Chapter Text
Honestly, Peter has done a lot of less than smart things for being an incredibly smart individual. Breaking the multiverse was definitely topping the charts. Right next to sneaking onto an alien’s spaceship to fight a titan without the Avengers knowing till it was too late. He was sure the later would be his biggest fuck-up of all time. Turns out, he was disappointedly wrong.
Now, Peter was free falling. Yanked through one of the multiple black holes that dotted the sky as Dr. Strange erased him from the very world he destroyed. He missed that annoyingly put together man’s sparkly hands as his eyes met, black, black and oh look! More black.
He had thought that when Strange said he’d be ‘erased’ from his universe, that people would forget him. Forget any trace of Peter Benjaman Parker. He didn’t expect to actually get wiped from the universe and shoved somewhere else, that on him for thinking magic would do something normal-ish in the first place.
All things considered, he should probably be concerned. He said goodbye to Ned, MJ, the other Peter’s. The world was broken and worst of all, May was dead. So no, he wasn’t concerned that he was falling through space and time. His heart nearly leaped out of his chest when the blur of black started having barely there streaks of gold. He thought the sparkly magic was only at the beginning. That should probably frighten him too but had officially ran out of the ability to care.
When the fall was over, he expected to slam into the ground. Have to turn or shoot a web, something to help slow his descent from the sky. That didn’t happen though. He made the oof sound out of instinct, kind of like when people get hit and say ‘ouch’, but it doesn’t really hurt. When he blinked, the black above him was dotted with stars, but he didn’t hurt. It was like he just laid down for a nap. A very disorienting nap.
“Hey, look!” A voice called from down the alley he apparently found himself in. “There’s some kind of freak over there.”
Well, that’s not good. Peter took one second to sigh loudly. Of course, he would immediately find trouble in – wherever the hell he was. His luck was really on a whole new level of shitty. It should be considered on its own spectrum at this point. Studied and made into a cautionary tale. Be good kids or you’ll end up with luck like Peter Parker! If he was turned into a story then at least he wouldn’t be as broke. Unlikely, but whatever.
Peter shook his head and tried to find his bearings. At least his face was still covered, and his suit was in-tact enough that he wouldn’t be outed as a Peter Parker so soon. Small blessing from Iron Man, his suit withstands inter-dimensional travel. Tony would be so proud. And cocky. He’d have boasted about it for months.
Peter managed to smile despite the pain that the thought brought up. No Tony. No May. No MJ. No Ned. No Avengers. No one but the slightly smelly garbage that was oddly copper tinged. That and the guy who found him already. Another was walking slower, coming behind the braver first one.
He just realized he was immediately assuming that they would hurt or steal from him. God, Peter that’s so rude! ‘What kind of superhero are you, not even giving the stranger a bit of grace!’ He mentally scolded himself and forced his head to the side, to look at the stranger.
Okay, in this instance, he was totally spot on. The guy had a gun trained at his head, and his finger already on the trigger. So that was fun.
“Shit man is that gold?” The second said, once he got close enough to see the lining of ‘gold’ in his suit, but it was really nano technology with the appearance of gold. Tony was flashy like that.
“Nah, is an aluminum alloy casing that just looks like it.” Peter replied honestly, getting up slowly in case the guy was a little trigger happy. Petter could dodge but he really would rather not get into a brawl so soon after fighting for his – and the other Peter’s lives and universes.
“Oh shit it’s alive!” The guy squeaked, jumping back and nearly smacking his head on the low hanging stairwell for the building on the right.
“Hey, I’m a he thank you. I know pro-nouns are hard for some people but common man.” Peter said sassily, but it felt dry even to him. He needed a long depressive cry and comfort food if snarking at criminals didn’t even make him feel better.
Except he didn’t have a home. Or food. Or really any idea how to live on his own. Not to mention the very real lack of money. He knew May was good at keeping on top of their lives, making sure there was always enough to keep the lights on and food in the fridge. He thought he had been grateful before, but he was taking on a whole new level of appreciation for her right now.
