um...wtf?
Did Peter know exactly what would happen when Dr. Strange did that last spell? No, of course not. He had an idea, obviously. No one would remember him and he would be well and truly alone for the first time in…well, ever. But he would figure it out right? He always did.
But did he expect to be sucked into some kind of orange glowing portal like a damn vacuum and spat back out into an alleyway? ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT. Quite rude, if he said so himself. Well…maybe he did deserve it after damaging the multiverse and making Dr. Str- Stephen..making Stephen help him fix the ungodly amount of mistakes he made.
He sighed, getting up from the pavement he landed on (in a totally graceful manner, by the way) that smelled suspiciously like piss, groaning as he did so. The few bruises he got from being ejected from a portal onto solid ground healed relatively quickly (although the cuts from the fight ten minutes ago were still somewhat fresh), leaving him to worry more about his surroundings. His spider sense had been going a bit wild since he landed here, but was now a low hum at the base of his skull. Still weird, but he ignored it for now.
He was in an alley between two apartment buildings, from what his hearing could pick up. A baby crying, someone doing dishes, a couple fighting, a person listening to rock music…all on different levels in different areas coming from the two separate buildings. It was starting to get dark out, the sky a slightly dark blue in the horizon, which was weird because wasn’t the sun rising when Dr. S- Stephen did the last spell?
That thought was put on hold as the reality of the last few days hit him like a ton of bricks. The multiverse existed. Multiple Peter Parkers lived in those universes and two of them got dragged to his because of his misgivings. Not only them but their respective villains too. In the midst of trying to help the villains, Aunt May…Oh God. May. What had he done? He couldn’t think of her. If he wanted to get through this, he couldn't let himself think of her. Which was obviously easier said than done.
The rage that had consumed him when facing the Goblin moved to the forefront of his mind, making his fists clench. He was glad the other Peters were there to stop him from doing something he’d regret, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it would’ve been better if he had gone through with it. Would he have truly regretted it? The man was the reason for his aunt’s death, after all.
I may have done the final blow…but you killed her, Peter.
He shut his eyes tightly at the memory of the Goblin, stumbling until his back hit a wall, slowly sliding down till he sat on the ground again. His breaths came out short and shaky, tears stinging his eyes as he tried to keep his breathing under control. It just got worse as the memories of his aunt’s death came rushing back. He was the reason she was there in the first place. He was the reason she died. He could practically hear the explosion ringing in his ears, feel her limp body in his arms, see the blood on his hands…
Breathing became harder and harder as tears started to spill from his eyes. He felt as though his suit was suffocating him, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in the skin tight fabric. Sobs left him as he tried to take the suit off, confusion and desperation blurring his thoughts when the nanotech seemed to glitch. The tech side of his suit was malfunctioning for no reason and he couldn’t breathe.
Dark thoughts flooded his mind as he clawed at the neck of his suit, his panic rising as he remembered that he was completely alone now. No Ned. No MJ. No aunt May…No Tony.
No one.
No one…
No one.
Just as he decided to just rip the damn fabric off of his body, not caring for the tech he would damage in the process, the universe seemed to have mercy on him. The nanites stopped malfunctioning for enough time for him to take the suit off, leaving him in the clothes he had underneath it.
He kicked the suit away, backing himself against the wall even more, as if the pile of fabric was the cause of all his problems. He hugged his knees to his chest, pressing his face into them as he tried to calm his breathing. He took deep breaths, four seconds in, hold for two, out for six. He repeated those words like a prayer in his mind until his breathing was back to normal and he could think somewhat rationally.
Goblin was just trying to hurt him when he said those things, it didn’t make them true. Aunt May wanted him to help the villains. She was proud. And she wouldn’t want him to blame himself for her death.
He exhaled one last shaky breath, leaning his head back against the wall behind him, letting the trail of tears dry without wiping them. He stared numbly at the closest window on the other building, arms limply placed on his bent knees. Sure, he could tell himself those things and maybe they were rational, but it was hard to believe.
He doesn’t know how long he sat there, just that by the time he gathered up the suit and his dignity, it was fully dark out and the lights of the apartment in which he was looking into were now turned off. He got up, deciding he needed a distraction and had to think about what the hell he needed to do next now that no one remembered him.
He looked around, smiling slightly once he caught the sight of a fire escape. He always liked to think up on roofs, the heights made him feel better. Usually, he’d just crawl up the building, but he was now in his civilian clothes so he had to act normal.
He stuffed as much of his spider suit he could into his pocket, not really caring that some of the fabric was sticking out. As he walked towards the fire escape, his spider sense spiked, alerting him of a dangerous presence coming close to the alleyway. Two- no, three sets of footsteps coming his way. He quickly made his way up to the roof, watching as three men entered the alley, laughing together, the smell of gunpowder clear to Peter even from this high (because duh). What was more interesting was their appearance. They were all wearing the same cheap looking purple waistcoats on top of green button ups, an orange flower attached to the vest…and they all wore clown makeup.
Deciding that he had dealt with enough in the past couple days, he leaned away from the edge of the roof and walked to another side of the building. He would deal with those freaky looking people another time as Spider-man. He sat down on the ledge and finally looked up at the sweet, familiar sight of Queens.
