Chapter Text
Being the one and only Spider-Man, Peter has found himself in a lot of weird and difficult situations. He’s gone to an alien planet, died on an alien planet, fought people from different universes, and has made the entire world forget of his existence, to name a few. Safe to say, Peter was no stranger to weird situations. However, standing in front of a memorial for himself that definitely was for Tony before is definitely not how Peter was planning on spending his Tuesday.
The memorial was surrounded in flowers, candles (that smelled quite nice), and a group of people that seemed to almost be…mourning Spider-Man? Last time Peter checked he wasn’t dead; maybe he was wrong? He lightly patted his leg to make sure he was still solid. Nope, still alive, he thought with relief when his fingers didn’t pass through his skin. Peter continued to stare at the memorial in confusion before he decided to figure out what was going on.
“Excuse me, uhm, sorry for interrupting but—” Peter began to ask one of the mourners near him, before getting cut off.
“Be quiet, boy.” An old man spat at him, not looking up from where he was praying.
“So sorry but, what is this memorial for?” The old man looked up at Peter’s words, seething with anger.
“Excuse me? Spider-Man gave up his life for the entire universe, and here you are, interrupting a memorial service for him while wearing a shabby replica of his suit?!” The old man spat out, scornfully glaring at Peter’s suit. Peter almost scoffed at the insulting words the old man was spitting at him. (Sewing wasn’t his strong suit, thank you very much!)
It was only once the old man moved away, muttering angrily, to continue praying elsewhere that Peter processed his words. Gave up his life for the entire universe? What the hell. Peter quickly turned and walked away, trying to get as far away from the mural as he could, as if that would change his situation. He ended up walking to a nearby alley, one that he frequented a lot right after the spell. Whenever he couldn’t find a warm rooftop to sleep on, he often slept in this warm, yet admittedly very dirty, alley way, so it is not a surprise his feet led him here.
He sat down against the wall, pulling his mask off to breathe. Once he had gotten his breathing under control, he thought over his predicament. It was clear to him that he had somehow ended up in an alternate universe, that was a no brainer. What was stumping him however is what had caused him to be sent here?
The last thing he remembered was passing out in an alley. He was helping some old ladies put away their groceries when suddenly his spider sense was going off. Following it led him to a dark alleyway three blocks over. Peter swore there wasn’t an alley way there before, but he thought he must have been misremembering things. Upon walking in, he saw a normal alley way. Nothing seemed to be wrong or dangerous in the alley, so after a minute of looking around he decided that his spider sense was just going crazy. Just as he was about to take a step out of the alley, the ground beneath him suddenly disappeared and he abruptly passed out. When he regained consciousness again, he was lying face first on the street with the mural.
So he walked into a magical (there was literally no way magic wasn’t at fault for this) alley way, passed out, and woke up in an alternate universe? Really? Peter groans at how little information he has. He sat there in the alley way for a long time, thinking about what his next step should be. When he couldn’t think of anything, he allowed himself to nerd out at the situation.
Sure, he was stuck in an alternate universe, one where apparently he died, but he also experienced multiversal travel himself for the first time. He knew that it was possible from the whole multiple Peters fiasco a few years ago, but knowing it can happen and having it happen to you are two completely separate things. He wondered if this was how the two Peters felt when suddenly he was struck with an idea. Honestly Peter was a little dumb for not thinking of this earlier, but he was too busy freaking out over the concept of multiversal travel, so sue him! (Please don’t, he only has ten dollars and a blue Skittle.)
With a plan forming in his mind, Peter stood up and swung out of the alleyway with a destination in mind.
_ _ _
After a few minutes of swinging through the city, he ended up in front of a building he honestly never wanted to see again, 177A Bleecker Street, also known as the Sanctum Sanctorum. He hadn’t been inside since his previous incident with the multiverse so coming back left a bad taste in his mouth. As he approached the doors of the building, they suddenly opened on their own, seemingly inviting Peter in. The lobby of the sanctum was empty save for a couple of couches and bookshelves. Peter pulled his mask off as he entered the building before going over to sit on one of the couches. Suddenly, a loud voice cut through the silence of the empty building.
“Who are— Peter?!”
Peter stood up from where he was sitting, turning to face Doctor Strange. The sorcerer was floating down the stairs holding a mug, although he had almost spilled his drink when Peter turned around.
