Peter—no, Spider-man. Peter hasn't existed since Strange wiped the memory of him five years ago.
He stands on a rooftop, mask off, talking to Natasha.
"You lied to me."
She looks sad.
"Five years ago—*five years* ago, when Strange was erasing you from existence, you said you would make us remember. You *lied*" She looked at him, eyes shiny.
"I *tried*" His voice cracked. "I did try, Nat. You couldn't remember me." Tears welled up in his eyes. "Neither could Rhodey, or Happy or.."
He trailed off, "Tony." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I even tracked down Bruce–Hulk? He couldn't remember either."
He looked at Natasha, "I didn't want to push you guys, or take any extreme measures–"
"You should've taken extreme measures!" She shouts, stomping towards him. "You should have made us remember instead of being alone for five years."
"I'd rather be alone for a century than hurt the people I love." He stares at her, unwavering. "You're better off without me."
"No, we're not."
"Yes, you are. This way, nobody gets hurt." He smiles sadly, "I'm better off alone, Nat."
"You are not better off alone. No one is. No one has ever been alone and happy."
"I never said I was happy." He smiles sadly at her, and she can see how aged and exhausted he looks for a twenty-two year old.
"What happened?" She asks. Five years changes a person.
"Nothing. I've always been like this, I'm just too tired to pretend, Nat." He sighs as if he were older and wiser than her.
"Please leave. You're better off without me. I don't want you to get hurt."
"I can protect myself just fine. You don't have to do this to yourself to protect me."
"I'm protecting myself, Nat."
"I can't," his voice cracks. "I can't watch another person I love die." Tears fall silently down his cheeks.
"Please, leave. Do it for me, *please*."