something was… wrong. he couldn’t tell what exactly yet, but matt was sure of it. something was missing. there was this emptiness rested in his mind and heart and it was tearing him apart. he couldn’t figure it out for the life of him and it was killing him.
peter ambled along the streets of hell’s kitchen alone in the middle of the night. ever since that spell, life has been kind of okay. no one remembered him. it was fine. he was fine. none of it mattered anyway. ben ad died a long time ago, may a few years later, and gwen… he shook his head not to think about her. he redeemed himself. he saved peter one’s mj.
the only thing eating him up inside was matt. his matt. the devil of hell’s kitchen. he doesn’t remember him.
now, peter can’t even go back to his apartment. not as himself, anyway. daredevil knows spider-man. matt knows spider-man. but he doesn’t know who’s behind the mask. he doesn’t know peter.
he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a picture. it was him and matt before everything went up in flames. it was him, his arm wrapped around matt, face all scrunched, and matt pressing a kiss to his cheek. they were all smiles. peter remembers taking the picture. it’s the only one he has left. so he carries it with him always. he hopes that one day he’ll have a chance to take at least one more.
peter rubbed the edges of the photo. he bit his lips and fought back some tears before replacing it in his pocket. as he took a step forward, he looked up and stopped. daredevil was perched on the roof of the building he was stood in front of.
“spidey?” the masked man spoke. he dropped down from the building. it was late enough that no one was out, and matt couldn’t sense another person for miles.
“hey, devil.” his voice almost broke. this is the first time he interacted with matt or daredevil since the spell.
“been a while. everything alright?” he knew matt could sense the emotional wreckage rolling off of him.
“yeah, yeah. all good. been sick, is all.” he waved a hand dismissively.
matt looked unconvinced even with the mask on. “okay.” he never really was one to pry before finding out who peter is.
“how-how’s tonight been? busy?” peter cleared the lump out of his throat.
“alright. better, now that you’re here.” he smiled. peter returned a broken one knowing it would go unseen. matt’s smile fell, sensing something was way worse than the web-slinger was letting him believe. “hey, you sure you’re alright? i’ve always got an ear if you need to get something off your chest.” he placed a comforting hand on peter’s shoulder. it was shrugged off almost immediately.
“im good. not tonight, man. thanks, though.” tears were welling in his eyes again and he needed to get away from matt now. needed to get air to breathe right. “see ya around, devil.” his voice finally cracked on the last word and he turned and swung away as quick as he could. he couldn’t let matt sense his tears falling. couldn’t let him sense the longing rolling off him in waves for the man that doesn’t even remember his name.
but matt could sense it, of course he could. it was like a tsunami crashing against him, all the emotions coming from the spider. he tilted his head, a deep frown setting in. he just wanted to know what had his friend feeling this way. spider-man was one of the only people left in this world that matt felt he could trust, and it seemed like he was avoiding him. that unsettled him. maybe the other felt he could no longer trust the devil, which matt hadn’t intended, not in the slightest. determination settled in. he was going to get his web-shooting friend back.
maybe it would help the void he was feeling in his chest, too.
peter swung until he was out of hell’s kitchen. swung until he couldn’t breathe anymore. he was hyperventilating on a roof somewhere in queens and he was crying and shaking and couldn’t breathe. that was his first time around matt in months and it was such a brief moment, and this is how his body reacted? he was fucked. he was a wreck. how would he ever get his matt back if he couldn’t bare to be around him without his heart leaping into his throat and choking him. he couldn’t do this. he missed his apartment. he missed his bed. he missed his matt. he collapsed on the roof, body finally giving out. he’d been up for days without sleep and this emotional turmoil took all of his energy. peter just laid there on the random new york roof, waiting for sleep or death to consume him. he’d be fine with whichever at this point.
“spidey. spider. web-head. wake the fuck up.” someone was kicking him. correction. matt. matt was kicking him. he shot awake and jumped to the other side of the building. “hey, hey, hey,” he put his hands up in surrender. “sorry. you seemed kinda off last night. just wanted to check on you.”
“i-i-i’m fine. i’m alright.” peter ran his hands over his face. “like i said, i haven’t been feeling well.”
“you passed out on a roof. i’m just worried.” peter then realized the sun was just coming up. it’d only been a few hours. matt had gone home and changed into his old black suit. hopefully he got a few hours of sleep. the lawyer didn’t sleep well without peter before.
god, peter really couldn’t do this right now. he’d already lost gwen, he can’t- he can’t do this. he couldn’t get air in his lungs fast enough. “spidey?” matt approached slowly. peter could hardly care, all he wanted was to be able to breathe. “hey, webs. look at me.” he quickly pulled his mask off. peter saw his face. his full face. and everything just… stopped. his heart, his mind, his breathing.
“matt.” it came out as hardly a whisper. as a breath of air that restarted his lungs.
“yeah. it’s matt.” he gently touched peter, like he knew that was okay. like he’d done this before. the other’s hands came up and touched matt’s face. “and you’re-“
memories came flooding back. it was like a punch in the face and the gut and anywhere else. peter. this is peter.
“peter.” the web-slinger finished.
“yeah. yeah. peter. parker. peter parker.” the awe in matt’s voice nearly stole peter’s breath again.
“you-“
“peter. pete. i-“ matt was in tears. his heart felt whole again. the emptiness he’d felt for all those months, gone. peter. he was his missing piece. “how did i- how-“
“you forgot about me. it-it’s not your fault. there was this-this spell and-and-and everyone forgot me. everyone.” he cupped matt’s cheeks. oh god, he missed this. “it’s okay. i’m here.” matt was crying now. how could he have forgotten his love? how could he have forgotten peter?
“i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry.” he apologized over and over in peter’s arms, unable to form any other words. peter wiped away his tears.
“it’s okay, it’s okay.” he shushed him and held him, running his fingers through his hair. he pressed firm and reassuring kisses to the lawyer’s forehead. “we’re okay now. let’s go home.”
they walked. peter was in civilian clothes and matt’s were inconspicuous enough that it was okay. walking gave them more time to talk. to talk about the last three months without each other, fill each other in. matt spoke of work - what he could share anyway - and peter told of his rendezvous in another universe. matt couldn’t believe what he heard, but he did all the same, because it was peter, and peter never lied.
“you know, i have this-this picture of us. in my pocket. i carried it with me everywhere since i took it.” peter confessed. “remember the night we decided to take off? leave the vigilante stuff to the other guys? and we stayed in, listened to records. you cooked. we danced.” matt smiled at the memory.
“the night you said ‘i love you’ for the first time.” matt squeezed peter’s hand in his.
the brunet nodded, smiled. “yeah. it’s from that night. my favorite night.”
“can i see it?” peter looked at him, matt sensed. “i meant hold it, dumbass.” he shoved him, a chuckle escaping his throat. peter laughed.
“of course, my love.” he handed him the picture.
“this is- very worn down.” matt rubbed it between his fingers gently so as not to ruin it. “feels more like some type of fabric than a photo.” he handed it back to peter.
“yeah. yeah. got me through a lot these past few months.” he smiled at it in his hands. comfortable silence took over them as they walked.
“so like. did you keep it in your mask like soldiers kept pictures of their wives in their helmets?”
“you son of a bitch.”