“Uh– hi…?” Peter awkwardly said, shrugging his shoulders slightly. The way in which the sorcerer had said his name startled him. He wasn’t used to people saying his name with recognition behind it, let alone saying it at all.
Doctor Strange stared at Peter for a long while before he seemed to figure out something.
“You aren’t from this universe, are you?”
“No sir, I’m not. How did you…know?” Peter squeaked out.
Doctor Strange gestured for Peter to follow him down a hallway. Peter obliged and walked right behind him.
“I was just made aware that something had traveled across the multiverse and arrived here and then I found you. The fact that you died five months ago kinda gives you away, kid. Also, call me Stephen.” The sorcerer said bluntly.
“Oh. Well I really have to get back to my universe.”
Doctor Strange abruptly stopped walking and grabbed onto Peter's arm. Peter felt a strange power for a moment before it stopped, and suddenly Doctor Strange was staring at Peter in concern but continued walking.
“Do you really want to go back there? I looked at your memories— your life has been very sad after my alternate counterpart ruined your life, sorry about that by the way.” The concern in his voice was palpable, despite how he tried to hide it.
“I have to go back. If I stay here, the stability of this universe will—”
“The stability of this universe is completely fine. If it wasn't, I'd be sending you back without thinking. Strangely, it seems as if this universe is accepting you as one of its own, not as an intruder.”
Peter pauses as he takes in that information. He wasn't a danger to the universe? How?
“How is it still stable? Last time—” Peter asks while continuing to follow Doctor Strange. They had begun to descend down an old set of stairs.
“Last time, it was the messed up spell that almost tore your universe apart, not the people it brought in.” Doctor Strange interrupted. They finally had reached the bottom of the stairwell, and they were in a strange, ruin-like room. The walls were crumbling in certain places, and there was a sense of ancientness in the air.
Doctor Strange gestured for Peter to stand in the middle of the ruins. There was a raised platform with pillars in the middle, almost like a pavilion.
“So, you want me to send you back?” The sorcerer inquires, looking at Peter to be sure.
Do I? Peter asks himself, unsure of the answer. Realistically, he knew he had to. Even with Doctor Strange's reassurance that the world won't fall apart, the sorcerer can't guarantee that forever. Selfishly, Peter felt himself wanting to stay. There was nothing left for him in his universe, no friends or family, and in recent years the hatred New York felt for him had reached record highs. He truly had no reason to go back to his own universe, but he couldn't be selfish. If he stayed, he would be putting the lives of everyone in the universe at risk, just so he could see his friends and family again.
“Yes. Send me back.” Peter choked out, despite every atom in his body screaming no, I want to stay please let me stay don't make me leave.
Doctor Strange stared at Peter for a few moments before sighing.
“Very well.”
The sorcerer began casting a very complicated spell, his hands moving rapidly in every direction before a ring of orange suddenly appeared. He looked at Peter one last time before sending the spell at him.
“Nice to see you again, Peter Parker.”
Peter felt the spell hit him as he closed his eyes. He waited, and waited and waited for something to change.
But nothing happened.
Doctor Strange cleared his throat before casting the spell again, sending it right back at Peter.
Peter literally just stood there while nothing happened.
“Ok…maybe that's not the right spell,”
Doctor Strange mumbles to himself before casting a different spell. He sent that spell at Peter as well, only for the same result.
“Is…is something supposed to be happening?” Peter asked, blankly staring at Doctor Strange.
“You should be going back to your universe. It's not working, for some reason…”
Doctor Strange thought for a moment before he casted another spell at Peter, only for it to fail as well.
Over the next thirty minutes, Doctor Strange tried over and over again with a multitude of spells to send Peter back to his own universe to no avail. Eventually, the sorcerer put his hands up in exasperation and began shooing Peter out of the underground room.
“Give me some time to think this over. It's as if your universe is rejecting you. I'll reach out to you when I've figured it out, literally. Your presence and any information you share shouldn't harm this world, so you can wander around the city all you'd like in the meantime. Now go, be free.” Doctor Strange said, before literally shoving Peter out of the door. He stood there in confusion for a few moments before he walked away from the Sanctum.