Man he was tired.
Not the kind of physically tired – though that was definitely true too – but the kind of tired that made his brain feel mushy. Overworked and borderline overwhelmed. He just needed a safe place to have a nice little mental breakdown for a minute before he could start organizing the past few days into neat little boxes labeled ‘SAD. DON’T TOUCH.’ In his own brain. Compartmentalizing was healthy, right?
Peter was standing now, twisting his back so it cracked about ten times. Then he tilted his head to each side, getting another four or so on each side.
“Shit man, are you like, broken?” The criminal asked, his hand now shaking slightly and his finger looked ready to pull the trigger.
“Probably.” Peter said with a yawn. “But not physically.”
Not more than a few scrapes and bruises anyways. Maybe a cracked rib, but his limbs were starting to feel a bit numb, and Peter was like super positive that he was in the early stages of shock. The criminal shifted on his feet. Worry and fear was bleeding off him enough that Peter smelt it in the form of intense sweat, even through the sense diminishing technology in his mask. That was just great. The guy with a gun was piss-pant levels of scared of him. Sweet.
“This has been fun, but I gotta run, gotta planned mental breakdown I just can’t reschedule again.” Peter said sarcastically but only was like eighty percent joking as he dramatically looked at his wrist like he had a watch there. He definitely didn’t, and it just seemed to confuse the criminal. Clearly these guys didn’t know how to take a joke. That’s a bit disappointing.
“Anyways, don’t steal, lie, cheat, yada, yada, yada. You know the schpeal. The one you should take to heart though? Don’t play with firearms.” Spiderman sent a web to the barrel with a thwick.
The criminal didn’t have a chance to fire the weapon before the glob of webbing hit the barrel, coating the insides thickly. He yanked hard enough to pull it from the criminal’s hand, but not enough to wretch his shoulder from its socket. By the time it was in Peter’s hand for a second, he crushed the weapon completely. Leaving it in pieces of crumbled metal and completely unusable.
“Buh-bye now!” Peter called with fake chipperness to his tone as he shot a web and flung himself up the fire escape.
He needed to gather his bearings. Get somewhere relatively safe. He could figure out the rest when he didn’t feel like curling into a ball of tears and anxiety from his grief. Looking around, the buildings were shorter than what he was used to. This definitely wasn’t the New York skyline he adored. Another blow to his already fragile soul.
‘Don’t think about it right now Pete. Gotta focus!’ He sighed and tried to pay attention to what was around him. The buildings weren’t looking too hot. Many of them were practically falling in on themselves. Not that the structure of them were really bad, it just looked like it was. As he jumped from roof to roof, he noticed most actually had an old style of architecture. The buildings were mostly brick and steel rather than wood or plaster. Sturdy, which was surprising considering how expensive it is to build this way.
He didn’t think too hard about it. He just went to the tallest building he could see. An apartment complex maybe? It had multiple windows that were cracked, and it looked like it was hit by a blast of some sort at one point. It smelt faintly of smoke and cinder. There were black scorch marks crawling up the side of it and a big hole opening up the wall to the main floor.
It wouldn’t be warm, and there would probably be other squatters there, but he’d give it a looksie and hope he could find a space to breathe because he wasn’t sure how much cognizant thought he had left. Slipping into one of the blown-out windows was easy. Turns out it wasn’t an apartment complex, it was some kind of office building. One with a giant hole in the floor on the left side.
Peter peeked over the edge from the uppermost floor, and he could see all the way to the first. Cracked concrete and chipped tile was on the base floor, but carpet was on this one. Except around the hole where it was singed. Whatever made that hole was one hell of a blast. He strained his ears, and he couldn’t hear another person here – no other heart beats. Granted, it was far more open and draftier than he initially thought so maybe the other homeless people were just smarter than him.
