The Good Samaritan
It was a few days until Christmas and Peter was back to his patrolling, this time with a suit of his literal own hand making. If it looked festive, it was a simple happy coincidence, but the stretch fabric from the figure ice skating suits he’d cut through to make his own were thermal (and flashy), and would allow for a wide range and variety of movement while maintaining his body temperature mostly intact. Win-win situation.
That and also, uplifting holiday spirits for himself and all. He thought of adding a Santa hat to his patrolling uniform for the time being, but then reconsidered. How menacing and threatening would that look to the jolly bank robbers of the season? The flashy suit would have to be enough to keep him in the mood, not thinking about how much he’d rather spend these chilly days cuddled up next to MJ, drinking May’s hot chocolate and watching Die Hard with Ned, one of their official Christmas movies. Nope.
This particular night, so far, and thanks to enough radio tinkering leading to him managing to get a connection to police airwaves on his one still functioning airpod, he was able to stop two breaking and enterings, retrieve one stolen car, help a middle-aged man get into his building after locking himself outside and breaking his own key card, find a six year old hiding from his nanny that had her so freaked out she resorted to calling the cops (he was inside the washing machine wearing his “invisibility cloak”), and honestly by sheer dumb luck, he spotted and stopped two guys from stealing two bikes on two separate occasions.
A calm, productive night if he had to label it. No, really: calm. No shootings, no preventable deaths, no rushing, no drama, no blood, no beatings, and most importantly, no having to sew up the suit at the end of the day. It was hard to believe. Not exactly how Manhattan behaved. He knew if he were back in Queens right about now his night would’ve gone way differently.
But now that he wasn’t technically a student in Midtown High, since they had no record of him, he could stay on this side of the East River; distance himself from the physical memories of who he wasn’t anymore, of all the people who didn’t recall all their years of banter together, of the cemetery where Ben and May’s graves were. He wouldn’t be able to function as Spider-Man with the constant reminder of everything he’d lost. He figured this way it would be easier to move on. For now.
He touched down not far from where he’d left his bag webbed up, his spidey senses having picked up something close.
“Peter!” Guess that was something. He turned to the voice trying to find the speaker. How- Who would know…, how could anyone know…? “Thank God, Peter. Where the hell have you been?!” He heard the distinct clackity-tap of someone rushing in heels towards him, and soon he saw a woman come out of the shadows, half walking-half jogging his way. “I’ve been walking around for hours trying to find you. You have some explaining to do.”
He was dumbfounded at the realization of how threatened he was finding himself feeling before this stranger, who apparently knew his identity. Did the spell not work on whoever this rando was? The worst part was, she might know who he was, but he didn’t have a clue who this person could be- Wait a minute. Hadn’t he found himself in a similar situation a handful of times three weeks ago after one initial spell courtesy of one Dr. Strange? Scratch that. Before then, literally the whole world knew who he was, and.. well he didn’t know the whole world. This could very well be any pedestrian-
“Did you really just leave me at the Paramount Building after I helped you take down Max? Because let me tell you, for someone who made such a fuss about not wanting me to move to London not more than probably TWO HOURS AGO, leaving me to wake up ON THE FLOOR is NOT the move, Peter! What the hell!”
His eyes widened under the mask. She was looking for another Peter. The Peter who had lost his MJ. “Gwen.” he muttered to himself as he remembered what he’d called her. How- again- was this even possible?
As she got closer and closer her mean decisive prowl turned into a more tentative slow walk. She was now apparently able to see him better cause she skulked very slowly and warily towards him, a hand slightly stretched out towards him -maybe to secure some distance between them and point at him in the same motion.
"You.. look shorter.” she said giving him a once over, taking another slow step “Bug boy, take that off, will you? What in the hell is going on Pet-" he yanked the mask off and she stumbled backward, hand flying to cover her mouth and stifle a yelp, the other hand on her chest "Who.. what's.. where's- where's Pe- who are you!?"