With nothing better to do, Peter swung over to a public library to use one of the computers. On the way there, he realized that he probably shouldn't just walk in while wearing his Suit. The mourners back at the mural seemed very upset with him for wearing it, but he simply didn't have any other clothes. He thought about heading back to the Sanctum to ask for some, but while he was swinging a clothesline caught his eye. It'll be okay, he thought to himself as he stopped. They won't even notice if one or two things are missing.
Ten minutes later, Peter walked into the public library while wearing a pink crop top and jean shorts. Admittedly not the worst outfit he's borrowed recently, but it's definitely up there. After getting directions from a nice old librarian, he finally sat down at one of the public computers. He nearly crushed the mouse he was holding when he saw that the date ended in 2023.
_ _ _
Peter spent the next two days researching the universe he ended up in and stopping some crime as Spider-Man. It was weird while he was on patrol because the criminals would freeze, stare at him as if they've seen a ghost (which was actually really accurate if he thought about it), and then run. Safe to say, Peter had stopped so many more crimes than normal while not getting hurt.
While he wasn't patrolling or doing research, he was typically chilling in his suit on top of whatever rooftop he finds, like he was currently. Whenever he'd hear another crime, he'd go and stop it before heading to another rooftop. He was actually getting quite bored of just sitting atop rooftops, but he didn't have anything else to do. So, to pass the time, he thought about his loved ones.
Peter knew that he couldn't interact with them in this universe, it would be too cruel to them ( and to him ) to see them if he was just going to be leaving again. He couldn't do that to them. So to keep himself from going to see them, he thought about what interacting with them would cause.
He imagined seeing May again, they'd cry together, and then Peter would tell her that he's leaving. She'd get so adamant about the fact that he must stay that he probably wouldn't leave, but he has to.
He pictured seeing MJ and Ned again. MJ would probably punch him, to get back at him for dying, before the three of them would dissolve into a pile of crying. Ned would probably make a joke about how cool multiversal travel is. They'd all be happy together again. Then Peter would tell them he's leaving again. They would refuse to let him and then he probably wouldn't leave. He has to leave.
He imagines seeing Tony again— oh god, Tony's alive— He distantly realized that Tony was still alive in this universe, but he never fully thought it. It seemed too good to be true, too good that acknowledging it feels like it will cause the opposite to occur.
If he saw Tony again, Tony would probably hug him at first, would think he got his innocent protégé back. Then, however, he would realize how different Peter's become. Peter, who had lost everyone. Peter, who became bitter and angry after Aunt May's death. Peter, who tried to kill a man in a fit of hysterical rage. Tony would realize just what kind of person Peter truly was and he wouldn't want him. The truth settled harshly in Peter's gut. His mentor, the man Peter has mourned and looked up to for years, wouldn't want him if he knew what kind of person he truly was.
Peter quickly stood up from his spot on his rooftop, throwing his suit on in a rush to just get out of there. (When he stood, he got hit with a rush of dizziness from not having eaten in two days, but he brushed it off) Once he was sure that his suit was correctly concealing his identity, he leaped off of the side of the rooftop, violently shooting a web out (he had yet to get used to just how harshly he could throw out webs with his organic ones). He began to swing around the city, narrowly missing buildings and signs. He needed out of his head, and swinging was the best way to achieve that. The thrill of nearly hitting buildings or almost falling was a surefire way to make someone stop thinking.
After multiple hours of swinging through the city, he eventually collapsed onto the top of a rooftop. Peter only intended to rest for a few minutes, but he clearly fell asleep because the next time he opened his eyes, he was staring up at the dark night sky. As he laid there, he just listened to the city around him. Peter could hear people talking below him, a bird flying a couple streets away, the distant sounds of an arc-reactor powered ironman suit, a baby crying, repulsors slowly getting closer and closer, and—
Peter quickly sat up and stared into skyline above, praying to any god up there that he somehow misheard it—
Peter's eye caught on a small red and gold blip rapidly approaching his location, the distinct color of an arc reactor glowing on its chest.
Well, fuck. Peter thought to himself, before realizing that he needed to move. He tried to shoot a web out to swing off of, but nothing came out. He tried again and again, only for a small amount of ooze to come out (ew.) Peter then tried to climb down the side of the building, but it was too late. Across the roof from him stood an Ironman suit, staring directly at him.
