Chapter Text
So many people. Peter doesn’t even know them all. They all grieve, though. Everyone had someone to grieve. If you didn’t, then what a sad life. Your sister, brother, mother, father, friend, pet. Or even someone you passed every other day at the coffee shop. Everyone had someone to grieve. Peter watched them grieve. He grieved too.
Water filled his lungs
He had to watch Tony, stuck in space. Watch when he was saved, and watch when he tried to heal, despite it all. He watched Pepper when she gave Tony the news. Peter wouldn’t be there for them. He would never get to tell Tony what he meant to him, another father despite all the ups and downs they had. He never got to tell Pepper how amazing he thought she was, how much her strong voice reminded him of being sung to sleep before the plane crash. He would never get to tell Happy how grateful he was for him, how reliant he had become because he knew he could trust that Happy would be there. His sister will grow up without him
He tried to cough, to scream
Peter will never get to train with Natasha again, or build with Tony, or roll his eyes when Steve checks on him after every little scratch. He won’t get to talk with Bruce about science, or become friends with Bucky and Sam. No more teaching Wanda about the things she missed out on in her childhood, or listening to her stories of her brother. No more playing with Clint’s kids, or learning about the wonders of Asgard. No more asking Vision stupid questions with even stupider answers, or war stories from Rhodey, piss off Steven with all his questions. He won’t have to deal with Nick Fury sending people to watch him.
Nothing came out
He won’t get to hang out with Deadpool anymore, or train with Daredevil. He won’t get to meet Foggy, or spend time with the Fantastic Four. He won’t be able to convince Felicia that she can be better, or finally deal with Rhino. He won’t be there to keep the people safe from Green Goblin, or Doc Ock. He won’t be able to keep helping people just a little too down on their luck. He won’t get to know if J.J. Jameson really hates him, or what he thinks of his photos. He won’t get to finish college.
Everything hurt
Peter won’t get to finish Star Wars with Ned, tell him his feelings what he really meant to Peter. No more crude jokes from Flash, or making fun of people with MJ. No more decathlon meets or science projects he’ll ace, because his parents gave him twice their smarts. He won’t get anymore free food from random thankful street vendors, or fix his friendship with Harry. He’ll never know if Gwen will be able to walk again, or if Mary Jane forgives him.
His muscles burned
He won’t get to see Aunt May again, or eat her terrible cooking. No more Sunday dinners, or spontaneous dance parties. He won’t get to visit Uncle Ben’s grave, or comfort Aunt May everytime his birthday comes around. His parents' graves will be just two among the millions added after the snap .
He started to change
He’s losing out on so much life, all because some stupid grape believed that he was the only one who could save the universe. That his way would be the only way that works.
He started to forget
It’s been almost a year since the snap, he thinks. Peter is stuck, watching. Stuck, in this gray, tortuous void. He sees them all, at the same time. If he were still alive, it’d hurt his brain too much to even think. He would probably go insane.
He wasn’t the same anymore
There’s Harry, Gwen, his old neighbor, his science partner, the lady that always takes his order at the coffee shop, the cashier at his local store that always checks him out. There’s people that he doesn’t know. His old mentors, his old friends. He has to watch them all, as they grieve.
He thought of them all, for one last time
Tony probably hurt the most. He was the one who watched as Peter was ripped apart, too fast for his healing, too slow for a proper goodbye. It just prolonged his pain, and Tony, his father, had to watch. He didn’t get to say goodbye.
He didn’t get to say goodbye.
Aunt May, Ned, MJ, they died too. He didn’t know if that made it better or worse. They wouldn’t have to deal with the chaos the world went to, or grieve like everyone else, but they also wouldn’t get to . They wouldn’t get to live. Aunt May won’t get that promotion, Ned won’t get to see that movie on Friday, MJ won’t get to go to that fancy college she wanted. They won’t get to be what they wanted, or do the things they were planning. The choice was ripped away.
They died, and Peter wasn’t able to save them.
He wasn’t able to save anybody.
He wasn’t able to save himself .
Peter felt himself come to terms with it. His death. The deaths of everyone. That he wasn’t able to save them.
Gray faded to green, and Peter started to fall. His hand shot out on instinct, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything. His webs shot out, but there was nothing to grab on to. It was just void. Dusty air became moist, and Peter’s back hit water.
Ringing. Peter groaned, blinking his eyes harshly as the last remnant of sleep rolled off. He flopped his hand down, almost breaking the shitty alarm clock.
