Fading in and out of consciousness, Peter felt the gentle lapping of water around his body. He could smell the salt water permeating the air while he could feel the wet sand under his hands. Though, everything hurt. It was just a dull to sharp pain radiating throughout his body.

What happened? The last thing he remembered was hitching a ride on a spaceship and then fighting Thanos and then… He fell to dust.

At that moment, Peter began to choke and startled himself upright. Spluttering, he tried to take in deep breaths but was starting to hyperventilate. He died. He was on Titan when Thanos went through a portal and then all of them began falling to dust.

No. Most of them began to die.

Mr. Stark was holding him. Mr. Stark survived. He brought his hands to his head as he curled into a fetal position.

Half of the Universe was dead. But how did he survive? Peter clearly remembered the burning pain as his body was being reduced to ash and dust. Did that mean everybody else survived?

He thought back to being on Titan. Everybody else was dusted a lot sooner than him, and faster. So, they should be around somewhere. But, he didn't hear them, their heartbeats. So was he alone. Why did he survive?

With sudden clarity, he remembered back to a moment on Titan, when he was talking with Doctor Strange. It was a weird conversation…

"Peter, come here for a second," Doctor Strange called out while gesturing over to where he was sitting.

Looking at the Doctor confused, Peter nodded his head and made his way to the Doctor. "Yes, sir?"

"I just wanted to say sorry."

Peter glanced at the Doctor from the corner of his eye. "What do you mean? Sorry for what?"

"Ah. You will know in the near future."

Peter's brow furrowed as he fully turned towards the Doctor, "What did you-"

"Peter! Come here!" Tony yelled.

"Can't keep Iron Man waiting."

It was clear in his mind. His displacement had something to do with Doctor Strange. Peter began regulating his breathing. In for six seconds, hold for eight, and then release for eight, and repeat.

Eventually, his breath calmed down enough to look around. He was on a landfill beach. A very packed and overflowing landfill beach. Honestly, he didn't know how he didn't smell it at first. The stench was… overwhelming.

Wincing at the pungent smell, he glanced around, searching for any way out of the garbage or any identifiable landmarks. It was dark now, probably close to midnight, making it a bit hard to distinguish shapes even with his enhanced eyesight. Though, he could see high skyscrapers gracing the skyline behind the mounds of trash. To his left, there was a busy bridge but it seemed so far away. To his right was just more dark and overfilled beach.

His best bet would probably be going through the garbage pile. Maybe there would be someone willing to help on the other side. At least, it would put him closer to civilization.

Grunting, he pushed himself up. There was still a burning sensation in his limbs, maybe from getting transported to wherever he was. Peter eventually got himself to stand while swaying ever so slightly. His vision wavered and black spots danced at the edges of his vision. It felt like that any second now, Peter would throw up.

Looking down at his body for any injuries, this is when he noticed that he was distinctly lacking any of his Spider-Man gear. There was no Iron Spider suit nor his standard suit that was on underneath. Instead, he was dressed in a thin, plain T-shirt and some raggedy jeans. Neither were his and neither fit him. They just hung loosely on his thin frame

When Doctor Strange did whatever to transport him here, did he change Peter's clothes? That would be… Hella weird. A sudden chill shook his body as goosebumps appeared on his flesh. Feeling his clothes, he realized there was no warming system.

He needed the temperature control system attached to his clothes in order to thermoregulate properly. In this state, there was a fairly high chance he may freeze which would send him into a coma or even kill him. "Fuck."

He didn't know where he was. He didn't have a way to regulate his temperature. He didn't even know if he could find shelter or parts to quickly build a replacement. And he was starving. His body already healed a lot but it was running on fumes now. If he didn't find something to help soon, he guessed he only had a few hours at most before succumbing to his injuries and falling temperature.

Breathing deeply, he began walking towards the garbage, for a way through since he wasn't in the best condition to be climbing over. On the other side of the garbage, there had to be a road of some sort.

Finding a tiny way through, he squeezed his body into the opening, keeping his hands on some of the garbage that seemed steady. Sometimes, he was really thankful for the spider DNA considering it helped him contort to fit through the opening.

Bracing his hands, he slowly wiggled his way through, hissing in pain when sharp, jagged pieces of metal cut into his skin. Doctor Strange could have at least sent him to somewhere where it was easy to navigate. "Damn it," Peter swore.

Biting the inside of his lip, Peter worked through the pain. At some points, he really had to twist and turn and contort his body through the rubble. It only aggravated the aches and pains that plagued his body. Coming through the other side, Peter was stunned into silence. He was on the outskirts of a city, a Japanese city.

"Oh shit. Looks like we're not in Kansas anymore," Peter muttered under his breath.

Letting out a big sigh, Peter gritted his teeth and set out into the city.