Chapter Text
He’d died, Peter was sure of it. He just wasn’t sure how.
His memories of the past few weeks were hazy and he had a sneaking suspicion everyone’s were, but any time he tried to bring it up they just brushed him off. All he knew was he’d woken up in his bedroom and being told he’d suffered some sort of illness so he had to take a few weeks off school. Of course he’d immediately called Mr Stark to find out what the heck was going on, but that hadn’t gone too well.
“Please, kid,” Mr Stark had said, his voice sounding far wearier than ever before. “Don’t dig too deep into this one. We were fighting and you got hurt. You’re okay now. That’s all that matters.”
“We were fighting? Who? Why? Where? Was I any help? Did I look cool?”
Mr Stark chuckled but his voice was so strained it might have been a sob. “Yeah. You were awesome.”
He’d refused to divulge any more and had soon hung up, but Peter couldn’t lay his mind to rest. There wasn’t just a haze over his memories; there was a chill in his chest that seeped through his entire body whenever he tries to turn his mind back. Something had happened. Something real bad. Something Mr Stark wanted to hide from him. He had no proof, nothing definite, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d died.
Sometimes he dreamt of turning to dust. When he woke the sensation stayed with him, so real he was sure his body was falling apart even as he held himself until the shaking stopped, tears sliding down his cheeks.
So he stayed out late, fighting crime, sitting around, watching movies, anything to avoid sleep. Which sucked. He liked sleep as much as your next still-growing-teen, but he wasn’t sure how many more nightmares he could take.
One night the streets were unusually quiet and he was out of pocket money for the cinema so he took to the rooftops to watch the stars. Or try to anyway. There was too much light pollution for anything much to be visible so he ended up just staring at the ceaseless river of headlights below, his head full of nothing. His Spiderman costume didn’t offer much insulation but the night wasn’t too cold and the occasional shivers kept him awake. Only once he felt his head start to nod and eyelids droop did he stretch and get to his feet. His apartment wasn’t too far and he was just about to shoot his first web when something triggered his Spidey-sense.
He spun on the spot, but there was nothing there. Nothing on the sides of the building either, or on the ground. “Calm down,” he whispered to himself, but the prickly sensation of alarm wouldn’t quiet. He tilted his head back to take a deep breath and then he saw it. The electric green light in the sky. Oh, so that’s what he’d sensed. He’d have to remember to check up sooner in future. He’d make a memo once he’d figured out what the heck it was and if it was likely to kill him.
The light grew larger and the hairs on the back of Peter’s neck stiffened. He stood and watched, his breath hitching faster as the light split into several smaller lights, each with a growing tail. Oh hell, that wasn’t just a light. That was stuff falling. And one was headed right for him.
Peter leapt from the roof onto the side of the building and made some quick mental calculations, firing his webbing as soon as he had the answers. Judging from the speed and the angle of trajectory, he needed to aim there, and there, and… there. Got it. His giant web stretched out between the buildings was complete just in time to catch whatever was plummeting from the sky.
Slowly, Peter peered over the edge to try and work out exactly what it was.
It looked like – it was a boy, sprawled on his back in the middle of the sagging web, only a little older than Peter himself. As the green glow surrounding him faded, Peter could pick out more details, like the long black hair crowned with a pointed golden circlet.
“Hello?” he called, his voice far less certain than he’d like. “Are you okay?” Stupid question. The kid had just fallen from space. He tried again. “Can you hear me?”
The boy didn’t move. Peter couldn’t sense if he was breathing or not, but he wasn’t dumb enough to rush right in. Normal, harmless people didn’t fall from the sky.
Then he caught the tang of metallic blood in the air and decided he could at least check if the boy was alive. Whether he was friend or foe, that would be the proper hero thing to do.
“I’m coming down, okay? Just a sec.” Peter crawled over the web to the boy’s side and knelt by his head. A trickle of blood ran down the boy’s temple and his eyes were closed, but now he was closer Peter could hear his shallow breathing. “Oh man, why don’t I carry band-aids or something?” Peter muttered, hands hovering uselessly.
The boy looked human enough, just like a regular teenager, albeit an unusually beautiful one, but his clothes looked more like a comicon costume, a mixture of green and black leather held with silver studs and a fur ruff. A hero’s costume perhaps? But Peter knew about all the heroes, or so he thought, and none looked anything like this. “What am I gonna do?”
As he spoke, the boy’s eyes fluttered open to reveal a startling green. He groaned and looked around, shrinking back as he saw Peter. “This isn’t Asgard,” he said goggily. His voice was deeper than expected and rich with ancient tone’s Peter couldn’t place. “Where am I?”
“You’re from Asgard?” Peter couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. It was alright after all. Asgard were the good guys. Then something much more important struck him. “Oh my god, do you know Thor?”
The boy groaned and rolled his eyes, then winced and bought a hand to his head. “I just get here and already you people are…” He trailed off and slumped back, out cold once more. It was okay though. He was a friend, probably. Peter picked him up as carefully as he could and stuck him tight into a piggyback position with his webbing. Looked like he’d be walking home tonight.