Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“It’s been a few weeks since the fiasco on the Statue of Liberty, and Spider-Man’s cultists continue to contend that the vile vigilante is a hero. But if he were a hero, he’d unmask himself and tell us who he really is. Because only a coward conceals his identity. Only a coward hides his true intentions. Rest assured, ladies and gentlemen, that this reporter will uncover those-”

MJ sighed in annoyance as she clicked the power button on the TV in the coffee shop. She’d been listening to Jameson rant about Spider-Man for the last 10 minutes and her patience was at an all time low. Blissful silence filled the shop as she braced her hands on the cool countertop and pitched her head forward, hanging it low. It had been a quiet Sunday afternoon, so she had very little to do, but something had been bothering her for the last few days. She got irritated when she couldn’t figure things out, and Jameson’s inane chatter certainly hadn’t been helping. With the TV off, she was finally able to treat herself to a few seconds of peace and quie-

Ding!

The doorbell rang, cutting off her train of thought. Ugh. So much for peace and quiet. She forced herself to stand up and flash a smile at the newcomer- a boy with a mop of brown curly hair, probably around her age, holding a crumpled piece of paper and staring at her like he’d seen a ghost. She avoided his gaze, grabbing a rag and pretending to clean the counters- normally people took a few minutes to figure out what to order anyways, and she didn’t want to just stand there and stare right back at him.

“Hi. Can I help you?” she asked pointedly after a few seconds of him staring at her.

He started, almost as if surprised that she had spoken to him. “Hi. Um…” he paused for a brief second. “My name is Peter Parker.” he said, haltingly, all at once. It was kind of funny, actually, how his words tumbled over each other. “And I…” he hesitated, again, and she was left staring at him. This whole interaction was quite strange, but he seemed to be battling with something big internally, and she didn’t feel like pushing him. Maybe he had social anxiety, who knows. Wasn’t up to her to judge. “I…. would like a coffee. Please.” He said after a great deal of deliberation.

Her eyebrow quirked up. All that buildup for just a coffee? It was kind of anticlimactic, if she was being honest. She shrugged it off. “Okay, no problem, Peter Parker.” she said easily, with a tiny smile, hoping that her joking tone would help ease his nerves a bit. It didn’t seem to work- if anything, he just looked more sad.

The doorbell rang again and she glanced up quickly, a relieved smile splitting across her face when she saw her best friend, Ned, come in. She raised her hand in greeting, and Peter’s eyes flashed with… hope? It was fast, and the spark extinguished when Ned walked past him and towards the counter that MJ was standing at. She shook it off and turned her attention to her best friend, grabbing a donut and a coffee (with milk and two teaspoons of sugar, just how he liked it) to slide in front of him.

“Donuts for my fellow engineer.” she said jokingly.

“Wait what?” Ah, good old Ned, always quite clueless. It was endearing.

“MIT, they have the engineers.” She explained easily, and Ned snorted.

“Right, right. I should probably know that.” he said sheepishly, before grinning. “Hey, look at you with the school spirit.”

She shook her head and a faint blush heated her cheeks. “Yeah if anybody asks, I don’t have it.” Then she heard the squeak of shoes shuffling awkwardly against the tile floor and her head shot up, realizing she’d forgotten about Peter. Oops. Luckily, he didn’t seem to be mad, he was just staring at them with a… wistful expression. “One second.” She muttered to Ned, who waved her off when he saw Peter standing there.

She hurried herself with making a coffee. It seemed to come on instinct, and before she knew what she was doing, she had thrown some sugar in already. She paused, realizing her mistake. Peter had just ordered a coffee- like, a regular black coffee, she assumed, since he didn’t specify. But something like instinct had taken over, a familiarity that didn’t make sense. She’d never seen this boy before but somehow sensed he liked his coffee with sugar. She shook her head slightly and looked back and forth between the cup and the coffee maker. This had been the last of the pot she’d brewed, and she didn’t want to keep him waiting any longer than she already had to brew a whole new pot. She’d just have to give it to him and hope he wouldn’t be pissed with slightly sugary coffee.

“Peter Parker?” she called, despite him being the only one besides Ned in the shop. She put the coffee on the counter and pressed a lid on before sliding it over to him. “Your coffee.”

“Right, thank you.” he said awkwardly, reaching for the cup before pausing. “Are you excited for MIT?”

MJ paused in surprise, fingers halting over the cashier buttons where she had been ringing him up. She didn’t think she had been talking that loud with Ned, but sounds carried in a silent coffee shop, she supposed. She could have told him it was none of his business, but he already looked pathetic enough, she didn’t feel like kicking him in the heart with her words. “Right. Yeah.” she said awkwardly. She wasn’t good with discussing feelings with people she cared about, much less a complete stranger. But something about Peter just felt… right. Maybe this weird feeling that she’d had for the last few days could have just been resolved by being more social. Talking to Peter was nice… it felt like he could be her friend, if she so wished. She took a stab at being open.

“Yeah, actually. I am… excited, which is weird because I don’t really get… excited about things.” she waited with bated breath for Peter to say something. Normally people just called her weird and paranoid for saying things like that, or they gave her pity (which she hated). “I kind of… expect disappointment.” Something flickered across Peter’s face and she opened her mouth to backtrack, or to try and explain herself. That sentence in and of itself is kind of pathetic to be admitting to a stranger.

But Peter beat her to it. “Right, because then you’ll never be disappointed,” he said. There was a weight to those words, with the way he said them. They meant something to him, but MJ couldn’t figure out what. She just blinked at him for a few seconds, surprised that he actually… understood. Nobody understood it, normally.

“Right. Yeah I just…. I don’t know, it feels different this time for some reason.” she admitted. Different for what reason, she couldn’t tell. Things have felt off lately, but she can’t tell why. She’s chalked it up to uncertainty about college life and leaving her home for the first time, but it doesn’t feel like that. Not that she’d know, though, given that this was a new situation. Something felt missing, but she just couldn’t figure out what. Her best guess was that she was already internalizing what graduation would feel like, and the feeling of missing the familiarity of seeing everyone’s faces in the hallways (even if some of them were really fucking annoying). She’d felt something similar when they returned from the Blip. Like the rug had been pulled out underneath her, and she was missing something but nothing was adding up. It was disturbing and had put her on edge, though she tried not to think about it. It was only winter break- the only reason she even knew about MIT was because she applied Early Action and found out in December. Most people still wouldn’t know their schools all the way until April, and she wouldn’t have to decide until May. She had plenty of time.

Somehow, even that couldn’t assuage the feeling deep in her gut. She shook her head, dispelling her thoughts. She’d already gone too far into this conversation. She continued to ring him up, feeling his gaze on her. She self-consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear that had escaped her low ponytail. When she glanced up again, she realized Peter was looking at her forehead, concern flickering in his brown eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and she brought up her fingers to her forehead, where his gaze was focused. Her fingers brushed against the bandage there, and she pulled her hand away in surprise. She’d forgotten she had a cut there, but it must have been revealed when she swiped her hair out of the way.

She nodded. “Yeah, it doesn’t really hurt anymore.” she said offhandedly, not sure what else to say. Truthfully, she had no fucking clue how she’d gotten it. She had just come to awareness in her room one day and realized she had a cut on her face and dirt on her clothes (how the hell there was sand in her pockets, she had no idea). She dismissed it, but as the days passed and she still couldn’t remember what she was doing beforehand or how she ended up in her state, she got more and more freaked out. Had someone drugged her? Did she have short-term amnesia? She’d looked it up and the closest she’d come up with was transient global amnesia (a sudden, temporary episode of memory loss that can't be attributed to a more common neurological condition, such as epilepsy or stroke. During an episode of transient global amnesia, your recall of recent events simply vanishes, so you can't remember where you are or how you got there. Her brain supplied the info helpfully). Maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe she just fell and hit her head (hard enough to forget it? She’s no doctor, but that feels bad even to her).

It was just one occasion, so she tried to brush it off, but she kept having weird nightmares too. She kept falling, over and over and over. Sometimes someone was reaching for her, sometimes they caught her, and sometimes she hit the ground and woke up, breathless. But she could never remember who it was that was screaming for her. She saw flashes of red and blue, and thought maybe Spider-Man, but the design was unlike any she’d seen from the masked vigilante beforehand, so she just figured it was her brain playing tricks by giving her a superhero to try and save her.

The brain works in mysterious ways, but she particularly dislikes it when her own brain does it. She knows her symptoms fit with a traumatic event, that maybe her brain is trying to compartmentalize it to protect her. That maybe, she truly doesn’t want to know. But that just disturbs her even more. What could possibly have been so bad that she can’t remember anything from it?

Shit, she was getting distracted again. She looked up at Peter, but he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts too. “Is there anything else?” she asked, and he snapped back to attention.

“Oh, uh. No.” he said, reaching into his pocket and fumbling with his wallet. She noticed him cram the paper he had been holding into his back pocket- she’d seen lots of words on there, and lots of scribbles and sentences crossed out. She was somewhat intrigued but decided not to ask. He handed her the cash- $3.50, which she took, realizing that she’d never actually told him the price. He just knew it. How did he know it?

“Thank you.” he said with a warm, genuine smile, and she shot a confused smile back.

“No problem.” she said, and he turned on his heel.

“See you around.” he said quickly, and with a ding of the doorbell, he was gone as fast as he’d appeared.

MJ just stared at the door that he’d just left, unable to stop thinking about the interaction she’d just had. What the hell was that? That had to have been the weirdest, longest interaction with someone she’d ever had here. Yet she wasn’t annoyed. That was surprising. She took a deep breath in and blew it out quickly, putting the cash in the register before closing the drawer and standing with her hand on it for a few seconds.

She turned around to face Ned- who had apparently been watching this whole exchange. He waggled his eyebrows. “So. Peter Parker, huh?” he asked with a suggestive grin, knowing full well that the way she had acted meant that she thought Peter was cute. And hey, he was, no shame in admitting that. But it was one interaction. She threw her dish towel at him.

“Shut the hell up, Leeds.”

~ ~ ~

Peter pushed his way out of the coffee shop, hot coffee cup in hand and the paper in the back pocket of his jeans feeling like it weighed a ton. He heard MJ and Ned laughing in there as he hurried away, but he didn’t bother to listen to what it was about.

What the fuck had he just done.

Whatever chance he may have had to tell MJ the truth was gone, now that he’d ruined his “first” impression by being a word-fumbling idiot. She probably thought he was some creepy weirdo from the way he’d been staring at her. He’d wanted nothing more than to run into her arms and kiss her like he did for the final time at the Statue of Liberty, but the blank, unrecognizing look she gave him ripped his heart to shreds before he could even fathom speaking his first sentence.

Not that it would have made sense, anyways. She definitely would have classed him as a NYC crackhead then. He had no proof. Nobody knew who he was. She probably would have listened politely and then flashed him her customer service smile (and oh god, how it hurt to be on the end of that smile- the one she presented to the public. He wanted nothing more than to be on the receiving end of one of her genuine smiles once again). Really, there was no good way this interaction could have ended.

Who the hell would believe some random guy who said he was your boyfriend?

When Ned had walked in and MJ’s face had flashed in recognition, he had a brief, soaring moment of hope- did she remember? She said she would just figure it out again. She swore she would. And then the hope had come crashing down again, reality hitting him like a ton of concrete when Ned had walked past him without so much as an acknowledging nod.

It felt like he was on the receiving end of a particularly cruel joke, one where people ignored him in plain sight. Peter used to have nightmares that the people he loved would die and he wouldn’t be able to save them- he had fully believed that those were the worst-case scenarios. But no. This. Having everyone who’s ever loved you simply… forget. And you’re left loving them, like a ghost, grieving for the living.

This was the true nightmare.

His pace sped up as he weaved through clumps of people on the sidewalk. None of them spared him so much as a glance, not an ounce of recognition behind their eyes. A week ago, this would have been his dream. To be able to walk the streets without having people stare at him or spit at him or come try and get his autograph. But now, it only served to remind them that nobody knew him.

Not a single person.

He was completely and utterly alone in the world.

His pace picked up further, unbidding, until he was almost sprinting down the sidewalk. It was a good thing MJ put a lid on his coffee, or it would have all spilled out by now. He didn’t know where he was going but he needed to go somewhere, away from all the people. All the blank, unrecognizing stares blurred together in his mind- the image of his friends’ unrecognizing stares phased together, a sickening parallel to May’s lifeless and unrecognizing gaze.

A sob tore out of his chest at the thought, and he slowed down, tripping over his feet and stumbling before regaining his balance. He slipped into an alley and pressed his head against the wall, hot tears beginning to stream down his face as the events of the past few days truly began to catch up to him. Somewhere in his frantic dash, coffee had spilled out of the opening in the lid and had drenched his arm, but he couldn’t care less in the moment. It was only hitting now- the fact that this was his life. It was real. It wasn’t some twisted nightmare his mind came up with. There was no mistake in the spell. It had worked exactly as it should have. He’d thought, long ago, that Peter Parker was a nobody. Oh, how wrong he was then. He’d still had May, and Ned, and MJ, and Happy and Tony, however irritated the latter two were with him at times. He would give anything to be back in that time.

One last hug from May. One last handshake with Ned. One last decathlon practice with MJ. One last anything. He would even take being bullied by Flash again. If only someone were to recognize him.

He leaned against the alley wall and slid down it, legs no longer able to hold him up. He’d been running on adrenaline the past few days, on the stupid childish hope that maybe he’d get his happy ending. Maybe the spell would have mercy on him and let his friends remember him, if he only showed up. That their memories would be restored and he could just go back to the life he had before, even if May was gone.

Now the gravity of the situation was sinking in. Of course the spell wouldn’t have mercy on him- the real world is cruel and harsh and spells do exactly what they are written to do. The same way a computer carries out its algorithm. He was a fool to believe he’d be the exception- that’s what got him in this trouble in the first place. If he hadn’t been such a coward, if he hadn’t fucked up Dr. Strange’s spell six times. If he’d just stopped and accepted the fact that they’d forget he was Spider-Man, he would still at least have them.

Everything. Everything that had happened since had been the result of his own actions. And now he had to live with that. For the rest of his life.

Another choked sob came out, and he reached into his back pocket for the crumpled piece of paper- the note he had planned to read to MJ. Or give to her. He read it over again and crumpled it in his fist. Why was he being so selfish? Sure, he’d promised to come look for them. But they didn’t remember him. They didn’t need him the same way he needed them.

They didn’t need him at all anymore.

They’d gotten into MIT, were planning new lives. They were out of danger now, no longer associated with Spider-Man and the risks that came with it. The risks that came with him. (MJ falling, falling, falling. May collapsing. Ned screaming.) They were happy. And they were together. They had each other.

They didn’t need him. None of them did.

Peter’s head fell back and hit the alley wall, note crumpled in his fist and pressed to his chest. That’s why he’d stopped, really. When he saw Ned come in and the two started laughing together, without him, about their future at MIT.

When he saw the bandage on MJ’s head and remembered that being associated with him led to her being injured.

It was for the better that they didn’t know him, really. So he tucked the note back into his pants pocket and left with his coffee.

It felt like he’d ripped his heart out and left it behind, too.

~ ~ ~

He paced the streets for a long time, until the snow on the ground leached through his shoes and his coffee cooled down and his tears froze on his face. He considered laying down somewhere, in an alleyway, and just… falling asleep. It’s not like anyone would miss him if he never came home.

He shook the thought off as soon as he’d had it. The neighborhood still needed Spider-Man, and if all of this trouble was for him to be Spider-Man then he may as well take advantage of the opportunity.

No school to attend- not anymore at least. He still wasn’t sure whether computers were capable of forgetting him- the spell was to make sure nobody remembered Peter Parker, but surely that couldn’t erase data, right? He could very simply check- all it would take is trying to log into his school account as Peter Parker, or hacking the system to see if he’d ever existed in it.

The only issue is, if he didn’t exist in the system and never did, he was terrified of the implications of that. What about his birth certificate? Bank account? Passport? Social Security? Surely that all couldn’t be wiped out by a spell- a passport can’t “forget” who he is. It’s a piece of paper. But then what about sentient computers? Would Karen and FRIDAY recognize him? Do AIs count when “forgetting Peter Parker”? He had no idea, but he was already clinging onto a thin line of sanity and if computer systems forgot him too he would enter a full-on breakdown. So that was a future Peter problem (he would probably regret that decision).

Either way, he was curious as to whether CPS would try and track him down or not. Maybe the school system did have him registered at some point, but it marked him as a transfer. If not, are they flagging his absences? Do they even have a guardian on file anymore, and if they tried to call May’s old number and couldn’t reach it what would happen then? He had no idea. It’s not like he has any ties for CPS to even try to track him down with, now that everyone’s forgotten who he is. (The thought of them showing up at Ned or MJ’s apartment and asking about him made his heart twist in his chest.) By the time they managed to track him down (if they managed) he’d be 18 anyways and out of the system.

So, yeah. No school for him.

Would he have to reapply to colleges? Would MIT’s system remember him? Once again, that would be a computer. The admissions officers certainly wouldn’t remember him, but they wouldn’t have remembered, spell or no spell- they have thousands of people to process every day. Not that he even had the funds for college- he didn’t know the implications of being able to access May’s college fund for Peter anyways. He’d have to prove he was her nephew... but that would require legal documents, of which he did not have the energy to go look through.

Right after the spell had been cast, he snuck into Happy’s apartment (still mostly blown apart and in construction phases) to fetch what few belongings he still had left. May and him had brought very few things to Happy’s apartment in the first place- just whatever they could pick up and put into boxes. They left all their furniture- they had to get out in a hurry and besides, Happy had plenty of furnishings. Peter didn’t even know if he could get into his old apartment anymore, or if it was being sold, or by who, but it didn’t matter anyways, there would be nothing he’d want to get. Of the things he’d brought to Happy’s place, only some of it survived (just a mere three boxes holding his entire life), and he was lucky that one of them had been May’s paperwork for legal proceedings.

Other than that, there was one box of May’s, one box of Peter’s, and nothing else. He didn’t have the mental capacity to open the paperwork or May’s boxes; he’d barely even touched his own box. He’d spent most of his days Spider-Manning and job searching (which had been mostly inconclusive; any real jobs require legal paperwork and he’d been trying to avoid that as much as possible). So far he’d been able to make a couple of bucks off of selling Spider-Man pictures to the Daily Bugle as a freelancer- not his first choice, but he had rent to pay, and they paid him in cash per picture. He had no idea what amount of money he would be able to access from his bank account if the system didn’t remember him as Peter Parker, and he wasn’t about to risk it. So cash it was.

Ugh. So many things depended on the legalities of him existing as an actual person. All of his friends forgetting him sucked- more than sucked, in fact- but that would be nothing in comparison to having to deal with legal retributions of not existing on paper. He didn’t even think there was a procedure for that. What would he even say? “Oh yeah a spell made everyone forget who I was, so now I don’t exist and can’t be hired or have a bank account or insurance or anything.” Not like he could pay a lawyer, anyways. Or be allowed to, as a minor. Maybe he could go beg Matt Murdock, but he wouldn’t remember him so it would be pointless.

Maybe he really should have asked Strange about the details of the spell before it was cast. Stupid Parker. Always rash and in the moment. Guess he would just have to hope really hard that he still existed as a legal person.

Hoping was all he had, now.

The one thing that was still keeping him hopeful, though, was that it seemed to be a one-time forgetting spell. He’d worried, directly after the fact, that maybe he would introduce himself as Peter Parker to someone, and the next day, they wouldn’t be able to remember him. But luckily, when setting up to rent his own apartment, the landlord remembered him, even across multiple days. When he recognized Peter for the first time, Peter had almost broken down crying, because at least this meant that not all hope was lost. He was alone now, but he could rebuild memories with people and make friends. He wouldn’t be alone forever.

Thank fucking god.

~ ~ ~

After getting up and trudging through the snow back to his apartment, Peter changed and sat on his bed, staring at the wall. He’d unpacked one photo- May and Peter and Ben, smiling together. It had been at the top of the box, and Peter had been afraid to rummage further, out of the fear that he was somehow erased from the pictures that had Ned and MJ in them. He was almost certain, now, that that wouldn’t be the case- it appeared the spell only affected human memories of him, in a one-time-only kinda thing. So he would still have all his records, and pictures, and computers. Which was good. He still missed his friends, though.

