If possible, Peter's "home" seemed more quiet and lonely than ever before. The sky was gloomy, the sun wasn't visible through the thick smog-like cloud that hid the crystal blue sky from view. He had managed to escape the nightmares for the night, though that mainly seemed to be due to his inability to sleep at all. He had only managed to get 2 or 3 hours, while spending the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, willing himself to finally fall asleep.
He was stuck in the deafening silence of realising how alone he was. And how much he missed people.
Realising he wouldn't be able to get any more sleep for the rest of his night, Peter sat up and leaned against the window and stared out at the empty streets outside the building.
The whole world seemed quiet, as if someone had hit pause on the universe causing everything to stop. That was until the clouds gave out and rain started to pour down on the city.
Normally, Peter loved rainy days. He and May would put on comfy clothes, make hot chocolate and binge watch movies all day. Or he and Ned would meet at one of their houses to build legos and binge Star Wars.
Normally these were days of peace, of friends and family, of subtle happiness that left a smile on his face for days.
Normally, Peter was not alone.
Nothing was normal anymore.
Get up. Do something, his mind pleaded him. But his body didn't listen. There was no reason to do anything. If he sat there all day nothing would change. There was no one waiting for him, no one who would miss him if he didn't do anything.
He willed his body to move, but his muscles disobeyed. Eventually, Peter found the strength to stand up, though his body protested. It screamed at him to stay in bed while his mind screamed back that they had to get up.
Somewhere between the internal argument, Peter made his way over to where he was keeping his food. Picking up an apple and a muesli bar, he stared at how little food he had left. He would have to buy more tomorrow.
At some point, the apple and muesli bar disappeared and were replaced with a core and wrapper. Peter didn't remember eating the food, but he supposed he must have, there was no one else who could have.
Usually on days like this, Peter would walk around the city. When he didn't have the internship or work, he had nothing. So he would walk. Everywhere.
Never towards or away from anything, just around. He would watch people, play his game of imagining their lives, planning his days, and doing anything to pass the time. Most of his days were boring. And now because of the rain he couldn't do the one thing he normally did to cure his boredom.
And yet, Peter had no intention of staying in the abandoned building he called his home. Though it was currently keeping him dry from the heavy rain that was drenching the world outside, he couldn't stomach the idea of staying here alone all day and night.
A little bit of rain was more tolerable than total isolation, maybe he shouldn't have left Bucky's apartment. And yet Peter knew it was the right choice. Now he just had to make another good choice.
In reality he only had three real choices:
Stay here all day by himself
Go out into the rain and find something to do.
Wander
Already crossing off the first option, Peter was left with two choices. See, though Peter was willing to go out in the rain, he wasn't exactly thrilled about it. He didn't want to just walk in the rain all day, he would catch a cold in the freezing weather which would only slow his healing process more. So there went his third option. Which left Peter with the second, to go out and find something to do.
But where would he go? He couldn't go to SI, or work. He couldn't just sit in a store all day, he had to find somewhere. What place does no one question you being there all day and doesn't require you to pay to sit there?
Oh. The library.
Peter honestly felt a little stupid for not thinking about it before. It would only take him a maximum of 15 minutes to get there—20 if he went the long way to stay out of the rain. He would not only get out of the house and out of the rain, but it also gave him something to do. He could go on the computer or read some books. Anything to stimulate his brain.
Peter stared out at the pouring rain outside, it would be worth it.
Climbing out the broken window and down the fire escape ladder, Peter was careful not slip on the wet metal. His ribs and body still ached from the beating from barely 2 days ago, so climbing down his building took longer than expected, and the water didn't help. But Peter just gritted his teeth and tried to push through the pain until he finally reached the ground.
The rain poured down into Peter's head, causing his hair to stick to his forehead. Each drop that hit the pavement blended together to make a melody, playing a song it felt like only Peter could hear.
No one around him as he walked seemed to notice or acknowledge him. They were too busy trying to get from one place to another as dry as possible. They didn't have time to look at a kid walking alone in the rain. Perhaps that was the reason Peter noticed them, the only thing Peter had was time.
Eventually, after 20 minutes of trying to find the driest route to his destination, Peter arrived at the steps of the library. Just like he had done almost a week ago.
So much has happened in just a week, Peter thought to himself.
Nothing ever happened slowly, or over time. Everything in Peter's life was always quiet for a long time, like an animal waiting in the bushes until finally they pounce and everything goes to shit. Normally it was a fight or a battle—with the ending bittersweet—where the good guys win but always at a cost. Like when he beat the Vulture but lost Liz or when they defeated Thanos but lost so many heroes.
As Peter finally exited the rain and entered the library, he tried to push the thoughts aside and focus on finding a book to read.
Peter waved at the receptionist he met the other day as he walked in, smiling as he did so, before making his way over to the maze of bookshelves that littered the large library. It felt like there was a section for every type of book imaginable: true crime, fantasy, manga, cook books, self help books and everything in-between. Peter was spoiled with options.
He started to walk towards the bookshelves titled "mystery". As he turned the corner he met the gaze of a bleached-blonde girl who was previously reading the blurb of a book she was holding—Gwen Stacy.
