Existing

Peter was tired. Not just a bit sleepy but the overwhelming exhausted kind that makes every cell in your body ache and you wonder how you're physically going to be able to take another step or if you'd be able to open your eyes again after each blink. That sort of tired.

Life was one long struggle since the night he said goodbye to all he knew. He had been left with nothing and the stress of trying to find even the most basic of necessities when you technically don't exist was just the tip of the problem iceberg. Peter had however succeeded in building himself an anonymous life, that is if succeeded meant he no longer had to sleep in a derelict warehouse and could buy a small amount of groceries each week. It had taken three long years of tears and toil but he was eventually the proud owner of a high quality pile of fake documents which allowed him to take on a job that didn't make his moral standards weep from how shady it was.

Spending so much time hunting criminals turned out to be beneficial when it came to needing a new identity. He was still Peter Parker, just not the same Peter Parker that existed before. This Peter had no family or friends, was twenty one years old and had zero qualifications, an issue he was currently trying to remedy. Right now though, Peter worked day and night. By day he toiled away scrubbing out labs and at night he was the media's most loathed villain, a hated vigilante. If he had time in-between his two jobs then he was Peter but being Peter was the part he hated playing the most and therefore gave the least amount of time to.

Peter yawned as he dragged his weary body to his day job. He daydreamed about a few hours sleep and the leftover Chinese he had treated himself to yesterday. He could have easily eaten it all as soon as he had bought it but he knew at the time that tomorrow's Peter would be immensely grateful to have that to come home to.

He fixed his gaze to the floor as he swiped the door to unlock the rear entrance of his workplace. Working at the Avengers tower was less than ideal and he did his best to pretend it wasn't the main base for Tony. Far too many memories. Tony had bought back the tower after Thanos publicly stating he wanted a more central position for the Avengers. It was more of a symbol of protection then an actively working one but the residents nearby were grateful to have it back. Unfortunately Stark Industries had hit the snag of too many people actively avoiding working there. There had been way too many incidents over the years and whilst people felt safe near it, they certainly didn't inside it. This however worked perfectly for Peter. Their employee requirements were far more relaxed and the central position allowed him to be near the action should Spider-Man ever be needed out of hours. Knowing Happy as well as he did also gave him the knowledge he needed to smash the security interview too.

“Peter Parker!”

Peter turned to see Guy jogging up the hall behind him.

“I'm sorry I had to shout as I just couldn't believe my own eyes! Peter Parker not only on time but fifteen minutes early. I mean you should have called and let me know in advance this was going to happen. That ticker tape parade is never going to get here on time now.”

Peter sighed and rolled his eyes. “Hardy har har,” he responded, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Guy laughed, revelling in Peter's annoyance.

“But really, how are you here on time?”

“I just am," shrugged Peter.

In actual fact he'd not yet been to bed. There was a drug trafficking ring he had been tracking for weeks that were finally making a major move. It had taken most of the night and the early hours of the morning to web the whole gang up and shut it all down. By that point Peter knew he couldn't go to bed or he'd never be up again. Peter yawned again at the thought of his much longed for bed.

“Well Pete my man, I have the best surprise for you today!”

“What?”

“You're going to love it!”

“What is it?”

“I can't wait to see your face!”

“Guy! What!?”

Guy grinned widely. “We've been asked to deep clean Dr Banner's private lab today.”

Peter's stomach dropped.

Guy frowned. “Uhh yay Guy, that's amazing?”

“Sorry,” said Peter plastering a smile on his face. “I was just shocked. That is amazing!”

In reality it was not. Peter wanted to keep his distance as much as possible but to now be scrubbing down Bruce's lab! He just prayed Bruce would be nowhere near it.

Guy slapped Peter's back directly on a large bruise from last night's brawl. He at least managed to hide the wince.

“Well I knew you were a fan so I thought it'd make your day.”

“It sure did.”

Guy and Peter reached the locker room and began stripping down into their work shirts and overalls.

“Fuck me Peter! Who did you piss off this time?”

Peter looked over his shoulder trying to see his back. He'd used the excuse of training in martial arts six months ago when Guy had spotted another injury. It was equally an excellent excuse for bruises and as to why he was in such great shape.

“Ah you know how these classes go.”

“Yeah but that looks like someone's hit you with a baseball bat!”

‘It was actually a crowbar but no need to be picky,’ thought Peter.

“It was just a glancing blow. Looks way worse than it is.”

