Chapter Text
They lost.
Thanos won. The silence was deafening.
The only infinity stone they had that could’ve possibly won the battle was given away, and in turn Thanos actually won. Now, it was only a waiting game among the three avengers and Guardians. None of them knew what was to come out of this, all except for Dr. Strange. It didn’t take long until the first sign something was truly wrong appeared.
“Something’s happening…”
No one could stop Mantis’ form disintegrating right in front of their eyes. Quill felt her quickly blow away in the Titan air.
“Quill?”
Drax was next as they all looked over to see that he, too, was turning to dust.
“Steady Quill,” Tony was now panicking as he quickly looked towards Quill, noticing just how shaky he had become. As if on queue, he whispered his final words before he succumbed to the same fate.
“Tony,” Tony quickly looked over to Strange, his tone alone ringing alarm bells in Tony’s head.
“There was no other way,” And then he was gone.
“Mr. Stark..?”
Tony’s heart dropped. This can’t be happening.
“I don’t feel so good…”
Peter’s hands were held out in front of him, as if not believing what’s to come. The trembling barely allowing him to walk towards Tony for support.
“You’re alright,” Tony refuses. This isn’t happening. The boy he didn’t even want to be involved in the fight in the first place, the bright kid who only ever wanted to do good, can’t leave him. How can he ever accept a future where he failed so miserably? Where they failed?
“I don’t know what’s happening… I-I don’t know—” Peter collapsed into Tony’s arms. His grip onto Tony’s back was crushing, yet Tony couldn’t feel a thing.
“I don’t wanna go, sir, please…” Peter’s tears rolled down his face.
With most of Peter’s bottom half starting to disintegrate already, they both fell to the ground, Tony’s hold stronger than anything he’s ever held before.
With one final look, Peter spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
Peter’s spider-sense was shouting at him, he’d never heard it scream that loud. It all made sense once he saw Mantis turn to dust as did the majority of the guardians. Peter knew he was next, he felt it as much as he sensed it, yet his own body tearing apart hurt less than realizing he can’t say goodbye to his aunt or friends, unknowing whether or not they’re still alive. It also hurt less than pleading to live in the arms of his mentor.
He knew, by his own body and head tearing at the seams, there’s no way he’d survive. He knew, yet he still begged him. He didn’t want to go, especially not like this. With his final words apologizing to Tony, for disobeying his order to stay on Earth, for following him into the weird donut spaceship, and for making him see himself in this state. He apologizes, wishing that there was some other way to live.
That leads to where Peter lays now. The spider stuck in this limbo of his unconscious mind floating in a black void. Until, he felt a tug.
Huh?
That’s weird. It was almost like he had actually felt something. But wasn’t he supposed to be dead? He kind of assumed so anyway, that maybe the afterlife was where he just floats endlessly in the vastness of wherever he is.
Another tug.
He starts ‘waking’ up more, if he even was asleep in the first place, and actually feels his body pushing through the heaviness of staying unconscious for so long.
What’s going on?
He thinks, maybe he didn’t really die. Maybe that whole trip was a hallucination made by his subconscious because he fell asleep on the bus ride to MOMA. Maybe he’s having a lucid dream, yeah that has to be it.
But the pain.
This has to be real. Where even am I?
He struggles some more. Trying to find some sort of ground, at the very least, to stand on and make some sense of whatever this is.
Then a light.
The light wasn’t bright by any means, it was barely even big enough to be noticeable for Peter’s senses. And then he stops floating. His feet land in… water? The barely lit light, the color he made out to be orange, started to brighten. Slowly he notices it to be similar to that of a rising sun. It’s uprising so slow he wasn’t even sure if it was moving. Nevertheless, he watched.
Time never being his concern.
If I’m going to be stuck here for eternity, at least I get a pretty sunrise to look at. He thinks sarcastically.
Internally, he knows he’s using his sarcasm as a way to escape what has happened. He isn’t even sure if it did happen, but he for sure knows the pain that came along with it had to have been real.
After waiting for what felt like forever, the sun, or what he just deemed to be a sun, highlighted the water he was standing on. Really, this ‘sun’ was just a strange orange glow making itself apparent over the horizon with not much of a definite shape at all. Though, the shade of orange did remind him of something he’d seen recently… he couldn’t put his finger on it.
Then, he heard it.
Spider-man.
He turned around quickly. What was that?
Spider-man!
Oh boy. This afterlife thing sure did want to mess with him. For some odd reason, his brain decided to conjure up the voice of… Dr. Strange..?
Spider-man! Peter, listen!
