Burned Hope
Earth-616, 05.12.2024
"May, I'm really trying this Time. I mean, about what you said. I'm trying to use my Powers for the greater Good. I’m sorry I had to realize to late that it WAS my responsibility. I’m trying to be better. The Apartment is great, it's not really spacious but I'm gonna make it work. You would have wanted me to try, to make it into a home."
His Voice trembles and the snow is wetting his knees through the jeans.
Visiting May after Patrol was part of the routine now. Every Night, he would visit her grave and tell her how Patrol was doing. Maybe it was something to keep him sane, something that keeps him going, but it was part of his day now. It felt like the messages he left Happy at the beginning of Spider-maning and a bitter-sweet reminder that he failed her."I wish you could be here, right now May. Happy is really sad that you are gone, he keeps bringing you flowers. I'm sorry that I can't bring you flowers, but I’m tight on the budget at the moment, but I promise I bring you some when I get the money."
He stops for a second, looking up from the ground.
Peter really did wish May was here. She would’ve known what to do. She always knew what to do. Knew how to make Peter feel better, but now he was alone. And May wouldn't make him feel better or safe.
"I don't know what to do May. No one-"
His Voice breaks and a silent sob escapes his lips. Silent tears stream down his face, and he aggressively wipes them away.
Stupid Tears!
Lately, he was even more sensible, but who could judge him for all that have happened?
"No one knows who I am May. Happy, Ned, MJ... They all forgot I exist. Even Doctor Strange! I have no records, no passport. I simply don't exist anymore. May what should I do? How am i supposed to do this without you here?"
Peter was met with Silence, which breaks another sob out of him. He doesn’t really know how long he sits in the cold, but it must’ve been for a long time because when he stands up, he can’t feel his legs.
How should he keep going when there was nothing to keep going forward for?
Earth-1610, 17.12.2026, The Present
Peter feels like all his Hope of finding May is gone when he sees the ruins of his childhood home.
The Apartment had meant a lot to him, even after the Blip he always came back here when he wasn't feeling his best, but now even this small piece of normality was ripped away from him. Memories of May, Ben, and he were buzzing in his mind and a wave of sadness rushed through him. The First Thanksgiving together, the warm fuzzy feeling when they all sat together on the sofa and watched one of Uncle Ben's's goofy series that he just kept on to annoy May, all those happy moments turned into sad ones.
His Hands were shaking, and he felt the cold wet tears behind his mask.
This could not be happening right now.
Peter lands on the ground a few meters away, where the old brick building was once standing. A Flowerbed surrounded the ashes and burned wood. Some Candles were lit, which he thought seemed quite ironic. The buildings near seemed to be fine and still intact.
Where were the people who lived inside it? Were they all dead? Did most of them escape in time? Did May escape in Time? Why didn't this Spider-Man stop it from happening?
His breath was shaky, and he tried to calm himself down, but it seemed impossible. All those unanswered Questions swirled around his mind, and he couldn't stop worrying that maybe, this May also didn't make it.
Peter feels the bile sliding up his throat, gagging while rushing in one of the allies to rip off his mask. The Moment it’s off, the bile leaves his mouth, and he vomits all over the floor. Peter coughs and the smell hits his nose, which makes him dizzy again and the gagging begins all over. He grips one of the garbage containers for some support, but the sour smell makes him vomit again. His eyes water and Peter tries to steady his breath. It took him a moment to realize that he was on the cold Asphalt, hands full of his own vomit.
Peter makes a grimace. He definitely needed to wash up and find a way out of this mess. The Other Strange may know what to do, he thought.
This was it, he would go to Doctor Strange, and he would help him, even if Peter would have to force him. He picked himself off the floor, ignoring how his body resisted, just wanted him to rest, and shot a web at one of the buildings. With one big jump, he was in the air, swinging from one building to another.
At first, everything seemed fine, but the next time he tried to shoot a web, nothing was coming out.
“Fuck!” he yelled, falling at least 15 meters through the air until he hit the ground with a loud thump.