Peter pulled his bright yellow shirt over his head, hiding the bruise and ending the conversation. He slipped his deep red overalls over the top of his trouser and pushed his arms in the sleeves but left the zipper undone. He was not surprised that Tony even stooped to making his cleaners wear his famous gold and red colours. Anything to give that guy an ego boost.

“Ready?”

Peter nodded. “Let's go.”

* * *

Dr Banner's lab was spacious, bright and well organised. Even Guy couldn't help but gasp as he stepped in.

“Woah this place is immense!”

Peter nodded in agreement.

It felt bizarre being here again after so many years. It had changed a lot and yet it was still the same old space. The whole room had been divided into different work stations depending on what he was currently working on.

Peter nosed around the room, glancing at paperwork and half finished projects. He spotted a photo tacked to a notice board and peered closer. It was Bruce with Tony, Natasha, Steve and Clint. Thor was there too but he wasn't in the picture as he had insisted on taking the photo thinking the camera was just amazing. He still hadn't quite got to grips with it though so the shot was on a slant and half of Bruce's head was cut off. Peter knew all this because he was there that day too, squidged in-between Tony and Nat with a huge grin on his face, only now there was just an empty space where he should have been. The all too familiar feeling of grief started to edge over him, tightening his chest. He quickly walked away from the memory before he was completely drowning.

Peter instead walked up to probably the biggest whiteboard he'd ever seen in his life. Whilst the whole lab was the height of technology, he knew for a fact that Bruce loved to scribble things down during his deep thinking moments. Half the board had a complicated equation on which Peter eagerly absorbed. He had no idea what Bruce was up to but he missed being mentally challenged like this.

“Huh.”

Guy walked over to stand next to Peter.

“What's huh?”

“The math, it doesn't work. Dr Banner made a mistake here,” Peter explained, pointing at part of the equation.

Guy guffawed. “Yeah alright! Like you'd know better than Dr Banner.”

“No honestly! That there should be a six not a four. It throws the whole equation off.”

Guy shook his head in disbelief.

“Come on Will Hunting, we got to sort this mess out over here.”

Peter swivelled on the spot to see an explosion of chemicals coating the walls, floor and smattering the ceiling.

“Aw man.”

“You don't think we got this gig because it needed dusting did you?” chuckled Guy. “Come on, let's gear up.”

Peter heaved a heavy sigh and pulled on his rubber gloves.

* * *

“What a day!” Guy remarked slamming his locker door shut. “You wanna grab a beer?”

“Nah, I gotta get going, I've got some errands to run.”

Guy rolled his eyes. “Could have called that excuse. You need to get out more, Mr. Antisocial.”

Peter inwardly scoffed at the remark. He needed to be out less if anything.

“Maybe next time.”

“Sure, sure and maybe I'm Spider-Man.”

Peter chuckled.

“Let me just go dump the trash out the back. I'll meet you at the corner.”

“Sure,” Peter agreed and grabbed his jacket, patting his pocket to check for his phone and keys. “I'll see you in a second.”

The men exited the building their different ways, Peter making sure to shut the security door behind himself. He walked a short distance up the street before reaching the street corner where he waited. Guy came jogging over a few minutes later.

“Come on, let's get going. I hate hanging around here when it gets dark.”

Peter laughed making Guy frown.

“What! Have you seen those crazy bad guys that go for the Avengers? I'm not crazy enough to gawk at that.”

The pair began walking.

“So why do you work there if you're so concerned?” Peter asked curiously.

Guy shrugged. “I didn't have the best of upbringings, bounced around a few foster homes and that led to a few run-ins with the police. I'm not proud of it but I can't change what happened. Unfortunately most places hold the past against you. Stark was one of the only places that would give me a chance. I know what we do isn't glamorous but at least it's honest.”

Peter nodded in silent agreement.

“Why do you work there?”

Peter grimaced not knowing how to answer but not wanting to lie. “I dropped out of school and no one else wanted someone with no qualifications or experience.”

“Yeah right!” scoffed Guy. “You're like the smartest person I've ever met. No way you're a drop out. Whatever dude you keep your secrets!”

They finally reached the crossroads where they parted ways.

“See ya tomorrow Pete!”

“Yeah, have a good evening Guy.”

Peter crossed over and walked around the corner out of sight.

Lights in the surrounding stores and apartments were starting to flicker on as the sky darkened. Peter knew he only had a couple of hours at most before he needed to be out swinging through the city for his second job. By now though he was edging on thirty-two hours of no sleep and the exhaustion was weighing heavily down on him.

He made the decision to stop at a coffee shop on his way home hoping a good shot of caffeine would keep him going that bit longer. As he ducked into the nearby store, his mind drifted to MJ. He hadn't seen her for just over two years now.