He continued to stare blankly at the wall with the picture on it, eyes tracing the lines of May’s face. He hadn’t gone to her funeral. He’d watched from afar, but hadn’t received an invitation. It was small- Happy, Ned, MJ, some work colleagues. He was surprised to see his friends there- that meant that they’d just forgotten him, but not anyone associated through him. He’d fought back the pang of hope that stabbed him through the chest at the thought that maybe he could make them remember through memories of May. The hope left as quickly as it came- he had no idea how the spell worked, and it may have rewired their memories completely so that they think they met May through a charity fundraiser or something, rather than through Peter. Seemed kind of complicated to rewire such a drastic number of memories, and didn’t seem like it should have been part of a “forgetting” spell, but Peter was not about to feel hope at the prospect.

He was so out of his depth when it came to this whole forgetting spell thing.

It’s not like he could really ask Strange either- he had no doubt the man would not give such detailed information to a complete stranger (which Peter was to him, now).

He sighed, collapsing backwards on his bed to stare at the ceiling. He turned his head sideways, and saw the coffee cup from this morning sitting innocuously on his desk. A pang shot through him at the memory of MJ giving it to him, the soft curves of her face illuminated in the glow from the coffee shop lights.

He was about to make a terrible decision.

He should just leave her alone. Should just let her and Ned live their lives, free of the burden and worries of one Peter Parker.

Thing is, he’d never been particularly good at self-restraint.

He tried to convince himself that he would get coffee from the shop the next morning because it was close. Convenient. He could use a little pick-me-up anyways, and some time to stretch his legs. (Yeah, no. He knew damn well what a lame-ass excuse that was).

Something calmed in his chest then. He would see her again. He’d see her again tomorrow. Maybe it was a terrible idea, maybe it would rip him apart seeing her again, but he’d at least be able to look at her. See her alive, breathing, laughing, smiling. Hopefully in a less creepy stalkerish way.

A small smile flitted across his face at the thought, and he turned over and grabbed his suit, invigorated with new energy from having something to look forward to.

Maybe he could get out some nervous energy as Spider-Man.

~ ~ ~

Ding!

MJ was hardly surprised when she looked up and saw Peter Parker walking through the doorway. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, though if anyone saw it she’d deny it. She spun to face him, leaning an elbow against the counter. He’d once again come in when there was nobody there- either he’d gotten statistically lucky, or he knew the times and he knew her shift.

Generally speaking, the second one would be creepy as hell. MJ had seen enough murder documentaries and read enough about case studies to realize the signs of a stalker. And it’s not as if Peter had made a particularly… thrilling first impression with his long pauses and staring at her.

In any other case, she’d be weirded out. And maybe he was a creepy serial killer who was just really good at acting and pretending to be innocent. But MJ was nothing if not observant, and given the way Peter shifted from foot to foot and twisted his hands and had a general nervous aura about him, she was gonna take a shot in the dark and assume he was not a creepy stalker murderer. He was just a nice teenage boy. A little weird, sure, but hey, she wasn’t one to speak on the matter.

“Peter Parker.” she said with the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Coffee boy. Fancy seeing you here again.”

The same flash of hope came across his expression for a split second- the same emotion as when she’d raised her arm to wave at Ned yesterday. Hm. Strange.

Her mind fluttered a bit at the word ‘strange’, and she blinked in surprise. Hm… that was weird. There was a memory associated with that word, but she couldn’t remember it. It was like when a word is at the tip of your tongue, you know it’s there, you just can’t remember it. She shook her head. She’d deal with that later. She turned her attention back to Peter as he began to speak.

“Um, yeah.” he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “The coffee was good…?”

She snorted out a laugh. “Same thing as yesterday, then?” He smiled and nodded as she started brewing the pot. It was fairly early in the morning and not many people had come in for the weekend brunch rush yet, so she didn’t start brewing coffee until someone came in, to minimize waste. That left them with a few minutes to talk- and surprisingly, Peter beat her to it.

“So… I never caught your name yesterday.” he said, leaning against the counter. MJ quirked her brow.

“Michelle Jones.” she said, and then, before she could stop herself- “My friends call me MJ.”

She’s not sure what possessed her to say that- she’d only known Peter Parker for one day. But it just felt… right.

Something sparked in his eyes. “Was that an invitation?” he asked, carefully. She shrugged.

“Depends if you want it to be.”

Most people got annoyed at her cryptic answers in situations like these. Peter seemed to be the opposite, a wide grin overtaking his face. MJ couldn’t help but smile too.

“I’ll take it.” he said. “Nice to meet you, MJ.”

There it was again, that sense of… familiarity? It was really bugging her. His voice saying her name triggered something, deep within her brain, so far back that her consciousness had no chance at even grasping the tiniest glimpse of it. But where her brain forgot, apparently her heart remembered. She felt herself drawn towards him- perhaps because he was a mystery. She was a girl who loved a good mystery, and at the moment, Peter Parker certainly was one.

“You too, coffee boy.” she shot back. He opened his mouth, looking like he was contemplating saying something, before the coffee machine beeped, signaling the end of the brew. Goddamnit. She wanted to see what he was going to say. She hurried back to the machine, grabbing a to-go cup and pouring the freshly brewed coffee into it. She paused at the sugar, hesitating, before quickly throwing in the same amount as yesterday. He hadn’t complained, and he said it tasted good, so she might as well do it again. (She could have asked, of course, but MJ was nothing if not stubborn and insistent on getting things right the first time).

By the time she made her way over to the cash register, coffee cup in hand, Peter still hadn’t said anything, a contemplative look flashing across his face. She opened her mouth to say something (though what, she still hadn’t figured out), but Peter beat her to it again.

“I like your necklace. Where’d you get it?” The words had a weight to them. How MJ answered this was important to him. She blinked in surprise and her hand automatically went up to her neck. Her necklace. Right. Wait. Where did she get it again?

“I- uh.” MJ said, thrown off guard for the first time, brow furrowing. “It’s a Black Dahlia necklace, or, well, it was supposed to be, before it broke.” she said. “I like it better broken, though.” Yeah. Symbolism and all that shit.

“Black Dahlia? Like the murder?” Peter asked. She nodded, mildly surprised he knew of it, but also not surprised at all. This kid was nothing if not unexpected.

“Yeah. I don’t… remember how it broke. Or who gave it to me.” she admitted. Something lit up further in Peter’s expression. “I remember someone gave it to me as a gift.” she said, rubbing her neck awkwardly, head spinning. Where had she gotten the necklace? It hadn’t occurred to her before now- she just wore it every day, all day, and never even considered taking it off.

If she closed her eyes, she could feel the phantom weight of someone’s hands ghosting over the back of her neck, clipping the necklace shut softly. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember who. And that… disturbed her. She felt a deep connection to the necklace, and anyone who was allowed to get that close or touch her neck softly like that must have been important to her. Important as in a significant other. Not even her family got that close to her. But she’d never dated anyone.

What the fuck?

Peter’s voice broke through her spiral, and she opened her eyes again, unaware that she had been squeezing them shut. He was looking at her with worry, but also hope, and a little bit of excitement? She shook her head.

“I’m sorry, are you okay?” Peter asked, peering at her. She blinked and nodded, unable to form words at the second. It felt like she’d just hit something. Something really big. Something really wrong. And she had no idea what to do with it. Peter continued talking. “I’m sorry if I brought up memories or flashbacks or something.” he apologized. MJ shook her head.

“No, no, you’re fine.” she murmured distractedly, flashing him a small smile. Maybe she’d hit her head harder than she thought, if she couldn’t remember her own honest-to-god boyfriend. Girlfriend? Crush? Was she hallucinating?

No. She had to think logically about this. If she really just forgot about her partner, surely they would have come looking for her. Or texted her. Or someone would have asked about them. There’s no way she could have completely forgotten something like that. If her partner cared enough, if she actually had a partner (her, the loser nerd), surely they’d be here. And the only person she’d ‘met’ since she hit her head was-

Her head snapped up. Peter.

He was staring at her, still with the same concerned look. No. That was impossible. She knew nothing about him, just his name. She dismissed the thought almost immediately and started ringing him up. She was just projecting now- just because Peter was cute didn’t mean she could project this whole scenario onto him. It was completely ludicrous. Besides, he would have said something. Or Ned would have recognized him, if she’d forgotten from the hit on her head. And Ned was just here yesterday. She sighed. It was probably just some dream that her brain had conjured up to make her feel less lonely. How pathetic. She didn’t have a boyfriend and never did.

Peter handed his cash to her, and she took it with a small smile, handing him back his change. His hand brushed hers for a brief second and she short-circuited.

Man, she was either down really bad, or she’d hit her head much harder than she thought. She’s not sure which of those options she’d prefer, to be honest.

She vaguely remembered Peter saying bye, with a last glance at her, and her own half-hearted wave before he left the coffee shop with the same ding! as before. MJ sat down at a barstool and put her head in her hands.

What the fuck was that.

~ ~ ~

Peter left the coffee shop, cursing himself again. It had been going so well this time, and then he’d gone and fucked it up. Well. Had he fucked it up? He didn’t dare hope that she could actually remember him, but this was big. This was important.

That one interaction just showed to him that he’d been way overthinking the spell’s capabilities. He should have realized as much. It was a forgetting spell. Forgetting is just failing to remember. Of course, how could he be so stupid? The spell was too simple to rewire everyone’s memories involving him. That wasn’t what it was intended for. So the reason his friends were at May’s funeral wasn’t because they thought they met her somewhere else- he bet now, that if he asked them, he’d receive an answer similar to what MJ had just said about the necklace. They remembered her, but they didn’t remember how they met her, because they didn’t remember him.

But they still had the memories associated with other people when he was there. MJ had remembered it was a gift, had remembered him giving it to her except she’d forgotten him. Meaning, that the spell was never set to erase memories. It was simply made to stop the retrieval process. Peter thought back to everything he knew about memory (hey, he had to know a pretty wide knowledge of STEM facts for decathlon, and the brain is interesting). Memory works by you noticing something, storing it in your short-term memory, and then encoding it into your long-term memory. And then the way people remember things is through the retrieval mechanism, where the brain takes things out of your long-term memory back into your short-term memory while you’re paying attention to it.

The spell didn’t fuck with long-term memory- that was far too complicated, and Peter wanted to slap himself for not realizing it before. The simplest way to do a forgetting spell was to create a ‘filter’ of sorts in the brain- the spell would block you from retrieving any “unwanted” information stored in your long-term memory, thus making you ‘forget.’ But it didn’t erase it. His friends still had all their memories. He just had to find a way to access them.

Of course. The pieces started coming together in his mind. It would be too suspicious to erase everything connected to Peter Parker—especially since the spell was only designed to forget him, not everything around him. So, if other people were involved, it makes sense that the spell buries memories of Peter with other people deep in their memory to make it less suspicious. It can't make memories vanish unless it's a one-on-one memory with him, because other people were involved and it wasn't a spell to erase memories of them. The spell could simply bury those memories so deep that the person would require very specific prompting- something that presumably wouldn’t happen with a small-scale forgetting spell.

Peter recalled something Strange said offhandedly when he first brought up using the spell. He mentioned he used it to erase memories of… a party at Kamar-Taj. Presumably, most people cast forgetting spells because they want to forget. As such, there wouldn’t be much of an active effort on their part to try and remember, especially if it was a small, insignificant event. But something as big as erasing a whole person from peoples’ memories… Peter didn’t know much about magic, but he did know Strange and Wong constantly griped about minimizing the changes and damages they did to a universe (something about preserving the timeline, etc, etc). Erasing an entire person is already a big enough change, but to completely wipe all associations among people connected to him, too, would be too dangerous and unreliable, with too many variables.

He felt the excitement building up, a flutter in his chest at the thought that he could somehow bring back at least some memories of him, enough to make them remember they at least knew and loved him at some point. And then… it all came crashing down. Reality hit him like a ton of bricks as to why he even did this in the first place. Why he had to protect them.

What happened to May.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled roughly through his nose. Pain clamped around his lungs and squeezed at the thought that he was so close, so close to being reunited with them… yet he couldn’t. Couldn’t put them through that again. Not when they were safe. Safe from him and all the dangers he brought along, the ever-growing line of ghosts in his wake. His parents. Ben. Tony. May. He couldn’t add his friends to that list.

It was for the better if he stayed away.

Chapter Text

MJ tapped her pencil against her desk idly as she listened to Ms. Warren drone on. She was paying attention (sort of), but mostly had her attention elsewhere. Being accepted into MIT early really did terrible things for her senioritis. (She wasn’t stupid, of course, she knew she had to maintain her grades and she did, she just didn’t have to be as concerned now).

Next to her, Ned seemed to be having the same thoughts, hand pressed against his chin and brows furrowed as he tried to read the board and Ms. Warren’s messy handwriting. At some point, he gave up on trying to decipher it, but not before MJ had captured a rough sketch of his crisis face in the margins of her notebook.

She poked Ned with her pencil to get his attention, keeping her eyes trained on the board and expression set in a poker face. He glanced over at her and she tapped her notebook, sliding her notes over to him wordlessly. He took them gratefully and rapidly copied down what he’d missed; Ms. Warren had finished talking about material and was instead discussing their next test.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ned scribbling something in her notebook next to her crisis drawing of him; he slid it back over to her and she took it, glancing down at his new addition. ‘That guy is super good-looking, who’s he?’ he’d written, with a poor rendition of the heart-eyes emoji next to the note. She snorted softly and resisted the urge to poke him again. She’d gotten less aloof and more expressive since sophomore year, but she still had a reputation to uphold.

Well, within the school at least, out of the school was free reign.

She checked the wall where the clock stood. They had three more minutes till class ended, and then Ned and her had a free together for an hour. Normally they got most of their homework out of the way (like the nerds they were) so they had more time to hang out after school. But today, MJ had a question on her mind, and she figured not much homework would be done as a result.

Brrrrringggg!

The bell rang and most students leapt out of their seats, conglomerating around the doorway. MJ took her time, sliding her books into her bag and contemplating (as per usual). The bell always made her feel more alert, as it sounded like the bell to the coffee shop doorway, signaling a new customer. She looked up, half expecting to see the face of Peter Parker looking back at her.

What the hell. She shook her head, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She didn’t know why she kept expecting to see Peter Parker in her school hallways, or why she thought of him at the most random of times. For only seeing him twice, he seemed to be rather persistent in her everyday thoughts. It was really quite annoying.

Then again, it wasn’t really him that kept triggering thoughts of him- it was the confusing slew of emotions that came along with it. His voice, his face, hell, even the scent of his cologne when she stood too close to him triggered some deep emotional response in her. It wasn’t a crush. She knew that much. How she knew that, she had no idea. But something about him made her feel… happy. Happier than she remembered feeling in a long time. The happiness pervaded the gaps in her memories, filled them up until a soft warm glow was all she could feel. And she had no idea what to do with that fact. Emotions weren’t her strong suit, and she didn’t like that her memories were failing her. Emotions were too… unreliable. Not factual enough.

She felt Ned come up next to her, and she shook off her thoughts to turn her attention to him. “Library?” he asked, and she nodded in agreement. She got lost in her thoughts on the way there, unsure of the best way to bring this conversation up. How do you just ask someone whether they have partial amnesia or not? She’d sound like a psychopath.

She thought back to yesterday, how her mind had leaped at the word “strange.” She had no basis, really, but she could feel in her gut that it was connected to someone- like someone’s name. No factual basis, really, but none of the stuff she was about to spew at Ned had any real basis, so she might as well start with that. It was a slightly less crazy conversation opener, at least. If he didn’t recognize it, then, well… she wasn’t sure how she’d carry on the conversation. But whatever.

They settled down at the library tables and started working on their homework quietly, their usual chatter ceased. Ned seemed to realize that something was on her mind today, and knew to leave her alone until she said something. She felt a pang of gratefulness, glad that he understood.

They worked quietly, exchanging a few sentences here or there about their work, until MJ spoke up in the relative silence.

“Hey, Ned? Does the name Strange mean anything to you?”

~ ~ ~

Stephen sighed irritably as he slipped on the ice in the Sanctum Sanctorium again. They’d cleared out most of the piles of snow, but there were still patches of ice that had melted and refrozen with the temperature dips. He was getting really fucking tired of slipping around in three jackets like an oversized penguin. (Wong had called him as such, stating that the colors of his beard and hair matched the black-and-white penguin scheme, too, and as much as Stephen hated it he kind of had to admit that Wong had a point.)

He’d been irritable all week, really, after coming back to the Sanctum and finding his spell room downstairs an absolute wreck with zero recollection of how it got that way. Seriously, why was there an entire fucking tree in one of his prison cells? It was fairly easy to remove with a well placed portal, but still annoying regardless.

One of the things Stephen had most prided himself on throughout his life (whether in school or as a surgeon) was his impeccable memory. He’d done so well in school mostly because of his ability to remember almost every medical fact spouted at him with ease. Now, in the past week, his memory seemed to be failing him as he thought more and more about it, and each time he couldn’t remember something it put him in a worse mood. Whether it was the tree in the dungeon, or his spell room being messed up, or the tables being knocked over like there was a fight. All signs pointed to someone who shouldn’t have been there infiltrating the sanctum, and even if he was no longer the official Sorcerer Supreme, he still felt as if he had a personal duty to figure out what the hell happened. Because if someone came in (and it looked like they came in fighting), and he couldn’t remember, that means they had to have messed with something and taken something potentially important.

Wong didn’t seem to share the same misgivings.

“Maybe you’re just getting old.” Wong said drily when he brought up the concerns.

“Wong, I’m 40.”

“Early onset Alzheimer’s can start between your 30s and mid-60s.” Wong said, barely sparing Stephen a glance.

“I don’t have Alzheimer’s.” he protested, only to be met with a shrug from his fellow sorcerer. Could he? No, that was ridiculous, Alzheimer’s didn’t start overnight. He’d spent enough time studying the brain to know there were many more factors that showed before you forgot that much. “No, Wong, I know it’s not Alzheimer’s, it was almost overnight and it was some pretty big events that feel distorted, and that’s never happened before.” Wong stopped and turned to face Stephen.

“You’re the brain person.” he said gruffly. “See a doctor or something. I have important business.”

“Yeah, like what?” Stephen scoffed.

Wong rapidly opened a portal. “Sorcerer Supreme business.” he said, stepping through as Stephen called his last words through the closing portal.

“Oh come on, Wong, you keep saying that just to fuck with me.” The portal closed without a response (though he was sure he caught a glimpse of a smirk on Wong’s face) and he threw his arms up in exasperation. “Fine, I guess I’ll do it myself then.” he muttered, heading towards the library that Wong had spent most of his time in prior to taking up the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme.

Stephen thought back to his first weeks at Kamar-Taj, how he spent his days and nights reading book after book of spells that he borrowed (“thieved,” if you asked Wong- but he’d returned them eventually, so…) to capture as much knowledge as possible.

It was strange (hah)- memories of that, and of his years in medical school and as a surgeon, were all crystal clear as he remembered them being. Even memories up until a few years ago were untouched, lacking in the fog that pervaded more recent memories. It really all started with Thanos.

He remembered that he used to have those memories. He remembers fighting with Tony Stark, remembers the alien knocking him out and sending him up into the spaceship. He remembers Spider-Man helping him, and he remembers that he ended up on the ship with Stark and Spider-Man. And then… they blasted the alien out of the ship, and he and Tony had an argument… and Spider-Man unmasked himself but…

He couldn’t remember his name.

A face hovered hazily in the corners of his mind, but every time he tried to reach for it he couldn’t quite grasp it. He caught glimpses of brown hair, brown eyes, a youthful, trusting face. A high pitched voice, a nervous expression. But there were no defining features on this face, and no name to associate it with. Everything else, every other action was crystal clear. But where Spider-Man was present, a fog of forgetting followed.

But.