“Now this is getting creepy.”
Peter, you need to…
You have to…
Strange’s voice cut off just as he was about to finish his sentence. Peter, personally, finds it annoying that his mind didn’t let him finish his own hallucinations, but whatever. And then, he hears someone else.
Little spider, brace yourself.
“What?”
Searing pain shoots across both his legs. His knees drop down, making a splash in the shallow water where he once stood.
No, no, no. This can’t happen again. The first time being ripped apart was still so fresh. Why didn’t his spider-sense warn him this time?
More pain shoots up his spine. His vision blurring. As he looks up with his hindered sight, he spots silhouettes of… people. And is that a tree? They’re barely visible, it seems like they aren’t all there. A transparent sheen on them paired with the orange light makes them look sort of ghastly. His arms were next. It felt as if his own body was pulling itself apart bit by bit, slowly working through each section just to prolong his torment. He looked at his arms holding himself up from where he had fallen.
They were glowing. Like full on emitting light from beneath his skin. It was glowing the same exact orange color of the ‘sun’! The cracks along his skin where he started to be torn from making way for the light to shine through. He didn’t stare for long, though, since the pain started to become absolutely unbearable. He had nothing to focus on other than that pain, so he did the only thing he could do.
“Please! Help me! Please!” His shouts feel as if they’re barely making a sound. Tears streamed down his face. The tear droplets meeting the water being the only other sound outside his pleas. The light from the sun, growing brighter, looked damn near blinding.
“I-I can’t do this again! Please, you have to help me!”
Nothing moved. The cracks shining brighter than ever, inflicted more jolts of pain throughout his body. His arms weakening, his voice straining. He just wanted this to end.
With one final plea, he whispered.
“Please.”
Then he passed out.
He gasps awake.
He can’t seem to get enough air. He realizes he’s hyperventilating. There’s different noises everywhere, his spider-sense screaming in every direction. He wants to connect it back to what he felt on Titan, but this warning feels different. Instead, it feels like it’s going off for an everyday crime he’d stop in Queens, but instead of just a couple, it’s as if hundreds of crimes were happening simultaneously in a one mile radius.
Something’s wrong. He can’t breathe. He needs… he needs…
Breathe Spider.
What do you think I’m trying to do!?
Listen, he appreciates the warning the voice said earlier, but you’re not helping right now. (Subconsciously he notes how it sounds oddly like the Scarlet Witch).
Peter, you need to calm down.
Who tells a person having a panic attack to just calm down? You couldn’t have possibly thought that would’ve worked, Strange. We need to ground him and bring him out of his panic. Hey kiddo, can you name five things you see for me?
Another voice. It sounded a lot like… the Falcon. Okay, now he’s really losing it.
You aren’t losing it yet, Spidey. Come on, stay with us.
So now he has four voices inside his head. How fun. Sorry to the voice that sounds like the Winter Soldier or is it White Wolf now? Now’s not the time! He's having a really hard time listening to anything at all! More voices started joining in, some he didn’t even recognize. It all halted by a sudden commanding voice.
All of you shut it. Obviously, the more of us that talk, the more he’s overwhelmed. He’s barely even conscious as is. Stick to only Strange and Maximoff for communication until this is resolved.
Yes, that would be amazing. Thank you, imaginary Nick Fury.
Not imaginary.
Peter decides to ignore that.
Peter, focus. Name five things you can see.
He can do that. His frantic eyes scan his surroundings. He’s on a roof top. He can see the door to the entrance of said roof. The night sky above him, he makes note of the lack of stars. He can see a bright skyscraper in the distance. If he focuses for long enough, he’d notice the sign on the building bearing a big letter W with the name. Wayne underneath. He can see… gargoyles. Perched on the edge. The design was beautiful, really. He looks at the cracks beside these gargoyles. They look worn down as if something had been hooked onto the edge over and over again.
Good, Peter. Now name four things you can feel.
He can feel the chilling air of the night brush by him. His hair tickling his forehead, following the wind. The slick metal of his Iron Spider suit has a cooling sensation to the bits of exposed skin that touches it. The coldness makes it easier to believe whatever this is, is actually real. The rough, dirt riddled, ground of the roof top felt gritty underneath him. He wonders, how often are people walking here for there to still be fresh dirt tracks?
You’re doing very well, Spider. What’re three things you can hear?
Well, the most apparent are the blaring sirens of multiple cop cars driving together. There’s even more people shouting paired with cackles sounding more like an evil mastermind’s than genuine enjoyment. The other thing he hears are drops of water, increasing in numbers by the second.
Oh. It’s raining.