When the memory wipe first happened, he would frequently make excuses to go visit her at work, desperately clinging on to the hope he'd see some recognition in her eyes. He craved that lost connection but he was solid in his decision to not build a relationship with her again. It was better this way. The people around him had been hurt or killed too often. He still missed her though. He missed everyone. That pain had never disappeared but instead had become duller and just another part of him. Occasionally it still stung him suddenly, much like now, as the familiar smell of coffee beans hit him and brought her memory forward.

When she had left for MIT, Peter took the decision to not search for her again. It wouldn't do her any good and it was just causing him pain. He needed to put his past firmly in its place, something which, for the most part, he had managed to do. He had no idea where she or Ned lived or how they were or what they had chosen to do with their lives beyond MIT. He just hoped they were happy.

Peter ordered a strong black coffee and passed a few crumpled bills from his jeans pocket over to the barista. After receiving the takeaway cup, he poured more than a few sugar packs in, stirred it and placed the lid on before finally taking a small scalding sip. The sugar took the bite off the bitterness and the heat helped chase the icy cold of winter out of him. Nodding another thanks to the barista he stepped back out onto the crowded street.

He took another, larger sip of coffee as he waited for a gap in the bustle before stepping forward. He didn't mind his tongue being scalded since his rapid healing soon sorted it.

A familiar voice pricked at his hearing. Peter's heart began to beat a little faster. Familiarity was scary. He needed to keep away from whatever bit of his past was lurking nearby but he couldn't be sure where the person was.

He edged along the sidewalk, eyes scanning all the faces around him until he heard the voice again and that was the moment he finally spotted them.

Tony.

Tony with Morgan.

Peter's throat constricted and chest tightened as grief threatened to overwhelm him once more.

Tony and Morgan were exiting a burger joint directly across the street from him. It wasn't a high end restaurant but it had been Peter's favourite in his past life and because of this it had become a regular haunt of his and Tony's. They would often sit in a booth throwing around ideas and stories. Tony would always buy Peter the most enormous burger on the menu with a mountainous pile of fries and yet would still end up giving him half of his food too. He'd say he wasn't hungry but in reality he just enjoyed seeing Peter's ridiculous appetite finally sated. Some of his happiest memories were spent in that place, memories that now made him feel as though he was slowly coming apart.

Peter pulled his hood up and drew himself inwards, trying desperately to become invisible. He didn't really need to, he was a perfect stranger to Tony and Morgan.

Tony had still been in a coma when the incident happened. When the news reported a year later that he had woken up, a part of him had fervently hoped that Tony was somehow exempt from the spell as he had been asleep but it wasn't to be. There was no Tony seeking him out and asking him where he had been or if he was ok. He had even taken the decision to “bump” into him just to check there really was nothing there. As they knocked shoulders, Tony had turned to him on the street and apologised whilst looking directly into his eyes. Then he turned and continued on to his car where he drove off without a hint of hesitation. So that was that.

He raised his eyes and watched a little. Tony was laughing as Morgan danced backwards. Happy walked a few steps behind them, giving the illusion of a private father/daughter date. He was glad Tony was happy and he got to watch his daughter grow up but this was far too painful for him. Losing Tony was like losing his parents, Ben and May all over again. Having him here, so close and yet completely out of reach was torturous.

Peter threw the rest of his coffee down his throat, ignoring how badly it burnt, and chucked the cup into the bin. Pulling his thin jacket around him, he trudged away from the happy scene and back into his own lonely world.

That was when he heard the screech.

Peter's head shot back to see a car racing full speed down the street. People began to scream and scatter. He watched as Morgan, her back to the chaos, continued to dance backwards. Tony's eyes widened and he screamed Morgan's name. The car was aiming directly for his daughter. He began to run, Happy closely behind him. He wasn't what he used to be though. He had retired from Iron Man after Thanos, his injuries were numerous at the time and he was now older and slower. He wasn't going to make it.

Peter moved his body before his brain could even begin to fire. He dodged pedestrians scrambling out of the way and headed straight for Morgan. As he passed Tony, he placed a hand on the back of his shirt and roughly yanked him backwards into Happy, using the momentum to push his own body forward. Morgan's eyes widened as he pushed her to the ground away from the point of impact and instead took her place.

The car hit hard. Peter's breath was forced out of him and he felt his ribs crack as he was slammed into the car bumper. He tumbled over the bonnet, shattering the windscreen with his forehead as he flew past, before rolling off the roof and down to slam onto the sidewalk.