That dream again.
People that Peter couldn’t remember, but mourned nonetheless. He could barely remember what happened, before he woke up to green . It was like he remembered, but at the same time he didn’t. New York, coffee, an apartment that never quite felt like home. But the people, Peter couldn’t remember the people. He remembered being taught how to fight, ballet rehearsal, school projects, but who was he with? He remembered movies and legos, but who he had been with was nothing but dust . Someone was drawing, making fun of people, but who were they?
Peter could remember fighting, trying to convince someone that there was another way ( Another way to what? ) but they were a mystery to him. He could remember helping people, burnt pancakes, gossiping, teaching, but he couldn’t remember . They were just silhouettes, covered in green, gray and ashes.
He wondered idly if it was another side effect of the death liquid he vaguely remembered waking up in a couple of months ago. He knew it did a lot of things to him, though how he knew they were different from before he couldn’t tell you. He didn’t know how he got in the liquid, what happened before, or even the first month afterwards. All he really knows about it, is that it tipped his whole world upside down.
Most things didn’t make sense anymore.
But, Peter had been through a lot in his short life, even though the details of such events were blurry. And one thing was for certain, Peter always got back up. He grew and he adapted. He never stopped moving. Yeah, Peter might sometimes get a little angry over irrational things, and sure, he had horrible memory problems, and of course he was well aware of his mutant abilities. And yeah, those abilities were slightly different from before, and of course his senses were almost dialed up to eleven most days. But what was he gonna do, just give up? Peter Benjamin Parker doesn’t just give up.
Which is how Peter finds himself here, in Gotham, zoning back in from his weird dream and running late for work. Peter had been in Gotham for six (conscious) months now, and so far it had been a… jarring experience, to say the least. Sure, it made it hella easy to get away with not having any proof he existed, but that was about the only good thing that came from this place. Most people were willing to shoot anyone who so much as looked at them the wrong way, and Peter couldn’t even blame them! People who didn’t have at least one weapon on them would typically end up dead, or worse . Not to mention the whole gallery of villains!
Peter used to believe that no one deserved to die, but that had changed drastically since waking up in Gotham. Now he believes most people don’t deserve to die. Some of these people had a very special place in hell waiting just for them. Not that Peter exactly believed in the afterlife, but he would believe in hell, just for these people.
But Peter was getting off topic. Gotham wasn’t all bad. Some of the people were actually really nice, if you got past the rough Gotham exterior. And, of course, Batman and his crew were here too. Although, Peter had a bit of a conflicted feeling about them, but that was a topic for another day.
Gotham reminded him of New York, in a weird way. The people had a similar feel to them, and the smell was exactly the same, minus the smell of blood and gunpowder everywhere. The skyline looked similar, too.
It wasn’t home though. Much the opposite, actually. The Yorker in him will forever hate that he stayed in Jersey , of all places.
But, Peter didn’t have time to dwell on all that, he had a job to get to. His boss had been pretty lenient with him so far, but that doesn’t mean they’ll let him get away with being late again . It would be the third time this month, and they had warned him about it before he left last night. So, Peter ran. Parker luck, he missed the bus, again, and had to run through the sketchy streets of Gotham. He carefully avoided the people at the mouths of alleys, waiting for the unlucky soul that passed too close.
He passed by a pickpocket, going for anyone who was just distracted enough that she could get away with their wallet. Don’t get him wrong, Peter was absolutely not above stealing. He did what he had to do to survive when he had first gotten here, but that had been from people who clearly wouldn’t miss twenty bucks, not someone who was clearly expecting. Either way, he weaved through people, letting his warning system guide him. It had always kept him safe, no reason to stop trusting it now.
Peter arrived to work just on time, rushing to the back to get in uniform. It was about to hit the lunch rush, and Peter did not want to subject his wonderful coworker Maddie to dealing with it alone. Not for even a minute. The customers could get a little rowdy sometimes.
Peter threw on the red apron, Red Robin’s insignia displayed proudly, and chucked on the black hat with a yellow Bat. It was a little silly, Peter thought, having a whole ass restaurant dedicated to the heroes. Most others only had item menus based off of them, but not the Gotham Bats. No, they get a whole restaurant . Peter could understand it, though, the Bats had done a lot for the people of Gotham.
It still was a little silly. Plus, the figurines didn’t even look like the real heroes. That said, most people didn’t know what they actually looked like, so Peter could forgive them, he supposed.
