TW: mentions of death, mentions of trauma, mentions of mental health issues

~Five years later~

Rain pelted against my living room window, framing Queens as the grey and ugly place that it had become in recent years. I sat by the open window, my jumper wrapped tightly around my shivering body as I sucked the cigarette smoke into my lungs before moving the cigarette from my lips and blowing the smoke out of my window. I repeated the action as I looked over the streets of my home city, the one that I used to love but now couldn't wait to escape. I had been trying to escape since the death of Spider-Man, five years ago. Well, everyone had assumed that he had died after he had stopped showing up to stop crimes, but no one really knew what had actually happened to him. Since Spider-Man had disappeared, crime in Queens had slowly but steadily gotten worse, up until the point where you were called stupid for leaving your house without a loaded gun. I sighed and breathed out the last breath of cigarette smoke before putting it out on the windowsill. I shut the window, my body shivering as the cold air seemed to have penetrated every fibre of my being, the chill going directly to my bones. I walked to my sofa and sat down, my hands pulling my boots onto my feet as I started to get ready. As if on cue, my phone started to vibrate on the cushion next to me, showing my best friend's name and face. I rolled my eyes at her impatience as I picked the phone up and put it to my ear.

"Hang on, hang on, I was getting ready and then got a sudden craving for a smoke." I shrugged, holding the phone between my shoulder and my cheek so that I could pull my other boot on.

"I thought that you'd stopped smoking." She scoffed.

"I know that that's what I said, Blake, but it takes twenty-one days to break a habit, I've only been not smoking for a week." I returned.

"Babe, that twenty-one days doesn't work if you start smoking again?!" she exclaimed. I rolled my eyes as I stood up and grabbed my bag.

"Whatever, dude. I'm leaving now, I'll be there in ten minutes." I mumbled as I opened my front door and walked out of my apartment.

"I'll hold you to that." She replied. I rolled my eyes once more and hung up, not bothering to say 'goodbye' to her as I locked my front door. I looked up and down the hallway like I always did. My eyes wavered as May Parker stood at her door, unlocking it whilst holding a paper bag of groceries. She looked up at me and gave me a small smile as she did. I hesitantly returned it, tears pricking my eyes as she opened her front door and disappeared into her apartment. That was someone else that I hadn't seen in five years. Peter Parker. After MJ's death, Peter had quickly broken his promise of us going through it together, not that I could blame him. But whilst I had drowned my sorrows in school work and college applications, Peter had started to drown his in liquor bottles, fights, and pills. After only a month or so, Peter dropped out of high school completely and dropped out of the Stark Internship too, leaving it to the imagination what had happened to him, past having potentially died. Though, I hoped that he was still alive. After all, he had been as close to me as MJ had been, and so it had hurt when he had chosen to get high and drunk over letting me help him get through it. I couldn't blame him, though. I sighed, shaking my head and ridding my mind of the depressing thoughts as I headed down the stairs on my way to my daily coffee date with Blake. I headed down to the lobby and out of the doors, sighing as walking through my home city every day was a painful reminder of the superhero that we once had, and that we had now lost. I walked along the streets as I tried to drown out the sounds of crying and yelling, the distant wailing of sirens meaning fuck all anymore in Queens. The people had stopped taking the police seriously a long time ago, it just took us losing Spider-Man to realise that he had become our main way of stopping crime. I walked up to the coffee cart, smiling at Blake as I walked to her before looking up at Danny.

"Danny, how's it going?" I smiled at the blond man.

"Eh, you know how it is. Your usual?" he asked.

"Please." I nodded before turning to Blake.

"I ought to confiscate your cigarettes now." She teased, making me roll my eyes at her.

"I'm here now, aren't I? And I've still got ten minutes until I'm officially late for work." I shrugged.

"Yeah, but your boss is a misogynistic ass who is looking for any reason to fire you, don't give him a reason." She scoffed.

"True." I nodded as I got my carton of cigarettes out and took one out.

"Come on, seriously?!" Blake exclaimed.

"What?! Look, I know that it's an awful habit, but I'm under a lot of stress right now." I mumbled as I lit the cigarette.

"Oh, yeah? With what?" she scoffed. I sighed and looked at her as I removed the cigarette from in between my lips.

"Next week marks five years since MJ died." I admitted. Her eyes widened.

"Shit, Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't realise that that was next week." She gulped. I waved her off as I grabbed the coffee from Danny and gave him the money.

"Blake's right, you know. Those things will kill you." He spoke as he nodded to the cigarette in between my fingers.

