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If Peter had been asked only a couple of months ago if he would ever ingest energy drinks, he would have said no. Now it - no, he was different. It is the only thing forcing him to stay alive. That and his responsibility to keep the citizens of New York alive with him. Which is what he was doing today. Again. Like every day.
—
His senses alerted him of crime going on and as usual he was crawling to it. Just a simple convenience store robbery. As he looked closer, he noticed it was unusually casual. Deciding to swing in, he readied himself to put on the spider-man facade.
“How we doin’ guys? Everything ok?” He asked
“No! My own husband is stealing from me” The cashier said
“EX-husband, and I am not stealing. I am trying to buy something and they’re trying to over sell it because i am divorcing them!”
Oh ok, this early? I am not a councillor
“Ok, this is a trick situation. I think it’s best if you both go separate ways if you can.” Trying to defuse the situation “You don’t buy anything here, just because of the fact you aren’t on any good terms” Spider-man suggested
“That sound good” They both said unanimously
”Great! Stay safe people,” and with that he swung away, but not before waiting a little to check they didn’t continue
—
Just as any other, the rest of the day turned into a blur. Unlike the first job, the rest had been tiring with horribly mean people to stop. Before he knew it, everything was hurting: back, shoulders, wrists, fists and much more.
All he wanted to do was just… Sleep, that’s what. But he couldn’t.
There was too much going on and too small a number of heroes to deal with it all. Spider-man could try his best though, as long as it was another person kept alive and safe.
In the City that never sleeps, Spider-man couldn’t. It wasn’t even as though he was forcing himself awake; he just couldn’t sleep. There was no explanation. It couldn’t have anything to do with Peter having no job, so no money nor apartment. No, not at all. Because he had slept on the streets before, unintentionally.
He once had a horrible shift and patrol, which made him so tired as to fall asleep on a roof. But unlike now, Mr Stark was around to see where he was and take him home. There was nobody to do that for him now. He just had to make do with Chemical energy. After all, he was slightly chemical. ha
—
“Yo, bug-boy” someone down the ally yelled
Great! Just one last idiot to make my day so much more WORSE, and try to tip me off the edge… If it’s even possible to make this day any worse.
“Hey, I don't want trouble, ok? What do you want?”
“What do I want? I want you dead,” The angry citizen said, taking a lunge at him
That makes two of us
Spider-man said “Woah man, that’s a bit violent don’t you think? What motive do you have?” Flipping out the way.
“If you didn’t go to space, Tony Stark wou-” nothing else could leave the man’s mouth as he was swiftly cut off by a muffle of webbing applied to his mouth.
”I think that’s enough talking from you”
Peter ended up leaving him there, he was harmless after all. That wasn’t to say the words didn’t linger. They did worse, they glued to his brain. Playing on repeat like an awful song that barely deserved to be called music. Instead this was a statement.
No, stop thinking about it! It won't do any good to open a healed wound.
His subconscious could do nothing.
What if he was right? He was, Peter had made Tony think he was the reason he got dusted. If he had just stayed on earth, done what Mr Stark said. Maybe just, not even maybe. Just, just.
Oh he was. So. Tired. But he had to stay awake. The city never sleeps so neither could he. Right? Right.
—
Peter didn’t even know how he got up the skyscraper. He could hypothesise it was a mixture of being sleep deprived and his spiraling. No definitive answer could be found nor proven though.
How does one not remember climbing a SKYSCRAPER!
Normally he would enjoy seeing the sun rise but today something felt different. It didn’t feel anything. It was weird, so weird.
He didn’t want to be up here any more.
But there was only one fast way down, that he could remember.
He was so tired.
Of everything.
Being a hero.
Being Peter.
Eating.
Sleeping.
Being a functioning member of society.
This fucked up society.
The only thing forcing him to be here.
But oh look, a way out.
Nobody would miss him.
There were other heroes.
He’d lived a good life.
Now he wasn’t living one.
Was he really this weak?
He did ache everywhere.
The sun didn’t help.
Blaring.
Sure he could blame it on the sun, or the lack of sleep. He could blame it on any of the myriad of problems he had.
But the main reason, Peter Parker was really this weak.