Chapter Text
It was raining outside. Water dripped steadily from the crack in the ceiling, landing in the meticulously placed pot on the floor. It was almost full, it would need to be emptied soon.
Peter was laying on his bed, watching water drop into the pot. He didn’t know how long he had been laying here. The sun had set a while ago, and he hadn’t bothered getting up to turn the light on, choosing instead to lay in the dark and let his eyes adjust.
He was still wearing his Spiderman suit, his mask had been dropped onto his desk when he had crawled in through the window earlier. His fingers ghosted over some of the little rips in the suit before reaching the bigger tear near his ribs. He ran his fingers over the gash that had now healed into a long scab.
He got the gash almost a week ago now, while stopping a drug deal. A few years ago - one year ago even - he wouldn’t have even thought he could have a week old gash. It would take three, maybe four days and it would be all healed up, good as new. But money had been tight lately, and without regular meals, his enhanced healing was struggling to keep up.
Taking a deep breath, Peter sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed so he was now sitting on the edge. He ran his hands through his hair, looking around his barren apartment. The only light in the room came from the streetlights outside his window. Peter rarely turned the lights on these days, trying to cut down his electricity bill as much as possible.
Not that he was home much anyway. Sitting in his apartment reminded him how alone he was, so he tried to avoid being home all together. He would get up in the morning and go to work at Delmar’s. Once he finished his shift around 2pm, he would head to FEAST where he would do some volunteer work or just spend time with the guests if there was nothing to help with, and then once it hit around 6:30 he would leave through the backdoor and make his way to the roof to change into his suit.
He would stay out patrolling as Spiderman for as long as his body would let him. Even when he was tired, or when the rain made his suit cling even tighter to his body and he would be shivering, thanks to his lack of thermoregulation. At least when he was Spiderman his life had some meaning. People may not know Peter Parker, but they did know Spiderman. Peter liked being Spiderman more than he liked being Peter anyway.
He glanced over at the clock near his bed. It was three o’clock in the morning. He really should go to sleep, he had to be at Delmar’s tomorrow at seven.
He stood up and began to strip out of his suit, slipping into some pajama bottoms and a baggy t-shirt. He folded his suit up, setting it on the desk next to May’s old sewing machine. Maybe he would leave FEAST a little earlier tomorrow to see if he could patch his suit up before patrolling.
He dumped the water from the pot down the sink before setting it back under where the leak was. He had told his landlord five times about the leak, but it was to no avail. No surprise there.
Peter let out a tired sigh before crawling into bed, pulling his sheets up close to try and stay warm. He knew he needed to sleep, but instead he reached for his phone which was charging on his nightstand. A little doomscrolling before bed never hurt anyone.
He swiped through different social media platforms, catching himself up on what was happening. Jameson had a new blog post complaining about him, which he scrolled right past. Flash had posted a selfie from some MIT party. Peter scanned over the photo but neither Ned or Mj were in it, so he continued scrolling.
He hated that Flash was the source he used to try and see pictures of his old friends, but it was his best chance. When he had wiped all of his social media platforms after Strange’s spell, he decided to continue following Flash. Since Flash was a wanna be influencer, he had a decent number of followers and wouldn’t look twice at Peter’s blank account following him.
He was about to turn his phone off and call it a night, when he got a notification that the official Avengers account had posted a new story. The Avengers Instagram account wasn’t used often, normally only updating when something big happened, so Peter was fast to click on it.
He froze, looking at the picture on the story. His eyes scanned over the words at the top of the screen multiple times before it really hit him what he was seeing.
We’re pleased to announce that Tony Stark has officially awoken from his coma. He is doing well and is surrounded by his loved ones. We’re sure he will make a statement in a few days, but we appreciate your love and support until then.
Peter stared at the photo for a minute. There he was. Awake. Alive.
The photo showed Tony sitting up in a hospital bed in the Avenger’s compound med bay. He was propped up on multiple pillows and had all sorts of wires connected to him. But he was alive.
His hair was messy, his beard overgrown, and he looked tired. His right arm was no longer there. In its place was a metal prosthetic arm. Not unlike the winter soldier’s, but his was instead in the signature Ironman red and gold.
Held closely under his real arm was Morgan Stark. His six year old daughter, who Peter had only met once. When he had gone to the med bay to visit him the day after he went into his coma, he had run into Pepper and Morgan who were just leaving. Morgan had apparently heard all about him, and after Peter had gone and seen Tony, Pepper had invited him to join them for lunch.
