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No Way Home

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Febuwhump Prompt - Can't Go Home

Prompt - ‘Just you and me.’

You sat frozen in your apartment, eyes trained on the television screen in front of you that broadcasted Peter’s secret to the world, branding him a murderer, all because of Mysterio. You had no idea just how long you sat there, eyes wide and you had every intention of calling Peter but you couldn’t move. It was the sound of your apartment door being kicked open that startled you out of your frozen state, face shooting over to the side as a group of men came in and hauled you up by your upper arms, fear spreading through you as you were placed in a police car and taken to the station.

You arrived and were led to a reception with MJ, Ned and May before being pulled along through the station, eyes widening as you saw Peter sat at a table, two men questioning him.

It was like time wasn’t real as you were pushed into your own seat and left alone, scared and panicking.

Two men walked into the room and you sat up straighter in your seat, watching as they shared a smile, one of them sat opposite you whilst the other paced behind him.

“Hi there,” The man sat down said to you, softening his expression, “Sorry about the wait.” He waited for you to respond but silence filled the room. “I know you must be so scared right now, finding out your boyfriend is Spider-Man.” Again, no response, no twitching, no shifting…nothing.

You were scared but you weren’t about to give them any information that would help build a case against Peter or yourself.

“Let’s cut the quiet act, huh,” The guy standing up said, leaning over you in an intimidating manner…good cop, bad cop then. “We know you knew Peter was Spider-Man and you’re a smart kid, set up for your choice of school, how do you think this is going to look for you?”

“You want me to talk?” You finally said, watching them share another smile as the guy in the seat leaned forward and picked up his pen whilst the other man backed off, turning his smile to you. “I want a lawyer.”

You watched as both their smiles fell and twin glares were shot at you but you just smiled back at them.

“You think any lawyer worth a damn is going to take this case?” The man stood up chuckled, “I hate to break it to you but you’re on your own.”

“If this goes to trial it’ll be the biggest case since the Castle trials, bet those cops didn’t think any lawyer would take that case either.” You smirked and sat back in your seat, knowing they had nothing on you. “Maybe I’ll give those guys a call, huh?”

You watched as they shared a look before the door opened and they were pulled out leaving you alone again causing you to slump in your seat, though the overall fear had gone there was still worry flooding your system as you thought about Peter.

“Looks like you won’t be needing that number after all,” The man said as he stood by the door gesturing for you to walk out, “You’re free to go.”

You huffed out a laugh as you walked past him and headed to where the others were sitting in the reception area, the only person missing was Peter.

“Is he ok?” You asked as you joined them, watching as they all looked up at you.

“We haven’t seen him, Happy called a pair of lawyers that went in not too long ago.” MJ told you as May sniffed.

“Shit,” You cursed as you sat down heavily in the seat, staring straight ahead.

You let May hug Peter first when he was led out before smiling as he turned to you. No words were exchanged as he looked at you with wide, watery eyes, walking over and wrapping his arms around you tightly pulling you against him. You sniffed as you hugged him back, not knowing what to say.

“At least they used a good picture.” Happy said with a grimace as you, him, Peter and May sat in their apartment, you sitting next to Peter.

“I have some good news, Peter,” The lawyer, Matt Murdock said and you wished the DODC guy was here so you could rub it in his face that the lawyer who took Frank Castle’s case was here taking Peter’s, just like you’d threatened. “I don’t believe any of the charges against you are going to stick.”

A collective sigh of relief went around the room and you all smiled and relaxed for the first time since the news hit.

“Oh my god,” Peter said, smiling over at you before turning back to Matt, “Really? Thank you so much, Mr Murdock, really, that’s amazing.”

“You’re welcome.” Matt said with a smile of his own. You listened as he explained that Happy wasn’t quite so lucky what with the missing Stark tech.

“I need a lawyer because I’m, I’m under investigation?” Happy stuttered out causing you to smile sympathetically over at him, “You said there’s no charges - I can say under advisement of council I refuse to answer the question,” He trailed off inaudibly as he spiralled into a panic.

