SPIDERMAN WRONG NUMBER

Remembering the past.

Damn, it's almost been a year since I've posted. (May 2021). Hope yall are doing well. Here's another chapter. I'm in uni now and instead of doing my work for my deadline in 2 days I decided to do this. ENJOY XX

Warning, talks of death.

Loki closed the door and finally Peter was alone. He allowed himself to cry a few tears before slowly and quietly getting out of the bed. He walked over to the large window and looked down at the city.

He remembered the day Loki invaded earth. He remembered seeing children and adults rushing around in the aftermath to find their loved ones. May and Ben were fine. They lost him briefly, he got trapped on the other side of a fallen building but his downstairs neighbour Mr Demaury had found him and reunited the small family.

There were tears from everyone that day.

He remembers the girl he sat next to in class. Her mother had passed away a few months before the attack, and now she lived with her father and sister.

It was three days after the attack when he found out that they had all died in a complex fire. (I can't spell, nor am I American so I apologise if that is not how you say a bunch of apartments)

It was four days later when he realised Mr Demaury's husband Lucas had died too. He went out to get takeout for their anniversary.

It was 1 week later he went back to school, the giant building somehow being intact even though the majority of the city was quite literally falling down.

It was 2 days after the start of school that he met Ned, and 2 days until he realised that Ned's grandmother had also died during the attack. She died alone, her husband dying a few years earlier from dementia.

He opened the window and allowed himself to feel the fresh air, wind blowing his hair out of his face for him. He allowed himself to shed one final tear as he jumped from the ledge and attached a web onto the opposing building, swinging himself off into the distance.

On the ground

Clint Barton was walking back to the compound, arms full of shawarma. He did not intend to share his food. It was his. No one elses. He already knew the perfect hiding spot for his food. A drop fell from the sky and hit him right in the middle of his forehead.

Damn rain. 

He didnt realise until later that night that there were no clouds in the sky at all.