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chapter sixteen
welcome to a new start
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LENA WAKES FEELING like she has come back from the dead. Her groggy mind takes tedious moments to recognize her surroundings, taking in blurry images slower than usual. It's the deepest slumber she's had in a long time, scrambling her thoughts and making her struggle to collect them before they flit away like pieces of a puzzle she'll never be able to solve again.

There's something strange about what she's seeing. She scrutinizes her room to figure out why. A textbook is open on her desk from an assignment she'd started last night, her pen resting on her notebook, waiting to continue taking notes. Lena sits up in her bed and hears paper crinkling. She'd fallen asleep writing last night, the journal resting open on her lap with a poem titled "Lost Time" facing her. Her favorite yellow Converse are neatly placed in front of her closet.

Then it hits her.

Lena is in her bedroom. In her apartment. That she lives in with her parents.

She hasn't been here in months, and yet here she is, waking up in the comfort of her own space like everything is normal.

Her fingers scramble for her phone before she can tell them to move, clawing for her nightstand with frantic movements. The brightness of her screen sears her tired eyes when she powers it on. The date reads one day after they spoke to The Daily Bugle. Theoretically, only a few hours ago, she was racing against time to cure multi-dimensional supervillains and send them back to their respective universes. Yet she doesn't feel as fatigued as she should after such little sleep.

Peter had said that Strange didn't know who would remember the past few months once the spell was cast. What would she do if she's the only one in their trio who recalls the way the world had turned on them? Who remembered the inside jokes they made? What if Peter has forgotten their date on his birthday? When they said they loved each other?

She didn't even get to finish it back before the spell was cast.

A buzz from her phone rips her out of her rapidly spiraling train of thought. There's a new text in her group chat with Graham and Peter.

GRAHAM CRACKER: yo i had the craziest dream

Bells ring in Lena's mind. Could this be a signal? But then again, with Graham's powers, weird dreams are common. She decides to play it safe.

LENA LENA BO BENA: hopefully not a nightmare?

GRAHAM CRACKER: kind of? like, yes but also no.

PETER PARKOUR: Same

PETER PARKOUR: My brain is all jumbled

LENA LENA BO BENA: meet at ristretto in an hour?

GRAHAM CRACKER: yes

GRAHAM CRACKER: i need copious amounts of caffeine rn

-♕-

Graham slides into the booth the trio had claimed in the back of the café, placing steaming mugs in front of Peter and Lena. Things have felt... off ever since they'd arrived. When Peter had walked in and she'd waved him over to the table, her heart had tripped over itself and thundered in her chest at the sight of him. Uncertainty hangs over her even as she tries to act normal. Does he remember all of the moments they'd shared over the past few months of hell, or had his memory been altered by the spell, rearranging the timeline since July into an amalgamation of falsehoods?

Then again, what even is real now? Ma and Pa had been happier this morning than she'd seen them in months. Whatever they think had happened is real to them, but not to Lena. Her brain hurts the more she thinks about it. She'd had to blast Paramore in her earbuds on the walk here just to avoid spiraling. All this consideration of real-vs-not-real is tipping dangerously into Mysterio territory, and she doesn't have the energy to start fearing that everything around her will fade to blue pixels again.

Her pinky finger is linked with Peter's on the bench. Both of them are stiff. None of this feels right; she keeps darting her eyes around, expecting to see people looking at them and whispering, but they pay her no attention.

She's spent so long being a public enemy that she'd forgotten what anonymity had felt like.

Lena feels the truth of everything all over her body. If it hadn't been for the physical evidence within her, she might have wondered if it all had been a dream. But her eardrum is still ruptured and the usually startlingly loud sounds of the coffee grinders in the cafe are barely discernible now. She has to rely mostly on reading lips to understand what people are saying.

Then there's the bruising around her nose from when Graham had shattered it. The discoloration is gruesome, causing purple and dark blue splotches to blossom on her skin. According to Pa, it had happened on patrol, when a carjacker had gotten physical and she'd been too slow to block his punch. She'd feigned innocence this morning to gauge what they remembered. From their responses, Lena had been living a completely different life in their eyes.

