[ Five years have passed in New York City, and while all of the world has found some semblance of normalcy, Peter can feel a difference. Maybe his Peter Tingle is the culprit - senses set on edge by the images he sees every time he closes his eyes. Space. Titan. Thanos. Tony. But the world turns, Peter Parker is expected to return to his normal life (whatever that means) and he somehow feels like he's in quicksand, slowly sinking.
May wakes him up, ruffles his hair, pushes him into a chair at their little dining table and watches as he shovels food in his mouth like a man dying. Five years turned to dust means Spider-Man has worked up an appetite. And just like that, the rhythm of the before times returns and Peter has to bite the inside of his cheek as he walks down the streets of Queens and listens as the news casts talk about the blip, about disappearances, about Tony Stark and his legacy. He has to sit quietly and listen in between classes as student speculate what happened, or make light of the classmates that went on without them.
It's only when he puts the suit on that he feels like he can breathe again. Where he can soar through the skies unknown and exist without the rest of the world watching and waiting and asking so many questions. "Didn't you do an internship with him? Wait, did you meet the Avengers? How cool is Captain America? Do you know where he went?"
He doesn't want to worry May, and when she asks where he's going, he has FRIDAY play some false police scanner, some simpleton mugging a bodega in the broad of daylight. Today, he kisses May on the cheek and says he's going to school, but he makes it halfway before he hears it - some conservative conspiracy theorist talking about how the Avengers made it up, that the blip was a science experiment gone wrong, that Tony Stark is a blemish on humanity's name.
Peter doesn't know when he made it up to the rooftop, when his suit nanoed around him, or what building he's perched on, but its garden is extensive and beautiful. He throws his backpack on the ground and crouches down, breathing deeply and finding it difficult to catch his breath. The city below feels incredibly loud, buzzing in his ears even though he's many, many stories up above. His eyes burn, his heart races, and he falls back on his butt, and his helmet dissolves around his head, making the gasps of air all the more noisy.
His instincts brought him here - or FRIDAY, probably. Somewhere safe, somewhere private.
Why would a random kid from Queens be freaking out over Tony Stark, billionaire in the middle of the street, afterall.
He barely registers the sound of a door, or footsteps or both. The mask materializes again around his head, and he tries to leap up to his feet, to no avail. ]
H-hey... hey, uh, sorry. Just... just your... neighborhood - [ Peter tries to breathe, to catch his breath, and there's even a quiet ping from FRIDAY warning him that he's experiencing symptoms of an anxiety attack. Funny timing. ]
Neighborhood Spider-Man. I'll be... just gimme a sec and I'll just... I'll go. Y-yeah.
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May wakes him up, ruffles his hair, pushes him into a chair at their little dining table and watches as he shovels food in his mouth like a man dying. Five years turned to dust means Spider-Man has worked up an appetite. And just like that, the rhythm of the before times returns and Peter has to bite the inside of his cheek as he walks down the streets of Queens and listens as the news casts talk about the blip, about disappearances, about Tony Stark and his legacy. He has to sit quietly and listen in between classes as student speculate what happened, or make light of the classmates that went on without them.
It's only when he puts the suit on that he feels like he can breathe again. Where he can soar through the skies unknown and exist without the rest of the world watching and waiting and asking so many questions. "Didn't you do an internship with him? Wait, did you meet the Avengers? How cool is Captain America? Do you know where he went?"
He doesn't want to worry May, and when she asks where he's going, he has FRIDAY play some false police scanner, some simpleton mugging a bodega in the broad of daylight. Today, he kisses May on the cheek and says he's going to school, but he makes it halfway before he hears it - some conservative conspiracy theorist talking about how the Avengers made it up, that the blip was a science experiment gone wrong, that Tony Stark is a blemish on humanity's name.
Peter doesn't know when he made it up to the rooftop, when his suit nanoed around him, or what building he's perched on, but its garden is extensive and beautiful. He throws his backpack on the ground and crouches down, breathing deeply and finding it difficult to catch his breath. The city below feels incredibly loud, buzzing in his ears even though he's many, many stories up above. His eyes burn, his heart races, and he falls back on his butt, and his helmet dissolves around his head, making the gasps of air all the more noisy.
His instincts brought him here - or FRIDAY, probably. Somewhere safe, somewhere private.
Why would a random kid from Queens be freaking out over Tony Stark, billionaire in the middle of the street, afterall.
He barely registers the sound of a door, or footsteps or both. The mask materializes again around his head, and he tries to leap up to his feet, to no avail. ]
H-hey... hey, uh, sorry. Just... just your... neighborhood - [ Peter tries to breathe, to catch his breath, and there's even a quiet ping from FRIDAY warning him that he's experiencing symptoms of an anxiety attack. Funny timing. ]
Neighborhood Spider-Man. I'll be... just gimme a sec and I'll just... I'll go. Y-yeah.
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