The fog of forgetting only happened when Spider-Man was unmasked. In all the parts of the battle, in the heat of the moment, his memories were crystal clear. Trying to get the glove off, almost, almost succeeding before Starlord started smacking the shit out of Thanos. But then they lost, and Thanos left, and the young hero unmasked, and the fog was back again.

A rapid look at the rest of the gaps in his memories told him that they were all centered around Spider-Man- but most notably, only when he was unmasked. So, it had to do with the man under the mask. The kid? The teen? He had no idea, but he definitely couldn’t be above 20, given the high pitch of his voice. Strange knew of only one thing that could erase memories so specific- of only one person- and, quite frankly, it was kind of disturbing. Because only a sorcerer could cast the Runes of Kauf-Kaul. And this sorcerer would have to have a reason to make him forget the identity of Spider-Man’s alter ego. But who could it be? And why him, specifically? Unless there were other people who were included in the forgetting spell.

He paced at the bottom of the stairs, cursing as he slipped once again, his cloak steadying him. So, to sum up: he had gaps in his memories. It had to have been from a forgetting spell, cast by a sorcerer, of which the most common was the Runes (though even that was a very complicated spell, especially that of forgetting an entire person, so that cut out most of the sorcerers and left him with very few options). It had to do with Spider-Man’s personal identity, and someone wanted him forgotten for some reason. Had he wanted it? No, that couldn’t be right. He must have people who loved him- there’s no way he’d willingly let them forget. But that’s how forgetting spells work; everyone forgets or nobody forgets. Becoming a stranger to everyone who loves you is not a curse Stephen would willingly implant on anyone, even the worst of his enemies. So either the kid had royally pissed off a very skilled sorcerer (he couldn’t even think of a situation where that would occur, especially not with Spider-Man, who’s generally well-liked). Or there was something much deeper and more complicated to this situation.

Okay, so… he didn’t know what wizard was associated with this, but he does know that Spider-Man is involved. And lucky for him, Spider-Man is a New York based hero. So his best shot would be to find Spider-Man and ask him questions; Stephen was sure that if a wizard had cursed him, there’s no way the young hero would have just stepped aside and let it happen without investigating anything. Spider-Man was many things, but a quitter was not one of them. He may not have much information, but he would certainly have more than Stephen did, and hopefully he would be willing to share. From there… well, he really didn’t know what he was doing from there- he’d just have to see what Spider-Man told him and hope that he could figure out further actions based on that.

Time to go look for a certain red-and-blue webslinger.

~ ~ ~

“Does the name Strange mean anything to you?”

Ned looked up at MJ’s question, pencil pausing mid-scribble. He opened his mouth to instinctively say no, before he paused and actually registered her question. Strange… strange… actually, it did bring up some memories. But those memories were, well, strange- they made absolutely no sense. He was about to say as much, because surely those memories couldn’t mean much, right? Why would she need to know? But the serious expression on his best friend’s (the title made his heart twist and pang, for some reason) face made him stop and consider.

“Yes… actually.” he admitted. “But mostly, uh… snow covered rooms, magic spells, and a, uh… talking lizard. None of which actually make sense, so I’m pretty sure I hallucinated it.” he laughed nervously. There was more there, buried in the recesses of his mind, but he was too scared to try and dig them up. Besides, the sentence that just came out of his mouth just made no sense, and he was pretty sure MJ was just going to laugh it off like he did. But her attention was fully on him, their homework forgotten.

“A talking lizard. Dr. Connors.” she said, eyes boring into his. He stopped, mouth opening. Then closing.

Yes. Yes. Dr. Connors. Wait, who the fuck was that?

“Yes?” he said unsurely, knowing deep in his heart that she was right but not having any true memories to base this fact off of. It was basically just his brain asking “source?” and his gut going “just trust me, bro.” Ah, yes, reverting to memes in serious discussions. Nice one, Ned. “How did you know that?”

MJ shrugged and sniffed, reverting her eyes and rubbing her forehead tiredly. Ned had long since learned that this was her mechanism to avoid saying she didn’t know something. She didn’t like not knowing things. “I don’t know.” she said tiredly, as if she’d spent hours debating this very fact and kept coming up with an answer that she didn’t like. She looked like she was going to say something else, before she stopped herself. Ned didn’t ask, instead going back to his homework. He knew that he was unlikely to get anything more if he pushed, and would instead have more luck letting her ask when she was ready.

He didn’t have to wait too long, as it turned out. Two minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Wow, this must be really bothering her, he’s seen her last hours to days before caving on things. What she asked, though, was completely left-field and hit him like a smack to the face.

“Ned, do you have gaps in your memories?” she asked. He stopped again, concern kicking in at the very thinly-veiled plea for help. It was exactly like-

His train of thought screeched to a halt. For a split second there, he’d felt clarity, a breakthrough. A memory that was just out of his reach- of a person, a close friend, always being injured and asking ‘hypothetical’ questions (oh yeah, like there’s something so hypothetical about treating a gunshot wound). He’d had it, for a brief second. If it had stuck around for even a millisecond longer he’d remember the name, he was sure of it. It was right there, hovering around the edges of his consciousness, an all-pervading sense that something was missing. He realized he’d been ignoring it up until now, but with MJ’s question his subconscious had started screeching, clawing its way up-

But whatever it was stayed firmly locked away, cloaked in the shadows of his mind, buried under layer after layer of consciousness. He tried grasping for it, but it was futile. The darkness kept a firm hold on it; it was as useless as if his mind was equipped with a smart automated lock and he was standing outside the door with a simple metal key. He had no chance of unlocking it, but he knew something was there. He could feel it.

He looked back up at MJ, and it must have shown in his eyes. “You feel it too?” she asked, simply, and he nodded.

“Something important. Someone. But I can’t remember who.” he said, and her eyes lit up slightly and she nodded.

“Thank god.” she muttered. “I was starting to think I was going crazy from the hit to my head or something.”

“The hit to your head?” His eyes flitted up to her brow. He’d seen it, registered that it was there… but he’d never asked about it. He wracked his brain, but he couldn’t remember ever asking if she was okay. He’d just accepted it.

Holy shit, he was a terrible friend.

MJ seemed to notice his inner turmoil and shook her head. “No, I don’t remember how I got it either.” she said, calming some of his worries. “I just remember the Statue of Liberty and… falling. Falling and somebody caught me and I thought maybe it was Spider-Man but the symbol was all wrong and I didn’t- he didn’t have his mask on but it felt different. It wasn’t- he wasn’t our Spider-Man. But I just can’t remember.” That sentence in and of itself should have been ludicrous.

Our Spider-Man.

They’d never even seen Spider-Man, so how would that be a possibility? It shouldn’t have been; it didn’t make sense at all. None of this made sense.

“You remember Peter Parker?” MJ asked, and Ned thought for a second before nodding.

“Yeah, the guy who was acting weirdly when he ordered the coffee and gave you heart eyes the whole time. What does he have to do with anything?” he said, snorting slightly at the memory. MJ sighed.

“Yeah, him.” she paused. “I think he has something to do with this.”

Ned’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why? I’ve never seen him in my life.” MJ shook her head.

“Me neither. But that’s a little suspicious, don’t you think? He was staring at me like he was completely… lovestruck, or whatever. Like he knew me.” she said.

Ned thought about it and shrugged. “I mean sure, but y’know, love at first sight and all that shit. Could’ve been that. You know how teenage boys’ hormones work.”

MJ’s nose wrinkled. “Actually, I don’t, and I don’t want to know. But regardless, it wasn’t just that- him staring at me like he knew me. I started feeling things when I saw him.” Ned’s eyebrows waggled at the last sentence and she shoved him off his seat. He fell to the floor, yelping. “Not like that, Ned.” she said as he clambered back onto his seat. “More like… I had absolutely zero recollection of his face, no matter how hard I tried to remember. But he started talking, and things he said brought up emotions attached to memories that I can’t place. I think it has to do with the gaps in my memories- the emotions are all there, but I can’t place a face and a location to any of them. They’re just all… fuzzy.”

Ned quieted, realizing this was a serious conversation. He thought back to his own lack of memories- did he have the same experience?

Shit. He did.

They sat quietly for a moment before Ned spoke. “I thought… I thought my only friend throughout high school was you, y’know?” he waited for MJ to nod her confirmation before he continued. “But… I didn’t meet you till the end of sophomore year, much less get close with you until after that. And before that, I should have had no friends… but I remember laughs, and feeling happy, and loving someone like I love you, but… there’s nobody there. No face. No memory. Just the emotions. And I can’t have been that happy all alone, right? Friendless and bullied for half of my whole high school career? That doesn’t seem like the recipe for happiness.”

MJ said nothing. How could she, really? Ned had no idea what he’d say if their positions were reversed anyways; there wasn’t much to say. They sat in silence for a bit, wondering what the hell they were gonna do, until MJ spoke up again, shifting to pull at something around her neck.

“Do you remember this?” she asked, and he looked to where she had pulled at a chain resting around her neck, dangling the pendant where he could see it. It looked… like a broken glass flower? Black Dahlia, his mind supplied.

No, he didn’t remember it. Didn’t remember where she’d gotten it, or why it was broken, or why she was still wearing it. He knew she found the Black Dahlia murders fascinating, but he was the only one who should have known that. And MJ wasn’t ever the type of person to spend money on herself, much less on jewelry. Someone had to have gotten it for her, and it wasn’t Ned (at least, according to his unreliably spotty memory, but he feels like he would remember a gift like that).

But even more than that, what hit him the most were the emotions he felt when looking at that necklace. Excitement, happiness, fear. Excitement as in excited for a close friend. Fear as in holy-shit-I’m-about-to-blow-up-and-die fear. Both of those felt pretty extreme emotionally. Especially for a piece of jewelry he couldn’t remember the origin of. His eyes flicked up to MJ’s and they shared a moment of mutual confusion.

He shook his head at her question. “No, I don’t remember it. But I can feel that I did, at one point.” MJ nodded.

“I figured as much.” she tucked the pendant back into her shirt. “I can feel whoever gave it to me was important.” she said quietly. “I asked about Peter because he’s the one who questioned who gave it to me, and that was the first time I really realized how much I’ve forgotten.” she shrugged. “But anyone could have asked, really. It was probably just a coincidence that it was him, I doubt he has anything to do with it.”

Ned nodded, but internally, he wasn’t so sure. Frankly, everything had been so confusing these past few weeks that if someone told him that he had forgotten something he’d probably just believe them without questioning it. He’d been forgetting things ever since his lego-

“Oh right, shit, my lego man. I didn’t tell you about that.” he said to MJ, who looked up at him in confusion. Understandably so, they’d just been talking about Peter Parker and now he was talking about a lego man. Nevertheless, he continued. “You know how I love my lego sets. And I’ve never lost a piece, not once.” MJ nodded. She never had a particular affinity for building legos, but she’d always sit there and read while Ned assembled them with-

By himself? No, that couldn’t be right. He remembered building it with someone. Well, that would have to wait, he wasn’t gonna remember right now and MJ was staring at him, waiting for him to continue. So he did.

“Anyways yeah, I’ve never lost a piece before, but now I can’t find my lego man for the death star set. And yeah, that set was a shit ton of pieces, and I remember dropping it out of… surprise? one time, but I also remember searching and accounting for each of the pieces. I’d never lose one, especially not one of the figurines. Those are easiest to keep track of because they’re so distinct.” Ned said, and okay, maybe he was just overreacting. Losing one piece out of 3,449 pieces, especially when his memory seemed to be forgetting whole people and experiences now, shouldn’t seem too out of the ordinary. But it felt important. And very out of character. He was a man who took his legos seriously.

One look at MJ confirmed his suspicions that this was out of the ordinary. But she had nothing much to say on the matter, either- they were both lacking memories and both just as confused about it as the start.

MJ sighed. “Well, at least I know I’m not crazy now, but we’re really not much better off than we were at the beginning of this conversation.”

Ned shrugged. “I mean… we now know that we both have gaps in our memories, over and around the same things, but that we can still feel the emotions attached to those memories. And we’re missing some important things. And we have an association with someone named Strange.”

“Yeah well, that doesn’t help us much.” MJ said. “I mean, what are we gonna do, google the word strange? We’ll just come up with a bunch of definitions for the word itself. That doesn’t seem like it’ll lead anywhere.”

“We could ask Peter?” Ned suggested, and MJ raised her eyebrow.

“Ned, we barely know the guy. He came in twice, ordered coffee, asked for my name, and asked about my necklace. That’s all pretty basic conversational talk.”

Ned shrugged. “I mean sure, but he feels trustworthy. I dunno why, but I do. If all we have from the gaps in our memories are the emotions to go along with it, I feel like I should trust my emotions more than my head. And my emotions say to trust him.”

MJ rolled her eyes. “Emotions can be susceptible too, Ned. I’m not saying he’s not trustworthy, but we know nothing about him and I’m sure we don’t want to just drag a random stranger into this. Plus, people can be strangely charismatic and then be up to no good, it’s obvious you haven’t watched enough crime documentaries.”

Ned rolled his eyes right back. “You are a deeply untrusting person, Ms. Jones.” he said snootily. “But fine, we’ll follow your murder radar sense or whatever you want to call it.” he ignored her mutter of “it’s called common sense, Leeds.” and continued. “But we do need to figure out why the hell our memories are like this because it’s really annoying and also I would like to know what happened to my lego man.”

MJ sighed. “Yes, Ned, we’ll figure out what happened to your lego man and avenge him or whatever.” Ned grinned.

The bell rang a few minutes later, signaling their next class. Ned sighed. Time to go listen to Mr. Cobbwell make shitty chemistry puns. He bumped MJ’s shoulder as a sign of farewell. She gave him a half shove back.

“See you next class, loser.” she called, and he gave her a grin and wave before heading to the classroom. It felt weird, walking alone. Like he should have someone with him, going to AP chemistry, while MJ headed off to english. He shook the thought off. That was just the loneliness getting to him. He’d never had another friend. His brain was making things up (or making a lack thereof, to be more accurate).

No matter how much he told it to himself, in his gut, he could feel that something- someone- was missing.

Chapter Text

Peter shot a web to the top of the nearest building, watching as it connected before allowing his momentum to swing him in a graceful arc to the top, before he let go of his web and was falling again. He shot another web and repeated the process, swinging through the city and scanning the ground for any indication of crime that he could stop. He almost found himself asking Karen if there was any activity before catching himself, remembering that he no longer had the Stark suit and was stuck with his new, handmade one. He was rather proud of his development in stitching skills, but he really did miss Karen. He missed all interactions with people who really knew him. Making new friends was so much effort and they’d never be like Ned or MJ anyways, so why even bother.

Every time he saw them in the coffee shop he had the urge to say something, to end the loneliness that pervaded his thoughts and the pang in his heart every time he saw them.

But every time, he stopped himself- though he’d made a promise that he would come find them and tell them, he’d made that promise to his Ned and MJ. They were still Ned and MJ, now, but in forgetting Peter Parker, they were no longer his. He had no right to use his knowledge of their likes and dislikes (things he’d grown to learn about them) to get close to them again. It felt too much like manipulation. Why insert himself into their life if they were happy and safe without him?

There was still a part of him, deep inside, that desperately hoped that they’d find out, on their own. If they approached him, realizing something was missing, and realizing it was him, maybe then he’d be worthy of their interactions. But even he realized how unlikely that was, and if they were content without him in their life then he would just have to live with that. He would do anything for the people he loved, even if he had to love them silently and without their knowledge. Peter sighed, swinging his way to the top of a low-rise building to perch on it. There was no use following this train of thought again. He always reached the same conclusion. He stared down at the streets, partially hidden in the shadows of the building but close enough that he could discern the faces of the people on the street below him. The sound of their conversations carried up to him, a jumble of not-quite-discernable noises; it was only if he focused that he could figure out what they were saying. Sometimes he’d sit there for hours and just… listen. Even if the voices weren’t talking to him, it was the closest he’d come to familiar, friendly conversations in a while.

He was still sitting there, legs swinging mindlessly over the edge, when his spidey sense began to tingle. Peter’s eyes narrowed immediately, senses going on high alert and muscles tensing, but he forced himself to relax and continue his leg swinging to maintain a front of unbotheredness while scanning his surroundings. His spidey sense was screaming at him… but not in the way it usually did, such as when he was about to get hit by a car or shot or stabbed or get a building collapsed on him. No, his senses were tingling in the way that they did when someone was watching him- a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, not since the forgetting spell. His eyes scanned the people below him, searching… searching… until they landed on a pair looking right back at him. Peter almost jerked back in surprise. Most of the time, it wasn’t that odd to have people look at Spider-Man. But this wasn’t any normal civilian. Looking up at him from the street, making direct eye contact with him, was Dr. Strange.

Peter’s heart clenched and his breathing picked up without his accord. Calm down, Peter. He berated himself. You’re dressed in the Spider-Man suit, it’s not that unusual that another superhero would come seek you out. You fought with him on Titan. The thoughts flashed through his head, unbidden. Wait, does he even remember Titan? I was unmasked for part of it, and he wouldn’t remember Peter Parker, but he should remember Spider-Man. Jameson certainly did. That train of thought was cut off as Dr. Strange started to float his way up to the rooftop that Peter was on. He stood up to greet the sorcerer, heart hammering in his chest.

Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. Act norma-

“Spider-Man.” Strange greeted him with a tilt of his head. Peter cleared his throat.

“Dr. Strange.” he acknowledged, nodding his head in greeting. He desperately wanted to ask how much the man remembered from Titan and afterwards, but that would decidedly be under the ‘not normal’ category, so he restrained himself. “How- uh, how can I help you?”

He expected the man to immediately bring up some battle or fight thing he had to prepare for, or some similar Avengers-type of threat. He did not expect the man to tilt his head further and squint at him, examining him closely like one would examine a piece of fine china for cracks or chips. Peter was feeling as fragile as fine china, at the moment. Ready to shatter at the slightest slip-up. He’d thought it would be easier to face Strange than it would be his friends, but in some ways, it was almost harder.

“Everyone who knows and loves you… we’ll forget you.” His words echoed in Peter’s mind, and his chest ached with yet another lost relationship, one that paralleled Tony far too much for Peter’s liking. Lucky for him, he wasn’t allowed to dwell on these thoughts for too long as Strange finally spoke.

“You were at the Statue of Liberty fight.” Strange said, gaze still piercing him with an unreadable expression. Peter staggered back like he’d been sucker-punched. Out of all the things Strange could have said to him, that was… not at all what he was expecting. All the breath felt like it had escaped him. If he remembered the fight… Peter didn’t dare entertain the rest of the possibilities that stemmed from that.

“You remember me?” Peter’s voice came out in a strangled sort of way, and, ok, he hadn’t meant to lead with that question, lest Strange think he was absolutely insane, but this was the first time someone had confronted him with a memory of him in it, and it was so foreign and glorious Peter didn’t know what to do with himself.

“No.” Strange replied, but before Peter could drop and shatter into a million pieces, he continued. “I know I don’t remember you. And I know that’s suspicious. So I want to know why. Tell me everything.”

Peter pulled his mask off, because there wasn’t much point in hiding anymore. Strange could find him if he really wanted to. Plus, a little desperate part of him wanted Strange to see his face and remember him. He opened and closed his mouth, at a loss for words. He’d spent so long battling with the idea of telling someone, and could never bring himself to do it. Now here someone was, asking him about it, forcing his hand, and he had no idea what to do. Words seemed frozen in place, and all he could do was stand there as the chilly winter wind blew around him and stung his cheeks as he twisted his mask in his hands. Strange seemed to notice this, and he took it as a cue to stop levitating and lower himself to the roof next to Peter, putting a hand on his shoulder and leading him further inwards so the roof’s half-walls blocked some of the harsh wind. Peter felt tears well up in his eyes at the gentle touch- it had been so long since he’d received even a friendly shoulder pat, much less a hug, and the realization of how much he was missing out on hit him again as tears threatened to spill over. Luckily, between the harsh wind and the cold, he could play it off, at least enough that Strange didn’t ask him about it. Strange turned to face him again and took the lead in the conversation, as Peter hadn’t said anything yet.

“First, tell me your name.”