Still, he practically praised any god who would listen for the luck. He did not want to fight someone who was equally down on their luck for a place to sleep. It clicked a second later as he looked around more. There was no staircase and the elevator off to the right side was clearly not operating, its carriage slammed into the ground on the first floor from when the thick cables snapped.
That could work for him. Peter would always be able to get here, and no one could just run up to him. He couldn’t be surprised in his sleep or something. As long as he was able to find some place that was closed off enough that he could keep warm throughout the night. The Iron Spider was a marvel of technology, but it couldn’t keep a heater running twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five.
So, Peter leaned away from the gaping hole in the floor and moved to the right side of the building. It was more stable looking, and there were a couple of walls, so hopefully there was an office or two still intact. Most of the space was taken up by a big bullpen, with tons of cubicles with flimsy walls, dusty chairs, and long forgotten paperwork.
The first seemingly enclosed room reminded him of Tony’s R&D testing rooms. Thick glass to look inside with a barrier between the real room and the observation area, which was freakishly clean for how destroyed the building was. floors were a pristine white, and the walls were coated in thick steel. Peter didn’t see any windows and nearly cheered, it would be perfect. Warm, closed off from the elements and hopefully strong enough that he could have a solid freak out. The only thing inside the room was a small canister that was in a box, tipped on its side, but that was it.
He went to open the door, placing his hand on the steel handle when his spider sense absolutely SCREAMED at him. He was so surprised he barely remembered to take his hand off the handle before plastering himself against the far wall with a pounding heart. When nothing sprung out at him or even rattled the handle, Peter looked through the thick glass of the windows inside the room again.
He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. It looked perfectly clean. He took off his mask, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of the building without the assistance of the suit to help him. When he squinted at the room, this time he saw it. Particles. Dozens and dozens of particles. If they were settled on the ground they could’ve been mistaken as dust, but they kept zooming through the air, whacking into the walls, floor, and each other at a rapid pace. They were practically microscopic and no doubt what his sense was trying to warn him about.
Peter walked away quickly, not knowing what was in that room, but clearly it wasn’t as safe as he thought. Luckily, he did find another office. This one was the regular kind. The kind that a big shot who ran a company would have. It even had floor to ceiling windows, though there was a large crack that was letting in some seriously cold air from outside. Peter had enough sense of mind to take one of the cubical desks, rip the top off the legs and used that to block the wind chill. It was thick and sturdy, but just in case, he shot two of his strongest webs at it to keep it in place.
With decent shelter acquired, he closed the door and huddled into the corner. He could still see outside the window, but it would be damn hard for someone to see him. He’d have to try to find – or make – some kind of reflective cover so he could still look out, but no one could look in. That was a thought for another day though. He stared at the white slanted eyes of the mask in his hands as sadness, fear, and guilt ate him.
He couldn’t take off the suit yet, he needed the warmth from the heater while it still worked, but he felt less worthy of it now than ever before. There was no Spiderman now. No one here knew who that was, which meant there definitely wasn’t anyone here who knew Peter Parker. It wasn’t comforting. It was lonely and it made a horribly painful sob claw up Peter’s throat.
No one was going to tell him it was alright now. No one even knew his name. There wasn’t going to be anymore Thai-takeout nights with May. No Lego sets with Ned. No sneaky glances or sarcastic battles with MJ. He was all alone now.
It was beyond lonely. It was crushing. The building was sturdy enough, but he felt like he was under piles of rubble from how difficult it was to breathe. Choked hiccups came along with rivers of tears that he had no chance of stopping. Everything was gone. And it was all his fault.
~*~*~
When Peter woke up, he was very disoriented. His head throbbed and his shoulder ached from the awkward position he fell asleep in. He’d cried himself to sleep. Once his throat was raw and he didn’t have any more energy to do more than look out the large window, he drifted off nearly instantly.
