heyja

Part 1

I am peter parker and I exist. I exist. He tells himself over and over again. Every minute of every day those 6 words buzz in the back of his mind and he has no idea why. Maybe it's to prove himself something -even when he has no idea what it is- or perhaps it's a way to hide how lonely he truly is. But everything else on this earth points to the fact he no longer exists. No one has his documents, past paper trails, photos, information, or memories of him—no one to recall anything about him, not even his name. Peter is no longer a person to the people he considers family instead he is just a distant blur walking down the streets to them.

And that's not even the worst of it, no documents mean no job, and no job means he's homeless right in the dead of a freezing cold winter and starving four times as bad then if he didn't have a tremendously fast metabolism.  Its moments like these where is lying down, crushing his knees to his shaking body behind a dumpster in an enclosed alleyway, Peter wishes to neglect the concept of time till someone finally decides to waltz In on a horse and save him.

Peter had been surprised by the little things he missed about the life that he was stripped from. He had expected to miss Ned and Mj and to weep in endless tears till he was walking around with thousands of sharp stabbing glass shards in his heart. He hadn't expected to miss Flash and his bullying during middle school, his painfully springy mattress, or even his mile-long DVD collection of each and every movie he had watched.

Yet after all this time living on the street was still tough. After Doctor Strange made everyone forget him he had no clue what he was doing. Peter Benjamin Parker was too soft to be living on the streets back then, he was only freshly 14. He was as soft and frail as the snow currently around him. Peter was scared constantly of being mugged while he was elsewhere but over time learned to keep all valuables on him. Plus the Spider-man suit kept some of the warmth in and always bring his notebook, non-stop writing and drawing whatever comes to his mind keeps him from looking to displaced in the library he uses to steal warmth for a couple of hours almost every day.

He is still fragile and only slightly older by a year and a half but he is learning more and more every day to survive and make his way through life on his own. He has learned how to work with what he had, how to make something out of nothing but scraps that were thrown away, and how not to let himself be taken advantage of any more not like how he used to, he could no longer tolerate beatings as it would only lower his, already slim, chance of surviving past 20. This was a must-have skill to keep his body and soul together during the freezing cold months and the summer beatings of rather disgusted pass-byers or other homeless people that are as territorial as dogs.

He had to keep creating new ways of keeping himself occupied in order to decrease the amount of time he had to spend on the streets, William, one of the few kind people Peter has met while living on the street, was a homeless vet that has been living on the streets for twenty years. With his help, Peter learns to survive and try to find his place in this new world. This life of constant change and not knowing what comes next has become his normal and he still learns to adapt to it. William was the only person he could trust. He really would be lost without him,  William helps with everything he can no matter how big or small, no matter if it's checking out books from the library so peter could study for his high school diploma or if it's saving up money for it. 

As time went by, Peter has grown accustomed to the life of back-aching periods of sleep on the streets and living off of what he can find in the dumpster next to a small and quiet park. He quickly learned that the streets were not a place to be taken lightly and has become more independent through his experiences, he wishes he could say stronger too but strong people can reverse their mistakes but that is impossible for peter. He screwed everything up all because he threw a strop about getting rejected from his dream high school and he didn't even think to just call them? what kind of a weak stupid moron collapses the whole multiverse because he couldn't get something? What is he, a toddler? 

As the sun started to creep up over the horizon, William gently nudged Peter into consciousness. "Ey Peter, wake up. It's 8, let's go somewhere warmer so you don't freeze off your tits" A deep whispering voice grumble while a hand was still shaking Peter awake. His eye opened wide with panic getting ready to attack before realising it was just William. He sighed and got up, suddenly realizing how cold it had gotten overnight as chills ran down his back. William was right, it was time to find somewhere else to go now that places were opening. He looked up and silently thanked his companion before they started packing and left. As the two of them trudged on, the morning grew a tad warmer. They made their way through the empty streets and eventually reached a small but busy soup kitchen that gives out food at least 3 times a week. Pushing open rusty metal doors, they stepped inside and looked around for a suitable place to rest and eat. William immediately set about to find the closest set to the heater or anything else that would make Peter raise his temperature even though he has no idea that he's spiderman, peter told him he has a condition where his body struggles to cool down and warm up after the second time his body just shut down in front the man as he trying to get him to a hospital. That would have been terrible as it just would have been a whole lot of unanswered questions and debt.

After the queue had nearly cleared, they decided to join it themselves Peter was also grateful that they didn't have to wait too long. He was starting to feel a little dizzy, and he knew that couldn't be good. They were serving chicken with mashed potatoes that smelled like heaven. When they got to the front of the line, Peter took the serving from the regular volunteer. He felt like he was going to pass out if he didn't get some fluids in him soon. The woman behind the counter was very nice and chatted with him for a moment before giving them their food. Peter thanked her again and walked away from the counter. It took everything he had not to collapse right there on the ground in front of everyone so he quickly put his food down and grabbed a wooden fork. He sat at the table and started to eat, trying to ignore the dizziness that was slowly creeping up on him. "um William I'm going to get some coffee you went any?" Peter pointed to the drinks counter behind him. William nodded and smiled, "yeah I'll go get some, I think my old friend is there." He stood up and walked over to the counter with the younger man.

William walked up to the counter and smiled at a tall man with dark brown hair behind it. The man seemed really familiar but he couldn't place him. The likelihood that Peter knew the man was high, but whether he actually knew him is uncertain. "hey, how are you doing Man? It's good to see ya again" William asked as the other man smiled. "I should be asking you that. I'm fine though, how are you holding up?"

Oh shit. Peter recognized his voice immediately. It was Sam Wilson aka the falcon, the man he had fought against in Germany.

"I'm okay, I guess. It's hard to say how well I'm doing." Sam nodded and smiled at him, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

Peter felt awkward, his hands began to shake, and his heart started racing. Standing there was Sam, he had no idea what to feel, all his emotions were starting to bleed into each other after all this time of never seeing anyone from his old life he started to think he wouldn't. He knew he couldn't leave just yet it would be way too awkward and William would know something is off as he still hadn't gotten his sugar-filled, boiling coffee.