Whether he finds it comforting or not, he hasn’t decided.
Good job! We’re almost there. Can you name 2 things you smell?
Well, that’s the easiest one yet. He smells a combination of burning chemicals, which cannot be safe, and the most prominent of all, smog. Now that he’s paying more attention to it, the stench is so strong that it’s starting to hurt his nose.
One last step Peter, you can do this. Name one thing you can taste.
…
Dust.
He can taste dust.
The dust bearing a metallic undertone in its taste. He doesn’t want to think much of why that is. The chalkiness of it all creates an uncomfortable feeling he just can’t get out.
You’re okay, you’re safe Peter. Focus on my voice.
He hadn’t even realized his breathing started to pick up again, even after completing the exercises. Either way he chuckles at Strange’s words, his spider-sense doesn’t seem to agree with that sentiment.
Sure, let’s go with that.
He tries standing up and immediately falls onto his back. The wind getting knocked out of him.
Oh wow, that’s… not fun. You know what, maybe I’ll lay here a little longer.
Don’t push yourself, Parker.
Wasn't planning on it, Director.
The oncoming rain was hitting his grimy face. The rain is nice, he decided. It’s really helping all the guck wash off. It’s like a free shower in a way, he humors.
He lies there. His mind is still racing and his spider-sense is doing no better, but the rain drops were an oddly grounding sensation. It allowed him to focus on the water hitting his skin rather than everything else going on. Exhaustion creeping in from everything that had happened in the last… wait. How long has he been here?
He sits up, fatigue be damned, immediately signaling for his suit to retract over his head. The first thing he hears is Karen’s voice.
“Inefficient energy supply. Multiple damages reported, caution advised. System shutdown expected in 30 seconds.”
“Karen! Karen, can you hear me?”
Silence.
“Hello?”
The system must’ve been so screwed over while getting to wherever this is that it’s not even taking voice commands anymore.
“Respond, please!”
…
“Shit. Shit. Shit!”
He quickly retracts the Iron Spider into its confinement with the little time that was left. There’s no way he can risk getting seen as Spider-Man in this state.
Oh.
He mentally slaps himself. How did he forget he’s wearing his damn cloth suit underneath? Well. The plan on not getting seen as Spider-Man is out the window. He feels around for his mask and no dice. It must have blown away while he was hanging onto the space donut. Just his luck.
That’s when he spots it, a paper bag with the labeling of Bat Burger. Thankfully, it’s sturdy enough to not completely fall apart in the light rain. He ignores the feeling of the slightly soggy bag and proceeds to rip two holes out to create a place for his eyes. Then, he puts it on.
That’s so gross, kid.
“Oh please. Do you have any other ideas? I’m all ears!” And now Peter’s talking back to the voices. If this isn’t what going insane is like, he doesn’t know what is. As he continues debating whether or not he should ditch the bag, say fuck it, and start running around in his underwear, he hears it. A step, even if faint.
Someone’s coming.
Peter quickly ducks against the wall side of the rooftop entrance. The darkness hiding his figure. He peeks around the corner and sees it. Two people in what look like costumes. He assumes it’s probably just people coming back from a nearby convention or something, considering the whole mask and cape situation.
But then why are they hopping across rooftops? Especially when it’s raining.
Oh come on. The rain is like a light sprinkle at best plus I hop over rooftops all the time during my free time, is it really that weird of a hobby?
Considering you do the rooftop hopping while actively punching bad guys in back alleys, I’d say your opinion is invalid.
Why the heck am I getting judged by the Falcon of all people? You literally fly in giant mechanical wings during your free time!
Peter ignores the feelings of amusement radiating from the back of his mind. He seriously needs to get these hallucinations in check.
Suddenly the figures started talking.
“The west end is all cleared for now. Black Bat and I finished before the rain even started. How’s that for efficiency?”
The device in both of their ears flickers on, sounding like someone picking up the line.
“It wasn’t even a competition! And even if it was, you know Black Bat was the only reason you won.”
The other figure standing next to the boy that was talking, Peter assumes is Black Bat, starts to laugh a bit.
“It sounds like you’re a sore loser. I recall a certain someone betting their hidden snacks that they’d clear out their end before me. Sounds familiar, Spoiler?”
“That was before I knew you’d be patrolling with her! I literally said the bet was off once I found out.”
“And I told you that it was too late since we already left the cave by then.”
“That’s so not fair. Agent A doesn’t let us eat half the shit I have hidden! You know you cheated you little—”
A rumbling voice spoke.
“Red Robin, Spoiler, clear comms. Take your matters elsewhere until patrol is over.”