“My name is Peter Parker.” That, at least he could do. He’d gotten used to introducing himself, these days. He looked for any flicker of recognition in Strange’s face, but his heart fell when he found none. Strange merely nodded at him to go on. Peter paused, once again, to gather his thoughts. He hadn’t told his friends this, upon seeing them happy without him and out of the fear he would put them in danger, but… Strange was a superhero, attracting danger on his own. Knowing who Peter was didn’t put him at any additional risk, certainly not to the level he couldn’t take care of. Plus… Peter was just so tired. And lonely. He’d barely had the ability to process this on his own, and he just wanted to be able to talk to someone- an adult- again. Wanted to lay out all of his problems and have them fixed, like he was a little kid again. (He wanted May, his mind whispered, but he couldn’t have that, so he pushed that thought away). Before he even realized it, his mouth was moving and he was talking.

“Well… it really started after Tony’s death.” Peter blew a breath out through his nose, turning to look at the New York skyline instead of at Stange’s face. “He gave me these glasses with an AI- called EDITH- though I suspect he didn’t mean for me to have them for quite a bit, until I matured some, Nick Fury showed up on my school trip with them and told me about a threat. Elementals, he said.” He chanced a look back at Strange’s face, which was impassive except for a small nod.

“I remember seeing those on the news. Mysterio, was it?” Strange asked. Peter nodded again, throat tightening at the memories.

“Yeah…. Yeah, that’s the one. Masqueraded as a superhero, but, ah… turns out he was the crazy guy at the root of the illusion technology EDITH used, and was using those illusions to make up the elemental monsters and fight them to seem like a hero. And… I was an idiot.” Peter coughed to hide that he was beginning to choke on his words. “I trusted him. He was… well, he seemed like a mentor, of sorts, and Fury had introduced us, and I… missed Mr. Stark.” he trailed off, and could feel Strange’s eyes piercing into the side of his head, as he still examined the far-off skyline. Still, the man said nothing, allowing him to continue. “A lot of things happened, but to give you the short version: I fucked up, trusted him, gave him the EDITH glasses, and then I had to fight him to stop him from hurting more people. Except then… I’m not even sure how he did it, because I thought…. I thought he was dead. But someone- his cronies, probably, or hell, maybe even himself- manipulated and released footage painting me as the criminal who ‘killed the hero Mysterio’ while revealing my identity to the world.” Peter couldn’t help the bitterness that leeched into his tone at the end there. He was still bitter. He was still angry. So, so angry at what Mysterio had taken away from him. Angry at himself for trusting too much and ruining his own life. He looked back up to meet Strange’s stare.

“Interesting.” the man mused. “I remember seeing those events, on TV, up until the point of your identity reveal. I did hear some rumors that Mysterio had died, but he popped up so quickly and disappeared just as quickly that I mostly forgot about him. As did apparently everyone else.” Peter pursed his lips and nodded. He figured that was probably what happened. Strange nodded at him to continue and Peter sighed.

“Well, as I’m sure you can guess, having your identity revealed and then being pinned for the murder of a supposed superhero didn’t exactly paint Spider-Man or his… accomplices in good light.” he paused, swallowing. “My friends… had to put up with a lot of shit. So did my aunt. All for just being associated with me. They assured me they didn’t mind, and I was able to agree, because I had no real other solutions… up until college letters started to come in.” Peter closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose again, remembering the butterflies in his stomach as he’d ripped open that letter with his friends, only to be hit with crushing disappointment.

“My friends and I had dreamed of MIT for years.” He paused, opening his eyes again to look Strange directly in the face. “And their letters said they couldn’t be admitted for associating with me. And I know they could have gotten in were it not for that. I know, because… they’re admitted now. Without me in the equation.” He pursed his lips as Strange examined him closely, still saying nothing. He was starting to hate that. The man had far too good of a poker face and Peter had no idea what was going through his head. He was in too deep now to stop, though, and there was something relieving about dumping all of this on someone. He just wished he could know what on earth the man was thinking during his long-winded explanation.

“So… that was the final straw. I was ruining my friends’ and families’ lives, just by being Spider-Man. And that’s not fair to them. I chose to be Spider-Man. They didn’t have a say, and they sure as hell didn’t sign up for their lives to be fucked over by it.” Strange looked like he was going to say something, then, but Peter barrelled on. He knew his friends would have said that was stupid- MJ probably would have given him a lecture about how if she didn’t want to stay around Spider-Man, she wouldn’t have. But he continued talking regardless, and Strange didn’t interrupt.

“So I came to you.” he admitted, watching Stephen’s eyebrows quirk up in surprise. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. “We’d fought on Titan, and I knew of the time stone, and I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try something. You told me you didn’t have the time stone, and even if you did, you wouldn’t be able to mess around with the space time continuum or something like that, but then you must have taken sympathy on me or something because you remembered a spell that would make people forget I was Spider-Man.” he rushed out. Strange’s eyebrows were still raised in surprise, and he opened his mouth to speak. Peter didn’t try to speak over him this time.

“I must say… that is not what I expected, but I can see how it got to that point. A relatively harmless spell that has worked before with… minimal repercussions.” He peered at Peter, eyebrows furrowing. “But that’s not the end of the story, is it? Otherwise you wouldn’t be in the situation you’re in right now. Something went wrong with the spell.” Peter pursed his lips and nodded, swallowing down his guilt. This, in particular, was all his fault. If he could go back and accept that deal he would do it over and over again. Even if they forgot Spider-Man, they’d still remember him… and May would still be alive. He swallowed his guilt and grief and nodded again.

“Yeah that was… that was my fault.” his voice cracked at the end and he winced, but Strange merely watched him, waiting for him to continue. “I… messed up your spell. I didn’t want to go through May finding out again, or MJ forgetting everything we’d been through, or Ned, or Happy…” he trailed off, guilt threatening to consume him. “I was… too chatty, for lack of a better word, and messed up, and you had to shut the spell down.” he ducked his head, unable to look Strange in the eye and face the disappointment and anger he was sure would be there at the revelation. The man still said nothing, so Peter took it as a sign to continue. He took a deep breath. “Turns out I screwed up really bad, because I said something like ‘basically everyone who knew I was Peter Parker before should still know’ or some stupid shit like that.”

Even just saying those words again sent a shiver through Peter, like he was messing up a spell again, even though he knew he was no sorcerer and was just on a rooftop. “Apparently, that meant…. Everyone. As in, from the multiverse. So all the villains who had… died… fighting Spider-Man… they all came here. Right before they were supposed to die.” Strange was still silent. “My Aunt May… she said I brought them here, so they were my responsibility, and I couldn’t just shove them back into their universes without trying to help.” He choked on a sob at the thought of May, again, and her endless drive to help people, and where that got her. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into the eyes of Strange, which, much to his surprise, didn’t hold disappointment or anger. He wasn’t quite sure what they held, but the hand on his shoulder squeezed in a comforting manner, encouraging him to continue.

“And… along with the villains, apparently came other versions of me. Spider-Man. They didn’t come in until after- after May…” he choked again, unable to say the word, unable to cement it into this fragile reality he had that could shatter at any moment. But the hand squeezed his shoulder again and he knew Strange understood- an invite to skip ahead and just say the rest of the story. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I- really wanted revenge, on one of the villains, the one who… hurt May.” he paused again, drawing in a shaky breath. “The other Spider-Men wouldn’t let me. They’d all experienced loss, and revenge before. And they didn’t want me going down that path.” He sighed, bowing his head. “We did it, and cured them all, so they wouldn’t have to die at the hands of Spider-Man when they returned to their universes. But… by that point, the multiverse was fracturing, and other timelines and people were trying to get through to Peter Parker, and the only way to fix it all was to have everyone forget… me.” He swallowed again. “So I asked you to cast a spell to forget Peter Parker. You warned me what would happen, and it… was my choice. And it worked. Everything has stayed intact since then.” he trailed off, unsure of what more to say.

“And you haven’t told your friends, yet?”

Peter’s head snapped up to look at Strange. Out of all the things the man could have said after that entire explanation, that was not what he expected he’d lead with. He’d expected more of something around the lines of “you’re insane.” He pursed his lips and shook his head. “No.” he admitted softly. “I haven’t.”

Strange regarded him with a contemplative look. “Any reason why?”

“Look…” Peter started, drawing in a breath and feeling the cold air numb his windpipe. “I made a promise to my friends that I would come and find them, and explain everything. But those people I left behind? They’re not mine anymore. I love them, but they don’t know me. And I can’t just… mess that up for them again. You’re capable of defending yourself, if you know me, and who I am. I’m not putting you in any extra danger. You chose the superhero life, just as I did, despite the risks. They’re in danger just by knowing me, and it’s not fair to them to put them through that when they’re already happy, just to make me happy. Not when they have another choice. To be normal. To be safe.”

Strange continued to look at him, emotions flickering behind his guarded eyes. When he spoke again, it felt like a punch to the gut. “Don’t you think it’s unfair of you to decide on their lives like that?” Peter opened and closed his mouth, at a loss for words. Strange sighed. “Look, kid, I’m not going to force anything on you, or force you to talk with them. But you’re going to need people in your life. Humans weren’t built to be alone. We need companionship. With that argument, any person you get close to will be in danger. Why cut yourself off from the people you love now, when you know you can’t live without them? Plus, it’s their right to know. It’s their lives, too, not just yours. You say I chose the superhero life, just as you did. That’s true, but they also chose that life, and the risks that were associated with it, to stay with you. Just because they aren’t superheroes themselves doesn’t mean they don’t have the right to assess the risks and decide what to do of their own accord.”

Peter stared at him, hands twisting tighter around his mask. At some basic level, he knew this. He knew even if he made new friends they would be in danger, too, no matter how hard he tried to keep Spider-Man away from them and their lives. As much as he desperately tried, Spider-Man and Peter Parker were intrinsically intertwined, and at some point, one would cross paths with the other. And he missed Ned and MJ so much his heart ached with a ferocity he didn’t know he could feel. But he was scared. Scratch that, he was downright terrified. He knew they had a right to know, and that they’d told him to come find them, but he was terrified that he would lay it all out just like he did with Strange, and that they would brush him off, call him crazy, or worst of all, decide that he wasn’t worth trying to remember. He didn’t know how he would handle that, so it would just be better if he never tried at all.

Then again, a small part of him whispered, wouldn’t that risk be worth it if he got to see them and love them again?

He thought he’d been resolute on his decision not to tell them before, but now… he wasn’t so sure. He knew Strange was right- MJ would be absolutely furious if she knew he was making choices about her life without her knowledge. A small smile quirked the corners of his lips at the thought. He brought his eyes back up to Strange and nodded at him.

“Thank you.” he breathed out, the words having far too much meaning to them than he would have liked. Strange nodded, eyes looking conflicted, like he wanted to say something.

“I’ve only used the Runes a few times before, for minor things.” he started. “That was my first time of anything of that magnitude. As I’m sure you may have worked out, the spell doesn’t have the capability to erase memories with other people in it, it just buries it deep and makes it unable to place your face. Such as on Titan, I knew someone else was there, on the spaceship, but until I came looking for you I couldn’t put a name and face to the person. Now I can, though, almost as if I can copy and paste you into the blank spots. With the right prompting… your friends should be able to, as well. The brain creates vivid memories around emotions, so if you can try and make them remember memories with strong emotions attached- love, anger, fear- you’d have the best bet of those resurfacing the easiest and them remembering at least something.” Peter felt his hope flare up. He’d guessed as much, with his deductions, but hearing it straight from the source… well, it gave him a sense of hope he hadn’t felt in a while. A small smile graced his face at the thought of even getting some memories from his friends back. He started to pull his mask back over his face, assuming the conversation was done, now, when Strange spoke again.

“Kid… as much as I would love to fix this, for you, in any way I could… you know even if there were a way, hypothetically, to turn back the spell… I couldn't do that. Not with the fate of the multiverse at stake.” Strange said, his eyes heavy. Peter paused and looked back at him.

“I know.” he said softly. Even if there were… well, Peter wouldn’t dwell on that. He wouldn’t put that strain on Stephen, either. He knew the man cared, but he also knew he had to look out for the greater good, and couldn’t sacrifice the integrity of the multiverse for one Peter Parker. Besides… did he really want to go back into a world where everyone knew he was Spider-Man? It had been nearly unbearable the first time… even with May. He didn’t think he could go through it a second time, and put his friends through that again. He shook his head. No, this way was better. Besides, Strange had given him a spark of hope. Even if his friends never fully regained all of their memories of him… even if it was just partial… well, that was something Peter would have to dwell on. He turned again, about to swing off the roof, when Stephen called out one last thing to him.

“And Peter?” he paused. “For what it’s worth, I hope your friends find their way back to you.”

~ ~ ~

Right after his discussion with Strange, Peter went home and found himself sitting on the floor of his tiny, poorly heated apartment, wrapped in three blankets and staring at the box of documents and photos he hadn’t dared touch before now. He inhaled deeply. He was feeling more fortified, more sure of his place in the world, after he talked to Strange. If anything went wrong, at least… at least there was one person in the whole world who knew the entire story. Who knew who Peter Parker was. He was no longer tethered by a transparent string, wavering between not existing to anyone he once knew and wondering if he even existed in documents anymore. He was ready, now, to face his name on paper, now that they’d been uttered by someone who knew him as opposed to spoken by his own mouth, in a way that made him feel like a fraud. If nobody knows your name other than yourself, what’s to say you’re even in possession of that name? It’s a tenuous attachment to reality, and talking to Strange had solidified it far more than he’d realized it would.

He exhaled softly, hand coming to rest on the flaps of the cardboard box that contained his entire identity. He pulled them open with a soft swishing sound, and the first thing he was met with was the sight of a picture of him and Ned, as kids laughing over a pile of legos. Tears sprung into his eyes, unbidden, as he traced the lines of his friend’s face reverently, a small smile curling his lips at the pure happiness that radiated from the two of them. He placed the photo softly on the ground next to him, reaching in for more memories, stored in the flashes of a camera and swatches of glossy ink on square sheets of paper. Each one he examined closely, soaking in all the second-hand happiness he could get.

It was almost an out-of-body experience, as if he was someone else entirely, grieving over Peter Parker’s death and going through his belongings. But he was Peter Parker, and he wasn’t dead, and the proof of his existence sat right here in this box and Peter had never felt so relieved and giddy as he did at the moment. He reached in again, having lost count of the number of pictures he’d pulled out, when his hand brushed a piece of paper different than the others. It wasn’t glossy like the photos, but rough and slightly bumpy, and jagged around the edges, like it was ripped out of something. He pulled it out of the box and was met with a sketch of his own face- drawn by MJ, presumably ripped out of her crisis notebook. His breath caught in his throat. Unlike her usual focus of people in crisis, this drawing depicted him with his head thrown back in laughter, a wide smile stretched across his face. He remembered the day she gave it to him, shortly after they’d started dating, when she’d ripped it out of her notebook and shoved it into his hands, a faint blush covering her cheeks, saying to keep it because it ‘didn’t fit with the rest of her theme.’ Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes, and he blinked furiously, lifting the drawing off of his lap so that his tears wouldn’t splash on it. A wave of longing hit him, hard. He always missed her, but being faced with this, here- a tangible reminder of how much she once loved him- made his heart clench once again. He shook his head and placed the drawing carefully on top of his other photos, gaze lingering on it for slightly longer than he’d like to admit.

He turned his attention back to the box; having gone through all the photos, he’d reached the legal documents. He found his birth certificate, social security number, adoption papers from May and Ben after his parents died, his driver’s permit, plus his elementary, middle, and high school report cards- up until last semester. Peter picked up the most recent one, tracing his fingers over the class names, and a wave of wistfulness washed over him. It was already senior year, he knew, so he wasn’t missing out on much, but he wondered if he’d ever be able to return to high school. Probably not, he admitted to himself.

Even if he could get back into the school without raising too many questions about a ‘transfer’ student mid-senior year (which was absolutely ludicrous), he’d have to have a guardian, emergency contact, etc… of which he didn’t have any. Plus, he didn’t want to put any more of his classmates in danger in case any of them saw his face and happened to get suspicious about gaps in their memories, too. He also remembered warily how some of them had turned on him when he was supposedly a villain. He had no interest in going through that again and one of them potentially selling him out. No, thank you. He would probably just do a GED to get his high school transcript, and then… maybe college. It was out of the question, at the moment, as he was virtually broke and had no source of income.

But if he could get a steady source of income and access May’s college fund in his name… Peter pushed these thoughts away with a shake of his head. He was getting way too ahead of himself here. First, get an actual job. Continue with Spider-Man. See if Dr. Strange reaches out about anything else. Tell his friends everything (?). He was still conflicted on that last one, but he had a few months before senior year was over and they left for college. A few months to decide whether it was his right to remove himself from their lives or not.

He would never be sorry for keeping them safe, that much was true, but he knew they would be angry at him for making the decision to keep them safe instead of allowing them to be in danger in a life they chose. He sighed. This was too much thinking for one day. He started to pack things away, but not before he took pictures of the legal documents so he could start applying for jobs and such. He was also incredibly lucky May preferred writing down her passwords on paper- something about remembering them easier- so he was able to access the funds she had stored. And, in her will, everything was supposed to go to him, Peter Parker, anyways- he’s not sure what they did at the funeral, if nobody read the will, or if they just assumed she had nothing left to give, as they’d only brought a few things to Happy’s apartment and they were probably assumed to be destroyed. Most likely scenario is that anything with his name in it was just glossed over as a result of the spell- including her will. Unless someone were to directly address it, nothing would likely come of it. So Peter decided to just take matters into his own hands, seeing as he existed legally and it was his to inherit either way, despite never officially being given it.

He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. While he was infinitely glad he still legally existed as Peter Parker, dealing with being the last surviving Parker on his own was not easy, especially because nothing had officially been passed to him and still belonged to a… dead woman. He inhaled sharply at the thought, tears threatening to come back, but there was no use hiding from the sentiment anymore. It was just the truth. May was dead and he was the last surviving Parker, and only one other person on the entire earth knew who he truly was. Peter exhaled. While it sounded depressing as shit, having Strange's knowledge and having everything of legal importance spread out in front of him, with the possible hope of his friends remembering him once again, made his situation feel a lot less daunting than it originally had. He had everything required to set him back on track to a normal (ish) life, and even if he had to make a detour to work and do adult things before going to college, education still wasn’t completely off the table, like he’d originally despaired.

Peter looked through the list of May’s passwords, scanning it until he saw the one for the bank account that held his college funds. He hesitated. He knew it wasn’t on the table at the moment, but he never knew how much she’d stored, and he was somewhat curious. With little hesitation he pulled up a tab on his battered computer and logged on using her username and password. He pulled up the account, waiting for it to load through his very crappy and slow wifi (he was just lucky to have any, though, so he really shouldn’t complain). When the page finally loaded, Peter nearly dropped his computer in shock.

“What the-” he cursed, grabbing his computer by the top to make sure it didn’t smash against the floor. He thought the page was glitching, or his computer had broken down, or he was finally going insane from being alone all this time. But then he saw the name right next to May’s on the account, marking it as a joint contribution, and suddenly it all made sense. His breath caught in his throat and hot tears sprung up once again, but this time he couldn’t stop them from falling even if he’d tried.

Right next to May’s name was Tony’s, and there was more than enough money in the account to cover the expenses for any college he wanted to go to. The screen got blurry as the tears fell faster, and Peter futilely tried to wipe them away with his sleeve. He looked at the date the funds were added, and realized it was during the Blip. Tony had added funds to his college account even when he wasn't around anymore. Peter placed his computer next to him on the bed and buried his face in his hands, hot tears running down his face at the reminder of what he lost, but also the possibilities the man was providing him with, even in death. Briefly, he wondered if May knew. She’d never mentioned it to him- she could have been saving it as a surprise, after he got admitted. Or… she never knew about it. The funds were added during the Blip, after all, when she was gone, too. He shook those thoughts off. It didn’t really matter, now.

He could… he could go to college next year, if he wanted to. MIT’s applications for regular action were still open till January, even though early action- which his friends had done- was in November. He wouldn’t even have to reapply- they merely deferred his application last time, so he could just wait and see if he got into regular action. Hope was springing in his chest, pushing out against his ribcage, pulsing more intensely than it had before, even after the discussion with Strange.

