i take a step on the pavement, making sure not to tread over any cracks. i keep my eyes nailed to the floor. there's no more point of looking up at people who now have never heard of my existence. i bump into a few people and mumble a small apology before going on with my day.
my useless day.
who am i now?
once again, i find myself in front of mj's cafe. my mj. my mj whom i promised to protect with my life. she was my mj, my girl, and i miss her more than anything, yet i have no regrets about what i done. it was necessary to wipe peter parker from everybody's memory.
more often than not, i see ned sitting in the cafe waiting for mj's breaks so they could talk and laugh and have fun and love. sometimes, i go into the cafe too. not with them though. i go in by myself, sit far away so it isn't suspicious, but close enough to be able to hear their voices again, and i'll leave by myself as well. perhaps this is unhealthy. maybe i should try to forget them and move on. but, how could i? all i've ever known is their laughter and their joy? when all i've ever known is mj's loving touches and ned's cheery hugs.
i won't go in today.
i turn the other way, stepping on the pavement; i don't care if i step over any cracks.
i make my way to my small apartment as i shove my hands in my jacket pockets. the late november chill feels unnerving as it breezes against my pale skin. the walk home isn't a long one, but feels never-ending as i think about seemingly nothing. what was there to think about anyway?
i could feel the light snow drizzling onto my hair. i ignored it, because all that snow reminded me of was aunt may and all the fun times we used to spend out in the cold together.
i could deal with missing mj and ned because i knew they were still alive, and safe, and doing well.
aunt may, however, was a different story.
after she passed, it was like the world had deafened - everything had an odd sort of discolouration to it and nothing was as bright as it once seemed to be. i watched her die, watched her last moments and listened to her last words.
how was it fair she got taken from me?
i ignore the fact that i could feel tears in my eyes. i blink them away harshly and sniffle.
after a particularly hard day at school, aunt may was the one who got me going once again. she was like my mum. she was the sole reason i continued fighting some days when all seemed miserable.
like when i lost the stark internship; it was may who told me it wasn’t the end of the world, and to go to homecoming. (even if that ended up being a disastrous mess as well).
i go to her grave quite often. it was nice she got buried next to uncle ben. i like to think that they hold each other whilst watching over the world and all those they once loved so dearly.
i like to think that they watch over me especially.
out of everyone i lost that day - aunt may is the one i miss the most; like a visceral ache that pierces through me. i miss her so much.
some days it’s hard to find the strength and the motivation to continue. wouldn’t it be simpler to stop caring?
i have to force myself to push those thoughts away, because even though i felt unwanted as peter peter: i still had a duty of care to the city as spiderman.
after i got dr strange to erase peter parker from everyone’s memories, i realised that it didn’t necessarily entail people forgetting about my other persona - spiderman. and i owed it to the people of queens, to help them.
“why are you doing this?” tony asks as he takes a comfortable seat on peter’s bed, “i gotta know, what’s your m.o - what gets you out of that twin bed in the morning?”
“because,” peter hesitates as he plays with his hand. he struggles to voice the words out loud to mean what he wants to say.
“because i’ve been me my whole life, and i’ve had these powers for six months.” tony gives a small mumble in response, sort of intrigued as to what this kid’s answer may be. “i read books, i build computers, and yeah, i would love to play football - but i couldn’t then, so i shouldn’t now.”
tony nods, “sure, ‘cause you’re different.”
“exactly. but i can’t tell anyone that, so i’m not.” he looks away for a moment and sighs as he slumps back a bit more. “look; when you can do the things that i can, but you don’t…”
tony keeps an interested gaze on peter as he leans forward.
“…and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.”
peter reminisces to that time, when life was so much simpler. he lived with his aunt may, got invited on missions occasionally and his only job was to look out for the little guy.
his job wasn’t to bring in different peter parkers from different universes and then fight all the villains.
that wasn’t his job.
that wasn’t what he signed up for.
but, thinking back to that time, he supposes he misses mr stark just as much. the man was practically an idol for him, and once tony knew of his existence, they ended up working together a good few times in order to the save people, and even the world. and mr stark was so, so special. and not just because he was iron man, but because he was so smart, and so talented, and funny, and amazing, and so very cool.
as long as tony lived, he was the guiding star of a whole brave nation, and when he died the little children cried in the streets, mourning his name.
was it fair to take absolutely everything from peter?
he pauses in the middle of the desolate street and takes a small glance at what was around him.
these people did not know him.
he could recite the paths of queens like the back of his hand, yet nobody knew he was even from here. as far as they were all concerned; he was a foreigner. a stranger.
"who's peter parker? "
how could he begin to explain that he recognised all these faces yet not one person could recite his name?
a few months ago, spiderman had the whole city in the palm of his hands - now he had nothing.
he continues walking. he wasn't even real, so why was he blocking the streets where real people tread.
he was almost haunting in a way. he was like a ghost. he didn't really exist, nor was he truly real.
soon enough, he found his way back to his apartment. he turned to key and entered, without taking a second thought. he didn’t want his neighbours seeing him in such a distressed state. he was rained upon, had red puffy eyes and a sullen expression.
he’s careful to lock the door behind him as he kicks his shoes off and removes his jacket.
he had only gotten this apartment a little while ago, so the inside was still quite bare. he makes his way to his bedroom; deciding to skip lunch. he didn’t need it that badly anyway.
however, upon entering his room, he’s greeted with a small robot. a small robot he had never seen before. it seemed to look quite torn apart and melancholic… if robots could even feel melancholic that is.
“what the hell…?” he mumbles, which seems to catch the robot’s attention as it whisks his small frame to face peter. the robot whirs happily as it begins circling around peter merrily, creating a lot of noise.
“what- who-?” peter wasn’t even sure how to address the robot or what to ask it first. finally he settled on an easy enough question. “what are you doing here?”
the robot whirs happily as he circles around the table before dashing to the other room in the bare flat. peter lets out a loud groan. he just wanted one peaceful evening to himself - was that too much to ask?
the seventeen-year-old follows the robot into the living room. however, with the way peter had left it empty, and without any decorations, you wouldn’t have even been able to tell it was the living room. after all, all that was there was a ratty mattress on the floor in place of a sofa. he’d been telling himself for weeks now to buy himself proper furniture so he wouldn’t have to settle on sitting on the mattress, cross-legged, whilst having no source of entertainment.
he shook those thoughts away for now. one thing at a time, he reminded himself.
“spiderman.” the voice shook peter as he quickly whipped his head upwards to look at whoever just spoke. he could retrace that voice… that faint smirk that he could hear very vaguely.
“what…” peter paled instantly.
”mr stark…?”