summary: Connor is partnered up with Lt. Anderson and under supervision by a female Sergeant. He undergoes his first few cases with the two of them, building relationships by earning their trust.
the most realistic part of spider-man: brand new day is the fact that peter parker is a 20 something with a shit work life balance and middle aged coworkers who barely like him as his only friends
pairing: brand new day spiderman x gender neutral reader
synopsis: i wrote this immediately after watching the new movie. It's sad, and hopeful. angst that will make you cry in a happy way.
word count: ~1k
warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SPIDERMAN BRAND NEW DAY.
I REPEAT:
MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SPIDERMAN BRAND NEW DAY
loosely based off of the song all them horses.
masterlist
a/n: did the unthinkable and went to the first movie i've seen in theaters in years. returning to my roots with this one <3. as per usual, i will edit in the morning. cross posted to @ baconlover001 on ao3.
i do not use ai in my work, never had, never will. do not steal my work.
gif credit to @leave-me-colourless
You don't have to do this alone.
The words ran through Peter's head. If he was honest, they had been for the past...how long had it been? An hour? Thirty minutes? He couldn't tell.
He stared at the flip phone in his hand, the small space of Frank's filled now with an energy of unease, rain pounding down outside. New York really knew how to give an ambience, huh.
"Jesus, kid, are you gonna keep sitting there or are you actually gonna use the phone?" The man took the seat opposite his, bowl of questionable...soup? chili? placed onto the table.
"I--I don't know." Peter looked down at his hands. The wounds of his from the past few days had nearly healed completely, but he could practically imagine their remnants.
"'What's so scary? Worst that can happen already did."
You had been on the rooftop with him that horrid night. The four of you had no idea how that night would end, how much would change.
MJ had her own life now, Ned was still a mending wound, but he had made the conscious decision to block you out. Out of sight, out of mind. He kept tabs on the other two, but it gutturally hurt him to even imagine your face.
That, and you had wiped almost any digital trace of yourself possible. He had no clue how you did it, being Stark's kid and all, but with Harley and Morgan (Peter didn't even want to think about them right now) taking the wheel on everything, you slipped into the shadows.
You were smart. If you didn't want to be found, you wouldn't be found. You could blend into the background as well as the trees just past dusk.
You had already lost so much in so little time. Like him, phasing into the world after five years that felt like seconds--just to witness Tony's death. Then, you found out about Natasha, then Wanda happened, and it just never stopped.
If you two weren't side by side through it all, he didn't know how it would've gone down. You even went as far as to call him your freaking soulmate at one point.
He shook his head. If he thought about that, he wouldn't be able to stop the sob that would overtake him.
He was alone now, but you had always been, in one way or another. He didn't know how you handled it, and he wanted to cry at that thought too. You were stronger and more steadfast than he could have ever realized back then.
You were smart, yes, but you also were a storm, a supercell, when pushed.
So yeah, he couldn't blame you for disappearing. He remembered your hand in his during those final moments on the roof, you ripping off the tech on your person to give to him, to find you. You had wanted, hoped, that he would. You were both eighteen then, fresh adults. Now, in your early twenties, four years later, he found himself nearly sick at the thought of him being unknown to you.
Because even though the spell had worked, you were still Stark's kid, and if you felt the need to remember, he was sure you could figure it out.
Because, yes, it wrecked him that you didn't remember him. But it would be so, so, much worse if the other option was true--if you did remember him?
He had no right words for the dread that went through his body.
Nine out of the ten digits dialed, his thumb hovered over the last number. The warm screen met him, and he sat frozen at the number, so plain and simple in his phone, typed out as if you had chatted just yesterday.
A wave of nausea flew threw him as your contact, the one you put in, popped up as the full number displayed on the screen--it never even crossed his mind that your information transferred with the rest of his data over the years.
Not that it was necessary, of course. Besides May, yours was the only phone number cemented in his memory.
And then the phone was ripped from his hands.
"What are you--Frank--no, no--!" Peter scrambled for the phone now plucked from his grasp, sitting in the Punisher's own.
"No no no no no Frank what are you doi--"
Frank met his gaze, pressing the call button without breaking eye contact.
Peter's eyes widened quicker than they might ever have, arm flying across the table and quickly grabbing the device back.
"Why did you do that?" Peter was practically hyperventilating now, and the beginning of Frank's sentence was cut off by the dial tone ringing.
It was ringing.
It was ringing.
This was still an active number. This was still your number. At least, he hoped, because if it wasn't then this was going to be even worse, even more--
"...Hello?"
Peter's mouth fell slightly open. After a few moments, you spoke again,
"Um, hello? Is anyone there?"
All of Peter's thoughts came crashing in like the press of an accordion--it was still you. He was so aghast that he didn't notice he was shaking.
"Hello?"
Those familiar words echoed again, louder than every other abrash thought.
You don't have to do this alone.
Maybe, just...
Maybe.
His voice was scratchy and used, and frankly terrified.
finding an error in someone else's fic: awe. we are all human - this is totally understandable and doesn't bother me whatsoever. it is almost endearing to know that others are not perfect, and in their excitement to share, they made a small mistake.
finding an error in your own fic: a merciful death is too kind for me. i deserve to be burnt on a pyre or publicly executed at dawn
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