The trails from his tears were dry, but they felt cold. He was sure his eyes were puffy and horrible based on how horribly stiff and uncomfortable they felt. Peter curled into himself further. He knew he needed to get up. He needed to find food, to shower away some of the blood and grime from the battle. Find some way to make money. It all sounded like a lot.
The more he thought of things he’d need, the more weight pressed on his shoulders. He wasn’t even sure he had running water. Under his suit was just his jeans and t-shirt he had on before the fight. There’s no way he’d be able to survive in that. He at least needed a coat. Shoes that weren’t bright red boots.
Too much. It was all too much. He didn’t know how long he just watched the window. The city he was in, it was as busy as New York, but with a lot more black. With his enhanced vision, he could see the people on the street below with clarity. They walked with confidence and stern faces. Many carried weapons obviously on their hips. They didn’t seem to walk around with food or drinks like New Yorkers did. No bagels and coffee in hand as they rushed to work.
It was like they needed to keep their hands free. Ready for the worst-case scenarios. He even spotted a couple gas masks. It felt very dystopian, and dread had settled in his stomach like a rock.
A sudden rain started. It was just a drizzle but because Peter is naturally hated by the universe, within ten minutes it had become a downpour. Enough water pelted the window that it was like going through a car wash with Happy. Except no brightly colored soaps, just the rush of water over glass that made it feel slightly claustrophobic.
Peter wasn’t enthused with the wall of water, but he appreciated how it drowned out the noise of the city. No more bustling work-goers, overworked pipes or loud brake pads. That was nice. Almost like white noise. With a heavy sigh, Peter made his way to his feet. He couldn’t go out there without the full suit, the rain must be freezing with the cold air. Still, he had to at least see how his building was holding up with it. Otherwise, he might have to re-evaluate.
He hadn’t gotten attached, but it was convenient. It’d be easy to find as long as he didn’t walk too far past whatever sector of the city this was. He was sure there must be nicer areas than here. Ones with opulent buildings and thriving businesses. All cities have both sides; he just happened to fall in the downtrodden side. He was sure of it.
With a heavy ache to his bones, Peter explored the remnants of this floor more closely. He kept large berth away from that odd R&D test room, but beyond that it was fair game. But it was cold. Brisk wind and the scent of thunderous rain assaulted him as soon as he stepped out of the office. He made sure to close the door immediately, trying to keep as much heat inside as possible.
The cubicles were mostly the same. A couple of pencils, pens, and other random office supplies. A few mostly empty notebooks that Peter made sure to snag along with a laptop case he found hidden in one of the desks. It looks like a mouse might’ve gotten to it at some point; there was a hole in the bottom corner but thankfully no droppings inside. No laptop either. That was a bummer, but he was positive the building didn’t have electricity or internet anyways.
Still, it would help him carry whatever he managed to scavenge. He grabbed a box of nice-looking ballpoint pens and a few highlighters from a small supply shelf too. They were too big to fall through the hole in the bottom, so that was good. A couple of locked steel drawers he tugged open with ease revealed a few treasures. A box of sealed protein bars, and a couple water bottles! One definitely had some kind of booze in it that made his nose hurt but he didn’t want to throw it away, just in case he got desperate for cleaning a wound or something.
He did find a couple ancient looking monitors, and outdated computers but again – no electricity. The parts might be useful though. He might be able to make a laptop if he could get his hands on some tools. He might even be able to jimmy rig some kind of solar or hand crank for some quick electricity for a charger. It was a decent idea so he made sure to grab every computer he could and put them in his new ‘room’.
No blankets, coats or any other personal items that he could hope to use for warmth. He did find a pair of converse in an abandoned gym bag, but the clothes clearly hadn’t been cleaned and the smell made him gag and they were easily triple the size of him. Still, he wasn’t stupid enough to toss clothes out.
He didn’t have anything, but what he was wearing. When he had enough money for laundry, he’d try to clean them. Or worse case, do it in a sink with some soap in a public restroom. It wouldn’t feel clean, but it was better than nothing. He folded them tightly and put them in one of the empty drawers in the office, not eager to do that particular chore.