A hot white pain exploded through his body and black dots blocked his vision slowly. He moans in pain when he tries to sit up, the black dots multiplying.
Okay, maybe trying to stand up wasn’t a good idea. Peter closes his eyes for a second to puzzle the pieces together, of what happened until it hits him. His web fluid was out, of course. The fight with Wanda was an unexpected event, so he didn’t really have time to check his web fluid supply.
Peter opens his eyes again, this time his vision is less cloudy, and he can see his surroundings again. A dozen people have him surrounded by now, checking him out and mumbling stuff Peter can’t quite understand.
“Spider-Man?”
One Kid asks him, stepping forward a little. The kid wears glasses, that remind him of the ones, he once had to wear when his vision still sucked. He had freckles all over his face and his front teeth stuck out a little.
The Boy takes his confusion as the opportunity to take a step forward, extending his arm.
“Is that really you?”
The brown-haired kid stretched out his hand.
In his confusion, he just takes the hand the kid offers him. His body aches and everything hurts. His leg shakes, and he begs them to keep up his weight, just for a little longer.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“That’s impossible!”
A Woman squeaked in a high pitched voice that almost hurts his hearing.
“You can’t be here!” she adds.
“That’s right! Are you an imposter? Did Thanos send you?” The Man beside the woman, steps in now too.
Thanos? Peter is just simply confused now, shaking his head, which he shouldn’t have done, because everything gets blurry again, and he stumbles a few steps back, holding his head in his hands.
“Thanos…? What no- “he was interrupted by a new pair of voices.
An old Lady with a funny-looking hat.
“The Boy just fell from a building! He is just a delusional teenager trying to cosplay Spider-Man! Back up you guys! The Poor boy… what’s your name honey? Can I call your parents?”
The Lady steps in, helping him steady himself a little.
“Your suit really looks fabulous, I must admit, but isn’t it way too cold in that thing, my dear?”
Her Hands rub his back, and he shudders by the sudden contact. It’s been a while since someone has touched Peter in a kind way. The only ones touching him in any way, were his enemies, grabbing him by the throat or just simply kicking him in the stomach.
“No, it is quite alright, Ma’am. I’m just gonna walk home!” His steps are shaky, and he wildly gestured around with his hands. “I’m just gonna go! Thank you though!”
Even though everything tells him not to run, to let them care for him (and his body feeling like it would fall apart every second) he leaves.
Walking around in the city in the Spider-man suit wasn't the best experience in his universe, and it seems that here it wasn't any different. The People gave him weird looks, judging him or gasping when they saw him. It even got to the point where people would take pictures of him or stop walking just to look at him. An old Man even told him that it was a great cosplay, but maybe a little too early to wear. He didn't really know what that meant, but before he could ask, the man disappeared into a little dinner.
In the end, he decided that maybe the best option was to change clothes, it was too cold for his self-made Spider-Man Suit anyway, when he wasn't swinging around. In the dumpster, he didn't find much more than worn-down shoes, and a backpack with a little hole on the bottom, so he entered the next second-hand store he found, choosing blue jeans, a sweater that was way too big for him, and a jacket that looked like it could keep him warm for the time being. He dropped the 40-dollar bill he kept in case of emergency while being Spider-man.
The Winter wind blows into his face when he leaves the small store, and he shivers. The sun went down a little while ago and the shop owner was eager to kick him out after purchasing his stuff, he was really lucky that they let him use the restroom because he didn’t want to run around with his own vomit on his hands.
He changes into his new things in a dirty alley, cramming his Suit in the backpack. The hole on the bottom isn’t big enough to let it slip out, but he makes himself a reminder to repair it, as soon as possible. Doctor Stranges home isn’t more than 4 blocks away now, but his stomach growls loud, and he knows he should eat something before he ended up fainting in front of a different Doctor Strange, that maybe wasn’t so nice as his Universe Stephen, besides he needed to eat for his wounds to heal faster.