"Best way to go, though. Your own way, I mean." I shrugged.

"Nah. You're far too pretty to die young." He smiled. I returned it, biting my lip as I took the coffee, and Blake and I started to walk. She looked over her shoulder at Danny.

"Dude, Danny is after you. You see that, right?" she smirked.

"Course I do. I mean, sure, he's nice, but he's not my type." I shrugged.

"Not your type? So, gorgeous guys aren't your type? Are you gay or something? No judgement, obviously, I just want to know who to set you up with." She spoke, making me chuckle and shake my head.

"I don't mind who you set me up with, but Danny just isn't my type. Maybe it's the blond hair. I don't know, the closest guy to being my type was my best friend back in high school, Peter. But he was dating MJ and I wasn't going to stop that, and then everything happened, so..." I sighed, my words trailing off as I lost the strength to speak. Blake nodded and looked at me.

"You know, MJ won't spin in her grave if you move on with your life. I fully get that you want to remember her, but you dropped out of college, got a job working for a prick and stayed in the same apartment that you've always lived in, for what? To stay close to her?" she scoffed.

"Blake, I don't know. It just doesn't feel right living my full life when hers got cut short. I can't explain it." I sighed and shook my head. She returned it and nodded, both of us slowing down as we got to the Queens Daily press building.

"I'll see you later." I nodded, stamping out my cigarette as I headed towards the double glass doors.

"Have a bearable day, and don't let your boss treat you like shit!" She called after me.

"I always don't!" I teased, making her roll her eyes playfully before walking away. I sighed and sipped on my coffee as I walked through the lobby and to the elevator, on the way up to the job that I had learned to hate.

I sat at my desk, typing my notes out and getting started on various articles that I'd been assigned.

"Y/N." I looked up and forced a smile onto my lips as my boss walked towards my cubicle.

"Yes, Mr Jameson." I sighed.

"I have a story that I want you to cover. An old woman's house got broken into last week and her son got murdered by the burglars. She claims that the police are doing fuck all about it, but that's what you get for having a deadbeat son." He mumbled as he looked at the file in his hand. I scoffed and put my tongue into my cheek, determined to not get myself fired by saying something that I wouldn't regret, but Mr Jameson would kick me out on my ass for.

"Where does she live?" I asked as I grabbed a pen and my notebook.

"Seventh Avenue, down by the old gay bar." He spoke. I looked back up at him.

"But that's the bad part of town." I scoffed. He shrugged and returned my look.

"So?" he asked. I squinted my eyes at him.

"So, I think that you should send Robbie or Liam instead-."

"What, so that a guy can get attacked instead of you? I thought that you were a feminist." He scoffed.

"I am, that's why I'm suggesting that you send a guy to a part of town where a woman is five times more likely to get assaulted or killed than a man is." I nodded. He rolled his eyes and waved me off as he started to walk away from my desk.

"Those figures are bullshit." He stated.

"They're official police statistics!" I yelled after him, sighing again as he walked back into his office and shut the door. I grumbled to myself as I grabbed my bag and stood up, figuring that I'd rather get assaulted sooner rather than later if I had to be. Robbie looked up at me as I started to pass his cubicle.

"Y/N, you're not actually going, are you? You said yourself that you're more likely to be attacked than either Liam or I are." He scoffed. I sighed and shrugged as I perched myself against the man's desk.

"What choice do I have?" I replied.

"I'll go." He nodded.

"No, Robbie, seriously, it's okay. He's looking for a reason to fire me anyway, I'm not going to give it to him by making you switch with me." I shook my head. He sighed and looked at me.

"Do you at least have something to protect yourself with?" he asked.

"Yeah, I have pepper spray in my bag." I nodded.

"That's not what I mean." He shook his head before looking around cautiously and opening his desk drawer. He pulled out a handgun, making my eyes widen as he put it on the desk.

"Robbie, do you have a licence for that?" I gulped.

"Of course I fucking do, I'd get arrested if I was caught with it and I didn't. Take it to protect yourself with." He nodded as he slid it towards me. I gulped again and looked between him and the weapon.

"But I'm not licenced, if cops caught me with it, I'd be arrested-."

"And if thugs catch you without it, you're assaulted, or worse. Take it. Please." He insisted. I sighed and bit my lip as I quickly took the gun and shoved it into my bag before anyone saw.

"Of course, you wouldn't need a gun at all if Spider-Man was still here." Robbie sighed as he pushed his chair back to his computer. My eyes wavered at the comment and I returned the sigh as I stood up from his desk and headed out of the office.