Didn’t I?

He decided not to make contact with MJ and Ned. Not after all the trouble and pain he caused them. He saw the scar MJ had and just couldn’t follow through. He’d rather suffer alone than bring any more pain into his friends lives. He takes the coffee Mj gives him with a smile and takes off to his apartment.

It’s been a month. Since everything. He’s the only person in the world who remembers the actual truth about the events that passed and it freaks Peter out every time he thinks about it.

Its winter now. Peter landed a job at a grocery store near delmars. Hes finishing off his senior year. Now 18. His own apartment. A legal adult. His apartments not as nice as his old one with aunt May, but it’s nice for New York on a grocery clerks paycheck. He got access to his parents savings account a couple months ago, he didn’t really have to dig into it until now.

It wasn’t a crazy amount of money but it was enough to help pay the rent. And that was the only thing Peter intended to use the money for.

It was snowing. Sometimes he let himself stare out into the snow falling, think about the last year. May. Mysterio, green goblin, the peters.
He felt himself drift off into the memory, the memory of things actually going right in his plan to “fix” the villains. The things the peters bonded over. The common struggle of being Spider-Man and the responsibility that comes with it.

He suddenly remembered the weird thing Peter #2 said before #3 spotted a villain coming. How did he know Tony? Peter never mentioned his name to them, and they said they didn’t even HAVE an avengers on their worlds so how would he even know??

Peter drops the thought as he hears his alarm go off on his busted phone again. He drags himself outta bed to the shower, quickly washing his body and shampooing his hair. The bathroom was small, with barely any space between the shower curtains and the sink. Toilet confined to a small corner. At least it was private though. It was 6 am, he picked up an early shift at the market place he works at and picked up a pizza delivery shift in the afternoon.

It was winter break, 2 and a half weeks of- work. Peter couldnt afford to spend his money on the old gels and concoctions he used to put in his hair, now the only thing he’s able to put in his hair is the 7 dollar jar of coconut oil he got from Walmart. It did the job but it made peters hair 3x more curly than before. Peter himself was surprised by the amount of curls in his hair now.

He gave up trying to style the unruly hair and headed out, changed into a black crewneck with the puffer jacket he wore to aunt mays grave on top. He put on a beanie, hoping to hide the unruly hair inside of it, but the ends of his curly hair poked out from underneath the beanie all around.

He went straight for the stairs, pocketing his wallet, keys and phone before he left. Halfway through the door, before going back and grabbing his backpack that had his school material in it and hidden in a secret pocket, his spider suit.

He quickly slung it over his shoulder, locking his door, and ran down the buildings stairs.

He’s on the road now, biking down the road towards the market before he’s late. It’s different, biking down the street and seeing people your recognize. People you would say hi to and make occasional small talk, just completely ignore your existence when you pass them on the street. It’s lonely.

He barely even got his market job, but he’s so glad for the opportunity to actually get a job. Its a pain in the ass to get a job when everyone forgets your name, but atleast his credentials still apply. Forgotten, but they couldn’t delete peters grades.

He liked his job despite the minimum wage and hours that seem to go on for years on some days, it’s nice to actually have people around him that know his name, acknowledge him.

He gets there right on time, clocking in, saying hi to his boss, an old guy with slicked back white hair, and headed off to man the register. It was a small shop, on the opposite corner of delmar’s. The boss was nice and his other co worker, Jennifer, was nice, she would save him from troublesome customers and always smiled at him when their eyes met. She spoke Spanish too, so whenever she had time she would teach Peter a couple phrases.

The shift was long and boring but it was nice being around people, distracting himself. Everything was still pretty new to him but he felt like he was adjusting okayly into his new life.

Work had been taking up most of peters thoughts, school, work, Spider-Man, school work, Spiderman. He mourned May everyday, but that was a constant. He didn’t have to start thinks about May for the feeling of emptiness to settle in deep in his chest and heart.

He was standing behind the register, waiting for whoever wanted to make any purchases come as he fidgeted with a pen, twirling it round between his fingers. His thoughts strayed.

Strayed to the night peter let May die. The night he killed May. The days he was selfish.

Why was he even alive? May should’ve survived, he should’ve been the one to die. He should’ve been the one that got snapped away. He should’ve stayed dead, yes, aunt May would’ve mourned but at-least she would’ve still been alive. What was the point of doing any of this Anyways? To save people as Spider-Man? Save the people who hated, despised him still. The people who wouldn’t even let him touch them when he came to their rescue.

