Everything was a hazy red and Peter had no idea where he was. It was a nice, homey house in what looked to be a nice neighborhood. The problem was he couldn't leave the house for some reason.
He heard humming coming from the kitchen and Peter froze, he knew that voice. He slowly entered the room. There she was, cutting vegetables as a blob of red mist stirred a pot of soup behind her. Wanda.
He and Wanda may not have been super close, but there was still something there. Wanda had lost a part of herself in the Battle of New York, the other Avengers had helped to fill that hole, but she took a liking to Peter when he was introduced to the team. He remembered that day all too well, the way her eyes glimmered just a little bit when she saw him, the same way an older sister would look proudly at their younger brother. She'd found her family… and then lost them again. Peter had tried to comfort Wanda as well as he could after the fight with Thanos, but she fell off the grid soon after. Now she stood before him again.
She looked up and saw him. A knife was suddenly at his throat and the red mist surrounded him, menacingly.
"Who are you? How did you get in here?" Wanda questioned, her accent slipping through.
Peter couldn't speak, his heart hurting too much to do so. Someone who he thought could have had the ability to at least remember him had to, forgotten.
"Wanda," Peter barely choked out, tears threatening to spill.
Something rekindled in her eyes. The knife clattered to the ground and the red mist dissolved. She held her head in her hands.
"I- I don't know, no no. I do know- no," Wanda fought with herself. "Who? Urgh, I know but at the same time I don't," Peter could hear the break in her voice by the end of it. She looked back at him, confusion and slight recognition light behind her eyes.
Peter felt something tugging him back. The two met each other's gaze for a sec but before Peter could say anything, the sound of the front door being opened could be heard. Wanda looked over to the door and then looked back. Peter was gone.
–
Peter startled awake. His back felt like it was on fire and he felt just as tired as before. However, there was no way he was going to fall back asleep after that.
Peter got up and decided he'd start cleaning everything up and to also eat. He'd also start the search for some other hideout once he was out. He scarfed down some breakfast before packing. It didn't take long to gather everything, but he'd need something to carry it all. So began the search.
He searched thoroughly through every single room and happened upon a large duffel bag in one of the closets. Luckily, it fit everything, but would be a bit awkward to carry. Peter looked wistfully at the computer, wishing at that moment that it hadn't been fried. It had been trashed, every single component of it.
It was going to be nice to finally get out of that lab. While it did have some perks, like being out of range of the rain and criminals, it did have some memories that Peter was all too ready to get rid of. With one last breath in, he opened the door and left.
–
Peter had no idea what time it was as he wandered around aimlessly. A swishing sound met his ears and his spider sense buzzed. He scanned the surrounding area, eyes catching on a suspicious dark area in the already murky waters. Then something rose from it.
A monstrous, crocodile-like humanoid looked right at Peter with its glowing yellow eyes. It got closer, sewer water sloshing around its massive body. Peter froze, he'd seen a lot of terrifying creatures before, but this was definitely going up there in the top ten. It sniffed Peter and visibly recoiled, seemingly catching a scent it did not like. Peter felt insulted, he couldn't possibly smell that bad.
"Rotten," the thing huffed, "... too skinny. Bad eating."
Ah?" Peter said. Trying to decide if he should feel offended or grateful that it at least doesn't want to eat him.
"Not safe here."
The croc made a shooing motion before slinking back into the water, not to be seen again. A sudden commotion from somewhere else in the sewers echoed to where Peter was. His gut told him not to get involved, so he ran further away. Before long, he could no longer hear any sort of commotion and slowed to a walk.
He began noticing the excessive deterioration in the walls he was walking past to be increasing, meaning he was into a poorer district. And poorer districts meant there would be abandoned apartments that he could squat in or even finding a dirt cheap one that he could afford after finding a job.
