Peter Parker of Earth-90214 had no idea what to think of the world he had been thrust into. One moment he was pursuing some gangsters with connections, the next he was slamming into a large electric billboard in the middle of Times Square. The cars and bustling people below were all strange, Peter quickly moving up and out of sight. The cover of night aided in his exploration, soon coming across a neighborhood that was all too familiar. The one house that had been his destination differed from all of the others on the street. An impossibly large group of people were surrounding a woman in the middle, murmuring prayers and words of comfort. It took only a glance to confirm it was a version of Aunt May, the faint trail of tears on her cheeks making his stomach churn. A quick look around into various homes showed the news on large electrical screens.
SPIDERMAN FOUND DEAD. IDENTIFIED AS 26 YEAR-OLD PETER PARKER.
Well, that was...strange.
Honestly, Peter wasn’t sure what to think. In this world, he was dead, a thought that shook him to his core. How many other Peter Parkers had died? How many of them were as young as this one?
No time for those thoughts, they would only continue to derail his mission.
Settling down for a wait, Peter watched as the crowd finally began to disperse into the late hour. May looked absolutely exhausted and burdened, Peter deciding it was time to move. Without a sound, he jumped down from the tree, hands in his pockets as he approached her from behind.
“Please...I wish to be alone.” May sighed when she heard someone approach from behind. “Thank you for all of your kindness, but I would like to be alone…”
“No one should mourn alone.” The person spoke, a hand gently placed on her left shoulder. Turning, May’s eyes widened at the monochrome man that stood beside her, a familiar yet foreign shaped Spiderman mask looking down at her. The two merely looked at each other for a few moments, before the other embraced her. The tears came before May could steel herself, burying her face into the jacket that smelled of rain.
“My boy is gone.” The muffled words hung heavy, Peter sighing as he held her close.
“He will not have died in vain, I promise you that.” Peter spoke finally after some time had passed, some rain beginning to fall around them. May sniffled as she pulled away, allowing herself to be led inside the home that seemed so empty to her now. Taking a breath, she looked at the other, who looked very out of place, yet at the same time looked as if he was home.
“Tell me where you came from.” She said after a moment, her grief starting to turn into resolve. “I want to help.”
“Still a spitfire as ever.” The Spiderman across from her chuckled, shaking his head before producing a pen and paper. “Start from the beginning, tell me everything you knew.”