Peter prayed that maybe it was an empty one just here to tell him off, but his prayers were not answered when Tony Stark himself stepped out of it.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, impersonating a dead kid who saved the whole entire world, which includes your sorry ass?!” Tony demands, shouting at the top of his lungs. Peter could tell that Tony wasn't doing well. He could hear Tony's heart pounding in his chest, just slightly weaker than average. He could hear the slight choke in his voice as he yelled at Peter. He could see how the perpetual eyebags underneath the man's eyes had somehow gotten worse.
Too caught up in analyzing every bit of his mentor, Peter didn't remember to answer until Tony glared even harder.
“I–I'm not—”
“Don't you dare say you aren't impersonating Spider-Man, a kid who had more kindness in his pinkie toe than you have in your whole body— my kid,” Tony shouts, his voice breaking a little on the last couple words. “I've seen you swinging around the city these last couple days. I thought maybe you'd eventually get the memo that impersonating a dead child is cruel and sadistic, but it seems you can't get it in your tiny little brain unless Ironman himself comes and tells you. You are a horrible person. Did you know that Spider-Man's aunt cried when she first saw the articles about you? She came into my lab and cried. She's mourning for her baby, the one that you think would be funny to act as. Newsflash dipshit, it isn't. Was it worth it? Was your little two seconds of popularity worth it?”
Peter sat there, stunned, at Tony's words. He felt himself begin to cry under his mask, the cheap fabric beginning to get soaked, but he couldn't bring himself to care. His mentor was right there. Yelling at him while also defending him at the same time. Tony's right there he's alive Peter can hear his heart beat he's not dead Tony is right there.
Seemingly getting more frustrated at Peter for not answering, Tony continued yelling.
“Take your fucking mask off right now. Show me just what kind of person would impersonate Spider-Man, what kind of person would think the pain of others mourning is funny.”
Distantly, Peter felt himself reach up to take his mask off, but he's too focused on the fact that Tony is alive in front of him to notice. When Peter's mask came off, he let the flimsy piece of fabric fall to the floor in a wet glop. Peter finally looked Tony in the eyes without his mask for the first time, and Peter literally heard the man's heart speed up. Peter heard his breathing pick up, and heard the words he was going to scream dying on his tongue.
Tony was staring at Peter in pure shock, his mouth hanging open, his eyebrows raised so high that they would pop off of his head if they went any higher.
“Peter…?” Tony choked out before practically lunging across the roof at Peter. Peter felt Tony immediately grab onto him, pulling him into the tightest hug of his life. Tony was holding him so tightly that Peter felt as if his bones would break. Peter couldn't blame the man for holding him so tightly, Peter was doing the exact same thing to him.
“M-m'ster Stark..” Peter sobbed, holding onto his mentor like a lifeline.
The two men stood there holding each other for what seemed like a second and an eternity at the same time before Tony spoke up.
“Kid..” Tony said, his voice rough with tears. “How are you…”
“Alive..?” Peter provided when Tony trailed off. When Tony nodded, Peter took a deep breath to calm his tears. The breath did nothing. “It's a— it's a really…really long story.”
Tony tried to laugh at Peter's words, but it came out more as a sad chuckle than a true laugh. “Well we have all the time in the world, don't we?”
Tony's words were like a bucket of ice being poured over Peter. They didn't have all of the time in the world. He shouldn't be doing this. He was going to leave. He has to leave. Peter couldn't stay there. Peter was being so incredibly selfish by staying there with his mentor, every additional second passing was only making it worse.
Peter tried to pry himself out of Tony's arms, but the man was holding too tightly. Panicked, Peter pushed the man away in a desperate attempt to leave. He saw confusion and hurt bleed into Tony's expression.
“Pete..?”
“I'm so sorry Mr. Stark— I have to go— I–I can't stay here— I'm so selfish I'm sorry I'm—”
Peter desperately tried to shoot a web to get away, but nothing would come out. As he continued to frantically attempt to shoot a web, he didn't notice how much his feet began swaying beneath him. He didn't notice how his vision began blurring at the edges because he was so focused on getting out of there.
Peter didn't notice anything was wrong, right up until he was diving headfirst onto the floor. In his last moments of consciousness, he heard his father frantically call out his name.
“PETER!?”