“Calm down,” May told him before she pointed to Matt, “Let’s see what he has to say.”

“You’re gonna need a really good lawyer.” Matt told him honestly.

Before anybody could say anything else you startled as a brick was thrown through the window, watching with wide eyes as the blind lawyer caught it without hesitation before furrowing your brows as you looked from the brick to him, seeing Peter do the same.

“How did you do that?” You asked him as Peter took the brick out of his hand, looking at it like it could give him the answer to your question.

“I’m a really good lawyer.” Matt smiled and gave no further explanation.

“We’re gonna need a safer place to live.” May said and it wasn’t long before the Parker’s had packed up and were ready to head to Happy’s apartment.

“You should come,” Peter said, “I don’t like the thought of you on your own.”

“I’ll be fine.” You promised him, leaning up to press a soft kiss against his lips, smiling into it as his hand came up to cup your cheek. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” He said before climbing into the car with May and Happy, you raising a hand as they drove away before turning in the direction of your house.

The following days passed in a blur of rejection letters, cameras being shoved in your face, people at school all wanting as many details as they could get and anger, sadness and worry. Peter and you talked on the phone at nights but it was strained, the weight of the world crushing his shoulders.

You smiled at Ned and MJ who were waiting outside of the Sanctum before you entered, your eyes immediately locking on Peter who stepped forward and wrapped you in his arms, kissing the top of your head.

“I can’t believe I’m in the Sanctum Sanctorum.” You heard Ned say happily.

“Neither can I.” Strange muttered to himself, causing you to chuckle into Peter’s chest before you pulled away from him.

“I’m sorry for dragging you all into this,” Peter apologised looking from Ned and MJ and then to you, eyes wide and apologetic.

“Happy to help.” You assured him, smiling softly at him with a nod as the other two agreed with you.

“You don’t have to apologise.” MJ told him.

“Yeah man, no worries,” Ned said, “Hey, how did the bad guys even get here?”

“He screwed up a spell trying to get you into college.” Strange said before Peter had a chance to answer, causing your eyebrows furrowed together.

“What?” You all asked.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not important,” Peter brushed it off before smiling, “Let’s just focus on the good news-”

“No, let's focus on the bad news because as of now you have detained exactly zero multiverse trespassers.” Strange commanded you all to get to work and you smiled as MJ stepped forward and put the man in his place before Peter led you down to the undercroft.

You watched as MJ and Ned began looking around the room as you walked further into it, listening to Peter apologise again as you looked at a man with robotic arms trapped behind a glass wall.

He saw you looking and smiled over at you, watching as you tilted your head and took another step closer until you were in front of the cell.

“And just who are you, dear?” He asked as Peter spoke in the distance.

“Guys, about this whole spell thing-” He began but MJ cut him off.

“It’s ok, you were just trying to fix things, maybe just run it past us next time.” She chuckled, causing him to laugh nervously before he nodded and looked past her and over to you.

MJ followed his gaze and pointed over in your direction, “The undercroft?”

“We’re here to help Peter.” You told the man, looking at the metal arms in interest.

“Hey man, I’m sorry,” Peter called, causing you to flinch away from the man as you looked back at Peter, “what was your name again?”

“Doctor Otto Octavius.” He said, causing you to look back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I think he meant your real name.” You smiled at him, suppressing a chuckle as the others behind you laughed.

“Yeah man, seriously, your real name.” Peter confirmed, smiling over at you.

Otto just rolled his eyes and you made your way back up to join MJ, Ned and Peter, looking over at Ned who called you all over about a disturbance relating to a monster flying through the air.

“That has to be the guy right?” Peter said looking up at you causing you to shrug and nod at the same time before looking over at Otto.

“That’s impossible.” He said softly, more to himself than to the room.

“What’d you mean impossible?” You asked him, taking a step over to him again.

“You know him, don’t you?” Peter asked from your side.

“Norman Osborn, brilliant scientist, but he was greedy, misguided.” The man said.

“I gotta go then, where am I going?” Peter asked turning back to Ned after Otto’s outburst but you continued looking at the man trapped behind the glass.

