After being erased from his universe, Peter keeps to himself. If anyone gets close, he’ll lose them, and he can’t lose anyone again. He just can’t. His past, the loss of May and Tony and everyone else had been a crushing weight on his chest for too long, keeping him up at night and making him jittery during the day.

He keeps his distance from MJ, becoming a regular at her coffee shop but not much more. He sees Ned there sometimes too, so he knows they’re both okay. He speaks to May often, in the cold of his empty apartment, when he’s lonely or scared or just… sad. Peter’s sad a lot. It helps to talk to someone, even if they’re not even around. He swears she speaks back to him, sometimes. Tells him to take care of himself, that New York can deal without Spiderman for one night if it means Peter can rest, albeit not well.

You started off as just a neighbour, coincidentally leaving your apartment at the same time as him on a morning with a soft greeting and a smile. With your kindness you managed to worm your way into Peter’s heart. As much as he tried to tell himself he couldn’t, the allure of human connection was too much.

And by God you were addictive. You never pried when he began to stutter and avoid questions about his past, meeting his anxious energy with gentle concern and care. So one day whilst you both were bundled up together on your couch, warm under an unreasonable amount of blankets, he decides to answer the innocent question on where he came from.

He leans his forehead against your shoulder taking a deep breath, preparing to let you in. Hoping for acceptance yet tensed for rejection.