Spideychelle one-shots

The Stars Above

A/N: Think of this like a loosely related sequel to Heroes Shine Brighter. I had NWH feels and I wanted to inflict them on others. 

****************************Spiderman: No Way Home spoilers ahead!!!*****************

                                                             

                                                                                (You Have Been Warned!!!) 

In the end, it still wasn't a story about Spiderman. In the end, it wasn't even a story about Peter Parker. 

In the end, it was the story of a broken boy and a world that forgot him. In the end, it wasn't really a story at all. 

May lies broken in the rubble of the apartment building, and Peter's learned one thing:

Being on the other side of death doesn't make it any easier. He's there, bones broken and bruised, knees on the sharp concrete, but in his head - 

In his head he's back on that planet. In his head he's in the middle of a battlefield, crouched in front of Mr. Stark. 

"You're good," he says, because he doesn't understand, because he doesn't want to understand. "It's good, we're good." 

His hand is covered in blood. It's so much blood, too much, spilling out across the pavement, painting the whole world red. 

And he's so tired. He's so tired, and it hurts so much, and he can't do this. How is he supposed to do this without her? 

(It's not good. It's bad, it's so bad Peter doesn't even know what to do, doesn't know how to fix this.)

And then (and then-) she's dead,  and the only small bit of any form of relief that he could have taken away from this - the knowledge that surely things couldn't get worse, now, surely this is as bad as it gets - well, that's taken away too. 

Because now - 

Because now he's lost everyone. Now, Peter's alone. 

Now, he's not really even Peter anymore, because who are you, really, when no one knows your name? When the person you are doesn't even exist, anymore? 

He doesn't have anything. 

And he has no idea what to do. 

And maybe it's been hard before, but - but even at the worst moment, even in his darkest days, there was a goal. A next step. At the very least, a faint idea of where the trajectory of his life should go next. 

Not anymore. 

Now he's alone, in a bare apartment that's unfamiliar in the worst of ways, because it's his home now. Because he can't go back to his actual home - he can never go back. 

And even if he did- even if he did,  May wouldn't be there. Even if he did, MJ and Ned wouldn't know who he was. 

It feels like all he does these days is cry, so much that he's surprised to have any tears left - but there's one more, at least, slipping down his face. He wipes it impatiently on his sleeve, too rough as he scrubs at his skin. 

The plain bedspread is smooth under his fingers, cool and unfamiliar, as he sits on the edge of the too-soft bed and watches the sun rise over the city. 

In his mind's eye, he sees May, laughing and vibrant; he sees MJ, sketchpad in hand, exasperatedly fond; he sees Ned, his best friend, always up for an adventure. 

It's hard, sometimes, to remember - but he has to. He's the only one that does and - and it's important, because it still happened. Even if no one else remembers, it still happened. 

They still happened. Everything they did, everything they didn't do - it still matters. Especially to him. 

He knows that May would tell him to not let his life slip away along with everything else. That there's always some good to be found. He thinks that MJ would tell him that he's still alive, miraculously, and that 'moping isn't a good look on you, Parker.' But she'd say it that way of hers, fond underneath the sarcasm, hand wrapped in his. 

Ned would probably hug him - Ned would definitely hug him. 

But Peter knows that all of them - Ned and MJ and May and Happy and Dr. Strange and Mr. Stark - they'd all want him to keep going. 

So that's the other thing that he remembers when everything becomes just a little bit too hard. When you've lost everything, there's only one thing left to do:

Live. 

I cried when writing this. This is the official last chapter of this fic. It's gotten pretty long, and I thought this was probably a good place to end it. If you have any ideas or requests, please still leave them here - if I feel inspired, I may start another book of oneshots. 

I wanted to say that this fic has gotten an insane, unbelievable amount of amazing response, especially considering it was the first fanfic I ever posted. I love everyone who has read, voted, and commented on this fic - y'all are amazing, seriously. 

Anyways. In the words of my version of Peter - remember to live, guys. I promise, there's good with the bad. 

-Viwrit3r