A/N: This was one of the best, funniest movies I've ever seen, and I am emotionally devasted once again, tHaNkS Marvel, so I... sort of fixed it

"Peter! Uh, my Peter!"

Crouching by the wounded Peter's side, Peter looked up at MJ's call. "Yeah?"

She stuck her phone in the air. "Happy won't go away until he talks to you."

Happy.

The relief of victory vanished, swept away by the last time he'd seen Happy, by May dying in his arms, by the sound of Happy slammed against the hood of a car, screaming at him to save himself, to get up and run when all he wanted to do was break down in somebody's arms.

"Who's Happy?" Peters Two and Three asked.

He shook off the pain, turning back to them. "He's a, uh…" No Avengers in their universes, so… neither of them have a Happy, do they? I can't- I don't want to imagine that. "He's basically my second uncle, I guess," he finally said. "Um, do you mind-"

"No, no, go," Peter Three said, waving him off. "I've got him."

Checking on the wounded Peter one last time, Peter swung off to reunite with MJ and Ned, stumbling as he landed among the rubble. They both ran to him, pulling him up and into a hug, and he clung to them, holding them, putting off the phone call just a little longer. "Are you guys ok?" he asked, his voice threatening to dip towards a mumble, an exhausted, broken mumble.

"Yeah, yeah, we're fine," MJ reassured him quickly, Ned initiating their familiar old handshake as they pulled back. "Are you ok?"

"I'm-" His first good look at MJ's face spared him from trying to find an answer to that. "You're bleeding!"

"I'm fine!" MJ caught his hand when he tried to look at it. "I'm fine, Peter, I'm fine. I promise."

"Are you su-"

"Peter!"

Happy's voice erupted from the phone, making him wince. "Peter, I need to tell you something."

MJ held out the phone, and with a swallow, Peter took it, putting it up to his ear. "Y-yeah?"

"Peter, May's alive."

The phone nearly slipped from his fingers. He reached out blindly, looking for someone to lean on, and MJ and Ned both caught him, shifting to stand on either side of him. MJ ran her fingers through his hair, and he hardly dared to breathe, as if the simple act of inhaling would shatter this moment.

Happy rushed to explain. "Pepper bailed me out and I called the hospital. It was touch and go for a while, but Pete, she's alive. She's stable. The docs are confident she's gonna make it."

Peter pressed a hand to his mouth, tears burning his eyes, MJ and Ned sharing a concerned glance. She's alive. "Really?" he whispered.

"Yeah, kid. She's gonna be ok."

A loud boom sounded overhead, drawing his attention upwards to a fracturing, purple sky and a struggling Doctor Strange. "Um, I'm- I'm gonna have to call you back. Thank- thank you for telling me."

"Any time, kid."

He handed the phone back to MJ, letting his fingers linger against hers for a moment, mustering up a smile for the both of them, a smile that they both managed to return. Taking that strength they gave him, he swung off once again, climbing this time to Strange. "What's happening?"

"They're coming through," he grunted, arms shaking as he strained to maintain reality. "I can't hold them off."

"Is there something we can do?" Peter asked, looking up at the glowing shapes morphing into humans, a whole bunch of people from across the multiverse who knew him. "Like, uh, cast the spell again? There has to be something-"

"It's too late," Strange interrupted through gritted teeth. "They're coming for you."

For me.

His earlier thought hit him anew. I don't want to imagine life without them. But…

A sinking feeling settling deep in his gut, he looked down. Down at Peter Two, stabbed and leaning on Peter Three, both displaced from their own universes, separated from their own families by a spell he'd wanted. At MJ, bleeding and fresh off a near-death experience he couldn't save her from, standing next to Ned, both of their futures destroyed simply because they knew him. At the phone she was tucking away in her pocket, Happy on the other end, his heart nearly broken because May had nearly died to save him. And finally, he looked back up at Strange, struggling to contain the spell that had started it all, a spell he never would've cast on his own.

All of this suffering… it's all my fault.

"What if they forgot me?"

Strange jerked his head around to stare at him. "What?"

"This is all because of me, isn't it?" If he weren't sticky, Peter knew he would fall, crumble under the weight of his words, under what they could mean, a part of him, the selfish part of him, hoping Strange would refuse. "So cast a new spell. Make everyone forget they know me."

They'll be safer that way. Everyone. In every universe.

