The Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man
Peter Parker was definitely cursed (and grounded), but mostly cursed. If he had a nickel for every time a field trip went to shit, he’d be as rich as Tony Stark; not really, but it was close enough. First, he got bit by a radioactive spider, then he destroyed the Washington Monument, and on his most recent escapade, Peter ended up in space where he died a dramatic, and not-so-flattering death.
You’re probably wondering where the Spider Menace is now, considering the whole dying thing means you typically don't walk away from it. Well, he’d like an answer to that too. From what he could gather, he was in an orange abyss with no pearly white gates or singing angels in sight. Let's just say: biggest letdown of the century. If Peter's being honest, the entire place reminds him of Titan, which is giving him the heebie-jeebies. So, all in all, he would rate this place a 0 out of 10. Oh! There's also a creepy green lady staring him down. Did he forget to mention that?
So, in conclusion, the afterlife sucks.
He was snapped out of his musings when the green lady smiled at him, causing his Peter tingle to react viciously, screaming at him get away get away get away. But no one tells him what to do, so he stayed firmly planted in his spot. One thing he knows for sure is that whatever she is, she ain’t human, and she is most certainly dangerous.
“Hello Peter Parker.”
“Oh, so you can talk,” he mumbled. For the past 10 minutes, he had been theorizing if the woman was a really life-like statue.
“I can do a lot more than that,” she stated plainly.
“Sorry lady, but I’m not into that sort of thing,” he said, almost recoiling at his words. Maybe Aunt May was right; he was spending too much time with Mr. Stark.
Despite his very obvious blunder, the woman still laughed, “I have a proposition for you,” she stated, which really was not helping with the previous innuendo.
Instead of being witty, Peter figured he might as well get some information, “Who are you?” He declared rather bluntly; he should probably work on his tact, but he’s had a very long day.
She stepped forward, causing Peter to actually recoil this time. Her shoulders slumped, and Peter felt his cheeks grow warm in embarrassment when she just offered her hand, “You can call me Gamora.”
He reciprocated the motion on reflex when it hit him where he recognized the name from. “Your Star-Lord's girlfriend!” he exclaimed excitedly.
She chuckled once more and let go of his hand. “Yes and no. There is a lot we need to discuss.” She gracefully sat down on the benches that Peter swore weren’t there earlier, but he joined her anyway. “As you know, the Avengers lost, and trillions are now dead," Gamora reminded him grimly. Peter felt an acute pang at the thought. The taste of dust and rot was still fresh on his tongue. Way to be blunt, lady, and he thought he was tactless.
She placed her hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. He thought it would send him spiraling that the very dangerous individual was so close to him, but all he felt was warmth. “I’m sorry for being harsh,” she expressed. Wait, is she a mind reader? “But you have the power to change that, to change everything.”
His brain short-circuited for a moment because he must have misheard her. There's no way he could do anything. Right? Peter tried on Titan, but what's done is done. There are no take backs, no redos, no nothing. Maybe if he were Doctor Strange or Ms. Maximoff, it would be possible, but Peter is just a kid from Queens. “What do you mean?” Peter squeaked, completely mortified by the voice crack.
“We want to give you a chance to go back. Before everything went wrong, and fix it,” Gamora smiled.
“Who’s we?” Peter asked hesitantly.
“That would be me, kid.” A male voice rumbled behind him, but he recognized it quickly.
“Doctor Strange!” he jumped up, making his way over to the man. “It’s so good to see you.”
Strange’s face twitched before he regained control of himself, “I’m not who you think I am.” Strange noticed the confusion on Peter’s face and elaborated. “I am what you know to be the Time Stone, and Gamora is the Soul Stone. We typically take the form of those that are connected to us. Stephen is my guardian, hence my appearance.” He tried to smile, but it was clearly strained; “You may call me Time if you’d like.”
“Okay… totally makes sense.” Peter trailed off because this was definitely not okay and totally did not make sense.
“Let’s cut to the chase,” Faux-Strange began, clapping his hands together. “Peter Parker, you have a choice. You can either forget this conversation ever happened, let events unfold as they may, and live without the responsibility of the world on your shoulders.”
Gamora stood abruptly, interrupting Time. “Or we could send you to the past, in the body of your previous self, and change the world for the better. You could make things right,” Gamora urged. It was clear which of the two options she wanted him to pick.
Peter, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure, “Let me get this straight, I either go on some insane Avengers-level mission to the past, or I stay dead with trillions of others. Seems pretty cut and dry to me. What’s the catch?”
The two immortal beings exchanged apprehensive looks. Time seemed to lose the unspoken argument and elaborated, “You wouldn’t stay dead. The Avengers will eventually scrounge up a plan to bring everyone back, but it’ll take five years.”
Peter goes to voice his thoughts when Gamora cuts in, “Just because everyone comes back doesn’t mean everything is okay,” she remarks sharply. “Those five years are apocalyptic across the universe. Terra fares better than most, but even then, it’s a disaster. Millions are left orphaned, the amount of dust makes the air unbreathable for a year, and the suicide rate clime to an unprecedented high.”
Peter tries, yet again, to ask questions when Mr. Mouth Mullet cuts in, “However, before you make your decision, you need to understand that the weight of the universe will be on you . You could go home, see Ned and your Aunt May, put all this behind you, and be a friendly neighborhood Spider-man. No one would fault you for it. This is a major undertaking, and there will be no second chances. We would be sending you back to the fight in Germany, and you would be forced to relive many painful memories that would cause even the strongest of men to cower in the shadows.” Time stopped his spiel here as though it physically pained him. This was the most emotion Peter had seen on Doctor Strange's face, even if it wasn’t really him.
Peter knew he should probably take more time to consider, and weigh the pros and cons of his actions, but all he could think of was his 6-year-old self-waiting every night for his parents to come home, only to realize a month later that they never would. Peter’s thoughts circled with loss after loss after loss, and now trillions of people will have to experience the same thing. He can’t be selfish. With great power comes great responsibility, and when you can do the things that he can, but you don’t then the bad things happen because of you.
He took a deep breath, counted to ten, and then with as much conviction as he could muster, he said, “Send me back.”
After all, you can’t be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man if there’s no neighborhood.