He could die now. And nobody would know. Nobody would care. Nobody would come to check on him, he’d be forgotten. He was already forgotten. He had nobody who loved him. He had nobody to love. He didn’t think he could try to make any new relationships between anyone again because of the barrier that has built up around him.

Everyone else seemed so far away. He could be standing and talking to someone during class. Chatting, laughing politely at some jokes, but it wouldn’t be real. He knew something they didn’t. Before it was just his secret identity that he had to distance himself from people, now his own, normal, everyday person was a persona now. He wasn’t himself.

He hated himself, hated his actions, hated his selfishness, hated he loved still. Hated hated hated hated hated hated hated.

He killed, he murdered. He deserved to die, really. He deserved it. He wanted to die. He wanted to die.

No he didn’t. No. Maybe he didn’t want to die, but it’s what should’ve happened a long time ago. He deserved it. It’s rightfully his duty, he should kill himself. Do this world a favor and kill hims-

“Excuse me?”

Peter jumped at sudden customer.

“Y-yes?” Peter eyes met the face of a burnt looking face, hairless and shaded with a hoodie covering most his face. Peters eyes were red rimmed, nose red from the cold, beanie still on.

Peter eyes met the other man’s and the man immediately looked away, mumbling something about being ready to buy his stuff.

Peters face immediately brightened with understanding. “Oh- I’m sorry, Got distracted.” Peter set his pen down and began checking out the items that were placed next to the scanner.

“Should you be day dreaming on the job?”

Peter smirked at his hands as he continued scanning the man’s things.

“No, but it shouldn’t be a problem as long as my boss doesn’t know. you gonna tell my boss?”

Peter stole a glance at the man’s face, peters smirk still plastered on his face. Wade Wilson. Deadpool. Peter remembered being warned about the mercenary after telling Tony about a run in he had with the guy. He was a weird dude most the time, hitting on him, in the suit.

But outside the suits a different story Peter noticed. Peter, semi smug in knowing he was in the presence of Deadpool without the other man knowing. it’s not like wade tries to keep his identity a big secret, but still fun to acknowledge.

“Scouts honor. I’ll keep it between the two of us.”

Peter chuckled as he entered the prices into the register.

“Your totals 33.35$, scout.”

The hoodie on wades head seems less concealing than before when Wade hands him two twenty dollar bills.

Peter takes the bills and enters them into the register, taking out the correct change and hands them back to wade.

Wade stops his hand and pushes it back to him. “Keep it, a tip from one scout to another. buy yourself something nice.”

Peter watches the rough hand that’s touching his for a moment before he smiles at wade, taking the money and pocketing it.

“How generous of you to let me pocket 6 precious dollars!”

Peter says as he begins bagging wades items.

“Hey, what can I say? I’m just a generous guy.”

“And a humble one at that.” Peter adds.

Peter smiles at wade as he makes the statement, handing him his two bags.

“Have a nice day.” Peter says to wade, smiling still.

Wade smiles back, pearly whites showing,

“You too… peter?”

Peter slightly flinches at the name but smiles again in seconds.

“Peter, yeah. Shop with us again, scout.”

“Is that an order?”

“Sure is.” Peter says smiling, again.

They say their goodbyes, and Peters left feeling slightly good about the interaction. Peter leans against the counter behind him, fidgeting with the pen again. His shift ends soon. He should probably at-least pretend to be working for the last 20 Minutes.

2 finally comes around and he takes off on his bike to the pizzeria on the other side of town. The job was simple. Just deliver the pizzas to the right place within 30 minutes. Easy, mindless job, that requires little thought, and little explanation. The pay was average but the tips were the best part.

Peter usually tried to take a Night Shift, but someone took up all the good ones that week. (Nights a good time to deliver cause sometimes people are drunk when they pay, giving the delivery guy a very generous tip)

Peter starts his rounds, mindlessly. Trying not to think. When he does get those snippets of thoughts, he feels a Cloudy sense of depression take over his whole body. He pushes the feeling away as he continues biking around the city.

When his shifts over again, it’s 10pm And peters exhausted. He bikes home and parks his bike in his secret hiding spot(webbed inside a Sewer in an alley way.) once he makes it to his floor, through his apartment door, he collapses onto his bed. It’s not comfortable at all, but it’s a bed.

Peter kicks off his converse, and his puffer jacket all while laying in bed. He’s laying on his back now, huffing. Staring at his ceiling. He’d been holding them back all day, and now that he was back to his apartment, he knew he could let go now.