"No." Strange shook his head, desperation cracking through his voice. "No, Peter, everyone who loves you, we- we wouldn't even know you existed."

We.

The single word stabbed his heart, and he choked out his response. "I know."

Five letters. Two syllables. Two tiny little words.

They broke his entire world.

Strange took a shuddering breath, accepting the reality neither of them wanted but both of them needed. "Ok," he said. "Ok. I'll do it."

Peter didn't waver. He wanted to waver – he wanted to take it back, he wanted to break the multiverse to keep what little family he had left, he wanted to see May again, he wanted to fall back into Ned and MJ's arms and never let go, and never be let go.

But when was he ever that lucky? When did he ever get to keep anything? When did he ever get to be happy?

It was never in the cards for him. He had to say goodbye to all of them, here and now, before he could cause them any more pain. And he didn't want to say goodbye whining like a little kid, the kid he had stopped being far too long ago.

I never even got to graduate.

"You should- you should go," Strange said, focusing on him in the midst of chaos, as if he were savoring this moment, this one final moment together. "You don't have long."

Peter nodded, finding himself drawing out the moment, savoring it too. "Thank you, sir."

Despite it all, he let out a chuckle. "Just call me Stephen, kid."

"Stephen," Peter corrected himself. "Thank you… Stephen."

"Yeah… still weird," Stephen said. "But I'll still allow it."

Peter smiled, and as he swung off, each web taking him closer to isolation, he thought he heard Stephen murmur, "So long, kid."

-MCU-

In the frigid air of the waning year, he swung along his usual afternoon patrol. People hustled along, bundled up in coats, some alone and rushing, some laughing with friends and family. Holiday decorations shimmered all around, trees and doorways adorned with shining lights, menorahs and trees visible in living rooms, wreaths and a rainbow of decorations covering windows and walls and doors. Snowflakes flurried around him, snow already blanketing the buildings and sidewalks, white and sparkling and something that once would've filled him with excitement.

He paid it little attention now.

He tried to be happy. He did. But without the hope of snow days, without the joy of anyone to celebrate the holidays with, even the most wonderful time of the year rang hollow, echoing with the loneliness of none of his loved ones remembering him.

But he hadn't lost them entirely.

He stopped on a rooftop across the street from the Sanctum Sanctorum, creeping to the edge and keeping low, just in time to catch Stephen and Wong returning with sandwiches in hand, bickering about whether or not to rearrange the library. When the door shut behind them, he moved on, finding Ned and MJ walking home from school, laughing about something Mr. Harrington had done that day, the black dahlia necklace still hanging around her neck, a new sling ring attached to Ned's belt. He followed them from afar, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, until they were both home, dreading all of their homework but safe and sound.

Only then, when he had no more excuse to linger, did he head for his final stop.

Living without Stephen hurt, but it was about as easy as any of this got, since they hadn't really been close until the end. He could cope without Mrs. Stark-Potts and Morgan, without the security the family had always given him, even restricted as he was to occasional glimpses of them on the news or their rare trips into the city. MJ and Ned were harder, so much harder, but as much as he missed her, the briefness of their relationship made things easier, in a way, because he'd already known how to live without her, and Ned… well, he'd been Spider-Man without his guy in the chair before, and the rest… he was figuring it out, keeping their handshake alive as best he could when he wanted to celebrate, learning how to enjoy building LEGO sets on his own.

But climbing up the wall to Happy's apartment every day, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before peeking through the window, it took every ounce of self-control he had not to run inside and jump into his aunt's arms.

May and Happy were doing some ridiculous dance around the apartment, laughing and carefree, with DUM-E off to the side doing a little bop of his own. Happy took May's hand and twirled her around, her hair flying as she spun back to him, throwing her arms around his neck and hanging on, looking up at Happy with a glow in her eyes that Peter hadn't seen since Ben died, a glow that Happy shared, a glow that Peter remembered from his precious little time with MJ. She was in love, so very in love, and he was so happy for her.

It was a far cry from where she had ended up with him, half dead and crying amongst the rubble, an army outside waiting to arrest her, J. Jonah Jameson ready to film it all.

The memory stopped him every time, keeping him outside, crawling away from the window before they could see him, hurrying to the roof before anyone could catch him spying. The brief glimpses were all he had, all he could risk, and they were enough.

For May's sake and everybody else's, they had to be.