“I’m being scammed and you don’t even care!”
A grunt is all that responds back.
“Fine. Whatever. Still don’t think this is fair at all.”
“Sorry, B. We’ll start heading back soon.”
The boy who Peter now recognizes as Red Robin turns towards Black Bat.
“What are you laughing at?” He smirks, failing in acting offended.
“Funny. You planned it. Didn’t you?”
“I would do no such thing.”
They silently stared at each other.
“Hypothetically, let’s say I might’ve had some foul play, but I only did it because she took all my sweaters and hid them in the cave for three days. Three whole days! This is the least she can do.”
He starts looking around, seemingly scouting for their next destination.
“Plus, Spoiler was covering near Crime Alley. There’s no way she didn’t ask Hood to help with the bet. They would’ve never given up the chance to…” His sentence trails off.
“Did you see if this building had a fire escape?” He looks around the floor, inspecting the area.
“There’s one, broken. It has been for years.”
“Hm. No one has occupied this building in a while too, but these tracks on the ground look as if some had just been walking up here.”
Uh oh. Peter honestly thought the rain would’ve washed away any evidence he’d been on there by now but just his luck.
“That’s strange… someone must’ve broken the locks to the entrance to get up here.“
“Quiet.”
Red Robin stops talking immediately.
“Still here.”
That was Peter’s cue to get the hell out of there. As he slowly takes a step back to sink further into the shadows, he steps into a small puddle.
Curse you uneven rooftops. Why must you do this to me!?
The two rooftop hoppers had gone quiet. Maybe they hadn’t noticed it?
Peter’s spider sense suddenly blared with the clearest message he’s had since waking up.
…Watching…
Peter quickly looks around trying to find the source. He looked back to where they once stood, but there was no one to be seen. Peter further hones in on his senses.
…Up…
As he does so, he sees the full face mask of Black Bat staring down at him from the top of the rooftop entrance. If Black Bat’s there then where’s—
Peter turns back around and is met with a face full of bo staff accompanied by Red Robin’s hardened glare.
“Who… are you?” Black Bat jumps down on the other side of Peter. Her question sounded genuine, giving a more curious tone rather than an interrogating one.
At this point, Peter’s makeshift mask was absolutely soaking. The fact it still held up for this long was impressive in itself, and Peter himself was just really over it. In resignation, he sighed.
“Um… how about we make a deal. You guys got any extra masks?”
Red Robin looks over Peter’s shoulder as if he’s having a mental conversation with Black Bat. His face grimacing and twisting signaling he probably disagreed with whatever Black Bat was conveying. Even then, she still responds first.
“Yes.”
“Great! So how about I’ll tell you two all about me if you guys give me a mask to put on.” He spits out a piece of the wet bag caught in his mouth.
“And you’ll tell us the whole reason for this… mask charade?”
“Yup.”
“Okay then. Here.” Red Robin hands him a spare mask he kept in his utility belt.
Holy shit that actually worked. That was way too easy.
Peter reaches out to grab it from his hands and really looks at it. The domino mask barely hides anything. His eyes are the only thing it actually covers.
“Oh. Do you not have a mask like, you know, Black Bat?” Pointing behind himself.
“No offense dude, but this thing can barely cover my eyes let alone my identity.”
“Your identity… What are you some kind of superhero wannabe? Listen, I know what we do may seem like a ton of fun, and I’m glad we’ve inspired you to want to do good, but it’s actually really dangerous and—“
“Okay! Okay. I get it. Save the speech. Jeez, do you guys always get random people running around rooftops pretending to be vigilantes?”
“More than you’d expect.”
So they are vigilantes. I wonder which part of New York they’re in.
“Well, I’m not one of those.” He finished putting on the domino mask under the sopping wet paper bag, making sure it’s secured and won’t fall off in the rain. Once finished he discards the bag completely. Yuck.
“I guess it’s time for my end of the deal. The name’s Spider-Man with a hyphen! I can tell when you say it without one.”
Red Robin deadpans, “Spiderman.”
“Actually it’s Spider-Man.”
“…Spider-Man.” He says with a slight tone change.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”
“This guy is messing with us, of course. Just as we’re finishing up.” He mumbled. Peter probably wasn’t supposed to hear that, but he can’t really turn off his super hearing. He decides he doesn’t like this bird’s attitude much.
“Hey! I take offense to that. I know I may not be as popular as the Avengers—”
“Avengers?”
“—But I’m pretty sure the people of New York have at least heard of me before.”
Black Bat speaks up again, “Not in New York, in New Jersey.”