“It can’t be him.” He told you, causing you to frown, tilting your head.

“Why can’t it be Norman?” You asked.

“Because Norman Osborn died years ago, so either we saw someone else or you’re flying out into the darkness to find a ghost.” He said coldly, your heart stuttering as you swallowed against the sudden lump in your throat, turning to Peter with scared eyes.

“You can’t go,” you told him as he prepared to leave.

“Y/N, I am the only person who can stop these guys,” He said turning to you and placing his hands on your upper arms, watching as you shook your head at him, “Y/N, baby, I gotta do this, I can’t have people get hurt because of me.”

You took a deep breath before nodding and turning away.

“Hey,” He said softly, stepping closer to you and leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips, “I’ll be fine.” He promised though you knew he had no control over that, didn’t know who he was dealing with or how dangerous they were but still you nodded and forced a smile on your face as he turned to leave.

Once he was gone you took a deep breath and let the smile fall off your face as you turned back to Otto.

“How dangerous is he? Norman Osbourn.” You asked him and watched as he contemplated your question.

“He will stop at nothing to get what he wants, like I said,” He told you, watching as you walked up to the glass. “He was brilliant, brilliant but dangerously greedy. I hope your Spider-Man can stop him.” He said, looking down at you as you tried your best to blink back tears as you heard Ned and MJ talking to Peter over the phone.

“Me too.” You said, dread pooling in your stomach.

You listened anxiously, watching the scene play out on the laptop, watching as a man used the electricity like it was a part of him, easily drawing power from it as Peter’s webs failed to do anything. You watched the man send electricity down to Peter, tears in your eyes as you hand covered your mouth, listening to Ned and MJ shout advice at Peter.

The last thing you saw before the camera cut out was a blast of electricity hitting Peter.

“Oh no, no, what happened? Peter, Peter?” MJ said as you shook your head and moved away from the laptop and over to the ledge to look at the glass cells.

“Who is that?” You snapped at Otto but one look at his confused face had more anxiety running through you as you choked back a sob.

“I don’t know,” He told you quietly, “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

You watched as a man appeared in one of the glass cells, watched as Otto waved over to him.

“Who are you?” You asked him but before he could answer something appeared in the other cell. He looked like a person but where flesh was meant to be was only sand.

“What is this?” He asked and you looked over to MJ and Ned who shrugged.

“Connors?” The first guy said looking over at the lizard thing.

“You know him?” You asked, looking between the two just as Otto asked, “You know this creature?”

“No, no he’s not a creature, he’s a man.” You shot a doubtful look at the lizard as Ned spoke behind you.

“Whoa, they're from the same universe.”

“Doctor Curt Connors, he was a scientist at Oscorp when I worked there. A brilliant scientist until he turned himself into a lizard. Then he tried to turn the whole city into lizards, it was crazy.”

“Yeah, we’re hearing a lot about brilliant but crazy scientists today.” You scoffed, giving the lizard a side glance.

The two went back and forth as you looked between them and shook your head turning back to the only two people in the room from your universe.

“Have you got a hold of Peter yet?” You asked and Ned shook his head.

“Still working on it.” He told you, clicking away at the keyboard.

“Where are we?” The sandman asked.

“A wizard’s dungeon.” MJ told them, causing you to shoot her a look. “There’s no real way to sugar coat it.”

“I want more of that new energy.” The man said and you watched as the lights in the room dimmed.

“Peter!” MJ exclaimed, causing your head to shoot around as you made your way back over to Ned.

“Are you ok?” You asked before he had the chance to say anything.

“I’m fine,” He told you, “have those guys come through yet?”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re all here.” You told him, feeling your shoulders drop from hearing his voice.

“Good, listen, I’m just gonna stay here for a bit, clean up some of this mess.” He told you all and after a few more words the line went dead as you looked back over to the other worldly beings.

“Um guys,” Your head snapped around as Peter’s voice sounded through the room, another man with him, “This is Mr Osborn-”

“Doctor,” The man cut him off with a point of his finger.