Peter sucked in a wheezing breath as he desperately tried to fill his lungs with air.

“Don't pass out, don't pass out,” he repeatedly whispered shakily, the mantra having helped him to keep going in the past.

He dragged himself to all fours and raised his head to search for Morgan. The world tilted and his vision blackened for a moment but he shook it off and forced his head up again. Morgan sat upright, her eyes wide and wet with fearful tears. A graze covered her cheek and knees and Peter felt the all too familiar pangs of guilt.

“Morgan…”

Before he could continue, the crumpled passenger door opened and a dark haired man climbed out. His eyes raged as he glanced over Morgan and then Peter crawling on the floor. He turned to look over the ruined car and snarled once he spotted Tony climbing to his feet on the opposite side.

“You don't deserve to live Stark!”

The stranger drew a gun out from the holster on his belt and turned it on Tony. Happy leapt into action, rapidly covering Tony's body with his own, shielding him from a bullet. The man bellowed out in frustration and he spun on his feet. His eyes first settled on Peter and then finally Morgan. Peter knew instantly what his plan was and he scrambled to his feet as the gun barrel was turned on Morgan instead.

He couldnt risk tackling or webbing the shooter, the chance of him hitting Morgan was still too great. He had to protect her. Peter had just managed to wrap his body around Morgan when he felt the first hit on his left thigh. It was like someone had taken a bat to the back of his leg, the impact knocking it out from under him. He began to fall forward onto Morgan so he twisted his body so his full weight wasn't on her and his arm could cushion her head. That's when the next bullet hit. It punctured his back and tore through his midsection before exiting out, nicking Morgan's arm before embedding itself in the wall behind them. Peter's eyes widened as he saw blood splattered all over Morgan and her face draining of colour.

He heard a thud behind him and the gun slid across the floor passed them. Looking behind him, he could see Tony straddling the shooter, punching him repeatedly until Happy reached him, grabbing his fist and shouting at him to stop.

Peter turned his attention back to Morgan, panicked.

“Where are you hurt?”

Morgan's bottom lip quivered. “My arm,” she croaks out, emotions finally taking over.

Stripping out of his jacket and pulling off his hoodie, Peter smiled gently at her as he wiped blood off her face and pushed the ruined hoodie to the bullet wound.

“I'm sorry if this stings. You're so brave.”

Morgan nodded quietly and then began to wail.

“Morgan!”

Tony rushed to his daughters side, his heart hammering at the sight of the blood drenching her. He knelt and grabbed the hoodie from Peter to see the injury for himself. Stroking her face and hair, Tony whispered calming words as he fearfully glanced over Morgan for any mortal wounds.

Peter didn't want to intrude on their moment of reassurance and so used the wall to his side to pull himself precariously to his feet. He scooped his jacket from the floor, his body burning with the simple movement, and pulled it slowly back on. Sirens wailed in the distance as police made their way to the incident.

“Hey kid, you with me?”

It took a second for Peter to realise Happy had stood in front of him and was now trying to get his attention.

“Sorry, zoned out,” Peter muttered.

Happy frowned. “Look, I think you better sit down before you fall down. The ambulance is on its way. I just need to check on the boss and the girl and then I'm coming right back here OK?”

Peter nodded silently.

“Alright. Shout if you need me before then but I'm going to be quick.”

Happy disappeared from his line of sight.

Peter had no intention of staying. He'd already been far too involved in their lives. This was too much, too dangerous. Pulling his jacket tight around him, Peter gave Tony and Morgan one final glance before slipping away, off towards the subway.

He managed to push his way through the growing crowd, every step feeling more taxing than the last, and clinging to the handrail he painfully hopped down the stairs. His left leg was barely usable by the time he reached the platform, its ability to hold any weight had almost completely gone.

Peter tried to breath through the pain as he waited for a train. He just needed to reach home and then he could fix himself up, sleep and forget about this shitty day.

The wait was thankfully a short one. Dragging his left leg behind him, he grabbed a seat away from the few others on board.

Carefully, Peter peeled back his jacket to see his pale green t-shirt saturated with blood. It was as if seeing it made his mind realise how much he actually hurt, pain began to spread like fire from his stomach making him nauseous. He slowly covered his stomach over again before anyone nearby could notice and held his hand over the wound, applying pressure and stemming the bleeding. It hadn't even entered his fuzzy mind that his thigh was soaking blood into the seat beneath him too.

Closing his eyes, Peter tried to block out the pain. It was just a short journey home and then he could rest.

“Don't pass out, don't pass out,” he began to quietly mutter anew.