Chapter Text
“It would be as though you never existed.”
Peter took a breath. “I know. Do it.”
He hugged his friends, said his goodbyes and they watched as everyone disappeared. Back to their home worlds. As Peter stood upon that ledge, ready to leave his friends once and for all, it happened. He began to disappear. Dr. Strange was sending him away.
This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t how it’s supposed to happen. He was supposed to make them forget. Not send him away. Not get rid of him.
Peter was weightless. He was drifting, the wind rushing all around him. He was peaceful.
Then, he opened his eyes.
Peter was falling. Crashing, hurtling towards the ground at dangerous speeds. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know if he would survive. A fall this high in the air, at this speed. Even with his strength and durability, he didn’t know. Was he going to die?
He flung himself around in the air, turning for his stomach to face the ground. Where was he? He still had his suit and his webs. No mask. He just needed to find something to stop his fall. Something to attach his webs to.
There was nothing. One big building; a mansion really. Trees too far away, grass, and a cement pathway he was hurtling towards. The mansion was too far, he wouldn’t be able to hit it with his webs. Everything was too far away. Well, besides the ground, but to be honest, cement isn’t sounding too fun right now.
In simple terms, he was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed.
Peter flipped himself back around, letting his back face the ground. He curled up, doing his best to brace himself for the impact. He took deep breaths. If I’m going to die, at least I said goodbye. At least I have no one left to lose. The thoughts of his Aunt May brings a tear down his cheek, but the wind quickly wipes it away, erasing the evidence. He just hopes whoever finds his body isn’t completely traumatized.
With that, Peter hits the ground. He immediately blacks out to the sounds of the cement breaking and his bones crushing.
Damian was enjoying his day. It was the weekend, so he didn’t have to go to that hell his family referred to as “school” and he could spend his time with his pets. He was walking his dog Titus around the manor grounds. Key word: was.
Damian was walking when he stumbled upon a man. A boy really. He couldn’t be much younger than Timothy. He was wearing a strange outfit. One that was eerily similar to his family’s when they fought crime.
Damian drew his precious katana. This boy was a trespasser after all. No matter his condition, he was infringing on his home. Such an act could not be tolerated. Yet despite that, he still sent Titus to go retrieve someone from inside the home. The boy looked, to put it nicely, dead.
Damian checked his pulse. It was there, barely. Then he pointed his katana at the intruder's neck.
Peter didn’t know where he was, but he didn’t like it. Everything hurt. He tried to move, but the action was so excruciating. He let out a groan and stopped trying.
Now, Peter liked to believe that he had a higher pain tolerance than most. He had gotten hurt so often as Spiderman that pain wasn’t a new thing for him. This was new.
Peter’s no doctor, but he thinks he might be dying. When you fall from such a great height in the air onto straight cement, then breaking that cement because you were falling so fast, well… That’s no good thing. Peter has many, many broken bones, and he thinks he’s bleeding somewhere. Then add on top of everything the injuries he’d gotten during the fight back home. Well yeah, he might be dying. His enhanced healing just doesn’t seem to cut it right now.
Also, could that person who’s kicking him please stop. That hurts and he wants to go back to sleep.
“Wake up intruder.”
Hold up, intruder? Now that just won’t do. Peter here is no intruder. He’s just decided this is a great spot to die peacefully and unbothered. But apparently he was wrong, because this person won’t leave him alone.
Peter opens his eyes and he must be hallucinating, because the first thing he notices is a sword pointed at his throat and a literal child holding the sword. The kicking stops, so Peter figures it must have been the kid. He’s so confused. Why is there a literal child trying to kill him when he’s already kinda dead.
He goes to speak. “What the fuck?” Along with his words, blood seeps from his mouth. Well double fuck. That’s definitely not good. Peter thinks he’s screwed. The kid may as well stab him now. Make it quick. It couldn’t hurt worse than his current condition.
“Damian!”
Well, if he didn’t say that, and the kid in front of him didn’t say that, then that means another person’s coming to join the party. Whoopee! Hooray! Let’s see who can kill Peter the quickest, because Dr. Strange seems to have done a wonderful job here. Honestly, Peter’s betting his money on the Dr.
Peter soon discovers the owner of the other voice. It’s a kid around his age, with black hair, blue eyes, and oh look! He’s normal. No sword in sight.
“Damian, what the fuck. Put away your stupid sword.”
Thanks man. Peter was thinking the same thing.
“Drake, this is an intruder.”
Peter decides it’s his turn to speak. “Woahhhh.” He coughs up some more blood, having to pause his sentence. The new kid looks concerned. “Cool name. Like the rapper.”
The two kids just stare at him. Not amused. Okay, well maybe Drake doesn’t exist in this world.
“Damian, he’s hurt, we need to help him.”
Peter agrees. Definitely help him. He’s in a lot of pain at the moment.
The little one, who Peter assumes is Damian, puts his sword away.
Drake - 1, Damian - 0.
Immediately Drake kneels down to help Peter.
“What’s your name?”
Peter considers lying. He is still in his Spider-Man suit after all, but he figures who cares. I mean he’s in a completely different universe, they’ve seen his face, and for reasons he still can’t figure out, he fell from the sky.
“Peter.” He croaks out.
“Okay, okay. Peter, you’re gonna be okay.”
Peter just laughs, blood coming up with the action. Well if he hasn’t died yet, his healing has probably already kicked in. Nevertheless, Peter can see the black creeping across his vision.
“Well if I’m gonna die, at least I’m dying in the arms of a famous rapper.”
With that, Peter passes out once more.