"Peter?" The blonde questioned. She seemed surprised to see him, but not as surprised as Peter was to see her.
"Hey Gwen," Peter replied, his voice coming out breathy. The two teens stared at each other for a moment as if they were expecting the other to start the conversation. When Peter didn't, Gwen decided to ease the tension and speak.
"You weren't at the internship yesterday," she points out, putting the book back on the shelf and turning towards Peter. Her hands crossed over her chest but the tone in which she spoke was not accusatory, instead it sounded like she was just reciting a fact. Which she was, Peter supposed.
"Yeah, I got sick Friday night, I didn't want to go just in case I got anyone else sick. I'm fine now though," Peter lied. He didn't want to tell her he got beat up, say what you will but Peter didn't want her to think he was weak. Besides, he looked mostly healed now so saying he got beat up would sound more like a lie than being sick was.
"You didn't miss much anyway. Most of us are still doing research, you're miles ahead of all of us," Gwen chimed in with a small laugh. Peter smiled awkwardly, though he wasn't sure how to respond. So instead he changed the subject.
"So, you looking for some books?"
Peter mentally face-palmed himself for how forced his sentence sounded. Peter cringed, but tried to keep his face calm to not show his discomfort.
"Yeah," she replied slowly "you?"
"Ah, yeah," Peter said. Which was how Peter and Gwen found themselves browsing the bookshelves of the library together. As they searched for books, they talked about their projects. They each explained their own to each other before giving the other ideas for how to improve.
It was nice, Peter missed having friends to talk to. Talking to Gwen was different than talking to Ned or MJ. Not that he didn't like talking to them, but those conversations always inevitably ended with talking about the blip, superheroes, or Spider-Man. Peter couldn't blame them, they were the only interesting things happening in the world around them. But Peter longed to just talk about anything else. And with Gwen he could.
Peter's awkwardness started to slowly wash away throughout their conversation as he grew more comfortable with Gwen. Who was slowly gathering a tower of books in her hand. Peter had also found a book he liked, though not as many as Gwen. The book Peter had found was a sci-fi book called Dune. He had heard it was really good, and now that he had the time to read it, he thought he might as well give it a try.
As they walked towards the biography section, Gwen mentioned:
"I never asked, what school do you go to?"
In what Peter could only describe as instinct he responded, "Midtown Tech." He immediately regretted it when he saw the confused face of Gwen.
"I go to Midtown, we look like we're the same age. I've never seen you around before," Her voice showed it was not a question, but a statement. Peter couldn't believe he let his old school name slip instead of the one he had put on his files as the internship. Now she knew he was lying, shit. Peter started to ramble in attempts to cover it up.
"That's weird, I've seen you around. Not that I've been stalking you or anything! That would be weird. Not because you're weird or anything, you're great! We don't have any classes together so that must be why you haven't seen me–"
Peter was cut off by Gwen, who was giving him a knowing glance that stared into his soul. The blonde sighed before saying:
"Peter, I'm on the school's student council, I know everyone in the school. You don't go to Midtown."
She paused, as if to give Peter time to explain himself. But Peter found the floor to be more interesting by the second, too scared to meet her eyes. Eventually, after a few moments of intense silence, she began to speak again.
"Look, I know something is wrong," She looked at his split lip, then into his eyes. "You always look like you haven't eaten in days, and you're always wearing the same thing. I'm not accusing you of anything, and I won't get involved if you don't want me to," Peter met her eyes as she said that, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Some of the tension in his body fizzled out, "but I just need to know one thing. Are you safe?"
Was he?
Probably not.
But he had a roof over his head, money, food, friends. Wasn't that everything a person needed? Didn't he have everything he needed? Maybe he could have more, he would work to afford it. But for now, what he had would have to be enough. It had to be.
Besides, what was the alternative? Say he wasn't safe, then what? What could Gwen, another teenager, do to help him? Nothing. The only thing she could do was one thing Peter wouldn't even consider, calling CPS.
Putting the most realistic smile he could on his face, which still felt phoney to him, Peter responded.
"Yes, I'm safe."
all you do is lie
Gwen seemed to accept his answer, smiling back and nodding along.
"Good."
Sometimes, people make it too easy to lie. They always accept the answer they want to hear, even if it clearly isn't true. They want it to be, so it is. It hurt that even without a secret identity he still had to lie to people who seemed to care about him, he still had to hide injuries.
Eventually the hours passed, Gwen and Peter kept talking and browsing the library until Gwen had to leave. After waving her off, Peter realised that the library was not as fun alone. Or perhaps it was, and he was just sad to be alone again.
Seeing no point in staying, Peter got a library card and borrowed his book. He shoved it under his hoodie to hide it from the light rain that was still pouring down on the city and began to walk back to his building. It didn't feel like a home anymore.
When Peter made it back, he put the book down on the counter and climbed up the creaky stairs to the roof. Staring out at the city, he stood up on the edge. How was he meant to help people? How was he meant to save a world he had no choice but to push away?
"You sent me here!" Peter called out into the void "What am I supposed to do!?"
Like Peter expected, there was no response.
There was always no response.