He really liked Morgan and wished he had spent more time with her. He had told her that he would see her again, but ended up getting busy with Spiderman duties. And now she didn’t know who he was. It was probably better this way.
He looked back at the picture on his screen. To Tony’s right sat Pepper Potts. She had a relieved smile on her face and one arm was around Tony’s shoulders, with her free hand holding Tony’s new prosthetic hand tightly.
Peter closed the app, turning off his phone and placing it back on his nightstand. He was glad to see that all three Starks were well. For a very brief moment, Peter considered swinging by the compound as Spiderman and seeing Tony with his own two eyes, but he quickly decided against it. He couldn’t do that. People were better off without Peter in their lives. That much had been proven.
He set his alarm for the morning and rolled over. He fell into a light, dreamless sleep as he listened to the rain drip from the ceiling into the pot on the floor.
*******
Peter’s morning had been going well. Too well. Which he should have taken as a sign that something was about to go wrong.
He had woken up and hopped into the shower, where the water was actually a little warm for once. While in the shower he allowed himself to mourn not being there with Tony for a while. He really did miss Tony, but by the end of his shower, he realized that Tony was better off without him in his life too. He had just woken up from a coma, he should be relaxing and healing with his family. Peter knew that if Tony had remembered him, he would just be stressing out about Peter, and he didn’t need that.
He reminded himself once more that this was all for the better, and that people were better off not knowing him, as he got dressed, and dumped out the pan on the floor. Thankfully it had stopped raining.
He made his way to Delmar’s and was a few hours into his shift when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
Weird. Peter didn’t get many texts these days. The only people who really texted him was Delmar when his schedule needed to be changed, and his landlord to either remind him rent was due or to thumbs up a complaint that Peter texted him about. Once in a while he would get a thank you text from Jameson, after he dropped off some photos of Spiderman. He wasn’t proud of it, but Peter needed to eat, and unfortunately, Jameson paid pretty decently for Spiderman ‘candids'.
He waited until he was on his fifteen-minute break in the back room to check his phone. He was glad he waited, because as soon as he read the text, he felt his heart skip a beat and collapsed into the chair closest to him.
Peter had purged his phone of almost all of his contacts after Strange’s spell. He didn’t want to have anyone's numbers available to him, in case he tried to text them on a particularly lonely day. He had only kept one, because he didn’t have the heart to delete the number, and he never had the urge to text it, because he knew the number’s owner was in a coma and wouldn’t respond.
Peter ran a shaky hand through his hair as he reread the text over and over.
Mr. Stark
Pete. Why is everyone pretending they have no idea who you are? I don’t know why you’re doing this, or how everyone, including a six-year-old, became such good actors while I was comatose, but it isn’t funny.
What the hell?
Peter jumped to his feet and began pacing the break room. This wasn’t right. How did Tony remember him? This was wrong. He wasn’t supposed to remember Peter. He couldn’t. This stupid spell had proven that everyone was better off not knowing who Peter was. So why was Tony texting him? Why did he know who Peter was?
He didn’t know what to do, so he did what he did best and just ignored it. He told himself he would deal with this later, at home. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, splashed his face with cold water in the bathroom, and went back to work.
Peter didn’t look at his phone again until he was at FEAST. He had been there for a couple hours, helping sort through boxes of clothes that had been donated. Once he finished the box he was working on, he pulled out his phone and immediately regretted it when he was met with more texts from Tony.
Kid, seriously. Answer me, this isn’t funny.
Peter.
Peter, what the fuck is going on? Enough is enough, call your little prank off and come to the compound.
Peter?
Do they seriously not remember you? What’s going on?
Pete, Dr. Cho thinks I’m schizophrenic and is trying to give me more meds, this would seriously be a good time to show up and explain.
Peter. Call me.
The texts were followed by six missed calls.
Peter bit his lip. He started to type out a message before quickly deleting it. No, it was better to ignore him. Peter had no idea why or how Tony remembered him, but it didn’t matter. Tony would give up eventually and move on without him, the way he was supposed to.
He took a steadying breath before doing what he couldn’t do before and blocking Tony’s number.
There. Now he couldn’t contact Peter. He would have no choice but to move on and forget about him like everyone else.
He shoved his phone back into his pocket before pulling over another box of clothes and getting to work sorting them out.