Why did Peter know what they look like? Easy. Despite not remembering a lot before he woke up to green , he remembered helping people. He remembered he had friends who helped people, even if they were silhouettes covered by ash. They were his heroes, so of course the first thing he tried to do when he got out of the green haze was look for them. He had found the Bats instead. He’ll admit, there was a part of him that connected with them. He knew they weren’t his friends, his heroes, but he felt… drawn, to them. So, since he wasn’t able to find his friends, he had latched onto the Bats. Peter had followed them around ever since, trying to help where he could. He would stay just out of sight, just like he was taught, by someone who had long since been consumed by the green. He had only almost been caught a couple of times.
Needless to say, Peter knew a bit of what he was talking about.
Peter served customers, thinking. He had liked the Bats, based on what he had seen. Batman was strong, a man of few words, but smart. He was a good leader, and skilled in most everything he did. He commanded respect from those who knew him, and fear from those who opposed him. But he was definitely not a perfect man. Peter could sense from a mile away that the other Bats had some tension with him. But, that was all Peter had gotten to see of the man. He’s sure there was a lot more to him than just Peter’s outside observations.
Now, Spoiler, Black Bat, and Signal were really cool in Peter’s opinion. Signal was the only daytime hero, and was definitely a meta. That automatically made him cool in Peter’s book. He bypassed Batman’s no meta rule, and overall just seemed to be cool. Although, he almost caught Peter watching him one time. It had been very nerve-wracking. Like with Black Bat. She’s almost caught Peter every time he saw her, which was very few times, but still. She was by far the hardest for him to track. He’s pretty sure she knows that someone’s watching her, but she hasn’t caught him yet, so he’ll take that as a win. And Spoiler, Peter really liked her. She was energetic, had a flair for the dramatic, but was a very formidable opponent. Some people would try to underestimate her, which she simultaneously hated and used to her advantage. And, in Peter’s humble opinion, she looked the coolest out of all of them.
Like Red Hood. He looked really cool. Although, in the start, Peter hadn’t been aware that he was a Bat. He had been drawn to him regardless. He was a crime lord, who resided in the second worst area of Gotham, Crime Alley, only beat by the asylum. Crime Alley, which had just so happened to be where Peter first woke up from the green haze, and near where he lived now. Peter liked Red Hood, he made sure to take care of the children, and helped others where he could. Though, Peter didn’t know as much about him as he did some of the other Bats. He tried to avoid Crime Alley as much as he could. It overwhelmed his senses, reminding him of a faded memory of holding someone, gunpowder and blood overpowering everything else.
Peter shook the thought away. Now Robin was someone Peter really admired. He was younger than Peter, but no less experienced than the other Bats. That probably meant something bad for his civilian life, but Peter didn’t want to assume. He was really skilled with katanas, which reminded Peter of somebody he used to really care about. It would give him a headache if he tried to think about it too much, so he didn’t. Robin was calculated, ruthless, and very probably lethal, but he held back.
Peter could admire that. It was obvious that Robin was trained to kill, but he chose not to. He chose to be better. It reminded Peter of someone else. Although, there was a very real possibility that it was Batman’s no kill rule that he seemed to live by, which Peter thought was a little stupid, but he tried not to think of that. He’d rather forget that he used to live by the exact same ‘code’.
(Why would Peter have a code?)
And Nightwing. He seemed to be the oldest, except for maybe Red Hood, but Peter was pretty sure it was Nightwing. He reminded Peter of himself, in a way, athletic, funny, but serious when needed. They seemed a lot alike, in Peter’s brain, and it made him feel a little less alone. Though, he probably hadn’t been through what Peter had, dying, coming back to life, forgetting things that were important, people who were important, but in a way that made Peter happy. He didn’t wish what happened to him on anyone. He thinks Nightwing might be his favorite.
Red Robin would be a close contender. He was smart, good with tech, observant, an exceptional fighter, everything Peter admires. There was just one problem. He reminded Peter of someone, nothing new for the Bats, but this was much more than the others. He reminded Peter of someone who was far more important than everybody else. Someone who Peter forgot. It drove Peter insane, a feeling of admiration and familiarity mixed with bitterness. It would make the green flare up sometimes, but instead of being angry, like was usual, it instead filled him with an ache. It made him hurt . But Peter couldn’t hold that against him, and it wasn’t like it happened every time he saw him, so it was fine.
Just when he smiled, or referenced a movie, or cheered when he successfully hacked through something. It was fine, totally fine.
