Author's Note: I do not own anything in this story and this is a work of pure fiction. I am not claiming any ownership of anything.

Spoiler Alert: this fanfic is timed after the events of Spiderman No Way Home and this is filled with Spoilers! That is my warning to all readers that have not watched Spiderman No Way Home.

There is something to say about being truly lonely. I'm not talking about the type of the lonely you feel when you go home after an evening out to an empty apartment. Nor am I referencing the lonely you endure when you move to university knowing you won't see your friends and family again until Thanksgiving. No. The loneliness I'm talking about is the type of loneliness you feel walking through the halls of a sky-rise, passing faces that you don't recognize and realizing no one knows you and you know no one. It's the loneliness you feel when you have news you want to share but you realize there is no one to call and tell it too. It's the loneliness that strikes fast and hard and leaves you gasping for breath. It's the loneliness Peter Parker has felt for the last year since everyone in the world forgot who he was.

Yes, the sacrifice was one he had to make to save everyone— everyone that hadn't already died for him already that was. However, there was no denying his utter heartache knowing he would be left out of the narrative of all the stories he once graced. At this point he would give anything to be remembered for even 15 minutes. Even if it was Flash Thompson that remembered him.

Doctor Strange did warn him. Warned him that the real danger was that he was trying to have two lives. He was right. But Peter wouldn't have to worry about that anymore. After all, with no one knowing him, Peter Parker was dead. Maybe not physically but everyone that knew him didn't anymore and so the name was just a place holder for a boy that once was so carefree and happy. His only role that mattered to anyone was Spiderman. So, his two lives collided, crumbled to the ground, and Spiderman was the one that rose from the carnage. Even if upset, Peter couldn't be angry at his Spiderman persona. After all, Aunt May wouldn't have had wanted that and considering how she died for him, it would be the least he could do to still don the mask and help those he could.

It was during night number 378 of being alone, that Spiderman found himself crouched on the roof of the building across the street from the New York Sanctum. He had been thinking too much of his life before the spell and found himself watching the door wishing for Dr. Strange to walk out and remember him. Though he knew not even Steven would remember him, it wasn't until the sun started to rise that he realized he had been crouched there for the whole night, unmoving. Standing, he winced at the ache of his joints after they had been still in the night air for far too long. Superhero he might be, but no level of powers would stop his body from feeling the wear and tear of years of battles and fighting super-villains. He wasn't immortal and his groaning knees reminded him of it as the months of patrolling every single night past. Reaching up, he shot out a web and swung through the air with home in mind.

Once in the apartment he loved for the memories it held, he dropped on the bed and closed his eyes. It will get easier. He reminded himself for what must have been the thousandth time since the fateful day he lost everything. It has to get easier. After all the other Peter's from other universes seemed to be doing okay despite their issues. Right?

It didn't. It had been three and a half weeks and still every single night Peter found himself returning to the New York Sanctum and every night he would crouch on the same ledge and wish for the same impossibility. To be able to speak to someone about his situation. To voice how desperately he needed someone, anyone, to remember him. To not be just a face passing in the crowd.

Every day after his part-time job he would walk to the coffee shop where MJ worked and see MJ and Ned talking through the window. Every day he would try to get up the nerve to tell them everything while reaching for the door but just before touching the handle he would remember Aunt May bleeding out in his arms and MJ slipping out of reach while falling for the other Peter Parker to catch her because he couldn't save her. He couldn't save any of them. So, he would drop his arm and turn away and walk back the way he came. He couldn't face a world where they would face consequences for actions they didn't even make. Ted and MJ being denied admittance to any colleges was enough suffering for them without them dying. He would not become like the other Peter Peter who watched his MJ die. And he really didn't want to have a best friend kill him in anger, even if he knew Ned would never betray him. So he would walk away and let them live a good, long, and happy life even if he would never get his trio back. Even if he never had the love of his life or man in the chair in his story again, at least he could remember the good times and smiles they shared.

"—and that is why I can't be brave enough to have them back into my life, May. I can't afford to lose someone again. I can't lose the last bit of my heart I have left or I'll become like Batman after Jason Todd's death. Dark, lost, and broken. I know, I know, I need to read happier comic books." He said with a sad chuckle while crouched in front of her gravestone. He hadn't realized tears were streaming down his face until a cool breeze caused the trails to chill drastically earning a shiver from him and forcing him to swipe at his cheeks. Laying the flowers flat before the stone in question, he rose to hear the incoming footsteps of Happy. The two have crossed paths countless times over the months and had a few short but meaningful conversations. After all, he was the only one from his past to still speak to him, even if he was unaware of their dealings in the past.

"You know. Every-time I come here, I wonder more and more how you knew May. You said through Spiderman but you are here often." He said coming to stand beside Peter. "I don't know you and I only see you in passing but you have a look in your eyes. One of someone who has been through great lost. I hope you find happiness." He said before placing a bundle of flowers on the ground near the stone, next to the one Peter had just laid. Silently, Peter smiled and left. Happy still helped people. Not him or Stark anymore but a stranger he didn't know. Or at least that he didn't know he knew.

What would Tony Stark tell him if he was here? Would he be angry and shout about how much he screwed the pooch? Would he pull Peter into a hug and cry for the loss he has endured from Tony and Aunt May's deaths to losing his friends? As immature as it would seem, he had wondered the last few months since the event at the Statue of Liberty, whether there was another Tony Stark out there in another universe. Somewhere in the multiverse where a Peter Parker and a Tony Stark had the chance to truly become father and son? If had he thought of it, he would have asked Ted to search for Mr. Stark and bought him through the dimensions. What he would give to hug his mentor and father figure again. To tell him he was sorry and how much he missed him. To ask his advice on the depression that weighed down on him now that the world forgot him. But those thoughts were selfish and selfishness is how he got here in the first place.

So instead, he would sit outside the New York Sanctum every night and walk past the coffee shop even after Ned and MJ would move to MIT and he would visit May's grave on the days that hurt more than usual.

Until the day he feels whole again, he would watch over his city and protect it. After all, he was Spiderman.