*******
Tony P.O.V
“Here, sweetheart, have some water.”
Tony looked up from his phone to see Pepper trying to hand him a cup of ice water. He ignored her, looking back down at his phone.
He had tried to send more texts, but his messages were no longer going through. Neither were the calls. It was like he had been blocked, but there was no way Peter would block him. Not to brag, but Peter had been glowing when Tony first gave him his phone number. He wouldn’t block him.
“Tony, please,” Pepper begged, running a gentle hand through his messy hair.
Tony looked up at her again. “I’ll drink water when you stop pretending you don’t know who Peter is.”
Pepper looked at him with a worried expression that had been getting worse every time he asked about Peter.
“Tony, why would I lie to you? I seriously have no idea who Peter Parker is, no one does. I think you’re just a little confused. Dr. Cho said that that is to be expected. You’ve been in a coma for over a year.”
Tony shook his head. He was about to start complaining again, when the door opened. He glanced over and felt relief wash over him at the sight of the man standing in the doorway.
“Oh Happy!” Pepper greeted him. The two of them exchanged a hug before Happy came closer to Tony’s bed.
“How are you doing?” Happy asked, looking him over closely.
Tony smiled, happy to see his friend.
“I’m great. Good as new. It’s taking a minute to learn how to use the new arm, but I’ll get it down.”
Happy smiled, “I’m glad you’re awake, Tony.”
“Me too. And I’m glad you’re here, Happy. I know you’ll remember.”
“Tony, don’t,” Pepper sounded exasperated.
Happy looked between the two of them in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Everyone is saying that they don’t know Peter, and frankly it’s getting on my nerves. I’ve been in a coma for over a year, I do not appreciate being messed with so soon after waking up.” He stared up at Happy, waiting for the moment he would laugh and say ‘gotcha” but it never came.
Happy furrowed his eyebrows, glancing over at Pepper for a moment.
“Peter? Peter who?”
Tony felt the panic he had been working so hard on holding back start to claw itself to the surface.
“Peter. Peter Parker. My intern. He- he was my intern but he was my kid, remember? I took him to Germany, he came to work in the lab with me three times a week. You would pick him up from school - Midtown High - and bring him to the tower. You were dating his aunt! Happy, c’mon, I know you know Peter.” Tony sounded frantic, even to himself.
Happy looked confused. “Parker? I… I dated a May Parker but that was-”
“Yes!” Tony interrupted him, “See! You remember! May Parker is Peter’s aunt. Call her, Happy. Tell her to bring Peter and come over here, she’ll explain what’s going on.”
He watched as Pepper and Happy exchanged worried looks. When Happy next spoke, his voice was slow and soft, like he was talking to a scared child.
“Tony. May Parker is dead. And she didn’t have a nephew named Peter.”
Tony froze. “What? She isn’t- When did she-”
Happy looked upset, staring down at his shoes. “She died about a year ago. She got caught up in something Spiderman was dealing with and she was killed.”
Tony felt his heart drop to his stomach. May died because of something Spiderman was dealing with? God, Peter must feel awful. He needed to see him now.
“Spiderman is Peter Parker. May’s nephew. Happy, you know this.” Tony pleaded.
“Sweetheart,” Pepper murmured, taking his real hand into her own, “I keep telling you, no one knows who Spiderman is. His identity is a secret. You’ve even asked Friday, she has no memories of any Peter Parker, and she doesn't know Spiderman's identity."
“May worked closely with Spiderman, but she didn’t have a nephew,” Happy added. He looked more worried than when he had first entered the room.
Tony shook his head. “She did,” he insisted. “Her nephew was Peter Parker, who is Spiderman. He was my intern and basically my kid. Pepper, you loved Peter, and you did too, Happy, even though you pretended you didn’t. Rhodey knew Peter. Dr Cho knew who Peter was too, she would always patch him up when he got hurt as Spiderman. Even Morgan knew about Peter, I told her stories about him for five years during the blip. I- I was going to introduce them.”
“I’m going to talk to Helen,” Pepper said, giving his hand a squeeze and walking out of the room.
Tony turned to look at Happy with desperate, pleading eyes.
“Happy. Please?”
He didn’t know what exactly he was begging for. All he knew was that if people really didn’t know who Peter was, then Peter must be alone right now. He should be here with him.
Tony had no idea what was going on, but he was going to fix this somehow.