"Alright," Graham says, shattering the ice. He cups both of his large hands around his mug like he's seeking comfort from its warmth. "The two of you are radiating enough fear to power seven of those scream tanks from Monster's INC."

Lena stares down at her tea, the steam wafting into her face. She breathes in deeply, inhaling the calming scent of chamomile. Then she speaks.

"I don't think... what you..." Those words don't sound right. She tries again. "I don't think it was a dream."

Graham's brows furrow. "Not sure I'm following, Lee."

"Did it seem a little... long?" she asks. "Too long for just one night's sleep?"

"I don't have dreams the same way you guys do," he says. "I've taken a ten-minute nap and had a nightmare that took place over the course of a week. Things like measures of time, too much clarity, whether or not I realize I'm dreaming, they don't affect me how they did before my mutation" — he casts a furtive glance around to make sure the ambient chatter is enough to blanket his words — "manifested, or whatever you want to call it."

Lena wishes she hadn't suggested someplace public to hold this conversation. Ristretto had been a place of comfort to them before their identities had been revealed, and she'd thought returning there would soothe her. But now all she wants to do is scream, THERE'S A MULTIVERSE! and she very well can't do that here.

So, instead, she reaches into her jacket pocket for the ballpoint pen and mini notebook she carries around in case inspiration for poetry strikes. Tossing them both onto the table, she uncaps the pen and begins haphazardly sketching. A man with mechanical arms protruding from his back like tentacles. A rough depiction of the Green Goblin's mask. Two lightning bolts. Eyes that are colored in completely black. Three Spider-Man logos, each slightly different from the other.

When she's done, she slides the notebook to the center of the table and waits. Her leg bounces restlessly as the boys peer at her jagged art style. If they don't understand, it will look like 'gibberish. Nonsense. But to Lena's immense relief, Graham heaves out a sigh and says, "Yeah. That was it."

It feels like the sky has been lifted off her shoulders. Her posture goes slack, her leg bounces transitioning from anxiety-driven to habitual movements.

"So we agree that it happened, right?" Lena asks. If she's wrong, and if everything had been one huge, weird shared dream, an extension of Graham's powers, she's going to lose her mind. Maybe she really had broken her nose on patrol and the dream had been so intense it had blocked that memory. "It wasn't a dream? That was all real?"

"I woke up in an empty apartment," Peter says, his voice quiet. He wets his lips before adding, even more strained, "No May."

The silence that falls upon the table is so heavy that it's nearly smothering, or maybe that's the smoke filling Lena's lungs. She blinks and sees nothing but orange flames choked with dust. May's body lies in a heap in the rubble. The Green Goblin's laugh echoes in her ears, and then a pumpkin bomb is rolling toward her, its light blinking rapidly as a signal it's about to explode—

She flinches hard, catapulting back into the present to find Graham in a similar state of dissociation. Lena takes Peter's hand and gives it a squeeze. His eyes tear away from her drawing and land on her. Her heart aches at the grief reflected back at her. It seems like, although the spell could rewrite people's memories, even creating false ones, it can't actually erase the past. It can't reverse death.

And it just isn't fair. It's not fair that Aunt May had died trying to protect them, had stood up to the Goblin by herself to keep Lena safe, only to meet such a cruel fate.

God. How is she going to tell her therapist about stuff that, according to the rest of the world, didn't even happen?

"Do you need a place to stay?" Lena asks. "We have an extra room. It's kind of small, and it's mostly used for storage right now, but we can clear it out."

Peter hesitates almost like he's going to decline the offer. Then he'd make some excuse about how he's fine, that she doesn't have to go through the trouble, even though it would be no trouble at all. Not when it's him. She would move out of her own bedroom and sleep on the sofa if it meant keeping him comfortable.

Instead, he nods. "Yeah, that would be great. I gotta figure out how to... you know... get my feet back under me."

She rubs her thumb along the back of his hand, silently telling him she's proud of him. Leaning forward, she presses her lips to his forehead.

