Chapter Text
After the blip, after erasing his existence from earth in order to protect his loved ones, Peter didn't have anything left in his name. No academic papers, no social security number not even a single grand.
He has been erased and forgotten. MJ and Ned were now at MIT. The avangers tower was foreign to him. Bucky and Sam had taken things in hand.
The world was moving on without him. He sacrificed everything just for him to be as good as dead at the end.
But isn't that the purpose of a sacrifice? Suffering. If you don't suffer, you don't let go of something great for something less than desirable, if you don't doubt and toss and turn, wondering about what if...can you say you sacrificed?
He was cold and starving, walking the cold roads of New York with just a thin t-shirt and some cargo pants.
He was exhausted mentally and physically, he was running on hallucinations and fear of stopping. Because he didn't know if he would have the strength to stand up if he decided to lay down.
Everything used to be normal before the damn bite, before the night patrols and the Stark " internship ".
Peter Parker used to be a normal student with good grades, a bully and a nerd friend with a little crush on the Winter soldier. Don't ask questions. He saw once a poster of the soldier with long black hair and piercing blue eyes, metal arm in tactical gear and with those damn guns. He was HOT, brooding and hot.
Peter knew his type from then forward, he was into older men with brooding tendencies, territorial and possessive. All tall and imposing, preferably fighters and good at planning because he was too hyper to stick to a program.
But fuck all of that. He was dying a virgin and a loser. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Flash was right, fucking Parker was an unlucky bitch with a shity life.
That's why he was now on the high bridge, looking down at the clear reflexions of the moon on the water, thinking how it would feel to just disappear for a minute before the regeneration kicked in. Would it be like the snap? All tickling and itching?
How he wished to disappear like that again but without coming back.
He tried, everything! Shots of high dosage of medicine, cuts, stabbing and so on. It left him unconscious for various interval of time, but in the end he was always back.
On this bridge, clenching in his left hand the last hope of death, the device he built after months of sneaking into abandoned labs, scavenging parts and praying his stolen knowledge from the Stark internship was enough, the device supposed to replicate the snap but on a singular individual...he was praying for it to work.
That's why despite the honking, the pleas from the passer-by and the attempts at distracting him, he was on the other side, letting the noise die in the background, letting the cold brizz ruffle his brown curls and dry the feverish sweat off his face,...this was his last moments.
In the sky he could see the Falcon, now Captain America...Sam approaching. Ready to catch him. Damn...he never changed, always running into the fire to save the ashes.
But just for the sake of it, for that part in him that wanted them to remember or to know that they failed him in a certain way...he waited, he waited for him to be within range...then he jumped. Looking straight into those red lenses. Smiling at that shocked face and waving at the stunned crowd. Letting the high-pitched screams of women lulle him through it.
Sam extended his arm missing him by a few millimeters, thingers touching the hem of his shirt and just then Peter pressed the button. He saw the dread on some people's faces, some were running away afraid of being dusted too and others were freezed by fear.
But Peter... Peter was finally free.
That night at the tower, Sam looked through the database and everywhere for informations regarding that boy . The boy who decided to leave this world in such a horrible way. His body never touched the water, only dusted carried away by the strong wind.
The boy was all over the news and some people were telling stories about him being kind, homeless and struggling with a lot of psychological problems. But no one ever stepped to claim him as family or friend.
At least a name remained engraved in their memories forever...Peter Parker.