With shaky hands, Peter lifted his computer again, chest pulsing in excitement with all the possibilities of things he could have back. Things he was sure would be gone, after the spell. But if he still existed to computers, he was still a person, and he could do a GED and finish applying to college and get his education and maybe- maybe even have his friends and Happy in his life again. He tried to quell his excitement, warning his brain not to get too ahead of himself, lest he ruin it again, but he couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face.

For the first time in a long, long time, Peter Parker felt like he had a shot at being normal again.

Chapter Text

The days turned to weeks, and still the thought of the man? kid? (he can’t have been older than 22) named Peter by May’s graveside bothered him. Happy sighed as he ran his hand wearily down his face. He knew it shouldn’t, really, there were a lot of people whose lives had been touched by May’s kindness. In fact, he was glad that strangers were coming to see her- the more people touched by her, the more people left to keep her memory alive. But it didn’t feel right to call Peter a stranger; while his face didn’t look familiar to Happy at all, something inside him tugged and curled protectively in the kid’s presence, like his body was trying to tell him to remember. He wished he’d asked for Peter’s last name, then- maybe it would have spurned a memory and stopped this unpleasant pervading sense of forgetfulness.

After being Tony’s bodyguard for many years, Happy had gotten attuned to recognizing and storing faces in his mind, lest they become a potential threat. He’d be the first to admit his memory hadn’t stayed particularly sharp as he’d aged, but it still felt like something was scratching at the corners of his mind whenever he thought of Peter’s face. Like he was missing the bigger picture, one that should be easy to recognize.

Happy groaned and dropped his head into his hands. How had the kid even known May, anyways? He thought back to their introduction, Peter mentioning that he’d known May through Spider-Man. Something lit up in his mind. He knew Spider-Man, quite well in fact, the kid’s name was- it was-

His train of thought screeched to a halt and he frowned in confusion. He’d felt a moment of clarity, for a second there, almost like he had known Spider-Man’s true name at one point. He frowned, pushing back further into his memory, catching glimpses of brown hair and crooked smiles and a youthful laugh, but despite his best efforts, he couldn’t put a name or face to Spider-Man. It was like his brain was running in circles around him, dangling a memory tantalizingly just above him- but Happy hadn’t played capture the flag in years, and any effort on his part was fruitless.

He sank into the chair beneath him, brows furrowed, fingers tapping against the armrest. Maybe if he could just remember where and how he first met Spider-Man, he’d remember. And if he remembered Spider-Man, maybe he’d remember who Peter was, too. (He wasn’t sure why remembering the kid felt so urgent and important to him, but every instinct in him seemed to flare up at the thought, and if May was important to Peter, at least to some degree- well, then, they’d have something in common).

Tap tap. He rhythmically continued to tap on the armrest, delving further into his thoughts. He’d been introduced to Spider-Man by Tony- wait, that couldn’t have been right? But yes, it was. He was introduced to Spider-Man (in a different getup than he currently had) and told to be his… driver. Chaperone. For the Battle of Germany.

Tap tap. The memories were far from clear, though. Everything felt hazy, and Tony was the only clear face in his memories. There was another person there- presumably Spider-Man- but he didn’t have his mask on. Happy squeezed his eyes tighter and tried to envision the person’s face, but try as he might, he had nothing to show for his efforts. All he could recall was another person’s presence, almost invisible- someone who would have been invisible were Happy not actively seeking him out. He floated around the corners of the memory, an unmistakable presence yet ghostly all the same.

Tap tap. The memories didn’t get any clearer as Happy scanned them, except for the odd memory of Spider-Man, in his full costume and mask, doing something that probably wasn’t very advisable and causing Happy a heart attack. Happy frowned at those memories. He could still, clear as day, feel the panic and worry tightening around his chest for the superhero vigilante in each of those memories, even as he remembered snapping at the young man. Yet those memories were sparse, and everything else was foggy. How could he remember caring so deeply about a masked vigilante he barely remembered and who he didn’t know the name of?

Tap tap. The memories became crystal clear after the Blip. He remembered Tony grieving, grieving like a parent who lost his child, over Spider-Man. Except no- once again, that couldn’t be right. He was grieving over a kid- once again, only flashes of brown hair came to mind, no matter how hard Happy tried to pry the corners of his mind open and tear out everything inside. It remained clamped tight and only really succeeded in giving him a headache.

Tap tap. Tony, sitting alone in a room with Happy, holding a Spider-Man Stark suit in his hands and staring despondently at it. The twisting, swirling pit of grief in his gut intensified at the memory.

Tap tap. Happy sat bolt upright, a thought hitting him like a flash. Of course, how did it not occur to him before? The Stark suit. If Tony made Spider-Man a suit, presumably there was information on who was under the suit in his computer database. And if he could find out who Spider-Man was… he could try and fill in the gaps in his memories and maybe try and find out who Peter was.

“FRIDAY, open up all files you have regarding Spider-Man.”

~ ~ ~

MJ sighed, draped over Ned’s spinny desk chair with a blanket as her friend rummaged in his closet. “Remind me why we’re here, again?” she asked, idly spinning in circles. Ned looked up at her, playfully chucking a pencil at her and rolling his eyes.

“I told you, we’re cleaning out my closet. My mom wants me to start going through it and donating some things. I’m gonna have to do it for college, anyways, so I might as well get a head start.”

“It’s December, Ned.” MJ deadpanned. “We’re not going to college for like 9 months.”

Ned merely shrugged. “You know how my family is, MJ. Any space I gain from clearing this stuff out will no doubt be filled by new Christmas gifts. My mom calls it pre-Christmas donation time- getting all our old stuff out to Goodwill in time for people to buy gifts.”

MJ did, in fact, know how Ned’s family was. They basically did spring cleaning but in winter (let it be known Ned’s giant family took Christmas gift-giving very seriously. It somewhat baffled MJ, who’d only ever had very laid-back, tiny gatherings with her immediate family). She sighed. “Yeah, yeah. But why am I here?”

Ned gave her a look. “What, you don’t want to be here with your only best friend? You’re going to abandon me and banish me to cleaning out my closets all by myself?” he asked, giving her a mock pout. She snorted and reached over to shove his shoulder playfully, even as something in her chest tightened and twisted at the ‘only best friend’ part. It didn’t feel right- it felt intrinsically wrong, in fact, but they hadn’t discussed the weird gaps in their memories since the day in the library, and neither of them had much to add on the situation, so they simply didn’t address it. It’s times like these that drove MJ crazy, though. She hated feeling like she was missing out on information- especially important information, or things that feel like they should be obvious but she can’t, for the life of her, figure them out.

She idly spun around on the chair, one leg kicking slowly to keep her in a semi-constant spin. Ned had returned to rummaging through his closet. The two sat in amicable silence for a long stretch of time as Ned sorted things into piles and MJ just spun in his chair, lost in thought. Suddenly, the silence was broken by Ned’s snort. MJ turned to look at him as he held up a folder that was stuffed to the brim with papers and falling apart at the edges.

“Hey, Em, check this out.” Ned said, eyes sparkling. “It’s my school folder from two years ago. Wanna go through it?”

MJ snorted in return, stopping her idle spinning and shifting out of her chair. “Sure, why not. We can see how much of a nerd you were.”

“Still are.” Ned corrected her, and she rolled her eyes fondly, the two of them settling onto the carpet as Ned opened the folder and started to spread the contents on the floor. MJ remembered Ned had the habit of just taking all the papers he accumulated during a year and cramming it into one folder to shove into his closet and never look at it again. Frankly, it was a miracle the folder was still intact, from how it was straining at the spine to hold the weight of tests and quizzes and homework that Ned had collected through the year.

The two of them made their way through all the work, tossing old homework sheets and just keeping the tests and quizzes, plus the occasional essay, substantially narrowing down the pile of paper. MJ snorted as she pulled out a history essay on Captain America.

“I still can’t believe you wrote your final paper on this.” she surveyed it with amusement as Ned looked over at her.

“Hey, it worked out, I got an A.” he defended himself. “Besides, I would argue the history behind Captain America was a better concept than the history of true crime in the United States.” Ned said, quirking his eyebrow at MJ. “I think you scarred Mr. Harrington.”

MJ simply shrugged in response, placing the paper in the “save” pile. They’d gone through most of the folder by now- MJ had been working on the left side, and Ned on the right (his side had more papers in it, so MJ just had two or three sheets left). She quickly threw the last two papers into the discard pile, giving them once-overs before realizing they were old math worksheets and didn’t need to be saved. She shoved her hand back into the folder pocket to check for any remaining scraps of paper when her hand hit a coarse, folded up scrap of paper that was jagged on one edge.

MJ frowned and pulled it out- it was a square of paper a few inches wide, and it looked like it had been folded several times over. She started to unfold it curiously, recognizing it as the paper from her sketchbook- though why Ned had it stuffed in the back of his folder, she didn’t know. She didn’t even remember what it was, it had been so much time. Ned continued on his pile of paperwork, oblivious to her finding.

“Hey MJ, do you remember this test we had to take?” he asked, holding out an old bio test. “God, I remember studying for that, it was brutal-” he cut himself off when he heard MJ gasp and scramble backwards. Okay, maybe scramble was not the right word. Either way, she pushed herself back in shock, and the paper she had been holding fell from her hand to the floor, face-up in between the duo. They both stared at the drawing that presented itself to them, at a loss for words and astounded and mildly terrified at what this meant for them.

Staring up at them from the paper was the unmistakable face of Peter Parker.

And next to him, Ned Leeds.

Drawn by Michelle Jones.

One of her trademark ‘crisis drawings’, at Midtown’s lunch table, of Peter Parker, looking distressed, with Ned obviously comforting him.

MJ and Ned were silent for a few minutes, staring at the drawing. There was no explanation for it. No logical, normal way to explain it. No possible way for a stranger to be in one of MJ’s drawings, from sophomore year, being comforted in an obviously familiar way by Ned. If MJ didn’t know any better, she would have said Peter was Ned’s best friend, not her. Not from the way this drawing depicted.

“What the fuck?” Ned rasped, finding his voice, eyes raising to meet hers. MJ shook her head minutely, not even knowing what to say. She was once again lost for words, and if she thought she didn’t know anything before, well she sure as hell didn’t know any more now.

“Do you think…” MJ started, staring at Ned. “The gaps in our memories?” she gestured at the paper. “How weird Peter was acting around us, and staring at me, in the coffee shop that day. Do you think he…. knew us? And we knew him? But can’t remember?”

Ned shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. But how on earth would that even happen? Why would we just forget a whole person, especially if we were…” he gestured at the drawing. “...close?”

“I don’t know either.” MJ said, sighing, before grabbing the drawing to look at it again. Her eyes scanned every detail, and yeah, the style was unmistakably hers. She’d improved her technique since then, and her eyes couldn’t help but catch onto every little mistake in the work, but it was clearly identifiable as hers. Not to mention being in Ned’s folder- one that hadn’t been out of his closet in two years. It certainly hadn’t been taken out or meddled with by someone. So there was only one real explanation.

They used to know Peter Parker. And now they don’t. And MJ needed to know why. A quick glance at Ned showed he shared her sentiments.

“We need to ask him.” Ned said. “We’ve gotta ask him, show him the picture, anything.”

MJ shook her head. “How? He hasn’t stopped by Peter Pan’s in ages, and it’s not like we know anything about the guy. We have basically nothing to go off of. No pictures, no phone number, no address. We saw him a couple of times in a coffee shop, he acted weird, that was that.”

Ned furrowed his eyebrows. “Well. We don’t know what happened to make us forget him, but we can assume a few things, right? Obviously physical things stay intact, like the drawing. By that reasoning, what are other physical things we could have? Other drawings, from your sketchbook.”

“Photos.” MJ said, starting a mental list. “Legal records, probably, though I can’t imagine it would be easy to find those given only a name and no real access.”

Ned nodded. “I can try and hack into Midtown’s records and see what I can find, maybe it’ll have some information about him.”

MJ furrowed her brows. “It’s just confusing. If he went to our school, did he transfer out? I can’t imagine nobody would ever mention his name again. Even if he transferred during the summer, teachers always accidentally call out students’ names for months after they leave when they’re doing attendance roll calls.”

Ned shrugged. “We don’t know what happened at all, though. Something’s obviously up, but we wouldn’t have known or figured it out if we weren’t looking for details. Maybe they just brush over it. They do have a ton of other students, after all.”

“I suppose.” MJ acquiesced. “What other digital or physical records could he have left behind, then?”

Ned’s eyes lit up. “Do you think I’d have his phone number saved?” he asked, grabbing for his phone on the desk behind him. “I mean, in the drawing we look pretty close, I normally get people’s numbers the second I meet them, I can’t imagine he’d be any different.” He opened his phone and scrolled to the contacts app. They held their breath as Ned typed in “Peter.”

He didn’t even have to get three letters in before “Peter Parker” popped up as the first option. The two exchanged glances before Ned tapped on the profile, tilting his screen so MJ could see.

The profile loaded and MJ inhaled sharply while Ned made a surprised noise in the back of his throat.

If there was any doubt before that they used to know Peter Parker, there was no doubt now. The profile picture for Peter was obviously personal, with the now-familiar face pulled in a goofy expression. Underneath Peter’s name in the contact section was a spider-web emoji, but MJ didn’t dwell on that for long, instead staring at the profile picture.

Once again, the two of them were shocked into abject silence. “Well.” MJ started. “We’re kind of stuck on this mystery now.”

Ned merely nodded, unable to speak. Before MJ could stop herself, she tapped the phone number on the profile, and it started to ring on speaker. Ned was petrified in place, phone clenched tightly in his hand, and all MJ could do was stare while the ringing filled the room.

Ring ring.

MJ truthfully had no idea what would happen if Peter picked up. What would they even say? “Hey, Ned and I found a drawing of you and you were a contact in Ned’s phone, why the hell can’t either of us remember you even existing?”

Ring ring.

Frankly, she was terrified, and so was Ned. None of this made sense, none of it at all. But for the first time in ages, MJ felt clarity. This had to be connected to the gaps in hers’ and Ned’s memories. Peter Parker was a mystery she was determined to figure out (she’d always loved a good mystery, after all).

Ring ring.

Come on, come on, Parker, pick up. Frankly, she didn’t know whether the prospect of him picking up or not picking up was more terrifying. On one hand, if he picked up, they’d be able to ask him directly about all of this, instead of just… wondering. On the other hand, if he didn’t pick up, they would have no way to get in contact with him. In a city filled with 9 million people.

Ring ring. Click.

An automated female voice filled the room.

“We’re sorry, the number you’re trying to call is no longer in service.”

MJ blew out a breath of disappointment as the call abruptly ended. “Well, it was worth a shot. Maybe he just couldn’t pay for it anymore or something. Or he just switched numbers. If he was trying to cover his tracks.”

Ned rubbed his temples, eyes squeezed shut, blowing out a similar breath. “Okay, so. Phone number didn’t work. What about texts? Social media? Those should all still work.” he opened his eyes to see MJ nodding.

“Yeah, I’ll make a list.” she said, standing to grab a notepad. She drew a T-chart, labeling one side ‘worked’ and another side ‘didn’t work.’ Under ‘didn’t work’ she wrote ‘phone number.’ She looked back up at Ned. “We’ll find him.”

She didn’t know whether it was herself or Ned she was trying to reassure, but Ned nodded back.

“Operation: Find Peter Parker is now in play.”

~ ~ ~

Happy groaned, slamming his laptop shut as he reached yet another dead end. “Goddamnit, Tony.” he growled at his late best friend, scowling at yet another [access denied] signal he was receiving from the stupid security systems.

For being someone he couldn’t even clearly remember, obtaining information about Spider-Man was proving to be very difficult. Tony had clearly cared about the guy enough to put an obnoxious number of security walls in place so that- even with Happy’s clearance- it was proving very hard to even get the guy’s name. Unfortunately, that only made Happy even more determined to find out more because he had to be onto something if there was this much security guarding it.

He sighed- for the umpteenth time, it seemed- and decided to take a different route, picking up his phone and dialing a familiar number. It picked up after only a few rings.

“Pepper, hi.” Happy started, hearing Pepper greet him back warmly. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you, but I have a small request- I’m trying to get into some files about Spider-Man and I can’t get into them from here, even with my clearance, so if you could get FRIDAY to help me out here, that would be greatly appreciated. I know you have the override codes from Tony and all that.”

“Oh, please, Happy, no apologies needed, I have plenty of time. And I’ll have FRIDAY grant you access. Though may I ask what the particular interest in Spider-Man is, all of a sudden?”

At that, Happy wasn’t exactly sure what to say. He felt bad lying to Pepper, but he didn’t exactly want to tell her the truth before he even knew what the truth was. “Not really, I just remember Tony used to help the guy out a little bit and I wanted to see if there was anything I could do now for him, given that I don’t really have any way to get in contact with him other than from what Tony has stored. He’s a good kid, from what I remember.” The nickname ‘kid’ slipped out before he could help it, and Happy frowned to himself. Sure, Spider-Man was young, but he wasn’t that young, was he? He shook himself out of his thoughts as Pepper responded.

“Alright, Happy.” she sounded a bit skeptical (Happy was never any good at lying to her, she was too perceptive), but she didn’t push it. “FRIDAY doesn’t seem to be particularly happy with sharing the files, for some reason. She’s been acting a little strange recently- maybe that’s why you’re having trouble getting in on your end.” she didn’t sound particularly concerned, but Happy frowned anyways.

“Weird how?” he asked.

“Nothing big, she seems fine some days when all you ask her is data-related questions or simple tasks, but you know how Tony tried to make all his AI’s as human-like as possible. When she acts more human-like, joking around and such, sometimes she’ll glitch out for a bit and then come back and say she’s been having issues with her past storage bank and has been trying to self-fix but can’t pinpoint the issue. But then you ask her for any specificities from those time frames and she provides them perfectly. It’s probably just a small glitch that she hasn’t been able to find yet. I’m sure she’ll work it out.” Happy frowned again. It didn’t sound like a big issue, but something niggled in his brain that told him this was more important and part of the bigger picture. He shook his head.

“Alright, if you insist, Pepper. Thank you for the access to the files. Say hi to Morgan for me.” Happy said, and he could feel Pepper smiling over the phone.

“Of course, Happy. I hope you find what you’re looking for in those files.”

Truth be told, he had no idea what he was looking for in those files, but it was a nice sentiment regardless. “Thank you, Pepper. Me too.”

With that, the call was over, and Happy finally opened his laptop again, seeing [access granted] and breathing a sigh of relief.

“Alright, Tony, let’s see what you’ve got on this guy.” he said, clicking on the main file and waiting for it to load. When it did, a name popped up, as well as a picture, short description of powers and general information, and… all known relatives.

“Well, shit.”

~ ~ ~

Ned groaned as they came across another dead end. Social media was a no. So were Midtown’s records. Even a google search turned up fruitless- though by that point the duo were getting desperate and didn’t really expect it to work. Ned sighed and watched MJ flop backwards on the bottom bunk of the twin bed in his room.

“He probably deleted or blocked everything he could to keep his trail clear.” MJ sighed, frustrated.

“I still don’t understand.” Ned said. “Why would he just disappear from our memories in the first place? And why wouldn’t he tell us, if we were so close?”

MJ turned her head to look at him. “Well, we don’t know if he was the one wiping our memories in the first place, or whether it was someone else. Obviously, if it were him, he wouldn’t want to tell us because that kind of defeats the whole purpose. But given that he came to Peter Pan’s and told us his full name and looked like he really wanted to say something, my guess is that it wasn’t really his choice. And he was probably trying to tell us, but I mean, come on, if someone had told us all of this a few weeks ago, we probably would have thought he was crazy. Before, y’know.” she gestured at the drawing. Ned looked at her.

“Do you think it- whatever it is- erased everyone’s memories of him? Or just us?” he asked, hesitating over the question that had been on his mind for ages. “I mean, not that we’d know any of his family members or anything- I mean we probably used to, but- nobody at school has mentioned him, so they probably don’t remember either, I mean unless they’re all just hiding it because nobody else is mentioning it or anything like that, y’know, a self perpetuating cycle-” he rambled, not noticing MJ’s eyes widening.