He moved his knees close to him now, balled up on his side. Laying down. Taking deep breaths. The tears come easily. Almost a routine now. Work, come to the apartment, cry. Again and again. Since a week ago the routine started, and it didn’t look like it was stopping.

It was the 21st of December. A couple days before Christmas Eve. He’ll be alone then. He feels crazy all the time now. Alone and crazy.

Alone crazy.

The worst kind of crazy, peter jokes with himself. He tucks his head in his knees. Weeping quietly. Peter wished for a lot of things now.

He wished aunt May was back, he wished she would burst through his front door, looking for him. Crying when she sets his eyes on him. She would collect him in her arms. She would hold Peter, when he told her about anything and everything. She would hold him and press a comforting kiss on his forehead when he says he loved tony. She wouldn’t judge. She would hold him through it. She’d wipe away his tears.

Peter was selfish. Peter was mean. Peter was cruel. Peter didn’t deserve anything. No friends, no family, no love, nothing. He did deserve to die, to pay for-

Peter quickly got up off his bed, wiping away his tears as he searched through his backpack. He quickly changed out of his clothes into his new suit. Peters new suit being a light shade of metallic looking sky blue and bright red. Peter liked it. He took inspiration from Peter #2 and 3’s spiders on the back and front. The new suit was a slight downgrade, not having any special AI attached to it, but it did feature demos for his new web net, and have some tech in the suit,(as much tech a senior in high school can get his hands on).

He felt his eyes burning as he donned the mask and headed out through the window.

He began to web sling in no direction in particular.

Peter flipped through the air, feeling the cold winter breeze whip past him as he flips over the Rockefeller center. He free falls down to the floor below, barely webbing himself back up before he landed face first into the cement floor. Peter swung up onto one of the tallest buildings around, flipping into landing onto his back on the cement floor. Peter pulled the edge of his mask above his mouth to catch his breath, steam puffing up with each of peters breaths.

He laid there looking up at the dark night sky, watching the snow fall down all around him. So much has happened in such a short amount of time. Felt just like yesterday when May was with Peter and peter was happy. Tony was a call away and happy knew who he was. His friends were there with him. Ready to talk. They were happy.

Selfish.

Peter closed his eyes. Eyes on his suit narrowing significantly. Peters hands interlaced on his chest and peter listened to the sounds around him. Cars, talking, laughing. He took a deep breath of the fresh icy air and relished in the feeling of his lungs feeling the prick of the cold.

He felt it before he saw it. Peter tingle, the tingle more of the buzz you get from excitement rushing through his body. Peter relished in the feeling. His spider sense not really sending danger signals through his body. He laid there feeling the sensation through his body as he opened his eyes and looked above him, to the sky.

A bright light captured his attention, he turned his head upwards, looking at a portal opening. A man walked through. Everything in peters vision being upside down, focused on the shoes of the man instead of anything else. The man kept walking towards peter, stopping a few feet away from Peter.

The shoes were black and sleek, reflecting what little light there was on the roof off of it.
They looked expensive and not at all what he imagined someone who worked for- worked with doctor strange would wear.

Peter assumed the man to come from doctor strange’s background because of the portal and how similar it was to the ones they used. Nothing was said for a moment, while peter still layed on the floor.

“You gonna get up? Cause I could lay down too. You know what, I’ll join you.”

Peters breath caught in his throat. The voice that seemed so familiar. The voice that scolded him when he did something stupid, the voice that he imagined would say I love you too. The voice he lov-

The man shuffled into a sitting position, and leaned back, groaning exaggeratedly as he laid down.

The man folded his hands on top of each other on his chest as he got comfortable on the cement floor.

Peter stared.

“You know, I wouldn’t usually do this kinda thing, you know, getting on the ground and laying on some dirty floor, but I’ll make a exception for you.”

The man spoke, but Peter was too focused on the eyes. The lips, the eyebrows, the hair, the cleanly shaved chin.

Peter exhaled. He must be dreaming.

The man’s head was tilted up aswell, meeting peters gaze.

“It’s nice to meet you, Spider-Man. I’m Tony Stark. I’m gonna ask you a few questions, I’ll be quick so you could get back into your spider business.”

Same tone of voice. Same smell, of motor oil and mint.

“Mr. Stark?” The voice was small and quiet.

Tony’s eyes widened at the boys. He breathed out, leaving a puff of heat, that floated away. Tony smiled wryly as he replied.

“I thought I asked you to call me Tony?”