Kid, tell me what happened: The Sequel

dancing with a stranger

A/N: This fic is based off the novel The Starless Sea written by Erin Morgenstern. This sounded wayyy better in my head but um, yeah. If it helps to create the tone desired, play cover of Dance Monkey by Joey Stamper.

As uncomfortable as it is, Peter relinquishes in the shadows. It’s the scariest place in the whole world, dark alleys fathomed by creatures conjured of the imagination. But to Peter, it also happens to be the only place that he knew best. 

The death of Tony Stark had sent everything spiraling down. Quentin Beck labeled him as a murderer, and HYDRA titled him as Prisoner 616, only to throw him back in the world where the Avengers existed, just not formally. 

He had expected to be welcomed with open arms but found himself neglected once again. His aunt had moved on, everyone had moved on. It had seemed that everyone, except for Peter. There was nothing more painful then everyone that still lived like him moved on, suggesting that they had easily accepted his death and moved on. Which for Peter to do, would be the second hardest thing to do. Above that, was walking away from the funeral of Tony Stark. 

A soft sigh slips out of the boy’s lips as he buries his trembling hands deeper in his pockets, shivering as the cold stung around him. He hunches his shoulders over him as the cold began to bite around his neck, and Peter begins to wish that he had bought a scarf with the remaining money he had left. Oh, the things Peter wishes he could’ve done if he could turn back time to the good ol’ days. It was a shame that the time machine was destroyed, leaving all the heroes that were sacrificed, sacrificed. 

Peter increases his pace to avoid the cold that he’s grown to hate when a scrap of paper flew right past him. He would’ve ignored the paper, but his spider senses had a different idea. They tingled, practically flared and Peter caught the scrap of paper before it could smack him right in the face. 

After three months of being on the run all by himself, he can’t help but take curiosity in the cursive lettering on the paper. The paper detailed of a party, specifically a masquerade party at the hotel that he was staying tonight from eight till midnight. Naturally, Peter would’ve dismissed the paper, but something in his gut persuaded him to attend. It had been a long time since Peter went to a party, the last time he remembered attending one would be for his high school graduation, six years ago. A little fun wouldn’t hurt anyone, Peter thought as he briskly walked now with a purpose.  

He hurried back to his hotel room, having four hours to spare. Which if he managed his time properly, he’d have enough time to shower, eat, and put something together. After showering and eating, Peter rummaged through his bags of clothes to find something worthy of a New York City party. He settled on a white blouse with black dress pants and shoes. Which left a mask. 

The mask would be the most important piece of his attire. The mask would set him apart from everyone else, and make him invincible, a blurred line amongst the rest. The only mask he had was his Spiderman one, and there was no way he could show up in that. But, with a little deep searching, Peter finds a dark blue mask awaiting him. 

And like the stars in the sea, the clock chimed eight. Peter breathed in from the mask as the elevator descended onto the main lobby. A soft classical was echoing from the piano, which Peter assumed was Beethoven or someone along those lines. The rich smell of champagne and clinking glasses aroused Peter’s senses, creating a feeling of giddy to wash over the teenager. 

 They say oh my god I see the way you shine

Take your hand, my dear, and place them both in mine

Peter had to admit, the scenery is beautiful. Fuzzy colored lights twinkle across strewn curtains, revealing the light fall of snowflakes. The music isn’t too loud or too quiet, a pleasing pitch to his enhanced hearing. A concierge worker from earlier, Peter remembered approached him with a tray of sparkling glasses that Peter assumes is champagne from the intoxicating smell.