“Ned.” MJ cut him off. “You’re a genius.”

Ned’s brows furrowed. “I am? I mean, I guess I am, thanks-” he was cut off once again by MJ jumping off the bed and rushing to the computer the two of them had left open on the floor, browser still open on the unsuccessful google search for ‘Peter Parker.’ She hesitated for a brief second, eyes flashing with uncertainty, before deleting the word ‘Peter’ and typing in ‘May.’

Ned stared at her in confusion as the webpage began to load. “May Parker? Who-” he clutched his head as a flood of memories rushed in, and he gaped at MJ. “Oh my god. May.”

MJ stared at him grimly, nodding. “You mentioned not knowing his family members. Relatives. But we do. Did.”

Ned’s mind whirled as he tried to process the new (old?) rush of memories. He still didn’t remember Peter, not really. But he remembered May. He remembered knowing her since he was a kid, her wide, radiant smile, her soft brown eyes- eyes that were mirrored in Peter’s, from what little Ned could remember from the coffee shop. He wished he’d paid more attention in the shop, actually looked at Peter instead of ignoring him, figuring he was another usual customer. Still, none of his actual memories of Peter had returned. It was unmistakable that he was the missing piece, that much was clear- his memories of May Parker filled with childhood warmth, a presence that had always been by his side- faceless in his memories, but now he knew that it was Peter.

He traced his memories of May Parker from his childhood up until the very end of the line, where another revelation hit him like a sack of bricks.

“Spider-Man.” he ground out, basically shouted, as he clutched his head again. Goddamnit, there was too much for his brain to process at once. But remembering May (though he still didn’t remember Peter, why can’t he remember Peter) made him remember sitting in a dark room, watching the TV with MJ, and seeing the news cover the death of May Parker. The following memories were jumbled, messy, the ghost of the faceless Peter Parker running laps around the corner of his mind, despite how hard he tried to pin them down and remember clearly. He did remember the grief. Being on the roof, the sharp wind biting at his and MJ’s and Peter’s faces. He remembered holding his friends close, feeling the torn and bloodied Spider-Man suit under his fingertips, and feeling the body in his arms wrack with sobs as the last family member he had was torn away from him, in his short and hard 17 years of life.

Yet despite all those memories, all those emotions, he could not remember Peter’s face. MJ’s face was clear as day, painted with sorrow and concern, but not a single memory showed Peter’s face to him. Ned wanted to growl in frustration, because the memories were there. They were all there, and he was remembering them, but they were warped- he could still picture everyone else in the memory, but as much as he tried, he could never remember Peter, just his faceless presence. It scared him that if he weren’t actively seeking out that presence, he may not have noticed him in those memories. Or those memories may not have been triggered at all. It angered him that they were taken from him, because he could remember the love, the love and the grief and the hurt and the worry, all tied up in his chest for the person he had called his best friend- but if he hadn’t seen him in the coffee shop (however brief)- he wouldn’t have even been able to recall his best friend’s face. And it terrified him that all that love could mean nothing. They would have been none the wiser if Peter hadn’t showed up in the coffee shop, if MJ hadn’t drawn them, if they didn’t push to try and remember. Years of friendship, almost gone in a heartbeat.

A quick glance at MJ showed she was feeling the same range of emotions, made all the more complicated by being his girlfriend. Ned remembered that now. If he reached for it, he could remember moments with the three of them- he still couldn’t see Peter’s face, in these memories- no matter how hard he tried- but he could feel his emotions. Radiating with happiness. And he could see MJ’s face, clear as day, pretending to be nonchalant and grumpy but just as dorky and happy as Peter must have been.

“Right. Spider-Man.” MJ breathed out. “Well, I don’t know whether that makes this more or less complicated.” Both of them turned to the computer that had been left open, and sure enough, the results for ‘May Parker’ only confirmed what they had just remembered. Article after article described the fight that had taken place, how May was the only casualty of the fight between Spider-Man and the Green Goblin, and how Happy Hogan had shown up at the scene.

“Happy.” Ned breathed out, yet another familiar face triggering a slew of memories. “Do you think he remembers Peter?” A tinge of hopefulness creeped into his tone, even as he recognized how unrealistic it probably was. Neither of them wanted to think about Peter being alone for months, with no support system, mourning May.

MJ frowned. “I’m trying to remember-” she cut herself off, massaging her temples to stave off a headache. Ned sympathized with her; forcing yourself to remember things that something else is actively trying to block is not a pleasant experience, to say the least. In other words, it creates quite a bit of a headache (and even then, isn’t fully successful, no matter how hard they try).

“Strange.” MJ said suddenly. “Dr. Strange. That’s who we were remembering in the library.”

Ned gaped at her, finally remembering the last pieces to the puzzle they had been trying to put together for weeks, now. The Statue of Liberty. Dr. Strange. The other Spider-Men. Doc Ock. The Green Goblin. The multiverse threatening to break through. The forgetting spell. A whispered promise, to find them.

The images all came together, swirling and slotting into place in the memory gaps, filling his brain with a clarity that hadn’t been there for months.

Yet he still couldn’t remember Peter.

He could feel that it was Peter. And he knew what Peter looked like, from the coffee shop. But he couldn’t remember him. And that was terrifying. But first things first- they had a lead now. They knew what happened. Ned met MJ’s eyes, glimmering and resolute, and he nodded.

“We have to find Dr. Strange.”

~ ~ ~

“Well, shit.”

Happy stared, dumbfounded, at the screen. The words glared at him from the screen, bright and painful and mocking. Peter Parker. They said. Spider-Man. Happy’s eyes trailed downwards, resting on one particular part of the screen. Living relatives: May Parker.

Happy squeezed his eyes shut painfully. There’s no way this was real. It felt like a cruel, twisted joke, one meant to mess with his already foggy and muddled mind. But he knew it wasn’t. The file obviously hadn’t been updated in a while (probably not since Tony’s…), yet Happy knew it was accurate regardless. It was no coincidence his mind reared at the sight of Peter in the graveyard, or how he remembered Spider-Man to be on the younger side, or why Peter was visiting May’s gravestone and said he met her through Spider-Man. Happy realized, now, why the kid’s voice had sounded weird when he said that- it wasn’t a lie, not totally, but it wasn’t the truth either. He blew out a breath. He still couldn’t remember the kid, but he must have been the faint presence he felt in his foggy memories. There was no other explanation for it.

His eyes scanned the file again, catching on May’s name again. It sent a fresh wave of grief through him, present ever since he… ever since he saw Spider-Man next to May’s body (before Happy was cuffed on the roof of his car).

He reared back, the memory only just now hitting him. The kid… the kid had seen her die in front of him. Happy shook his head. He’d watched his only living family member die in front of him, and he hadn’t even been able to bury her body before he had to run (Happy felt a wave of sorrow wash through him at the thought that the kid hadn’t been invited to the funeral- mostly because he hadn’t known there was a kid).

His brow furrowed. Yet, at the funeral, there were two other teenagers, ones that Happy hadn’t questioned being there, too busy with his own grief as he watched May’s casket be lowered into the ground. He hadn’t immediately recognized them at the time, but he hadn’t questioned it, either, feeling like they deserved to be there- for whatever reason. Now, faced with the image of Peter Parker’s face, the memories of his friends slammed back into Happy full force. Michelle Jones and Ned Leeds.

Happy frowned at the onslaught of information, almost too much for his brain to handle all at once. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment where he forgot Peter- the memories cleared shortly after May’s death. Everything before that involving Spider-Man (all the way back to the airport battle at Leipzig) was foggy. He couldn’t recall the kid’s face- only knowing it from the picture still projected in front of him from the Spider-Man file. But he could remember his friends. That was a start. He opened his mouth to ask FRIDAY to pull up their files, too, before he hesitated.

“FRIDAY, do you remember Peter Parker?” he asked. The room was silent for a few moments before the AI responded.

“I do not remember him, no.” she said, robotic voice tinged with confusion. “But if I search my data banks, I have information on him.”

Happy let out a breath. “So we’re dealing with some sort of… forgetting issue, then.” he didn’t get a response from the AI as he tried to think the situation through. What on earth could have caused him to forget all memories of a single person? General memory loss wouldn’t have surprised him, given the amount of hits to the head he’s received over his lifetime, but no normal memory loss would be so targeted and specific, especially when the rest of his memories were so clear. No, someone had messed with his head. He didn’t know who or what or how, but the closest bet he had was the kid. He needed to find Peter Parker and figure out why the hell he didn’t remember him.

His eyes traced the kid’s file once again, settling on May’s name for a final time. His heart clenched as he realized that, with May gone, the kid had nowhere to go. There was no address to follow him to, no knowledge of where he was staying. So the best bet he had was to find the kid’s friends and ask them. Happy shook off the nagging voice in his head that told him that if he didn’t remember, it was likely the kid’s friends or anyone close to him didn’t remember him either. Yet if someone else had erased their memories of Peter, why wouldn’t the kid just come tell them? It’s not like Happy hadn’t dealt with weirder shit, knowing the Avengers for so long.

A quiet, dark voice in the back of his head told him that maybe it was Peter’s doing. That maybe, the kid had done something and didn’t want anyone knowing, so he wiped their memories and ran. That maybe, that’s why May was-

No. He cut off that train of thought, refusing to entertain it. The picture in Spider-Man’s file showed a young teenager smiling goofily at the camera. Something sick and twisted and protective settled in Happy’s gut at the mere thought he could be responsible for a wrongdoing of that magnitude. He didn’t remember, didn’t have any memory to base these feelings off of, but he had to trust that this wasn’t the kid’s fault. He pushed away the thought that he didn’t know what he would do if it was. Instead, he called out to FRIDAY again.

“FRI, find info on Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones. I need to find them. I need to find Peter Parker.”

Chapter Text

“Okay, on three: one, two, thr-” Ned cut himself off as the doors to the Sanctum swung open, his and MJ’s fists still raised in preparation of knocking. They glanced at each other before looking back at the now open door, still frozen in their position. MJ pulled herself out of it first, lowering her fist and carefully stepping over the threshold. Ned did the same, looking around the wide lobby of the Sanctum Sanctorum and feeling a sense of deja vu as he took it all in.

MJ seemed to be doing the same, spinning in a circle slowly to examine everything. Ned glanced around. It looked about the same as it had the last time they were here, with Peter. They hadn’t spent much time in the foyer- instead spending more time down in the creepy dungeon place where their plan to capture the Spider-Man multiverse villains took place. But from what Ned did remember, it looked the same- there was still snow piled in places that it probably shouldn’t be, but most of it had been cleared out and it was certainly warmer than Ned had remembered it being last time.

“You’re here.” a voice echoed loudly in the room and Ned jumped and spun, nearly tripping over his feet and seeing MJ do the same. He reached out to steady her (and himself) as they both looked up at the figure floating down the staircase towards them. Dr. Strange.

The deja vu was a lot more intense now- Ned remembered the man making the exact same entrance the last time they were here. He finally processed the man’s words when MJ spoke.

“You were expecting us?” she asked, as Strange’s feet finally touched down at the base of the staircase. Ned was glad. While seeing Strange float with his cloak was ridiculously cool, it was also unnerving to have someone floating high above you while you were trying to have a rather important conversation with them.

Strange tilted his head. “Eventually, yes.” he said. “Though I must admit, I wasn’t expecting it this soon. I suppose you two are more clever than I first thought.”

Ned really didn’t know whether that was a compliment or an insult, but he didn’t even have time to ask before MJ was continuing.

“We’re here about Peter. Peter Parker.” she said, ignoring Strange’s previously barbed words. Strange nodded, eyebrow raised.

“Yes, I gathered as much.” he said, drily, before turning and walking further into the Sanctum, gesturing for the two of them to follow him. They walked in silence for a few moments, Ned exchanging a glance with MJ behind the sorcerer’s back. It felt a little bit like the wizard was leading them somewhere to execute them for knowledge they shouldn’t have, though Ned hoped that wasn’t the case. He rather valued his life, if he was being honest.

Strange finally made a right turn into a big, normal-looking, well-lit room. Ned sighed a bit with relief. So he wasn’t going to execute them, then. Good. Well, he could execute them in here, Ned supposed, but given that there were plenty of creepy dark dungeons at his disposal, he figured if Strange actually wanted to murder them he’d go all the way and do it in one of those.

Ned was cut off from his thoughts, once again, as Strange finally turned to face them again. “Relax.” the man said. “I’m not gonna kill you or anything.”

Ned’s brain went haywire. That is exactly what someone trying to kill them would say! Plus, how did he know Ned had been thinking that? Was he a mind reader? Was he reading Ned’s mind right now? Ned squinted at the man, who seemed to be looking at him with something akin to amusement. Ned tried to school his face into a poker expression, but given the look Strange was giving him, he didn’t think he was very successful in that endeavor.

“And no, I didn’t read your mind, kid, it’s written all over your face.” Strange said, rolling his eyes before waving his hands. Two chairs popped into existence behind Ned and MJ, and another one behind Strange himself. Ned gaped at the plush chair that awaited him, mind temporarily distracted from the murder-mind-reading-execution thoughts as he let out a breathy mutter.

“That is so cool.” Ned whispered to himself. He heard someone snort, though whether it was MJ or Dr. Strange, he wasn’t sure. Regardless, he saw Dr. Strange sit down in his own chair, gesturing for the two of them to do the same, so he sat down, feeling himself sink into the soft cushion. He wondered if he could get Dr. Strange to let him take this chair home with him. The man could probably magic more into existence whenever he wanted, and these were ridiculously comfortable. Once again his train of thought was interrupted by someone speaking, and he was once again reminded of the reason they were really here.

“So, how much have you figured out about Peter?” Strange asked, elbows on his armrests and fingers steepled together in front of him. Right. Peter. No more thinking about the comfy chair. Peter was his top priority right now. Ned amended his mental list. Get Peter back first. Then ask Strange for the comfy chair.

MJ spared him the embarrassment of even attempting to talk at the moment as she started speaking. “Ned and I realized we had gaps in our memories, recently. We didn’t say anything to each other at first- I knew I didn’t want to worry him, not until I figured out what was happening or if I should be concerned.”

Ned made an offended sound in the back of his throat at that- what was it with his best friends and trying to keep grievous injuries from him? Okay, granted, MJ’s hadn’t turned out to be a grievous injury, but it could have been. MJ continued, ignoring his offended grumble. “We talked and came to the conclusion that something fishy was happening with both of our memories. We didn’t know how to continue from there at first, since we had nothing at all to go off of, just random snippets and feelings and a whole lot of brain fog.” she stopped to take a breath, and Strange nodded at her.

“Sounds about right.” he said. “I noticed the brain fog, too. Continue.”

“We didn’t talk about it again for a while after that, since we had no leads. Then, we were at Ned’s place, cleaning out his closet. Winter break cleaning, donations, college cleaning, all that stuff.” she said. “We found a folder with all of his schoolwork in it from sophomore year, and we were curious, so we went through it. At the back, we found a drawing. By me. Of Ned and Peter.” she paused, hands hesitantly going to her bag. “That was just one sketch- I went back home and looked through my old sketchbooks later, and sure enough, Peter showed up again.” Ned’s eyes went to MJ’s hands as she pulled her sketchbook out of her bag delicately, flipping it to a page. His eyes widened at the drawing of Peter there- he hadn’t known MJ had gone to look at old sketchbooks, but here was more evidence. Evidence of Peter’s existence and his importance in their life.

Strange stared at the sketchbook MJ had open on display, eyes sweeping over the pencil lines. “Interesting.” he said. “And that caused you to… remember him?”

MJ shook her head. “No. At that point, we’d only ever met Peter by face twice, in the coffee shop where I work. He was acting strange, but he didn’t really end up saying much. When we saw the sketch, Ned said something, I don’t remember what exactly, but he was speculating. About how we must have known him, and his relatives. Everything we must have known. How he must have gone to Midtown, given all my drawings take place there.” she gestured to the book. “Him mentioning relatives made me think about May Parker. And, well… we figured out whatever happened to our brains was only designed to affect our memories of Peter, so we remembered May just fine. We remembered everything. Her… final days. That triggered other memories, of the days that followed. Spider-Man. The Statue of Liberty. You. The forgetting spell.” she let out a breath, and to anyone who didn’t know her, it would have sounded steady. But Ned could hear the slight tremor, the undercurrent of nervousness at presenting everything they had figured out to the Sorcerer. He hadn’t said anything else yet, merely watching them with dark glimmering eyes. Ned could feel his chest tighten as he and MJ waited with bated breath. He half expected the wizard to tell them that they were out of their minds and crazy. That they’d spun this crazy story in response to a few gaps in their memories. The brain does do some weird shit in the face of trauma, after all.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, Strange nodded, and Ned let out his breath, MJ doing the same next to him. “You’re correct.” he said. “From what I’ve gathered, at least.” he separated his hands from where his fingers had been intertwined, and he drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “Like you all, I was frustrated by the gaps in my memories, and the brain fog.” Strange started to explain. “My whole life, my memory has been one of my greatest assets- in med school and in learning to be the Sorcerer Supreme.” Ned sometimes forgot the man had been an actual doctor before this- his gaze flickered almost involuntarily to the man’s hands before he snapped his gaze back up to Strange’s face. If the man noticed his slip-up, he didn’t comment on it, only continuing his story. “So, naturally, when my memory started being unreliable, I knew something was up. I searched my mind for the cause, any potential pattern of forgetfulness, and noted that the brain fog was only present around memories of Spider-Man; more specifically, when he was unmasked. I couldn’t remember his face, though when he was masked, I had no trouble remembering Spider-Man himself. So, I figured it had something to do with the kid’s identity.”

Ned found himself nodding, as Strange had done when MJ told their side of the story. It was no secret that Spider-Man had fought Thanos on Titan before the Blip, so Strange would have had plenty of interactions with masked and unmasked Spider-Man to come to that conclusion. Strange continued. “Unlike you all, I had the benefit of recognizing the signs of a potential forgetting spell. The Runes of Kauf-Kaul. But, from what little I did remember of Spider-Man and the kid, I know he’s not the type to sit back and just take something like that, unless there was a specific reason he was staying away. I approached him while he was out on patrol, and he essentially confirmed all of what we all individually put together.”

Ned felt MJ perk up beside him at the mention that Strange had talked to Peter. Ned hesitated, starting to speak for the first time since they’d come into the room.

“Is he okay?” Ned asked, Strange’s eyes flickering to him. “Since the forgetting spell… I mean, we figured out it didn’t affect physical documents and such so I’m sure he could get by, but… do you know if he had anyone to talk to? At all? For the last few months?” There was a guilt swirling in his chest at the thought that Peter had been all alone, with nobody to talk to, since the spell.

The dark look that crossed over Strange’s face quenched any hope Ned had for his old friend. “Physically, he was fine.” Strange started, and both Ned and MJ winced at the implications. “Emotionally… well, I certainly didn’t have a talk therapy session with him, if that’s what you’re asking. He explained everything that had led up to this point, and I asked him if he’d told you all yet. He gave a predictably noble hero speech about how he couldn’t come in and mess up your all’s lives and put you in danger if there was a way to keep you all safe.” he explained.

MJ sighed, squeezing her eyes shut and blowing out a frustrated breath. “Goddamnit, Parker.” Ned agreed with her sentiment wholeheartedly, and it appeared Strange did too, because he let out a snort.

“Yes, the only reason he was even comfortable telling me was because I’m already a superhero or something of that variety, so it’s not like I wasn’t already in danger. I let him know that by that reasoning, he would never allow himself to get close to anyone ever again, and that wouldn’t be sustainable for the long run, because humans need personal interaction to be emotionally healthy. I thought I’d broken through to him, but” his gaze swept over Ned and MJ “I take it he did not act on my advice.”

Ned shook his head mutely, while MJ let out another frustrated sigh. “No, he did not.” she grumbled, scuffing at the ground with the toe of her converse. She brought her gaze back up to Strange, who was watching her with a guarded expression. “Did you tell him anything else?”