"You must be Gwen." Peter said, slowly reaching out to her, to which she immediately stepped back, retreating both hands close to herself in a jerky motion "hey, it's okay. I'm Peter Parker too." she shook her head fast "I- I think I know the Peter you're looking for, though."
At that, her shoulders dropped a bit and she started to slowly approach him. The tentative tapping of her heels on the asphalt as she inched closer suddenly making him feel very self aware of how, regardless of being just the two of them in this dark alley at the moment, his face, the one damned thing that brought so much misery to everyone around him by simple association, to the point where he’d resorted to letting a sketchy wizard have him be erased from their collective memory to improve their quality of life, or just give them a chance at a normal one, and as a bonus not have the entire world rioting outside his very own window…, his very problematic face was out there for any passerby to see. He couldn’t stop his twitching fingers as he fumbled nervously with the fabric of the mask between his hands.
Once she got close enough for Peter to see the spot of dried blood on her dark blouse's collar, she haunched just the tiniest bit to be at eye level with him, inspecting his face and features. She wasn't a girl, she was a young woman, to Peter she looked to be around her late twenties. She was insanely beautiful nevertheless. It took him entirely by surprise when he felt her hands splayed with a splat all over his face; her cold fingers started probing at his eyebrows, poking at the flesh of his cheeks and stretching his lips open, pond green eyes scanning in disbelief. "This is remarkable. You're Spider-Man too?"
Peter awkwardly smiled and took a few tentative steps backward, trying to get some distance between his aching face and her ridiculously cold fingers without offending her. She looked him up and down as she began to circle around him "but, wait a minute. You're just a child! I mean, how do I know this isn’t a Halloween costume?"
"I'm seventeen."
"Well, someone should've told your GHB receptors." he heard her mumble with a snort as she leaned down to inspect his suit. Apparently, it didn't take that much of a reaction from Peter for her to retract herself, somewhat. "I'm sorry, that was extremely rude. I don't even know you- it's just, you're a bit short, that's all.. I'm sorry."
"Oh, come on! I'm not- You- okay, you're wearing heels."
"I am? Oh, look at that! I am. I'm wearing heels. Why, do you wanna borrow them?"
Peter blinked at that.
"Shit. Again. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I'm snapping at you like this. You're just a baby! So uncool to antagonize a baby… Crap, sorry again."
"..That's okay. Are- hey, are you okay?"
She sighed trying to reign in on her exasperation, covering her eyes with her right palm, using her left to support herself on her hip. Inhaling she let the hand on her face snake upward and, in an apparent effort to calm herself she used her fingers to comb through her blond, almost white locks, jerking her head to the side to fix her bangs. She had a more composed air to her now, as she also seemed to fix the lapels of her coat, which seemed one size too small on her. "Where is Peter? Can you take me to him? I've been wandering around this strange.. version of New York where no one seems to be able to just TELL ME what in the world happened to the Oscorp Tower and- I'm just exhausted."
"Okay, that's perfectly understandable. Let's start by getting out of this alley, okay? Want a coffee?"
"A coffee?" She chuckled, warm and raspy, yet the glint of mischief in her eyes was wearing off, taking its place was one of weariness."Can't you just take me to him?"
He considered his options. She really did look terribly tired. And if he were going to try and explain the situation, he couldn't really do it in a public place, no matter how much he wanted to use the excuse to go to the shop MJ worked at just on the off chance that he might find her still working. He knew she’d been taking double shifts lately, probably saving up some extra money for the dorm's deposit for the upcoming year at MIT.
He saw Gwen rub at the back of her neck and felt the contents of his stomach freeze. She- had she just died? Peter knew the answer to that. It was the same as with all the rest, their natural bodies kept aging past their death point. Well, of course, he had no absolute way of knowing that, other than assumptions based on a few comments exchanged amongst the now healed bunch of then bickering and spiteful superpowered/ technologically enhanced/ well, insane individuals. This woman was -most likely- a girl like him a few hours ago. A long day indeed.