He was excited about the white converse that were stuffed in the bottom of the bag though. The shoes were a size too small, but he’d make it work. At least he could go outside without looking like a total freak, just kind of… destitute. Which, ouch, but not wrong.
Lastly, there was a bathroom, but just a toilet and a sink. The water blessedly worked, and somehow the sewage lines weren’t hit in the blast, but the water was freezing. He’d have to sneak into a gym or something if he wanted a real shower, but a hobo shower would at least get the grime off his face. Washed his face and hair twice before he dared to peek at the mirror.
All things considered, he didn’t look too horrible. A giant purple bruise on his cheek, the bridge of his nose was split and there was a deep scratch on his forehead next to his hairline. But the cheekbone was back to being in one piece. His jaw felt better too, but there was definitely some tightness, and the skin was tender with another bruise. He was sure the rest of him was just as battered, but he didn’t want to lose the heat of the suit long enough to check. Those ones were at least clean. The villains hadn’t managed to split the suit.
Just whack him around while his face was uncovered. Because he was exposed. ‘Don’t go there Peter.’ He shook his head viciously as if he could make the thought fall out onto the floor. It would be so nice if it would transform into something he could squish under his foot. Like bug. Even if it was more like a cockroach than an ant.
Going back to his room, he pulled the desk chair to the other side of the table and took out one of his notebooks and a fresh pen. He needed to make a list, figure out what he needed to do next and brainstorm some ideas. Frankly, there was a lot, so he tried to limit it to the top three necessities.
- Find out where I am
- Find job/way to pay for more food (at least 1 week)
- Don’t think about home
Okay, the last one wasn’t great, but every time he did, he wanted to bawl. So, he added it with extra underlines. He could worry about his frightening mental state when he was living more safely. He didn’t even have a shower right now! So, it felt like a good level of success to open ‘freak out about home’ box in his mind. Until then, he just had to keep moving. May wouldn’t want him to give up.
‘Stop it Peter!’ He mentally chided himself when the brief thought of her name made his eyes feel misty. He swiped them on his forearm and forced himself to choke back the whimper that wanted to climb up his throat. It won’t help. He needs to focus! ‘God DAMMIT Peter!’ He screamed at himself when his heart thumped painfully enough that he gripped at his chest.
He would not fall. He wouldn’t. He needed to keep going. Just… push it down. Just for now. Break later, but right now he forced himself to stand on shaky legs. He put the notebook into the laptop case where the protective sleeve is. Hopefully it was water resistant. It’ll be okay. Just start with number one.
Where is he? He had no idea and that was a problem. He didn’t look too closely at the paperwork around the office, but he took the time to look through the cabinets in his room. Nothing but binders and random supplies like paperclips and staples. He took a binder at random, noting a decent layer of dust coating the top but not enough to think it’d been like years, but still a decent while.
Lexcorp 2008 Financial Statements – Gotham Division.
So here is Gotham? That made as much sense as any other name. It’s not like he knew where that was or even if it was in the US, but it gave him a start. He wasn’t sure how old the records were, but they were very contradicting to the state of the building, so he assumed not recently.
Lexcorp had decent finances, they looked evenly spread and while their expenses were a little high, it was nothing compared to their overall profit. They even had a three percent growth rate, and a multitude of company bonds sold to investors. If he could thank Pepper for teaching him corporate mumbo-jumbo he would. ‘Oh god Pepper!’
Nope. Nope. Don’t go there Peter. She don’t even know who he is anymore. No one does. No one remembers him. No one knows he even existed outside of being Spiderman. That’s fine. It’s fine. He gulped and shoved the binder back in the cabinet more forcefully than he needed to be. It was fine. Totally fine. He could handle this. He’s been to space! He’s literally died before. He can handle being homeless. In a new city. Completely alone.
“Easy peasy!” Peter said with fake sincerity and utter delusion.