best friend. He even missed Flash’s constant bullying—at least then, he wasn’t invisible.
Now? He was nobody. Just another forgotten soul on the earth.
Peter swallowed, the irony bitter on his tongue.
No wonder so many heroes turned into villains.