Chapter 1
It was hard to believe that 5 years had passed since the Erasure.
A part of him thought that the time had gone too quickly, that he'd barely just begun to catch his breath and organise his thoughts. Another part couldn't help but wonder how it was only 5 years. Surely, all that pain and loneliness and heartbreak had lasted longer? Not that it had stopped, mind you. It was all still there, bottled up inside his chest, hidden by a body mangled by scars and a red and blue suit that had been damaged and repaired more times than there were stars in the sky.
Ironically, after the spell, it wasn't Spider-man that the world forgot. It was Peter. He knew that Dr Strange had planned to separate his two identities, to hide him and his secret in plain sight once again. But he couldn't help but feel like it was unfair. Spider-man had been the one to destroy his life. The one who had been responsible for the snap, and Thanos, and Tony's death, and May's death, and the crack in the multiverse. Peter hadn't made those decisions. His alter ego had.
That didn't mean Peter thought his Parker luck wasn't responsible, no. It was just that... if he hadn't donned his suit, or tried to intervene, or hell, do anything that he had on the false belief that he was some hero? People would still have been alive. Not his parents. Not Uncle Ben. But others. Tony. May. If Spider-man hadn't got in the way of his life, Peter would still exist. He would still have friends, a girlfriend and a family. He wouldn't be scrounging for scraps and odd jobs, using a shoddy false identity to move into his 3rd suspiciously cheap flat of the year. But he had.
And now he was facing the consequences.
***
Peter had decided to leave Queens 2 years after May's death. It hadn't been an easy decision, but time had not been kind to him. He'd learnt that very early on.
At first, Peter was optimistic. Dr Strange may have erased him, but the Avengers had dealt with weirder things in the past. If he met them and talked to them, they would accept his story even if they never remembered. It was a plan, and god damn if Peter didn't feel good knowing what his next steps were going to be.
After May's funeral, which he watched from afar, drenched in a downpour that made him think the universe itself was mourning the loss of that kindhearted woman, he had made his way back to the abandoned building he'd been roughing it for a few days. An hour later, face red and marred from tear tracks, Peter activated the Iron Spider and launched himself from the rooftop, swinging towards New York. By the time he reached the Sanctuum, his heart felt lighter. If this went well, he could fulfill his promise to Ned and MJ. Maybe Dr Strange could even bring back their memories, or if that wouldn't work, share his, so they could at least learn of their time together.
With hope in his heart, Spider-man shot out one last web and used the momentum to flip midair before landing on the steps to his destiny. The air was cold, biting even, but Peter couldn't bring himself to care. Slowly placing one foot in front of the other, he walked up the cold granite and knocked on the door. Nothing. After a minute of silence, he knocked again. He felt the building breathe at his presence, but still, nothing to indicate a sign of life. Worry shot up his spine, strong enough to make him bounce up and down on the balls of his feet from the anxiety. Just as he felt ready to explode, Peter heard the sound of a lock turning. The next few seconds between that sound and the door creaking open painfully slowly felt like an eternity. But the man in front of him, mug of coffee in one hand and an old spiral bound book in the other, was worth it.
Peter let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and let a small smile crack across his face. While his mask hid his relief, the loss of tension in his shoulders spoke volumes, and the man in front of him noticed the change with practiced ease.
A moment of silence passed between the two, the older raising his eyebrows as an indication for the other to speak.
Peter took the cue. His fingers pinching nervously at the sides of his suit, he took a breath.
"Hi there Mister Steph- Mister Strange sir. My name is Spider-man. Can I come in please?"