"Here's my counteroffer: we can go to my apartment and, no no," yeah, he had to admit that sounded shady as Gwen squinted at him, head tilting and mouth shifting into a sour pout, barely holding in the defensive argument "it's okay. I'm another harmless, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, alright? You've met a Spider-Man, you've met them all." That seemed to slightly put her at ease. Very slightly.
"..right."
Of course, strange dude wearing flashy spandex asks a girl in an alley to come to his place in the middle of the night. Doesn't matter how old you are, who you claim to be nor whatever dimension you came from, that's never an offer you take up without impeccable reasoning behind it.
"I'll explain everything once we're there. You know, people eavesdrop out in the open in public places cause, hey, it's New York City! And, listen I know. I get that you sure have reservations about coming with right now but I can't tell you what's going on out here because.. it's a long story but I went to excruciatingly great and painful lengths to make sure my identity remains a secret and I have to be stupid careful now so to be certain that it wasn't all in vain and, ma'am, I'm not about to have it go to waste now-"
"Right, yeah. Okay, okay, I get it, we'll go-... Did you just call me ma'am?"
Peter tried to suppress a cheeky grin while Gwen's defiant smile widened "oh, it's on, frog-eating fetus" okay, Peter was definitely not expecting that one. He let out a laugh, the type he didn’t know he was capable of anymore. He laughed for real for what felt like the first time in weeks. God, it was like drinking a fresh glass of water after a drought.
"Okay uh-" He cleared his throat and tried to look composed and over it. Where the hell did the frog-eating part come from? Jesus. He swallowed an incoming fit of giggles and shook his head. Right, situational awareness, come on.
He thought for half a minute about swinging them both to his apartment but for some reason he just- he could see how skittish she was and he didn't think she'd be comfortable having to hold on to him, her junior three times over and not her own Spider-Man who she missed and loved and had died in the arms of. Yeah.., no, they'll walk.
"Give me a minute, alright? I left my bag webbed up a few blocks down the road..” he promptly fitted the mask over his head and relished in the comforting security of having the tight fabric hugging his face again. Ah, anonymity, old friend “I'll be right back."
He skipped for a few steps backward before yanking himself towards a street lamp and slinging his way through the busy streets, miraculously managing to not get hit by an oncoming bus while dodging a cyclist that had stopped in his tracks to try and take a picture of him. When he got back to the alley he'd left Gwen in he found her sitting on a step with her heels off and her light blueish coat draped over her knees, even though it was the dead of winter at the time. She looked up at him as he started to pull clothes from the bag.
"Okay, I didn't always go to midtown, so I didn't know Peter when he was this young-looking." Peter tried to follow along as he shuffled into his long-sleeved shirt and sweatshirt at the same time. "Is there a chance.. okay, bear with me, I know what this might sound like." He jumped into his jeans one leg at a time as he managed to web his slightly oversized shoes to the floor so he could step into them in a swift motion. "In fact, I actually moved into NYC from Toronto at fifteen.." Peter knew where this was going. He tied his shoes up and after kicking backward with both feet to release his soles from the asphalt he padded himself around to make sure none of his suit was visible from underneath the street clothes before approaching Gwen.
"We're not in the past. It's about to be 2024."
Her cat eyes widened, and her jaw went slack "What in the- What?! How is that even possible??!" She hissed standing up with a scandalous jump.
"So no, I'm not your Peter but younger, much as I'd like that." He heard himself a bit muffled and remembered he had the mask still on. He yanked it off once more and stuffed the crumbled-up thing into the bag before zipping it up and slinging it over his shoulder. Now he probably looked like your average stressed Senior year student. Which was accurate.
She looked a bit discouraged at both his answer and the fact that, once again, the only face she was gonna find under the mask was his and not her Peter’s "but.., how can you be sure?"
"I'll tell you all about it when we get to my place. Come on."