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Comments

post-endgame! s-s-s-poilers

[jansport]

The people who died when Thanos snapped his fingers, five years and a timeline ago, return. The world doesn't change; all the living still remember what happened. Peter can't forget that, not in the way his aunt watches him when she thinks he's not looking, not in the way her fingers linger when she ruffles his hair like she's almost forgotten how. New things in their home he doesn't recognize, has to get used to, new neighbors, accommodations at school for those who'd been lost.

Except. The world does change.

The Black Widow is dead, for one thing. Thor leaves earth, unclear if he'll ever return. And Tony Stark had -- had a real nice funeral, small and private, and that's. What people tell him, anyway, what the news reports say. Because it's all the same, isn't it? A blur of black clothes, softly spoken condolences, the profound sense of loss. Peter meets Morgan for the first time, small and quiet and shy in ways he achingly remembers being. He'd been around that age, too, the first time.

("I know Spider-Man," she tells him solemnly. "He's one of my bedtime stories.")

Here's a fact: people want to know how he is, and how he's doing, and how he's holding up --

Queens needs Spider-Man. There is so much crime in New York City, guys, and people are scared, and looking at the suit hurts but saving people feels right, feels good --

Jessica doesn't ask him any of these things. And Jessica is, at least, alive -- has been, and he knows it had to have been horrible for her but he's still relieved.

The lock on her door is broken, so he doesn't have to knock to let himself in, calls a, "Ms. Jones?" by way of welcome as he goes looking for his graphing calculator. It's....somewhere, here, probably? He could've lost it literally anywhere in Queens, but here's hoping.

still haven't seen it so if i fuck something up lmk

[steerclear]

Five years is a long time.

Jessica has spent a not inconsiderable time of it with May. At first, running upstate in the chaos, avoiding as much danger as they could. Then, going back into the city to spend months, years, waiting for something. Oscar and Vido moved out of the building, out of the city, and May would insist on dinners. Calls. Some semblance of regular contact, the veneer of normalcy.

She went out into the neighborhood. Into Queens. She wasn't a hero, but while Peter was gone she was a something.

And then everything was back, and nothing was normal but it was overwhelmingly there.

(There hadn't been a funeral for her own family. Just boxes of ashes. She tries not to think about it.)

The lock on her door is in a kind of Schrodinger situation: you never know if it actually fucking works until you try it. More often than not, lately, it's been broken, and Jess can't give enough fucks to get it fixed.

"What'd you forget this time?" It's yelled from the kitchen -- she's actually going to cook and eat a food, what a miracle -- before she pops her head out to glare at him.