Spider-Man: Homeless

Peter One

Peter Parker didn't even try to look away as he passed MJ's coffee shop. He didn't see her in the window.

He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and dropped his head lower into the collar of his coat, trying to tell himself it was from the cold.

But there was no way he'd ever believe that.

He knew he needed to stop walking, and occasionally swinging, past this place. He needed to stop wishing to pass his classmates on the streets and hoping that their eyes would light up in recognition.

He needed to stop hoping.

If you expect disappointment...

He shut the thought down before he could finish it.

Losing Aunt May was enough. He never thought he'd choose to lose MJ and Ned too.

He didn't regret it. He couldn't regret it. After all, if he hadn't done it he would've shattered his universe.

But that didn't stop him from missing them.

He was still Spider-Man. That wouldn't ever change, no matter how much they tried to claim he was the villain of the story.

Mysterio was right. 

The words still haunted him, even though the nightmare was past. Because even though he'd helped save the world- his actions had almost doomed it.

Because he wanted to help his friends get into college- something that was also his fault.

What kind of person asked for a spell like that?

Certainly not an Avenger.

Certainly not Tony.

The best he could do was put on the suit every day of his life and do what he could to help people, while working a minimum wage job and doing what he could to get into college.

But after the records of his existence had disappeared, after he found that his high school had no memory of him ever going there, he knew it was a lost cause.

So an empty apartment and the secret of Spider-Man was all he'd ever own.

It was all he deserved.

But he also remembered the promise he'd made to MJ.

The kiss they sealed it with, and the terror in her eyes when she thought of losing her memories forever. He'd promised her it would all be okay. That he'd find her.

And he did.

And he'd walked away.

It had felt like the right thing at the time. After all, she seemed happy. She and Ned both did. They were heading to MIT. They had futures ahead of them.

But was it fair of him to leave them in the dark? To keep parts of their lives to himself, parts of their lives that he'd stolen from them?

He'd promised them that they'd remember. He knew that the old MJ would've dragged him back there, would've made him explain it all. But he also knew that a spell couldn't be reversed. And this one, if reversed, would put the rift in the universe right back where it came from.

Yes, he needed MJ and Ned after all he'd lost. He needed them more than anything else in the world. And a few months ago, nothing would've stopped him from getting them back.

But a few months ago, he hadn't yet tampered with a spell that not only cost the lives of tens of people and injured many others, but seriously messed up their lives.

He wanted them back more than anything. And he knew that they'd want their memories back. But he knew that they could be happy having forgotten him. So he'd tread carefully.

And if someday, he had a chance, he'd take them back in an instant.

It was almost as easy as that. Almost simple to say that he'd leave them alone.

But there was the issue of his own feelings.

Could he stop himself from going after them? Could he break his promise, for their own good?

It was moments like these when he missed Aunt May the most. She always knew exactly how to make the right decision.

She would know what to do.

But she was gone. And even though it was an accident... indirectly, he was responsible.

He knew that MJ would tell him not to blame himself. So would Ned.

But they were gone too.

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Peter flipped the lights on in his three-room apartment, watching as the lightbulb sputtered and finally lit, bathing his dingy home in orange-tinted light. The dirty wooden walls held a window, directly in front of him, and a calendar, hanging in the short hallway to his left, that told him it had been exactly thirty-two days since everything had changed.

When MJ and Ned had passed out on the Statue of Liberty after having their memories wiped.

When he'd swung them home, remembering with tear-filled eyes how much MJ would've hated him for it.

When he'd snuck in their houses and left them in their beds, leaving them to wake up when they were ready.

And then it was over.

The other two Peters, the only two people who could've told him what to do, were gone too.

He'd only known them for less than a day, but he had never felt anything like what he had with them. They were him, but had lived very different lives.

But at the same time, they hadn't. And they could've helped him get through this.

What he wouldn't give for his thoughts to find another direction. But for the past month, all he could think was they're gone too.

Because he'd lost anyone that could ever help him.