Strange shrugged. “I told him a basic overview of how the Runes work- I wasn’t sure, then, how it would work on a larger scale, but I think I’ve figured it out more now.” he explained. Ned couldn’t help but think that the man was hiding something else about his interaction with Peter from them, but he wasn’t about to ask, and MJ was already asking Strange a question before Ned would have been able to open his mouth anyways.

“So how do they work? Ned and I have a rough idea, obviously, but I’d like to hear it in more detail from the source. Y’know, to know what we’re getting ourselves into.” she said. Ned gave her a sidelong glance, wishing he had her brazen confidence. He’s not sure he would have been able to just ask Strange something like that, if he’d been on his own. In fact, he’s 99% sure he wouldn’t have made it this far on his own were it not for MJ’s presence. Strange regarded his friend with something like appraisal, and Ned felt a swell of pride in his chest for MJ. She was always good at that- at speaking, getting people to respect her. She continued. “First, is there any way to reverse it? Not on a large scale, obviously, that would leave all the problems we had at the start. But just with Ned and I?”

Ned had to admit he hadn’t even thought of that. He’d obviously realized it was more complicated than a simple reverse button, but he hadn’t really thought of the ramifications of complete reversal. He’d rather have foggy memories than make Peter go through a public identity reveal again. Before he could even follow that train of thought, though, Dr. Strange shook his head. “There’s no way to reverse it. In any capacity, big or small. The timeline was already put under too much stress from the first botched spell- any attempt to reverse it could cause our reality to shatter and other multiversal beings to come seek out Peter.”

Okay, so that was a hard no on reversing the spell. Ned did not want to deal with reality shattering multiversal beings, no thank you.

“So we’ll have to fight for each and every memory of Peter?” MJ pressed, and Ned’s stomach swooped at that thought.

Strange hesitated, face flickering. “Yes, essentially. Even though you’ve figured the spell out and you know logically that it must have been him in those memories you’re forcing to the surface, you’ll never truly be able to remember that it was him in those memories. The spell won’t allow it. You’ll recognize someone else was there, and because you know what the spell did, you’ll be able to puzzle out who it was, by deduction and logical reasoning. But your true ability to recall past memories is blocked, as the spell is still in place and will remain in place. And that method would only work for memories with other people in them, because it’s really them that your brain is remembering, as the spell made you forget Peter Parker, not anyone associated with him. Any one on one interactions, I reckon, will never resurface.”

“So we’re just doomed to keep forgetting Peter?” MJ demanded, anger and fear battling in her eyes. “We get him back and know there are gaps in our memories, but we’ll never be able to remember him?”

Ned felt a mix of anger and fear at that question, even before Strange could give his answer. He hoped with everything he had that that wasn’t the case, because being doomed to forget someone over and over was almost worse than losing them altogether.

But Strange gave them a small smile, assuaging Ned’s immediate fears. “No, that’s where I can give you some good news. The point at which the spell was cast was the marking point. Any new memories you form are past the point of the spell’s casting and will be normal memories. I mean, think about it, you remembered him from the coffee shop meeting you described just fine.”

Tension seemed to hover in the room, uncertainty still clasping them in its tight claws. But it was true, wasn’t it? Ned pondered. The first real, clear memory he has of Peter’s face is in the coffee shop. All the other memories he can brain-photoshop his face in, but it isn’t the same. Cloudiness pervades those memories, and consistency escapes them. It’s only after the point in the coffee shop does Peter’s face become crystal clear in his mind, set in every slight movement in his face, and Ned was hit with a pang that he ever could have forgotten that in the first place. Seeing him was like deja-vu, in the best way, because now he knew why.

MJ broke the silence, now speaking softly- a sharp contrast to her hard voice earlier. Ned knew her well enough to know that she was battling back hope, at least until she was absolutely certain it was worth the risk of disappointment to hope. “So what you’re saying is that old memories are scrapped- without a lot of effort to try and paste Peter back into them, that is- but new ones can be created just fine?”

Strange nodded, and it was like the tension was cut, leaving the room all at once. Ned slumped in his seat like a puppet with its strings cut, and let out a sigh of relief. It would be okay. They’d find Peter, and while it would suck to lose some of their shared memories, Ned would take having Peter back over having all his memories in a heartbeat. Besides, they’d have plenty of time to form new, better memories. Ned raised his chin from his chest and shared a meaningful look with MJ, before speaking to Strange.

“We don’t know where to find him, but we need to talk to him. Can you take us to him?” Ned implored Strange. He knew, realistically, that they’d probably be able to come across Spider-Man on their own, with enough time, but he was buzzing with barely restrained energy and he felt like he would spontaneously combust if they had to spend any meaningful amount of time searching for Peter.

Strange sighed, running a hand down his face. “While the sling ring technically will take you to people if you ask it to, sometimes it’s not entirely reliable. But I will try.” Ned remembered practicing with the sling ring with MJ at his grandmother’s house, saying ‘find Peter Parker’- and then summoning the other versions of Peter instead of their own. He shook off that memory as Strange stood up from his chair, and Ned and MJ quickly followed suit. They winced as the sound of joints cracking filled the room-they must have been sitting in the same spot for a bit too long. Ned watched as Strange flexed his fingers and arms briefly before closing his eyes and muttering something, arm stretched out in front of him. MJ came over to Ned’s side, gripping his shoulder tightly, as they stared at the orange sparks emitting from the space in front of the wizard.

“We’re going to get him back, Ned.” MJ murmured, hand tightening on his shoulder, and he put her hand on hers and squeezed it.

“Damn right we are.” he whispered right back. They didn’t have time to say anything else before a portal was forming, right into…

A cemetery.

The same cemetery May Parker (and the previous Parkers) had been buried in.

MJ said nothing but stepped through the portal, Ned following. A slight distance ahead, a lone figure stood, head bowed and hands tucked into the pockets of a winter coat. A beanie sat on the person’s head, disguising their hair and making them generally unidentifiable, but Ned immediately knew that it was Peter.

He froze in place, brain screeching to a halt. A mere 300 feet separated him and his old best friend- this was closer than they’d been in months, the closest they’d been since they figured it out. He was suddenly at a loss for words, no idea what to do or say. How much had Peter changed in his time alone? What if he didn’t want to see them? MJ seemed to be having the same misgivings, because she was frozen in place as well, eyes blown wide at the sight of Peter. From the tense set of Peter’s posture and the hunch in his back, Ned knew that Peter knew they were there. Yet nobody moved or said anything for a few long, excruciating moments.

Then he heard a crunching sound behind him, and if he weren’t frozen in place, he would have turned around to see who it was. Turns out he didn’t need to, because Dr. Strange stepped past him and MJ, walking further towards Peter, boots crunching in the previously undisturbed graveyard snow. He stood, midway between them, and spoke.

“Peter.”

~ ~ ~

Peter doesn’t dare turn around and look at the people behind him. His spider-sense had been buzzing with warning- not in the sense that danger was incoming, just in the sense that something big was going to happen. He looked down at the grave- May’s grave- in front of him, squeezing his eyes shut. He had heard the sparks of the portal behind him, had heard people step through. He knew who they were. His body buzzed at him, being so close again after all this time. Yet he kept his eyes fixed on the grave in front of him, knowing if he turned around his resolution would crumble.

“Dr. Strange.” he said, back still turned to the man and… them.

The man said nothing for a few seconds, and Peter was beginning to think he was hallucinating the whole thing. Hallucinating them. He still didn’t dare turn around, afraid that if he was wrong, if he let himself hope, he would crumble all over again. He’s not sure he’d be able to get back up after that.

But then Strange spoke. “So, have you made up your mind yet?” Peter felt a flash second of confusion, before remembering their conversation on the rooftop. Strange’s reminder that he had two options: telling them everything, or staying out of it and letting them live their lives without him in it. The man’s argument that he couldn’t stay away from everyone forever. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

“No.” he rasped out, knowing damn well who was behind him now. He thought he heard a small chuckle, before Strange was speaking again.

“Well… it might be a little too late for you to decide now. I think they’ve made the decision for you.” something like amusement colored his voice, and Peter could hear his receding footsteps, and the telltale sound of a portal opening. Then Strange was gone, and it was just… them.

Peter turned slowly, carefully, like any sudden movement would shatter this reality. His heart was in his throat, his ears, everywhere- his whole body thrumming with anxiety, the sound of blood rushing in his ears. And then he was facing them.

It was quiet. Completely, utterly, quiet for all of two seconds before Ned broke himself out of his stupor and rushed towards him, snow crunching.

“Peter.” his best friend breathed out, reaching for him in a hug, and Peter lost it, collapsing into the warm and blessedly familiar embrace. Before he knew it he was sobbing- full body, desperate cries as he reveled in the feeling of being held by someone for the first time in what felt like decades. He distantly recognized another pair of arms wrapping around him, hit in the face by the smell of MJ’s perfume. The one he got her, the one she always wears. It only makes him cry harder. He heard them murmuring to him- whispered reassurances.

“Let it out, Peter, we’ve got you.”

~ ~ ~

After what felt like an eternity, the tears finally slowed enough for Peter to sit back up and look them in the eyes. His face was flushed- from the crying, the cold, or the embarrassment, Peter wasn’t sure. He quickly mopped his eyes and gave them a sheepish smile.

“Sorry.” he said, voice rough at the edges. “For the record, my first meeting with you guys went a lot smoother when I imagined it in my head. A lot more talking, a lot less desperate crying.”

MJ snorted and swatted him softly on the arm. “Dork.” Peter felt his entire being light up at that- god, he’d missed them. So much. He looked between them, barely registering the cold snow seeping into his pants as MJ spoke.

“I told you I’d figure it out.” she said softly, and Peter couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter, even as Ned swatted at both of them.

“Hey, it wasn’t just you, I helped too.” his best friend grumbled. Peter looked between them both, hardly believing that they were here, that they weren’t looking at him with a blank, unrecognizing stare.

He tilted his head, remembering his conversation with Strange on the roof- how the man hadn’t actually remembered him but had moreso… deduced it was him. “Do you…” he hesitated, not sure how to word the question. Obviously they remembered some amount of him, them being there the biggest indicator of that, but he didn’t see how they could really remember him. “How much do you remember?” he settled on, watching his friends exchange glances.

“How much did Strange tell you?” MJ asked, looking back at him.

“He said he didn’t really remember it was me, within his memory, but that he could almost copy and paste my being into the gaps in his memory and… backfill me.” Peter said. He still didn’t entirely understand the process, or the way people forgot him but didn’t entirely forget him, but MJ was nodding before he could elaborate on that.

“That’s… basically what happened with us.” she said, exchanging a glance with Ned. “We had brain fog, the whole shebang, as I’m sure Strange told you.” at Peter’s nod, she continued. “We kind of pushed it off- it’s not that we ignored it, really, but we had no leads to follow. So we postponed it. Then… we found a drawing of you, by me, in one of Ned’s old folders, and, well…” her face twisted. “We realized something was seriously off if I had drawings of you from sophomore year, supposedly two years before I would have seen your face at my coffee shop.”

Peter flushed at the reminder of that memory, of how awkward he was. Man, out of all the things for them to forget, they had to remember that? Forgetting spells suck. But MJ was still talking.

“From that, we kind of just… were hit with a flood of memories. Of other people associated with you, I guess. May, Spider-Man, and eventually Dr. Strange. We went to the Sanctum, like we remembered, and… well… long story short, here we are.”

Peter let out a breath through his nose, looking between his friends’ faces and soaking it all in. He opened his mouth to say something- he wasn’t really sure what, to be honest- whether it be an apology, or a ramble, or just incoherent babbling. But before he could say anything, the snow crunched with the arrival of someone else, and a surprised, quiet voice spoke tentatively.

“Peter?”

The three of them turned to see Happy Hogan standing in the cemetery, holding a bouquet of flowers, mouth half open in shock.

~ ~ ~

They fill him in on the short version of the story- which still takes over an hour. Happy barely spoke, instead fiddling with the flowers he’d brought to lay on May’s grave. When they were done, Peter turned to Happy and hesitantly opened his mouth.

“How did you… know my name?”

Happy gave a small half-smile. “I remembered you from the first time we met here.” he gestured at May’s grave. “Realized something was up, though. My memories were acting up, especially around memories of Spider-Man, and I realized that, given that you had the Stark suit, FRIDAY would have records of you. Spider-Man. And in the file… it listed May. As a relative. And then I remembered her funeral, and Ned and MJ, and I connected it back to you. Didn’t know where to find you, but… a hunch told me to check here first.” he gestured limply at the flowers. “Figured I’d bring something, though, in case you weren’t here and I made a visit out of it.”

Peter stared at the flowers quietly, brain whirring with the overload of information. He was half convinced that this was all a dream, or another manifestation of Beck’s illusions, or that he was finally losing it after so much time being alone. After all this time, he was almost too afraid to hope, lest it be ripped out from under his feet again. He didn’t think he could survive that a second time.

Happy, bless his soul, always seemed to know when Peter needed a distraction to get out of his head. “So what, exactly, happened? I remember snippets, and you running around with the wizard guy Tony always griped about stealing his goatee look. But why exactly does my memory of you feel like it’s been put through a high speed blender and then locked in an icebox?”

Peter snorted softly, then looked in between his friends, and back at Happy. “You weren’t there, at the Statue of Liberty fight, and I didn’t have time to tell you everything as it was happening, other than the last time you saw me when May-” he cut himself off, that particular memory weighing heavily on everyone’s minds. He shook his head to try and reroute his thoughts from spiraling. “But all the… villains. People. Whatever we’re gonna call them. From the multiverse. The other Spider-Men and I managed to reverse their death event or whatever- what we were trying to do in the first place before…” he trailed off. “You remember that, right?” Happy nodded, and Peter breathed a slight sigh of relief. Guess there were enough people in that memory other than Peter Parker that it wasn’t as hard to recall, especially given how close it was tied to the memory of May. He shook his head to halt his thoughts once again.

“Anyways, we succeeded in stopping their deaths and sending them- and the other Spider-Men- back to their universes.” he paused, hesitating. “But by that point, the multiverse was unstable, and there was a rift, where everyone who ever knew Peter Parker was trying to break through to our universe. So there was only one solution.” he breathed out roughly through his nose. “Make everyone forget Peter Parker. They weren’t there for Spider-Man. They were there for Peter Parker. So the original spell- to make everyone forget Peter Parker was Spider-Man- wouldn’t have been effective. If Peter Parker was still around, multiversal beings would try and force their way into our universe. So I told Strange to erase the memory of Peter Parker, from everyone.” he laughed bitterly, the sound echoing emptily against the headstones in the cemetery. He dropped his chin to his chest, feeling the weight of his friends’ and Happy’s stares on him. “I should have just taken the original spell deal.” he said quietly, miserably, the reality of it hitting him once again.

He felt MJ’s hand cover his own. “But you didn’t.” she said matter-of-factly. “And yes, that had unforeseen consequences that sucked, but you can’t do anything about that now, and continuing to tear yourself up over a mistake that can’t be reversed is pointless.” her face softened. “I know the last few months must have been rough, but we’re here now.” she gripped his hand tighter. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Peter silently gripped her hand back and Ned nodded. “Thank you guys.” he said quietly, a swell of feeling rising in his chest and threatening to overwhelm him. It was the feeling of hope- something he hadn’t felt in a long while, certainly not to this extent. They sat in a blissful, peaceful quiet for a few moments before Happy spoke, for the first time since Peter’s explanation.

“Ah.” he made a sound of recognition. “That’s why FRI’s been acting off.” he said it like it finally made sense. Peter tilted his head in question, seeing his friends do the same in his peripheral vision. Happy saw and started to explain.

“I talked to Pepper- while I was asking for access to the Spider-Man files, trying to find the connection to you- and she said FRIDAY had been acting up, saying she had memory issues but only when she was acting like a consciousness. If you asked her a straight up fact, though, she would immediately recall it from her databanks with no issue. I thought it was weird, but Pepper didn’t seem to think much of it, saying FRI would be able to self fix the issue. Now with the background of the forgetting spell, it makes more sense, though. Strange set the spell to make everyone forget Peter Parker, right? So all people forgot you, but all physical aspects like legal documents remained intact. My guess is that FRI is right on the border of that- being a computer, she has records, but she also has a consciousness, being an AI. So she can recall facts just fine but when she’s acting more… human-like, she has issues recalling the entire big picture.”

“Fascinating.” Ned breathed out, eyes wide with wonder. Peter said nothing, mouth tugging up at the corners at the fascination of his best friend. “That’s so interesting. It shows that AIs really do have some level of consciousness, despite what some people argue, at least to the extent that a spell somewhat recognizes that level. Even though it’s technically just a bunch of coding, like humans are a bunch of cells and neurons-” he cut himself off when he realized he was starting to ramble, cheeks flushing a light pink. “Sorry. It’s just interesting.” he said sheepishly.

Peter shook his head fondly at his oldest friend, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t apologize, I missed your rambles.” he said. Ned peered back at him, putting a hand over his own.

“Me too, man.” he said softly. “It’s been quiet without you.”

The silence returned again, still comfortable, but crackling with the energy of unasked questions and answers- none of them willing to shatter the environment they’d put themselves in. One wrong question and it could all crack and come tumbling down.

MJ was the first to ask, unable to sit in the uncertainty any longer. “So what have you been doing the past few months? If May was gone, and everyone you know forgot you… where did you stay?”

Everyone winced a little at the blunt mention of May, but they knew it wasn’t a topic they could tiptoe around easily. It was just a fact and it was intertwined so closely with the forgetting spell and Peter’s life thus far, it was impossible not to mention.

The question itself, though, caused the tension to weigh even heavier in the air. All of them had wondered as much, ever since hearing about the spell and its ramifications, but none of them wanted to address it, for fear of the answer.

Peter sighed slightly, head tilted as he looked at the people he loved. He wasn’t the same Peter they knew, not anymore. That Peter- though he had experienced loss before, far too many times in his short 17 years of life- still clung to a sense of naivety and lightheartedness. That Peter was gone, now- he had to be, when everyone he loved forgot him and he was all alone. Before, he’d always had people in his life to lean on, to share the grief and loss with. After, he was completely on his own, and he’d had to work it out for himself while becoming, essentially, an adult all in one night. He couldn’t afford naivety, not like he used to be able to, and it was evident in his disposition and the way he carried himself now, that he’d changed. He remained quiet, for a few moments, gathering his thoughts to respond.

“I got myself my own apartment.” Peter finally started, quietly, hands pushed into his pockets as he stared past his friends to the snow-covered headstones of the cemetery ahead of them. “Took May’s sewing machine, bought some fabric, and stitched myself a new suit. Better than my last attempt, at least.” he said with a soft chuckle. He paused again. “Sold some Spider-Man pictures for some extra income, did a few jobs here and there, got my legal documents together. Took some time to go through everything, but I finally got through it all, got into May’s accounts. Found that Tony added money to my college funds.” he said the last part softly, almost reverently, as if he still couldn’t believe he was worthy of such gifts. Happy gave a soft snort in response.

“Yeah, he was fond of doing that.” Fond of giving money to those he cared about. Remained unspoken. Peter continued.

“I wasn’t expecting any of… this. You guys coming after me. Getting you all back. I mean, I had a bit of hope after I saw Strange, but…” he trailed off. “I couldn’t just do that to you guys. Put you all in danger. Strange said I couldn’t be alone forever but I couldn’t just force myself into your all’s lives and make you deal with me out of some form of misguided responsibility.”

The three of them stared blankly at Peter. Happy pinched his brow. “So let me get this straight, kid. You’ve been completely alone for months because you were told explicitly that we wanted to remember you, but you took it upon yourself to have a savior complex and not tell us?”