“Huh?”
“Where are you from?”
“Queens… You’re saying I’m in New Jersey right now?! You gotta be kidding me.”
“Yes. Gotham City”
“Gotham what now?”
Red Robin butts in, “Gotham City, crime central of America. It’s a pretty hard place to ignore considering we’re on the news every other day.”
“Did you think we were in New York City this entire time?”
Are they messing with me? What the hell is Gotham City? Something is seriously wrong here.
Peter, you have to keep focus. We still don’t know if they mean well or not.
I’m trying! It’s not everyday I get transported to a fake city!
He feels a hand being placed on his shoulder. He jumps a bit and turns around to see it belonging to Black Bat.
“Okay?”
“I…”
“Need help?”
Peter sighs, “Maybe? I’m not even sure if you or Bird Brain over there can even help.”
“Excuse me?”
“Let us try.”
“Are we just gonna ignore his comment?” Both of them ignore Red Robin.
“What I’m understanding is that you guys have been vigilantes of ‘Gotham City’ for a while now.”
She nods.
“How long has Gotham been like this?”
“Years before we started. Been like this for over eighty-five years.”
His face must’ve shown his surprise because he can’t help but feel Black Bat’s pity. He didn’t linger on it for long, though, since he suddenly heard Red Robin start talking to someone. He hadn’t even realized Red Robin was moving away until just now.
“Yeah B, something came up. We have someone who looks to be about 16, maybe younger. Says he’s a vigilante in New York City. I doubt it though.”
Someone mumbles something back.
“We found him near the place you told us to check out because of the energy surge.”
Peter’s barely able to hear the other end due to his spider sense suddenly ringing again.
“I mean we can try bringing him in, Black Bat’s talking to him right now, but I’m not sure how cooperative he’d be.”
There it is, the catch. He feels disappointed at himself for thinking they’d help him for free and oddly sad that they weren’t genuinely making sure he was alright.
“Spider-Man?”
Peter refocuses on the conversation with Black Bat.
Get out of there, Parker.
Way ahead of you, Director.
“Well,” he claps his hands together, “It was nice talking to you two, but it’s really way past my bedtime! You know how it is with us vigilantes and all.” Peter says in a totally not awkward way as he turns to Red Robin.
“Spider-Man, we can help you get back to Queens. You’d just need to come with us.”
“Uh, sorry no can do Birdy. Places to be, people to meet, and all that jazz. I think it’s best for me to get going.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
Black Bat tenses behind him. Peter realizes he won’t be able to leave without a fight or maybe…
He quickly webs Red Robin’s feet and hands as well as Black Bat’s own feet to the rooftop ground.
“What the f—” Red Robin tried pulling back, but his reflexes were too slow.
“It was super nice meeting you guys, really! I’d say we should do this again sometime, minus the wanting to take me hostage part, but I get the feeling you two might disagree.”
“What are you?”
“I already told you, the name’s Spider-Man. Don’t wear it out!”
With that he runs, jumps off the building, and swings away, leaving the two confused vigilantes stuck in the rain.
Peter eventually finds refuge in an abandoned building far enough away from his original location. He managed to find some clothes that fit him well enough from an apartment that left their clothes out to dry. He feels a little guilty that he stole them, but they couldn’t be bothered to bring them inside from the rain, so he hopes they didn’t care that much anyways (He makes a mental note to go back to eventually pay them back).
He also quickly ditched the mask the second he changed into normal clothes. He might not be as much of a tech expert as Mr. Stark, but it was so obviously bugged there was no chance he was keeping it for another second.
The abandoned building was very worn down but was still structurally strong if the dryness of the interior said anything. Unexpectedly, it was still somewhat furnished meaning someone would’ve had to abandon it recently. A light sheen of dust laid over everything and some things were even covered in plastic. They probably planned on moving it, but never managed to. It was unfortunate for them, but Peter wasn’t complaining. With his quick look around, he realized it was an extremely small studio with the kitchen in the same room as the living room, the bathroom probably wasn't even functional in the state it was in.
Peter decided he wasn’t going to dwell on it. He looks back at the couch that was covered in plastic, exhaustion finally making itself apparent again.
I need a fucking nap. Better yet, I need to sleep for twelve hours straight.
He lays on the couch not even bothering to take the plastic off. He tells himself it’s because he didn’t want to ruin the couch with his wet clothes, but deep down he knows the day had finally taken a toll on his already exhausted body. For the first time in what felt like hours, he laid his head on the plastic covered cushion and started to rest.
Goodnight, little Spider.
He was out before he could respond.