Except he wasn’t looking at Queens. He was pretty damn sure he wasn’t even in New York. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked around, really taking in his surroundings now. It had its similarities to New York, sure, but he knew his city like the back of his hand and this was not it. Where the hell was he??
He leaned down to look at the streets below, trying to find a street sign that could tell him just that. He wasn’t afraid to fall since he kept the tips of his fingers stuck to the ledge. That’s when he heard a person land on the roof. He tensed up, even if his spider sense didn’t spike, he was now on high alert since he didn’t know where he was. It didn’t help that his spider sense had been a dull hum the whole time he’s been here, wherever “here” is.
“Taking the easy way out, huh, kid?” A gruff voice asked, making Peter’s head tilt. Easy way out? He turned around, ready to question what the hell this guy was on about.
When he saw who that voice belonged to, he froze. Broad shoulders, big arms crossed in front of a defined chest and strong looking legs. Peter had to metaphorically pick his jaw off the damn floor, his little bi heart hammering against his chest.
He tried not to focus on his mini gay panic and instead turned his attention to the suit the guy was wearing. Skin tight, showing off all those damn muscles, practically all black with hints of red, including a symbol on his chest that kind of resembles a..bat (uhhhh) and a completely red helmet, except for the eyes which were white. To complete the look was a jacket cut at the shoulders over the suit, the hood up, making him look a tad bit more intimidating.
He was a vigilante, but he could see and smell the multitude of weapons on his person. So maybe not a pacifist then…
Remembering himself, he forced out a response, “um..what?"
Ok so maybe not an amazing response, but one nonetheless. The vigilante (?) tilted his head, obviously studying him. He was leaning against the AC unit on the roof, seemingly comfortable with his surroundings.
“Were you thinking about jumping?” The man asked him, Peter recognizing the use of a voice modulator now that he wasn’t uh..distracted. Registering what the stranger said, Peter looked back down at the street then up at the young man again. Ohhhhhhhhh.
He chuckled when he realized what this must look like. If only shit could be that easy. But even if he wanted to do that, he wouldn’t let himself disappoint May like that. The wisdom she gave him before she passed burned a hole in his mind. With great power comes great responsibility. He couldn’t take the easy way out. He had a responsibility to uphold. He shook his head and looked at the vigilante with a small smile.
“Not any time soon, no.” He told him, turning back in front of him, looking into the streets below again. He didn’t lean this time, hoping to ease any suspicion of his intentions.
He heard the man’s quiet footsteps as he came closer to him, he was still slightly tense since he didn’t know this vigilante. Not only did he not know him, he didn’t know where the fuck he was. The man sat down beside him, a good distance away, but close enough to reach out and stop him from “jumping”. It would make him laugh if he wasn’t seriously concerned about his whereabouts.
“Then what were you doing?”
Peter looked at him and wondered if he should tell the truth. Or some of it. He could probably get some answers out of this unknown vigilante.
“I was looking for street signs, trying to figure out where I am.”
There. The truth…just no explanation. Those just complicate things anyway, right? The vigilante turned his head towards him, studying him again before responding.
“You’re in Crime Alley.” He informed him, still looking at him as if he was waiting for his reaction.
Crime Alley. That’s reassuring.
At Peter’s confused look that he obviously couldn’t keep off his face, the vigilante chuckled, shaking his head and facing forward again.
“You’re not from Gotham, huh…so where you from, kid?”
Gotham. So that was an answer. But not an answer he understood. He knew the map of America. All the States and a lot of the cities. But he never heard of a city called Gotham. What the fuck did he get himself into?
“Queens.” His answer was absentmindedly stated, still trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
“Go back to Queens. Gotham isn’t the right place to run away to.”
This only confused him even more. A city that was definitely not on the map of America. A new vigilante he has never even heard of before. Weird ass thugs in clown costumes. And apparently this city wasn’t great to live in..?
“Why not?” He asked, not denying that he ran away, mostly because it was a good cover story and he knew when to seize an opportunity when it's handed to you. The vigilante only seemed to grow more curious about him and regarded him for the like 10th time tonight, head tilted.
“Gotham, New Jersey? The city with the worst crime rate in America? Ring any bells?” His tone was slightly mocking in a playful way, but his words were definitely true. And yes, bells did ring. Alarm bells, that is.
He knew there wasn't a city called Gotham in New Jersey. At least…not in his world. The simple notion of Strange shoving him into another universe seemed just impossible, right? He wouldn't do that…unless.
Peter fucked up the multiverse, he asked Stephen to erase him because it was his fault, his identity’s fault. What if it was so fucked that Stephen didn't want to take a chance and not only erased his identity from people's minds but completely changed his place in the multiverse?
The thought made his breath catch in his throat as he looked out at the city in front of him. The city of Gotham. Apparently a dangerous city too. If Stephen thought it was best for him to leave his universe and chose to put him here, there must be a reason. That made him come back to the present, looking back at the vigilante and clearing his throat.
