Chapter Text
When it happened, he wasn’t even in the suit. He was on a grocery run, something he could only afford roughly once a week with the meager amount he made between minimum wage jobs.
Between, as in he had a really hard time holding down a job when he had to run out mid-shift to fight the next big bad, or just not showing because he was too beatdown to even pick himself up off the grimy alleyway he’d found himself collapsing into the night before. And in one special occasion he’d walked straight out the door.
You can probably glean just how big of a dick his boss was for him to justify it given his unfortunate circumstances. That was not a fun week.
But he’d recently started taking pictures for the bugle ( it only cost his soul and dignity, but it paid his rent so it evens out), and the pay was a bit higher then his previous gigs allowing him to (occasionally) afford the finer things, like the little steak sitting beneath the bag of BBQ chips in one of the many grocery bags he was lugging home.
Unfortunately, he still couldn’t afford a car, or door dash, so he was stuck lugging his groceries from the store to the subway, and then the two blocks to his apartment and pray the flimsy plastic held out.
He should really invest in reusable bags, he’s spiderman for goodness sakes. The environment probably falls onto the list of things its his duty to protect. Hm… but can he even afford them?
Whatever, that’s a thought for later Peter, current Peter needs to focus on getting to his apartment before the cartoon of eggs (that he decided to carry without a bag for some godforsaken reason) slips and fall to the cruel, unforgiving concrete. His sticky fingers may have the cartoon, but they didn’t grip the 12 beauties inside, and he couldn’t out himself over eggs. No matter how tempted he’d was (eggs are fucking expensive!), he couldn’t.
Gosh, get your head in the game—
"Peter."
He stopped in his tracks, nearly dropping his precious load, slowly turning to look at who spoke. He hadn’t been Peter in months, maybe there was someone behind him? (even though his Spidey sense told him that there absolutely was not.
A girl with waist long dark green braids leaned against a steer light, staring at him. The golden beads woven into her hair caught the light as she tilted her head at him, a knowing look in her eyes. Peter hasn’t felt this seen in a long time, and its starting to make his skin crawl.
There's no way she knew him, everyone who'd known him had died or forgotten. Strange had made sure of it. So,
"I'm sorry, I think you've got the wrong guy."
"I can assure you Mr. Parker,” his heart skipped a beat at the name he hadn’t heard in months, “I've got the exact right person."
She stepped forwards and grabbed the eggs that, admittedly, had been slipping a bit in his shock, and started walking in the direction he'd been walking, "what are you waiting for? Come along."
Peter took a moment to stare at her. She grinned back. Who was this woman, how did she know who he was?
Was this a trap?
Probably.
Did he really have anything to lose?
… oh, what the hell.
"Um, okay my buildings at the end of the block." Him have anything left to lose? Yeah right.
He’ll just follow the woman in the green, green dress and hope it doesn’t leave him dying in a dumpster. Again (no, he doesn’t want to talk about it).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~line break~~~~
He’d gotten to his apartment with the strange woman, and put his groceries away (fret not, the eggs were uncracked, and the steak was resting in the fridge to be eaten after… whatever was happening).
Now they sat at his crappy dumpster table barley big enough for two people (it not like anyone came over anyways), with cups of tea.
He hadn’t really ben a tea drinker before, May had always been able to afford to keep the apartment well heated, and Tonys lab was always cozy. But half the time he could barley afford his rent, so the cheap tea the kind lady on the corner of 8th makes and sells was a solution that doubled to help avoid the rumble of his stomach on bad days.
His spider DNA heavily protests both predicaments, but without a GED (he quickly found he had no time to attain one when he was struggling to get by and be spiderman) or even a real form of identification, it was a sad reality he was going to be stuck in for a while if not the rest of his life.
But let's ignore this sad reality and get back to the strange woman sipping tea across from him. Honestly, he’d been a bit lonely, so even if this ended with his face beat in, he could appreciate the company for now.
“I think it’s time you explain how you know my name,” it’s not on his forged birth certificate or ID’s, at the time it felt better to start with a clean slate. Not that calling himself Hal Leeds did a very great job of that, but he felt like a fraud wearing the parker name.
“I remember,” it's kind of what he’d been expecting, because how else, right? Except Strange had been verry clear in that no one would remember Peter Parker, and if anyone was going to break through the haze it was going to be his best friend and his girlfriend, not the stranger sitting across from him.
“How? Everyone else forgot, even,” even the people who should never forget.
He cleared his throat and took a sip of tea, ignoring the slight burn as he took just a bit too much, “No one remembers. How?”
She gives him a pitying look, and gods he’s gotten enough of those over the past year. He’s a kid all on his own in a cheap one-bedroom apartment, who hasn’t had a visitor in the entire 10 months he’d lived there. He keeps weird hours, can't hold a job down, and seems to have a different and serious injury every week. He’s 90% certain the cat lady that lives across the hall thinks he’s involved in a gang. But not as in a gang, but as this idjit keeps pissing off a gang and they keep beating the absolute crap outta him.
“Peter,” and isn’t it strange to be called by that name again, “Strange is a powerful wizard, with a vast knowledge on many things man knows nothing about, but he’s not powerful enough or have even the base level of knowledge needed to make a being such as myself forget.”
