Authors Note:
Now, I know that Far From Home is coming outside soon and the trailer did highlight that Peter is trying to come to terms with" losing Tony, but there's only so much run time that movies can dedicate to this issue before it needs to be resolved and I feel like there's so much more that can be said and I wanna try to show my view along with my love for great characters like Peter Parker.

(Update: 1/6/22)
This was initially meant to be a post Endgame/pre FFH fic but the premise still works for NWH. Honestly I think it's the perfect canvas of potential for Peter and all his unprocessed trauma lbvs.

So... I hope you guys enjoy! ~athens 💙

Incessant knocking on one's bedroom door is an inherently unpleasant way to be woken up when you'd never really gone to sleep to begin with. There was an aching in the back of the skull and a wetness in Peter Parker's eyes that hadn't been there when he'd fallen asleep; it had become something of a common occurrence these days.

"Parker you in there," The boy let out a pathetic whine and turned with a weak flump to peer apathetically at the ceiling.

The ceiling that was not the popcorn texture of his bedroom.

He fell asleep on his couch again... Why was that not surprising?

The knocking started up again. Louder this time, and Peter wiggled weakly to wrestle his phone out from where it had wedged between his hip and the cushion of his (alley-bought) couch.

Through squinted eyes, he brought his phone up to his face to check the time.

10:50AM

The widening of Peter's eyes was near comical as he shot up on the couch, looking on the verge of hyperventilating.  "Oh no, oh no, oh no..."

"Look, Peter, I've been trying to contact you for a week. I know you've been screening my calls,"

Shit. shit.

s h i t.

"I try to give grace to my tenants, okay.... And I know you snap folks are still readjusting, but I've got to make a living too."

Oh, man. Not the first day. He thought he was over this. "Whyyyyy," He shifted a tad too much during his freak out, dropping to the floor with a loud thud. If his landlord didn't know he was there, the cat was out of the bag now.

"Yo Parker? Isn't it enough that you ignore my calls." And there was a reason that he was ignoring those calls; At this point in his life, confrontation is a "No"for Peter. If he had it his way, his landlord would conveniently forget that last few minutes and go about his day so that Peter didn't have to open his front door. But the growing frustration in his voice made Peter nervous about much worse percussion. Getting an apartment after the snap was no easy feat and he'd like to keep it.

Hefting himself up from the floor, Peter crept to his bedroom door and opened it with a pained grimace. He couldn't bring himself to meet his the taller black man's eye as he stood with crossed arms in the entryway.

"Heeeey Aaron..."

You know, the weather outside was gorgeous for a day out in the city. Pete really wished he had a moment to take it all in: The sun slowly reaching its peak in the sky while, traffic settles down in volume now that the majority of its frequenters resided in school or work, and he could just visualize the steady breeze that would stir the tree leaves and caress the wings of birds in flight. No doubt, the fur of animals needing a gentle cool from the sun's rays.
It was picturesque and peaceful. A stark contrast to the tension building inside his apartment.

"Peter." At the firm tone of the building manager's voice, Peter looked away from the window. He didn't look angry. That must mean he has something going for him— was that a sigh.

Aaron's chest heaved with a heavy, leadened sigh.

Sighs. Not a good sign Pete. Anger would be preferable.

"Peter, I'm going to keep this short and to the point."
"Aaron I—
"Ah-ah let me talk."

Peter closed his mouth slowly and averted his eyes.

"Friday." What?
"I'm giving you until Friday to pay your rent, or I'm going to have to evict you, Peter."

Annnd the panic was setting back in, "But Aaron I-

"No, Peter. That's it. Frankly, my wife says even this is being too kind after you've been off all attempts to contact you for 2 weeks. I try to give you some grace Peter —I don't know why a kid your age is living alone— but there's still a general level of respect you need to give in return, and it's been lacking."

His landlord's tone was firm and unwavering, matching the set look in his eyes, "Now, I've got to put my foot down. You'll have the whole day Friday to pay your rent —i'm not an asshole— but once it hits 12 o'clock, your time is up cinderella. Your fairy godmother has met her wish quota this month."

Somewhere amidst the lecture. Peter's voice had curled in itself, shriveled up, and died leaving a hollow tomb of silence, but he still managed to muster up a week nod in response.

At a sign of acknowledgment, Aaron sighed again, a much lighter sound this time, and patted Peter gently on the shoulder. "You're a good kid, Parker. And smart as a whip from the few conversations I've had with you," Peter just barely smiled at the compliment but it felt phony. "Maybe you're just not being challenged enough or you're going through a rough patch, but I know you're better than this."

Was he though? Disappointment and disaster appeared to be what Peter was best these days. How fitting to keep the cycle going...

"Thanks Mr. Thomas."

"I mean it kid. You could do great things if you put your mind to it."

Like becoming a blue and red crusader, perhaps?

"I- I'm trying to. Honestly."

"But are you, Parker? Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that you are living up to your potential? That you are accomplishing the goals you've set for yourself and managing your responsibilities?"

Was fighting with the Avengers— saving the WORLD not enough!?

Why did Peter Parker have to be exceptional too when Spiderman already had so many responsibilities? Had he not sacrificed enough?

He stayed silent.

The disappointment was back in Aaron's as his hands dropped and he stepped away from Peter, "Well now you have an opportunity to prove me wrong... Friday. Alright?"

"Alright."

"Great."

The door closing in front of his face felt like being woken from a daze as the last few minutes settled in. Shit. He was going to be homeless. Again.

Peter couldn't be homeless. Spiderman couldn't be homeless. He didn't want to avoid Aaron but it's embarrassing to admit that you barely have enough money to eat after being fired from too many jobs to count due to tardiness.

Since the Avengers (basically) disbanded it's like the demand for Spiderman had tripled. He barely slept and when he did it was after staying up all night or in the middle of the day. Hence the crashing on the couch.

And even then, the rest he did get felt like sleeping on rocks since his mental state had taken a plunge into the metaphorical deep end.

It wasn't just Spiderman, or Tony, or even May. But something deeper disturbing his psyche. It was about his parents (that he lost too young truly grieve) and Uncle Ben... It was Ned and MJ and everything else he'd lost in his life from being Spiderman and Peter Parker. He thought he'd come to terms to what happened to him but now he wasn't so sure. It hurt. It hurt in a way that threatened to become all consuming. It hurt in a way that he wasn't prepared to process on his own.

He was just a kid. And after Thanos and the passing of Tony Stark, he'd become all too cognizant of this fact.

He'd sacrificed so much to be Spiderman and one of those sacrifices happened to be Peter himself.

He needed this apartment. Right now, it was the only sense of stability he'd had since his identity was exposed and then wiped from existence.

And even if wasn't the luxurious place to live, and he was barely scraping by... And there was no May... It's still a more preferable fate to sleeping on the streets after patrolling through the city.

"Well, Pete," he heaved a similar sigh to the one Aaron had given.

"Time to find another job."