“I guess that means you have your work cut out for you." He was curious and prying for information on the universe he was sent to. The vigilante shrugged, leaning back with his arms behind him, supporting his weight.
“My attention is mostly on Crime Alley. The bats and the birds take care of the rest of Gotham.”
“The bats and the birds?” Peter noticed the tension surrounding that phrase when the vigilante said it. Were they good guys? Or did they just control Gotham? Why was this vigilante tense just talking about them? And what kind of names were those-?
“Wow, you really know nothing huh…do you at least know about the rogues and what to do when they break out of Arkham?”
The vigilante was deflecting. Didn’t want to talk about these bats and birds. Peter let him change the subject, mostly because he didn’t know the rogues this city had and needed to know as much information as he could about the dangers of this place. From what he could gather, Arkham was a prison of some sort. He shook his head to his question, urging him to continue. The hooded vigilante sighed and let his head hang back.
“If you don’t even know that much, you won’t survive a week here. Go back home to Queens, kid. It’ll be better that way.” His tone was sullen and weirdly soft.
“I don’t have a home anymore. No one to go back to.” He decided to tell the truth again, even though it was kind of cryptic. But he truly couldn’t go back home. Not only because he didn’t know how, but because there wasn’t a single thing waiting for him there. No one remembered him. He would’ve had to start fresh in Queens anyway, now he’ll just have to do it in another city and universe. Of course, it couldn’t just be a good safe city. Nooooooo, it just had to be the most dangerous fucking city in this universe’s America.
The vigilante nodded, a quiet sigh escaping him once more, as if he understood and, for some reason, Peter thought he did. Maybe not in the exact same multi-dimensional way, but in the way that he knew what not having a home or anyone to go back to felt like. He kind of felt a kinship with this hero, in some weird way, even if he didn’t know the guy at all.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Peter.”
“Alright, Peter, if you’re dead set on staying, let me bring you somewhere safe. There’s not a lot of homeless shelters you can trust, but…the Wayne Foundation has some well protected ones that won’t call CPS. You’ll probably run away from this city in a few days, but while you’re here, you’ll have somewhere somewhat reliable to stay at." Again, tension. But this time surrounding another name. Wayne. He made sure to make note of the shit he needed to search up once he had access to the Internet. Plus, the hero seemed pretty damn sure about Peter not being able to handle this city. He needed to know why.
“Um..sure, thanks.” His immediate agreement seemed to relax the vigilante.
They went down the fire escape after checking that no one was in the alleyway after Peter told him about the clowns. The hero seemed to have his guard wayyy up after that, which was understandable to Peter since those weirdos were nothing less than creepy.
The Hood led him through the streets, sticking to the more shadowy parts of sidewalks while Peter walked beside him, not caring that he was more visible. You’d think with all his experiences as Spider-man, he’d have more common sense (he does).
He wasn’t exactly surprised when his Spider sense kicked up a notch, warning him of the danger coming from behind him. He looked in the direction of the hero hidden in the shadows, wondering if he’d noticed yet. He made sure to look harmless and as if he didn’t know about the guys coming closer behind him, shoving his hands in his pockets. Closer and closer and…
“What’s a lil’ kid like you walking at night all alone?” The voice was disturbing in a ghoulish kind of way, followed by the press of a barrel of a gun against his head, making the scene a bit surreal. Before he could even blink, a gun was getting cocked and aimed at the attacker, of course, coming from the shadows.
“Alone? Mmh, I don't think so.” Hood's voice was heard as he stepped out of the shadowy sidewalk, making Peter wonder how the hell one could so easily blend into the dark like that. He heard the man behind him curse, the other two that were with him having already ran away. Sooo, Hood was definitely a feared figure around here.
“Here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna get the fuck out of here and hope to hell I dont find you when I’m done with this. If I do, I’ll cut your fucking nads off before blowing your head into lil’ bits. Cool? It'll be like a funner version of hide and seek.” Peter could literally hear the man gulp nervously before running away, most likely pissing his pants.
What was Peter’s reaction? His jaw was hanging again, wide eyes on the um…well, it felt weird to call him a hero. The Hood didn’t look back at him, just continued to walk towards the shelter. It took a few moments for Peter to get his bearings before following him again. This guy kind of reminded him of Deadpool.
It didn’t take too long to get to the shelter, which Peter now knew was named Martha’s Hope Shelter. Peter’s thoughts directly went to the F.E.A.S.T organization that May worked at. Where he first met the Goblin. He shook away those thoughts before they could lead to another panic attack, looking at the vigilante next to him instead.
“Uh..Thanks for like saving my ass back there and for bringing me here.”
“No sweat, Peter. I come here after almost every patrol so you might see me lurkin’ around sometimes. If you need anything, you can come ask me or any of the staff here. Don’t worry, they’re the good ones.”
Peter nodded, somehow feeling awkward. He looked back at the building and started walking towards it before a thought suddenly made him stop and face the vigilante again.
“What’s your name? I mean, not your like actual name or anything, of course, but- what do people call you?”
“Red Hood.” Peter swore he could hear a smile in his voice.
Peter thought the name was fitting, if not a bit basic, but oh well.