Graham chugs his coffee like it's about to run away from him. After he's gulped the entire thing down despite it's still-too-hot-for-a-normal-person-to-drink temperature, he scoots out of the booth and tells them, "Gonna get another."

They're gonna get through this. Together. One step at a time.

-♕-

It's weird, trying to untangle the threads of a life you don't remember.

The spell had filled in the blanks for the past few months, rewriting history as it may have happened if Mysterio's video had never existed. Lena finds posts on her social media accounts that are foreign to her. Apparently, she and Peter, as President and VP of Midtown Tech's Robotics club, had led their team to a state-level victory last month. She and Cindy had countless sleepovers.

There are little signs that remain of the real past, though. Lena finds the circlet from Keanu sitting on her dresser and nearly sobs with relief, amazed that something physical had withstood the spell. Meanwhile, the file she'd received from Tony is nowhere to be found. She almost tears apart her room in an effort to find it, but just as death is permanent, so is destroying something with her powers.

It aches knowing that she'd annihilated the file for nothing. Maybe the authorities would have found it, but even then, would it have mattered? If they could have performed the spell anyway, nobody would remember its existence.

It's not the information she's upset about losing— even if she didn't have the entire file committed to memory, she could still head to the lab and ask FRIDAY to retrieve the saved data. What causes the most pain is the thought of never seeing the notes Tony had handwritten or the physical objects he'd once held. She's lost another piece of him.

Lena blows a puff of air through her cheeks. If she dwells on all of the downsides of this new chance at life, she'll only wind up in a pit of despair, so she decides to keep focusing on the positives.

Like how she'd gotten into Cornell.

Ironically, the way she finds out isn't through seeing an acceptance letter in her inbox. It's a Discord server she's apparently a part of for upcoming students. People are talking about how anxious they were about early decisions coming out, what they're planning on majoring in, and who will be their roommate.

In this alternate version of her life where the fall had been normal, she had found a potential roommate already. The girl's username hits Lena like a punch to the gut: @gwenstacy.

Peter 3's words echo in her mind like she's hearing them for the first time. "I lost... I lost Gwen. My, uh... She was my Lena. I couldn't save her. I'm never gonna be able to forgive myself for that."

He'd told her that, in his universe, Lena and Gwen were both friends and internship partners at Oscorp. Do some bonds stretch across universes? It's almost like this was fate, like she and Gwen were always going to find each other at some point. Kind of like how she, Graham, and Peter had all joined forces in the other realities as well.

Lena inhales slowly before scrolling through their conversation. A few snippets stick out to her.

gwen <3: this is so random but i think you're so cool

gwen <3: like i feel like i know you even though we've never met in person ???

gwen <3: and it's so easy to talk to you !!! i hope we do end up being roommates even though we still have like a year before that'll happen. i was scared to go into this alone and that i'd be stuck with a horrible roommate but i can already tell that we're gonna be great friends :)

She goes to Instagram and finds that she's already following Gwen's account. She's beautiful, with blonde hair, bangs, and according to her pictures with other people, a tiny frame. Lena finds herself laughing at the thought of what they'd look like standing next to each other. Gwen's feed is full of posts about her passions— caring for her plants, her school clubs and their accomplishments, volunteer opportunities, and science. Lena looks at her smiling face in one of her photos and wonders how Peter 3 would react to the knowledge that Gwen is alive and well in this universe.

Even though she won't be moving away to college until next August, she still finds herself making a promise. If she and Gwen end up being roommates, she's going to keep her out of all the superhero stuff. It feels like the least she can do for Peter 3. Here, she's going to do whatever she can to keep Gwen's life unbearably normal.

And then realization hits her. She finds herself muttering, "Fuck."

She got into Cornell. One of the requirements for graduation is taking and passing a swim class, and if she's going to get that credit, she should probably start getting over her fear now.

Lena practically collapses onto her desk chair and opens her laptop, hurriedly typing "swim classes near me" into the search bar.

-♕-

"No, that's an 'S', not an 'A'. Don't cross your thumb over your fingers."