Sure it'd be dangerous, but Peter also grew up in New York and now has abilities to help him stay safe. He figured he'd need to be ready for any attack so Peter quickly snatched a few protein bars out of the bag and stuffing them into his mouth. Then he went to find a way out of the sewers. He found a ladder, although decrepit and probably tetanus inducing, and made his way up it. Lifting the cover up, he slipped out and into the outside world.
Gunshots and yelling became louder as he traveled further. Adrenaline shot through him as the violence suddenly got too close to him. He scrambled into the nearest window and ducked beneath it. Bullets whizzed past the window just as he did so. Peter heard people screaming and the sound of fading footsteps. It became quiet again. Peter breathed out, not even realizing he'd been holding it.
He peeked over the window to see a deserted alley that now contained a few new bloodstains. Peter made a clucking sound and slowly ducked back beneath the window. He looked around the room he'd jumped into. Scorch marks and bullet holes covered most surfaces of the room and he soon figured out why. Stepping out, it looked like a bomb had gone off in the hallway, with multiple other rooms being in similar conditions.
A deranged scream came from behind him. There stood a far too skinny woman who was obviously on something. She made eye contact with him and screamed again. Peter's sense tingled and he ran with the woman tailing after him, still screaming.
Peter burst through the door to the stairwell and launched himself over the railing before scrambling up the stairs. The screams did not stop, however, and she clawed and clambered up after him. It seemed another bomb had gone off in the stairwell as the stairs came to an abrupt stop and the remaining stairs above looked mangled and unusable. Peter thought quickly and chose to throw his bag onto the closest ledge. His attempt to jump was interrupted by the woman grabbing at him. He managed to dodge, but the woman stumbled over the edge and began to fall.
He didn't even hesitate to throw his hands out in an attempt to catch her with a web. String shot out and latched onto her, stopping her fall. Then Peter slowly let the webbing out until she was safely back on the ground floor. Seeing her now safe, he jumped to the ledge, grabbed his stuff, and jumped upwards even further.
Only when he reached an untouched room did he realize it.
"Wait, webs?"
Peter's bag dropped to the ground as he looked at his wrists where the webs had come from. The scars he'd seen previously and ignored still held little amounts of liquid webbing around them.
"Oh my god, it's like Peter Two," he mumbled. A grin crept onto his face and a short, excited squeal came from him. Peter shot his hands out in the familiar motion and webs flew out, accompanied by the sound of 'pew' 'pew', 'pewpewpewpewpew'. Once done, he slumped onto the nearby couch and let out a content sigh. Dust flew up into the air and promptly caused Peter to start coughing. Peter waved his hands to clear the air, but stopped when his eyes caught sight of something.
A gun.
In fact, now that Peter looked, he could see a multitude of guns and other weaponry. He picked up one of the weirder looking ones and inspected it. His eyebrows knit together in utter confusion. 'Is this a bat shaped boomerang?'
He put it down to look at the other weapons scattered around the room and see if there was anything else he had missed. There was first aid, water, and food. All of which Peter was happy to see.
Peter explored the other rooms where he managed to find some extra clothes and a sewing kit. An idea came to mind, 'I can start making a suit.'
Just the thought of it sent adrenaline through his body, he wanted to be Spider-Man. He craved the feeling of wind rushing past as he swung around the city, the feeling of helping others, the feeling of freedom that came with being Spider-Man. He didn't need some elaborate suit to be Spider-Man, he could even go back to using a suit like his first, all he needed was to be some kid with spider powers willing to take the responsibility.
Peter got to work. Taking what looked to be a black cowl and using red string to create a web-like pattern while combining it with a stray gas mask he'd found to use as a mask. Then matching it with some black sweatpants, sneakers, and a black and red sweatshirt with a logo that Peter guessed was some superhero's.
"Man, what is it with these people and the colors red and black?" Peter muttered. Then it struck him like the bullet train in Berlin. He looked around a little bit more. Masks, armored costumes, weapons; it all pointed to one thing.
Peter Parker had wandered into a hideout of the Bats' and the Birds'.
