Chapter Text
Blissful Ignorance
That’s the first thing he feels. He tries to survey his surroundings but all he can see is green. Green is a peaceful color. He vaguely remembers doing a project on color theory back… home. Someone he isn’t allowed anymore. Somewhere– No. He’s not gonna think about it anymore. Maybe-
Pain. Searing, Hot, White Pain. It takes him by surprise. He jolts uncomfortably. He tries to calm down and suppress the feeling, but it’s constant. It keeps him from thinking straight. He misses the calm that the green… whatever produced. But it seems that it was just the calm before the storm. Instinct takes over, his legs begin moving, kicking , his arms move the heavy, sticky, thick… whatever he’s drenched in.
He breaks the surface with a gasp. He’s swimming to the side and hopping out of the water- pond- pit- whatever it is. As he sits on the edge in a criss cross position and just breathes. It’s all he can do.
Now that the pain subsides, he surveys the room. Just like Matt taught him. He closes his eyes and stretches out his senses and feels . He can feel the rumbling of cars way above. He hears rushing water and machines. He smells pollution and filth. It’s like everything in this universe is wrong. He hears yelling, screaming, crying-
Wherever he is, it’s not where the most morally correct people come from. As he gazes into the water he tries to put the pieces together. What happened to him?
“Okay Peter–” He grimaces at his own froggy voice. “What do you remember?”
He was patrolling. Alone today since Wade and Matt were busy interrogating (Read: Torturing) people. He felt free swinging through the air, occasionally dropping down alleys to stop a mugging or save a victim’s life. It’s a shame that he has to do this but when has life ever been fair ?
When the night quietens, he still feels adrenaline coursing through his veins. It’s not like he has anyone waiting on him, so he swings to one of the taller buildings in New York, passing over the alley that hides his civilian clothes and quickly webbing the backpack towards himself, never losing momentum and lands silently. Sometimes he gets like this, where he wants to just stay outside and admire the stars. Sometimes he slips on his clothes over the suit, just to keep that extra warmth, not tonight though. He moves quickly and efficiently, slipping on some baggy dark-blue jeans, a white undershirt, a light-gray hoodie, and then he slides on a black windbreaker. He plops down and slides on some dark-red converse and tucks his suit in his backpack that has a variety of other things that can be used if he has to flee.
Sitting on the edge of the building, he looks up at the stars, his fluffy hair falling away from his face. He makes out some constellations before he hears a flutter of movement behind him. Whatever it is, it isn’t dangerous since his Spidey Sense didn’t go off. The man, around his mid-thirties if his heart is anything to go by, sits next to him.
“Peter?” He jolts, he knows that voice. His head snaps to the figure. “Doctor Strange?” He smiles softly, but Peter can see the guilt in his eyes. “Hey, how’s everything going?” His cloak flutters around Peter in a friendly manner. “It’s been going okay” He looks back up at the stars “I’ve made new friends, they’ve been teaching me things– about my powers and just skills in general–” He looks back at Strange, “How do you remember me?” Strange looks down at him with a smirk, “You didn’t think I’d leave a 16-year-old in a world where no one remembers him did you? I’ve been watching you grow for quite some time now, I just wanted you to know” His eyes widen, “Oh” He’s at a loss for words. “Well, thanks for-” He jumps before he even understands what’s going on, he takes a bullet to the side as he pushes Strange out the way. He watches as Strange releases a burst of magic behind him and the perpetrator is down. Strange gently lays Peter down on his back. “Come on kid, keep your eyes open for me” Peter looks up at him, the corners of his vision fading quickly to black. He hears Strange mutter out a curse, then he’s moving his hand in that familiar circular motion, orangey sparks popping out as a portal shining a suspicious green color opens. Peter feels himself being slid into the portal. “I’m sorry Peter, but you need to live” Strange’s voice is the last thing he hears as he’s dropped into a glowing, green pit with his backpack hanging on his shoulders.