Lena groans dramatically, throwing her head into her lap like a child. It's embarrassing that it's taking her so long to learn how to sign her name without mistakes.

"— tantrum — not — solve anything."

She reluctantly sits up straight in her chair again, if only to read the words coming out of Clint Barton's mouth, not because she's any less frustrated. She'd gotten his contact information through Bruce and asked for his help in learning American Sign Language. Since he'd also lost hearing due to the unfortunate circumstances involved with being a superhero, she figured he'd be the best teacher, even if they haven't spent much one-on-one time together before now.

Feeling spiteful today, Lena gives him a blank stare and signs something she does know by heart: scooping one hand outward from her chin and then pinching her index and ring finger together, moving that same hand to the right. Fuck off.

Clint appears unimpressed yet mildly amused. He signs as he talks to further expose her to the language, asking, "Where'd you learn that?"

"Internet," Lena replies with a shrug. "I know lots of swears." She demonstrates said knowledge by signing, Eat shit and die.

"But you can't even sign your own name."

"I'm getting there!"

"Then try again."

It's fine when she goes slowly, but as Clint encourages her to speed up, her hands stop listening to her brain and start moving of their own accord. She ends up saying that her name is Lems Asmtos more times than she cares to admit. But eventually, she finally accomplishes that simple sentence and feels like she's just climbed up a mountain.

"It's gonna be difficult," Clint tells her. "If you want, you can try getting a hearing aid. That will probably be your best bet since you most often work in a team. If you wear a comm in your good ear, you won't be able to hear what's going on around you."

"I don't think I can afford a hearing aid," Lena replies sourly with a mental curse at the American healthcare system.

But maybe she can— eventually. She can find a job; lots of places are hiring since the winter holidays are coming up. Maybe she can ask MJ if her cafe is looking for employees. And with the Stark Scholarship that Tony had left her for college, her tuition will be covered, so all that's left to pay is room and board, supplies, and her meal plan. Her parents could use some of the money they'd planned to put toward tuition for this instead. She might be able to afford one by... February? That means two months without one.

"You look like Bruce when you do that," Clint says, snapping Lena out of her thoughts. "Being all mathy in your head."

"I could probably get one by February," she says as she pulls out her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Seeing if my friend MJ can ask her boss to give me a job."

"Jesus." Clint rubs at his temples. "Kid, you have Avengers on speed dial. We can probably find a way to get you a hea—"

"No, I wanna do this myself." She already feels indebted to Tony for shelling out money to pay for her tuition. She doesn't want to feel like the Avengers are her sugar parents.

After she sends the text to MJ, she looks up to see Clint giving her a look of respect. A small smile plays on his mouth before he slouches back in his seat.

"I still recommend learning ASL even if you do get that hearing aid," he says, tapping his own once he finishes signing the sentence. "We can keep meeting and going over stuff, but you can also learn a lot from videos. You've already seemed to have found some of them."

Lena grins and signs, Asshole.

Dumbass, Clint signs back.

-♕-

Of course, Lena bangs her hip on the counter as she passes it. She yelps in pain and stumbles into the sofa with the box in her hands obscuring her vision.

"Careful," Graham says, moving around her uncaringly with two larger boxes. "You don't want Peter's underwear to go flying."

"That is not my underwear," Peter corrects him. "You're the one holding it."

Graham turns around, walking backwards into the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. "Wow, Peter, you should at least ask me on a date first."

Ignoring him, Peter comes to Lena's rescue after her debilitating hip injury. He places a hand on her waist and straightens her up, asking, "You okay?"

"Yeah." She grits her teeth. "Just feels like I've been shot."

"Get over it, weenie," Max says. "And get outta the way."

He and Owen are carrying Peter's mattress, more or less butting everything else out of the way as they make a beeline for the spare bedroom. Lena and her parents had spent the entirety of yesterday cleaning it out, causing the living room to be filled with junk. It's utter chaos right now as both families work together to move Peter in.