Peter heard a bell, still slightly lost in his thought, working mostly on autopilot. His hair suddenly stood on end, goosebumps lining his limbs. Someone was watching him.
Peter let his gaze fall back into focus, eyes searching the shop to see who had set off the flare. His eyes lazily roamed, face as neutral as it had been a moment earlier when his gaze landed on the person at the end of the line, eyes boring into Peter’s face. Through his peripheral vision, Peter observed him as he shuffled from foot to foot.
The boy seemed to be around Peter’s age, ever so slightly taller, with black hair that almost reached his shoulders, but it didn’t look unkempt. His eyes were a dark, stormy blue, his dark eyebags accentuating his pale skin, which looked like it had never met the sun. Even without Peter’s heightened senses he could probably smell the scent of coffee that seemed to linger around every college student. It was ten times stronger on this stranger. He looked almost familiar, but Peter couldn’t quite put his finger on why.
His hair stood on end just by looking at him, and for whatever reason, Peter felt drawn to him. He was cute, whoever he was.
The stranger seemed to finally realize that Peter noticed his staring, and promptly looked away while blushing. Despite it all, Peter brushed it off, returning to attending customers. Slowly but surely, he and his coworker served each customer, some staying to eat while others left with friends. Then, when Peter turned back to the counter, he found that the strange boy from earlier was waiting, staring. Peter gave a slight frown, he could’ve sworn that his coworker was supposed to serve him. But, despite himself, Peter plastered on his best customer service smile. “Welcome to Batburger, what can I get for you today?” His customer service voice was clear and concise, lacking the usual cheeriness of most in favor of taking no nonsense. Customer service in Gotham was slightly different than in New York, but Peter found he couldn’t hate it. It was nice to not have to deal with being a doormat to jerks.
The stranger cleared his throat, rambling off an order that he seemed to know by heart. It was slightly concerning the amount of coffee he wanted, but other than that the order seemed normal, and who was Peter to judge? He had been a college student before, he thinks. Peter rang up the order, the boy handing over a card to pay. When he hadn’t immediately left to wait, Peter raised an eyebrow. “Is there something else I can do for you?” He asked, checking to see if Maddie was handling herself. She seemed to be just fine, so Peter let himself have some time to talk to this stranger.
“Uh, sorry, I was just uh…” The boy looked around, seemingly searching for something to talk about, eyes latching onto the pictures hung behind Peter. “The pictures! Behind you, they, uh, look interesting.” Despite the obvious lie, Peter felt his heart flutter. “Oh, you like them? I took the pictures myself. I’m a bit of a photography nerd,” The stranger seemed to relax, his eyes lighting up with his interest. “Really? Me too! Well, I mean it’s been a minute. But that’s really cool!” Peter smiled, blushing shyly. “How’d you get that picture of the skyline? It looks pretty high up,”
Peter blanched slightly, before swiftly recovering. “Oh, well, uh, my friend let me onto the roof of their work. They weren’t supposed to, but I’m really glad they did, otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten this amazing picture!” Peter rambled slightly. It wasn’t the whole truth, but Peter couldn’t just say he climbed a building all for a picture.
The stranger nodded, missing, or ignoring, the lie. “Wow, that’s awesome!” Peter put his hand forward, grinning. “I’m Peter, It’s nice to meet someone else who enjoys photography,” The boy took his hand, shaking lightly. “Tim.” Peter turned to his coworker, sensing she needed a bit of help, but didn’t want to ask for it. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Tim, but I’d better get back to work,” Tim nodded, his smile sheepish. “Feel free to come visit sometime though, I’d love to have someone to talk photos with!” Peter smiled at Tim, before turning to go help his coworker. He felt eyes linger on him, before turning away.
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Coffee addict: I think I just found our zombie friend
The literal sun: The one from seven months ago?
Ratatouille: where
Disney princess: OMG WHEREEEE
Disney princess: ARE YOU OKAYYYYY
Fruit ninja: Richard please, that is obnoxious.
Disney princess: IT'S FABULOUSSSS
Coffee addict: Damian’s right, that's annoying
Why he ourple: Tim agreeing with Dami? Who died
Coffee addict: Haha, funny
Coffee addict: Off topic
Coffee addict: I was at the Batburger in the Bowery, the one by Cass’ dance studio
The literal sun: Was he attacking people there?
Coffee addict: No, he was surprisingly normal
Coffee addict: No anger issues or anything
The Night: Interesting. Let’s talk about it more at the cave.
/Everyone sent thumbs up/