Work Text:
Because you don’t connect to anyone!”
Peter woke up cold and alone in a mess of sheets and sweat, blanket tossed to the floor in his restlessness. His heart was racing from a half-remembered dream-fog, too many teeth and a sick laughter. And those words. They had stuck with him ever since that podcast, ringing in his head at every inconvenient moment. He ignored it for now, focusing instead on the rising tide of panic. Breathe in, Parker. Breathe out. In, out. Put those forced therapy sessions to good use. He repeated the mantra until his heartbeat gradually slowed to normal (well, normal for him) rythm. Calmer now, he laid back into the sickly-hot bed and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to claim him.
But Jonah’s words rang through his head, banishing any hope to sleep. Again. He had been having trouble with that since M.J left, not that he blamed her for it of course. To be honest, it had started before; Nothing he remembered, just a voice he couldn’t place and the uncomfortable sensation of a million crawling, wriggling legs. Not exactly peak dreaming material, he knew. He groaned in annoyance before blearily blinking away the remnants of sleep to the comforting glow of his phone. Two in the morning. Nowhere near early enough for anything to be open, nothing worthwhile anyway. His eyes drifted back to his bed but he unconsiously shuddered in revulsion. Not that then. His eyes moved past the bed, to where he knew his costume was hidden in a box at the very back of it. He grinned.
He had aways found web swinging to be incredibly relaxing, really.
The familiar back in forth made it an incredibly easy rythmm to fall into, the warmth of excercised muscle. He couldn’t help but grin under the mask at every fall and rise. Nothing quite like it and he whooped in joy before cringing. The city never slept, but that didn't mean he wouldn't get noise complaints.
His swinging found himself on familiar patrol routes. Three muggings and one robbery later, he was in a much better move. His swung past building after building until finally, almost unconsiously leading him to the now homelike sight of the bridge supports. Perfect. He reached the top of them in an easy motion, one that would have left anyone watching in envy.
There, surrounded by rushing wind and the faint sound of traffic, he could relax.
“Because you don’t connect to anyone!”
Except for his own thoughts, clearly.
Jameson's words sounded off again and Peter groaned again. Why was this sticking with him that much? He was plenty connected, thank you very much. With the spiders paticular brand of connection to the multiverse, it was impossible not to be. A web, connecting the worlds. If you had told him that years ago, he would’ve laughed you away. But, that wasn’t what Jameson had been talking about and he knew it.
He had been talking about Otto.
He tried not to think about, really. But it kept gnawing on him, like a dog with an old bone.
No one had really noticed.
That wasn’t completely true, of course. He knew that. The Avengers had noticed he was acting odd (Nevermind they had apparently let him go when Otto quit), though they had noticed only when Otto had beaten that woman to the ground. Little Danielle Cage had apparently noticed, he remembered with a smile. At least enough to know something was off. Again, though, the others hadn’t. Though honestly, what had Otto been thinking. He frowned. Threatening a baby? Not cool. Again though, no one noticed. Maybe, and he couldn’t believe he was even admitting this in his head, Jonah was…right.
Huh. That actually hadn't been as bad as he'd thought. Maybe they were actually building a relationship. Friendship, even.
Wild.
Cars rushed below him, full of people going about their business, and for a single moment he wished he was one of them. But even if Jonah was right, what could he do? Should, even. Fisk had wrecked his relationship with Daredevil at least, if not the rest of the “street-level” heroes. But there was Johnny. Cap was recovering from a similar situation nowadays too. And of course, Cindy, Miles and the rest. They would notice if he was changed already, but maybe he should try to connect with them more. Draw those lines of the (his) web closer. He pulled out his phone, sliding to the contacts screen. He rolled down the glowing list, names he hadn’t seen in too long. Maybe its time to change that. But not tonight. That probably wouldn’t earn him much goodwill. Tomorrow though. It was a new day, and perhaps it was time to change with it.