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but MJ spoke, for the first time in a while. “That’s the issue, isn’t it?” she asked. Peter’s mouth snapped shut. “A constant in humanity. Selfishness.” she raised her hand to cut Peter off. “Obviously coming from a different purpose and in a different way, meant to be protective rather than harmful, but still a lie. Maybe it’s a side effect of being a vigilante, or superhero. Deciding you know better than anyone else, the instinct to resort to self sacrifice, even at the cost of other peoples’ free will and choices. We told you that we wanted to know, and you didn’t respect that choice. I know why you did it, but you still took that choice from us. Don’t you dare ever do that again.” she said, turning to him, a fire and passion glowing in her eyes. She was mad, Peter knew as much. And, well, she was right. He did deserve that. It wasn’t unreasonable. She was right to be mad, in the same way he was right to try and protect them. They both had valid points, different priorities, but explainable and predictable by their own personalities and characters. MJ would always fight for her own free will and choice above all else, and Peter would always fight for the safety of those he loved above all else. And in this particular case, they clashed in the middle, an impossible situation.

Peter nodded in understanding. MJ softened and pulled him into a tight hug. “I just missed you, idiot.” she murmured into his shoulder, and he tightened his arms around her, looking at Ned and Happy watching them over her shoulder.

“Do you have my lego man?” Ned asked abruptly. Peter looked at him in surprise, pulling away from MJ slightly. “Sorry, I should get my priorities straight, I know. But I was just thinking of what started this all in the first place, and one of the first things I noticed missing was my lego man, along with my memories. And I just thought of it.”

Peter smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I have it, it’s on my desk. You can have it back if you want.” Ned waved him off.

“Nah, man, you can keep it.” he paused, eyes twinkling mischievously in a way they hadn’t in months. “If you promise to come over and build some legos with me. It’s so lame building them on my own.”

Peter smiled softly back in response, a twinkle in his own eye. “I’d be honored.” he held out his hand and Ned immediately responded, carrying out their handshake easily, as if the last time they’d done it was yesterday rather than months prior.

Happy was watching them, now, giving a small smile. He was never one to really show his outward joy, but his expression and posture was soft and relaxed, and Peter recognized it as the joy it was. He turned to MJ once again, who was giving him a peculiar look. He stared right back at her, evidently confused. The handshake seemed to have sparked something in her, and she was waiting for him to see it too. Needless to say, he was not catching on.

“Do you remember?” she asked. Peter tilted his head, confused. Of course he remembered, he remembered everything and they didn’t, that was why they were in this whole shitshow in the first place. MJ simply stared at him as the confusion ran rampant across his expression- the question was admittedly cryptic, but she was nothing if not known for her mysteriousness in certain situations and blunt seriousness in others. A few moments passed and Peter was clearly floundering and no closer to the answer than he was prior, so she decided to put him out of his misery and give him a hint. She moved slightly closer.

“At the Statue of Liberty, I told you-” MJ started, watching as recognition finally flashed across Peter’s face. “If you remember, if you still mean it, I said to tell me-” she fumbled over her words, unable to finish and deliver the final words for one of the first times in her life. Peter’s whole face softened and he pulled her closer, distantly aware that Ned and Happy were still present but determined to at least keep this one promise, to not break his word or go back on it.

“I love you.” he whispered into the chilly air in front of her face, breath fogging up the space between them and warming her now-frozen nose. He pressed his forehead to hers, in the same way they’d done months ago- not a goodbye this time, but a hello. “I haven’t stopped loving you.” he said, even quieter than before- a confession of sorts. MJ let out a breathy laugh, her own breath contributing to the fog between them now.

“I love you too, dork.” she whispered back, face cracking into a small smile as warm tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, a reprieve against the cold wind that had been blasting against them this whole time. Peter pulled her in and she responded right away, mouth meeting his in the middle in a long-overdue kiss. It was nothing like at the Statue of Liberty- both of their lips were chapped with the cold, faces numb from being outside for so long. It was desperate, but not in a fearful final way, as it had been previously, but a hopeful, promising way. Distantly, MJ realized that Peter’s hands were ridiculously cold against her face and neck, but her chest was filled with such warm happiness that she barely responded to the chill.

They finally pulled apart after what both felt too long yet too short, panting slightly from breathlessness. MJ punched his arm softly. “Dork.” she said gently. Peter’s eyes crinkled in the corners, but once again, before he could respond, he got cut off by Ned.

“You guys are as gross as I remembered.” he said, wrinkling his nose in mock disgust, causing the couple to snort. MJ looked over at Ned, who was peering at the two with his arms crossed, half turned away from them to try and give them some privacy. She felt a swell of fondness for her friend- though they had only gotten close due to the loss of Peter, she didn’t regret becoming his friend. He was one of the most supportive people she’d ever met, and she was ecstatic she got both Ned and Peter, now.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the crunching of snow as Happy moved closer to the three of them- having moved away towards May’s gravestone while Peter and MJ were catching up. His gaze swept over them, and it came to MJ’s attention that she was shivering. They all were. Happy beckoned for them to stand.

“C’mon, we’re all freezing out here, you all can come back to my apartment to warm up and sleep over, if you want.” he said. MJ and Ned were already clambering to their feet at the mention of getting inside and out of the snow, but Peter stayed frozen to his spot, eyes wide at the mention of going into Happy’s apartment. His mind flashed back to the last time he’d been there- fighting, pain, May’s death, utterly wrecking Happy’s place. He winced at the thought of that happening again, at putting people at risk by being anywhere near them.

Happy noticed his inner turmoil and- bless his soul- understood immediately. His eyes flicked to May’s gravestone before softening, coming to crouch near Peter. Even after months of not seeing Peter or remembering him, he still could read the kid like an open book.

“My knees are too old to be doing this.” he grumbled, before tapping the teenager’s shoulder. “Hey, kid. I know what you’re thinking. This isn’t going to be like last time, okay? There’s no Spider-Man responsibilities. This is just for Peter Parker.”

Peter’s eyes raised to meet Happy’s, a glassy sheen covering them. “Last time I did that, people got hurt. I can’t… I can’t lose anyone again. Not because of me.”

Happy shook his head, clasping a hand on Peter’s shoulder reassuringly. “Kid, you’ve already made the ultimate sacrifice. You’ve been on your own for months, letting everyone forget Peter Parker. Nobody knows about you but us, nobody is coming after you, and you don’t have any responsibilities while you’re there. This is just for Peter. You don’t have to hide anymore, kid. It’ll be alright.”

Peter nodded shakily, not entirely convinced but knowing from the looks on his friends’ and Happy’s faces that he wouldn’t get out of this by arguing. He stood, taking Happy’s hand to help him up while he grumbled about his old knees once again.

“Thank you, Happy.” he murmured, and received another reassuring shoulder clasp for his words.

“Don’t mention it, kid.” Happy said easily. He clapped his hands together and rubbed them for some warmth. “Well, unfortunately the wizard is not here to portal us all to my place like he portaled you guys here, but luckily for us, I got here the old-fashioned way.” he started walking towards the gates of the cemetery as Peter, Ned, and MJ hurried to catch up on stiff and frozen legs. He led them to the parking lot, where a black car was waiting for them. Peter caught a glimpse of the license plate and gave a wistful smile. Happy noticed, glancing back at him as he fiddled with the keys with numb fingers.

“Yeah, it’s one of Tony’s.” he said. “The license plate screaming ‘STARK’ in bold letters is not exactly the most nondescript vehicle, but I didn’t have the heart to change it. He had quite the ridiculous car collection, so most people who knew him got a car of their choice.” he paused, turning to look back at Peter as he finally got the car unlocked. “Y’know, he probably left you one, too, for once you get your license.” he opened the front door as Peter choked in surprise.

“He what now?” Peter asked quietly. Happy gave him a look as the teenagers all climbed into the backseat.

“Kid, you were definitely in his will. I know for sure he left you stuff, because I remember how much he cared for you- well, in the memories I have of Spider-Man, of course- but just because I can’t remember what he left doesn’t mean he didn’t leave stuff.”

Peter was quiet for a few moments as the car pulled out of the parking lot. “He left me the EDITH glasses.” he murmured. “I thought that was more than enough. Besides,” he said, ducking his head “I messed up enough with those and Beck, I shouldn’t take more than that.”

Happy shook his head. “Kid, I don’t remember much of Beck, but I do remember he was a conniving son of a bitch-” ‘Language’ Peter murmured, with a half smile. Happy completely ignored him. “-who took advantage of a grieving teenager on a school trip. It does not measure your worthiness of whatever Tony left you, and I know for sure he left you more than just some lousy glasses and some college tuition. I’ll just ask FRI when we get back to the apartment.”

Peter was quiet, unable to wrap his head around the magnitude of that statement. He knew Mr. Stark cared, had heard about the time travel story from Pepper months ago, but they’d never personally addressed it- not more than the fiercely protective hug the man had given him on the battlefield. Tears pricked his eyes at the memory of Mr. Stark dying shortly after that, and never being able to address the relationship between the two. He hadn’t thought specifically of Mr. Stark, recently- he’d lost so much between May and everyone forgetting him that the pain of loss was a constant, everyday thing. But now, with time to really think about that specific loss, his heart clenched at all the memories, and how he’d lost something he hadn’t really known existed till after it was gone.

They were all quiet on the ride back to Happy’s place, each caught up in their own thoughts and processing everything that had happened in the past couple of hours.

By the time they pulled into Happy’s garage area, Peter was well and truly tired. Today was all he’d wanted for months, now (within the bounds of realism, of course, there were many more people he wanted but couldn’t have), and now that it was all fulfilled in one day it had sapped all his energy. His friends seemed to share his sentiments, and they trudged into the building tiredly with Happy, piling into the elevator and riding up to his floor in silence. All of them were too exhausted to carry on any more conversation. Peter could feel his appendages tingling as they finally regained feeling after being out in the cold for so long (a warmth that was never truly felt in his poorly heated apartment). The elevator opened and Happy trudged out first to lead them to his own door, unlocking it and holding it open for them. Peter was hit in the face with the familiarity of Happy’s apartment- it wasn’t the exact same as last time (given that it got almost completely destroyed) but the smell and comfort was all the same. His heart twisted in his chest as it reminded him of May, but he pushed that thought away, kicking off his shoes on the mat and peeling off his layers of wet clothing as his friends did the same. Happy brought out extra pairs of sweaters and sweatpants for them to change into (as by now they’d spent a good amount of time getting soaked by the cold snow), and they took it from him gratefully.

Happy gave Peter a look of consideration before disappearing into his room for a few moments. He came back out carrying a box, setting it on a table before beckoning Peter over. He shot a glance to his friends before approaching Happy, about to ask what was in the box before his enhanced smell caught a whiff of perfume- May’s perfume- and he stopped in his tracks, staring at the box. Happy gave him a small smile, waving him closer and opening it.

“It’s some of her clothes.” he said gruffly, quietly, as Peter pulled out a large oversized hoodie and gaped at it, mouth open in amazement. He carefully, tentatively, brought it to his face to sniff and almost crumpled right then and there, overwhelmed by the warmth and familiarity of it. It still smelled like her. Peter buried his face in it, tears threatening to pour down his face, as he inhaled the scent of his aunt- something warm and familiar and comforting, something he hadn’t experienced in months, something he thought he’d never experience again. It wasn’t her- it would never be her- but it was the closest thing he had. He looked up as Happy started speaking again. “It isn’t much, but I figure you need it more than I do right now.” the man’s voice was rough and gravelly, and his eyes had a suspicious sheen to them. Peter didn’t hesitate before launching himself at Happy with a fierce hug, the first hug they’d shared since everything went down.

“Thank you.” Peter murmured, a weight to his words as he squeezed Happy tight, feeling the man squeeze back. “Thank you so much, Happy.”

“Don’t mention it, kid.” Happy pulled back, patting Peter on the back as he clutched May’s sweatshirt tighter, moving back towards the box of her clothes. Happy turned to Ned and MJ, who had watched the whole encounter with soft smiles of their own. “I’ll go grab some blankets and sheets and such, you guys can crash here in the living room.” Happy explained, moving towards the hallway and leaving the three teenagers in the room. Peter was still standing by the box of May’s clothes, hands hovering uncertainly over it. He eventually elected to close the box and go through it later, unsure if he could handle another influx of emotions today. He did, however, tug May’s sweater over his head, relishing in the soft worn fabric against his skin and the scent of his aunt all around him.

Happy returned with the bedsheets and the trio elected to set up a blanket fort, spreading their supplies all over the floor and using cushions and pillows to hold it all up. Happy shook his head at their antics, muttering about being too old to crawl around on the floor, leaving them to their pillow fort and sleeping on his recliner instead.

It didn’t take long to set up their fort, settling comfortably among the cushions with Peter in the middle, MJ to his left, and Ned to his right. Their voices turned to whispers as Happy fell asleep, his snores echoing around the room. They laughed at the situation, Peter feeling lighter than he had in ages, able to act like a child again for the first time in a long time. With a pang, he was reminded of the last time he slept at Happy’s like this- the lack of May’s heartbeat and presence stabbing into his own heart every time he unconsciously sought it out and it wasn’t there. And yet, here, with his friends at his side in Happy’s apartment, warm and content, wrapped in May’s sweatshirt, the grief wasn’t as sharp and jagged.

They fell asleep like that, back-to-back on the floor like children at a sleepover. For the first time in months, Peter felt warmth next to him, heard strong heartbeats reverberating in the same room, felt the soft breaths puffing into the same air. He’d gotten so used to the cold loneliness of his single apartment that he’d forgotten how good companionship felt. Here, wrapped in blankets on Happy’s apartment floor with his best friend and girlfriend, he finally felt content again.

When he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, he didn’t have any nightmares.

Chapter Text

A few weeks later…

The wind whipped their hair, and MJ pulled her coat tighter around her as they gazed at the New York skyline. Some time had passed, in an attempt to settle everything down and acclimate Peter back into their lives. He didn’t want to come back to Midtown, said there wasn’t much left in the year anyways and it would raise more questions than was worth. His goal was to study to get his GED this year, and apply to MIT the next decisions cycle, the year after Ned and MJ. They’d selected to break the news to a few other people- namely just Pepper and Rhodey. Both knew Peter to less degree than the rest of the group had, but he’d deemed that they deserved to know. They obviously had a reaction, but after knowing Tony for so long and dealing with Avengers shit for years, it truly wasn’t the strangest thing that had ever happened to them. Peter wanted to stop worrying about the future and the spell, for the moment, though, so they put a pause on the discussion, instead reveling in the miracle of being alive and together.

Now, they were back at the Statue of Liberty, gathered in the same way they were on that fateful night a few months ago. The night that marked an end, and a beginning. They stood in silence, for a little while, just soaking in each others’ presence and allowing themselves a moment of peace for the first time in months. Ned was the first to break it.

“I’m sorry we can’t truly reverse it and remember you, Peter.” he said, softly, words almost drowned out by the wind. MJ tried to imagine what it would be like, for him. She got lucky- while she remembered that Ned’s constant barging in on their every moment was rather inconvenient at the time (such as when they were laying on the roof)- it became useful to have another person in the memory when trying to push herself to remember. Ned didn’t really have that. Before she came along it was just Ned and Peter, and her heart ached at the countless hours of friendship and memories that the two of them had together, that only Peter could remember, now.

But if anything, Peter didn’t look upset. Instead, he smiled back at his oldest friend fondly. “Ned, it’s okay. Believe me, I don’t need you guys to remember everything about me. Just having you guys in my life again, and having another chance, means the world to me. I never thought I’d have you guys back again- both of you.” He wrapped an arm around MJ as he spoke, and she leaned into his shoulder as he continued. “While I still don’t like that you guys could be in danger, you kind of figured it out before I could even make the decision on whether to tell you or not.”

“I’m still pissed about that.” MJ murmured. “Taking away my right to choose on such matters is basically an insult to my intelligence, if you don’t think I have the brains to weigh the positives and negatives and make an educated choice of my own free will.”

Peter didn’t respond to that verbally- he knew there was no response, no real justification he could give- just like in the discussion at the cemetery. MJ knew he regretted taking away their freedom of choice, but she also knew he would never regret doing it to keep them safe. It kept her up, sometimes, at night, knowing that Peter very well would have made the stupid decision to stay away from her and Ned forever, to ‘protect them,’ and they’d have been none the wiser.

She shook those thoughts off as the sky started to turn orange, the sun throwing vibrant colors into the air in the same way it had after the Statue of Liberty battle. MJ breathed in the cool, crisp, air, seeing Ned and Peter do the same out of the corner of her eye.

“Since we can’t rely on our old memories, you best bet we’ll be making a hell of a lot of new ones, Parker.” MJ said, breaking the quiet as the sun broke the horizon.

“Yeah, we’ll keep making memories for the next however many years until you have so many memories you won’t know what to do with them.” Ned teased.

Peter smiled at them softly, warmly. “I’d like that.” he said truthfully.

And thus, an era ended. One marked with pain and grief and forgetting and the feeling that something was missing. A sense that something was off- a letter misplaced, something not arranged properly, the unnerving feeling that something was not quite right but not being able to put your finger on it. MJ looked to either side of her, at her best friend and her boyfriend, and it wasn’t perfect- far from it, in fact- but they were together again, foggy memories and all. And she’d be damned if she allowed the opportunity to slip through her fingers again. So she closed her eyes and breathed the cool air, letting the light bathe her face and body in a welcoming warmth.

The sun rose, and with it, a new beginning.

THE END

~ ~ ~

BONUS SCENE: I could not for the life of me figure out where to put this little snippet but I wanted to put it in. Sometime after the cemetery talk.

Ned suddenly spoke, a tinge of disappointment coloring his voice. “Aw, darn. I forgot to ask Dr. Strange if I could keep the chair.”

MJ snorted a laugh while Peter looked hopelessly confused. “Seriously, Ned? The chair?”

“Hey, I had a checklist.” Ned defended himself. “Find Peter, get the chair. I completed the ‘find Peter’ step. Now I’ve gotta go back for the chair.”

BONUS SCENE 2:

Someone asked in the comments for the list of what Tony left for Peter, but I’d already written the whole story by that point and couldn’t really find a place to put it in, but if I had to take a stab at it, here’s what I’d say he’d leave him: college tuition, EDITH, any webshooter/Spider-Man things he worked on or had plans for, etc, during the Blip, lab equipment (I assume some saved for Morgan if she wanted it, but since she’s so young I’d assume Peter would get free reign first and then he could help teach Morgan later on since Tony wouldn’t have been able to as much, and it wasn’t Pepper’s or Rhodey’s or Happy’s thing), Peter’s and May’s stuff from the Blip, probably a certain amount of his money (I’ve been thinking about that in terms of the MCU, and I do think it would line up with his actions. He obviously cared a lot about Peter in the movies, and I’d say the money would probably go to Pepper by default because she was the spouse, so Peter/Morgan/Happy/Rhodey wouldn’t get any of it until probably after Pepper dies, that’s usual for married couples I think. It’s how my parents have their will set up. Though I’m sure if Peter ever needed, Tony probably had some failsafe or way to get funds if necessary- whether with or without Pepper’s approval, probably with at least until he turned 18. Let me know what y’all think about this topic, it’s interesting and I doubt it’ll be touched on in the MCU, especially now with the forgetting spell).

In addition to that stuff, I imagine Stark industries, once again, turned over to Pepper, especially since she’s already CEO, but when she’s ready to retire I’d be willing to bet some of it is bound to go to Peter- at the very least, a job offer if he wants it (sans forgetting spell, of course). Other than that, probably Peter would have gotten some photos of him and Tony, since they obviously existed to some extent in canon, plus I find it hard to imagine that Peter wouldn’t have also gotten a hologram message like at the end of Endgame. The only reason I can think of why he wouldn’t be in the group that got to watch it is because Tony wouldn’t want to risk being wrong, and at the point he recorded those, he didn’t know whether he’d be successful in bringing Peter back- or himself alive. But knowing Tony’s character, he probably thought of the worst case scenario- if it didn’t work and he died, but they didn’t bring anyone back, he would probably think ahead and wouldn’t want his last message to his family be tainted by the reminder that he died for nothing or something along those lines.

I dunno, maybe he wouldn’t think like that, but that’s how I’d think so. I’d say probably a separate hologram message was recorded for him. And really everything else is up to your imagination, whatever you want to think he left him, maybe some Iron Man stuff too, though I imagine the majority would probably go to Rhodey? Because War Machine is similar? Maybe not in case he was required to report that to the government or something, I don’t know the rules of that. Anyways, that’s that. Hopefully you guys enjoyed the little bonus additions and the story itself!