“A being such as myself?” This was starting to look like a spiderman situation.
“I’m not here to talk about myself little spider (oh, so she definitely knows about that, lovely). You’ve had a rough few years, this last one especially.
“You have no family, no friends, no career. The home you come back to day after day is cold and infested with termites (oh?! That’s what those sounds he’d been pointedly ignoring where… fucking lovely), you work for a newspaper that smears your name daily. Your public image has never been worse, the police shoot at you more than the criminals you help them capture, and the people you save fear you. They wouldn’t and haven’t hesitated to turn you in. That’s how you got the scar on your temple, right?
“You no longer have access to the technology and resources Tony Stark gifted you, and despite having the intellect to recreate some of them, you have neither the funding nor time to do so. Tell me Peter, how much sleep have you gotten in the past week?”
“I- how do you know all of these things about me? I know Beck is responsible for leaking my identity, but a lot of that happened after memories where wiped.” He’s not sure when he got to his feet, but he found himself pacing, “’Have- have you been spying on me?”
“This isn’t about-”
“Have you been spying on me?”
She shot him a look over her cup and leaned back, much too comfortable for this conversation. The only thing stopping him from reacting any further was his Spidey sense, which remained silent.
“My knowledge of your personal life is not the result of spying dear spider,” she set her cup down and made sure to look him dead in the eye, “this visit is of no ill intent.”
“Then why are you here? Did,” he’ll admit he was falling into hysterics by this point, but who wouldn’t, “the universe send you just to tell me how crappy my life is? Believe me I know it, ok?
“Last year I was going to college, and I had,” he was crying, when did he start crying? “I had May, I had my friends, I had a girlfriend. I don’t anymore, but that’s my fault, at least I’m the only one to live with the consequences.”
“Are you?”
“Excuse me?” what the fuck is that supposed to mean?
“You’ve gotten twelve hours of sleep in the last seven days peter, that’s not healthy for a person with a normal metabolism. And we both know,” she stood up and walked around the table dividing them as she said this “you are far from normal.”
Oh, this was just getting creepy.
“Tell me, is this the future Tony would’ve wanted for you? The future he died for you to have?” and fuck if that wasn’t a low blow. He’d really dropped the ball with this one, and he had no one to help him pick up the pieces. But still,
“You have no right to bring Tony into this, this whatever the hell is going on right now.” Oh, great trying to be angry through tears, “look either you tell me what the hell is going on, or you get the fuck out of my apartment.” He must’ve set his cup down to hard, because he sees glass flying out of the corner of his vison and hot tea on his hands, but he’s too blinded by rage to care. How fucking dare she?
She didn’t flinch at a word he said or the shattered cup, because why would she? He’s just lousy spiderman, knocked down a peg or five, and she’s...
“Are you a god?” this at least pulled an amused smile to her face.
“I assure you peter, I am not a god,” she took yet another step closer leaving just a foot of space between them, “we’ve actually met before, but I’ll explain that when we meet again.
“Peter, if you were given the opportunity to change things, would you? Do not ask how, a simple yes or no will suffice.”
What kind of question is that?
“Yes, of course I would.”
She grabbed his shoulders, and everything around him became shaky and blurry except for her. He panicked and tried to pull back but found her hold too strong to back out of. Which, not to be a broken record or anything, but he is spiderman. How??
“Oh, dear spider, do not fear I’m not here with ill intent,” why did she sound a million miles away but also like she was whispering in her ear? "Quite the opposite actually."
She cupped his face with her hand, and everything blurred further, distantly he was aware of his hands beginning to tremble on her arms, “I am a powerful being, however not quite powerful enough to prevent side effects. There are unpredictable risks, but you should find most are only temporary.”
He tried to open his mouth, because what the fuck, and found his eyes the only thing he could move.
“My dearest spider I know you are afraid, and unfortunately, I cannot tell you the fear will end here. You have had many hardships in your path, and unfortunately there are countless obstacles you still need to overcome. You will face many more heartbreaks in your lifetime,” a tear slips down her ebony cheek, and Peter is surprised to feel love radiating off of her and sinking into his skin.
“But you have been built to be strong, to be a fierce warrior and selfless protector. Your soul is purer then even that of Odinson’s as a babe taking his first breath, and you’ve had many chances to be corrupted by the world. Perhaps you’ve been beaten down, perhaps you’ve had to change yourself to fight off the hardships you’ve faced, but at your core you are a good person Peter parker.”
The last time he’d felt so loved had been wrapped up in Mays arms, and even then, it hadn’t been filled with quite this level of pride, this cosmic blessing.
“You have the compassion and knowledge within you to find great success.”
She brought his head closer and placed her lips on his forehead sending liquid fire through his veins and completely blacking out his vision, “do not let your selfless heart get in the way of that.”
“We will meet again, we are all rooting for you, my dear spider,” Green, dark, deep, and shimmering, overtook the darkness, and the pain brought him to his knees. Her hands were ripped from his cheeks, and he would’ve sobbed at the loss, if not for the world ending pain tearing apart every atom in his body.
Pain unlike any other, seemingly unending, until finally sleep took him from his torment.