He doesn't have anything to do because everyone had forced him to take it easy. One of Ma's side jobs is to smack Peter upside the head if he tries to reach for something, or even just to glare at him from afar. The Immigrant Mother Stare is so intense that it always activates his Spider Senses and makes him stop.

He seems restless without a task to keep him busy, watching the Santos/Rivera and Seager families carry all of his belongings from the U-Haul parked in the street, up the stairs, and into the apartment. Noticing how antsy he looks, Lena looks over her shoulder and asks, "Peter, where do you want us to build your bed frame?"

Peter gives her a grateful look and a kiss on the cheek when he joins her in the doorway. He observes the disordered room for a moment, with boxes labeled with Sharpie stacked high, his desk and chair shoved against the closet for the time being, and Pa kneeling on the floor with a drill in his hand, awaiting instructions. "Um... you can just put it against the far wall... yeah, right there, thank you."

Graham decides to save several seconds of time by shadow traveling throughout the apartment, scaring the wits out of anyone who happens to be nearby. At least he'd gotten to tell his parents about his powers the normal way this time. He'd told her how he'd showed them the journal his grandfather had left him containing explanations and advice about their powers. Judging by the way Mrs. Seager clutches her chest every time he emerges from the shadows right in front of her, she's not used to it yet.

It's pitch-black outside once the room is finished. All of Peter's things are unpacked, the drawers of his dresser are full of clothes, his walls are covered in Star Wars posters and photos, and it's beginning to look more like an actual home for him. Lena knows that nothing will replace the family he's lost, but hopefully this will be better than him being shipped off to a random family member until he turns eighteen or entering the foster care system.

Their journey isn't over. There's still a matter of attorneys to go over what assets of May's will go to Peter. There will be a long process of adjusting to this new life for both of them. But, surrounded by people who love him, he'll never have to go through it alone.

Exhausted after the move, the families pile up in Lena's living room, stuffed with a homemade meal from Ma and Pa, watching a movie. Lena is curled up into Peter with a Wonder Woman blanket draped over both of their laps. She glances around the dim room, lit only by a few Christmas-themed candles, and takes in the sight of Graham passed out on a chair, the twins throwing popcorn at each other, Mr. and Mrs. Seager laughing at a joke one of the characters made, and her parents, who had welcomed Peter into their home without question when he needed it most.

She used to be terrified that they'd discover the secret of her powers. It seems like forever ago when Peter had brought a half-conscious Lena back to this apartment and met Ma and Pa for the first time. Back then, she'd had no idea that so much would change, or that Peter would mean so much to her.

Lena remembers something. She turns to Peter, causing him to look at her, the candlelight reflecting in his dark eyes.

"I didn't get to say it back. Before the spell," she whispers. "I love you, too."

END OF ACT FOUR.

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a/n:

lena thinking about all of the things going rampant in her head while she's on the edge of a breakdown:

HOLY SHIT. HOOOLLLLYYYY SHITTTTTT. it's over???? it's over. it's ........ over ???¿¿

i have been writing this series for a whopping six years. i started it immediately after homecoming debuted in theaters, unpublished it, then brought it back in time for infinity war in april 2018. i have been writing about these characters for a LONG time and i'm so grateful to have grown with them. thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading and following graham and lena throughout their journey. if you've been here for two days or several years, i can't thank you enough for making it this far.

i started this series when i was freshly sixteen and now i'm 22. it's CRAZY to think about who i was back then vs who i am now and how grateful i am to have been with these characters for that long <3

i am marking this series as complete. even though there are supposed to be more spider-man movies with tom, it's unclear when that will happen, as writing processes have not even begun. i would be happy to write more about lena and graham's journey, but as i'm not sure how much longer i will be on wattpad, i don't want to make any promises. this is not an announcement that i plan on leaving any time soon, but since the movies are at least a few years out, i'm not planning anything definitively, especially with this alternate ending.

THAT BEING SAID ! i have a special bonus chapter coming up for you guys, so the book won't be marked as officially complete until that is up. i plan on grinding and getting it done within the next few days. i'm super excited for you guys to read it!

thank you thank you thank you !!!!

— kristyn