With his last few dollars, he gets himself a hot dog, he would have loved to go to Delmar’s and get a sandwich but something in him, feared that he might get recognized, or maybe not getting recognized, he wasn’t sure really. His Body thanks him for the meal and the short heat on his fingers feels, amazing. When he is done, he takes a small sip from his water bottle.
Okay, Peter thought. Now I only need to find Doctor Strange, and everything will work out just fine!
It didn’t take Peter long to realize, that not everything seemed to be working out just fine.
He was wandering around Town now for hours and the cold winter night, tired him. Peter didn’t know where he turned wrong, but he was sure that he must’ve been there ages ago.
A frustrated growl escapes his lips.
He wasn’t stupid!
He knew New York. The Map was engraved in his head. He puts out his phone, which he didn’t try to turn on again after it not functioning after the multiverse traveling, still nothing.
He sighs, ripping a little on his hair. Right now he was exhausted, maybe it was because it was dark and not long ago he hit his head pretty bad. Some sleep would probably be a good idea, but he had nowhere to go.
Biting his lip, he started walking again. Maybe he could sleep on a roof? No, he would definitely freeze to death, because of his Spidey genes, even without them, he couldn’t spend a night out in December.
“Hey!” he was interrupted when a voice cut through the darkness.
Peter turns around seeing a man sitting on the ground.
He was wearing worn-down shoes, a ripped big brown jacket and black joggers, in his hands he was holding Papers. His nose was too big for his face, while his brown eyes looked small and covered by his old, wrinkly skin.
“Want one? Only 2 Dollars.”
Peter looked around, was he speaking to him.
“Boy! You want one or not?” His voice is hoarse. “Probably talking to the wrong folks, you look like one of us. Here, sit down and help me with this and you get one for free.”
The Man pointed toward the blanket that was laid on the floor. Peter hesitated. He didn’t know this man, but maybe he could help him find Strange or somewhere to sleep for the night. Helplessly, his gaze wandered around but stopped on the blanket once again. The Man raised a brow at him.
“I don’t have all Day, kid. Sit down or not, it’s your choice. You just look like you could use a hand.”
So, Peter did sit down.
“H-How can I help you, sir?”
“A polite one, huh? I like you!” he laughs deeply, almost coughing.
The old man ruffles his hair. Peter doesn’t really react, until the man gave him a slight slap on the shoulder and placed some fabric in front of him.
“You good with your hands? My jacket got ripped and with the freezing weather we have right now, I need all the warmth I can get, if you know what I mean. Fix it and maybe you can even get something for that hole in you backpack. The shitty free paper you can have too, no one wants it here anyway with all the media.”
Peter grins. “Not a fan of the media, sir?”
The Man just scoffs. “I’m not seeing much of it on the streets, but the nonsense they’re sprouting is unbelievable. They can’t let anyone be. The Daily bugle is the worst of it all. Since Spider-Man…”
The Man stopped talking, looking into the dark night.
“Ah it dosen’t matter, I get angry when I think about! Never mind, just do your job boy.”
So, Peter did, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t curious. The Daily Bugle wasn’t his favorite either. After revealing his identity and ruining not just his life, but the life of his friends and family too, he was pretty much done with it. Jameson must be a dickhead in this Universe too. It didn’t take Peter long to finish the Jacket, so in no time he was finished with his bag too.
“Thank you, Sir!”
The Man made a face waving his hand.
“I must thank you; my eyes are pretty bad; I wouldn’t be able to knit it myself.”
Peter gave him a smile; it was an honest smile.
“Here you go! The Paper is not from today, it’s from a week ago or so, but it seemed like it could offer some money out of it! It’s not everyday that Doctor Strange gets a promotion, huh! Traveling Universes and fighting some Witch must be exhausting, but that Bitch hadit coming.”
Peter's Hands were shaking, he wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold or the fact that on this paper the date was 10.12.2026 and there in the right corner was his Aunt May thanking Spider-Man for everything he had done for the city and that he would never be forgotten. A Yell escapes his lips.
“Spider-Man is dead?!”