“Sorry Doctor Osborn. These are my friends Ned, MJ and Y/N.” Peter introduced you all.

“It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Osborn.” You said softly, noticing the slightly dazed expression on his face.

“Mary Jane?” He said, looking straight at MJ causing you to raise an eyebrow between them before looking at Peter who shrugged.

“It’s Michelle Jones, actually.” She told him in confusion.

The man stepped closer into the room looking around as Ned asked if you thought there were other hims out there causing you to let out a laugh.

You watched Norman walk down and pause by Otto’s cell, looking into it questioningly.

“Octavius?” He asked and you all looked as Otto turned around.

“Osborn?”

You watched as Otto told Norman about his death, watched Norman shake his head in disbelief as Peter interjected, questioning Otto’s words.

“They both died.” The sand guy said, causing you all to look at him, “fighting Spider-Man.” He finished and you watched as Peter’s eyes widened. You watched as all of them realised their last memories were of fighting Spider-Man before waking up here.

Before anyone could say anything else Strange magicked himself into the room and sent a confused and scared Norman Osborn into his own cell before he explained the box he held that would send the others back to their universes.

“Strange, we can't send them back.” Peter said, causing you to look at him in confusion, you felt back for them, you really did, but you knew they couldn’t stay here. “They're gonna die.”

“It’s their fate.” Strange told him coldly. “Their sacrifice means infinitely more than their lives.”

Your eyes widened at the cruel statement as you looked back at the cells, seeing the fear written across their faces.

“I’m sorry, kid.” Strange said, no hint of sympathy in his words.

“Strange-” You began but he cut you off.

“It’s their fate,” He repeated, “they were never supposed to be here. They are destined to die at the hands of Spider-Man.”

You watched as Peter held back tears, took his hand in yours and squeezed it, him squeezing back as he looked at Strange, pleading with him not to do this. Strange began his spell, Norman begging Peter who tightened his hand around yours before he webbed the box away from Strange, you and MJ practically pushing him out the door as you stood between him and Strange.

Not long passed before Peter stumbled into the room through a golden portal, pulling the mask off as you steadied him with your arms on his biceps before Peter pulled you into a hug, grinning from ear to ear.

“I just had a fight with Doctor Strange and totally won!” He exclaimed, pulling back to smile down at you. “Look, I stole his ring thing!” He said as Ned snatched it away from him and put it on, holding his hand up to you causing you to laugh.

“You could have just left us to die, why didn’t you?” Otto asked, stepping forward.

“That’s not who Peter Parker is.” You told them man, watching as Peter’s grin faded into a soft smile.

Peter explained how he could try and help them, try to change their fate.

“I can help you.” Norman told him, cutting him off, “You know, I’m something of a scientist myself. Octavius can tell you what I can do.”

“I have it all under control.” Peter told them before he stepped over to you, MJ and Ned asking what the hell they were going to do with the box.

“We need to find somewhere safe for it right? MJ asked, causing you all to nod before Peter pushed the magic box into your hands.

“What are you doing?” You asked, not taking it off him.

“”If something happens, I’ll text you and you send them all back.” Peter told you, nodding as he looked into your eyes and seeing nothing but fear.

“Peter, I, I can’t.” You told him shakily and he reached one hand up to cup your cheek.

“Yes, you can, you got this.” He smiled before pulling you in for a quick kiss. “You got this.”

You nodded and took the box off him, holding it carefully and looking down at it like you had just been passed a bomb.

Peter pulled you into one more kiss, you whispering for him to be careful before you left the Sanctum with MJ and Ned.

You watched in Ned’s living room, listened with tears falling down your face at the news of Aunt May’s death, wiping your eyes hating that you had no idea where Peter was right now. You pushed yourself out of the chair angrily but didn’t go far, pacing the length of the room.

“Should we press it?” MJ asked, “I know he told us to wait but-”

“Press it.” You told her, voice harsh and cold.

“But Peter hasn’t texted, I just, I just wish we could see him.” Your head snapped to the side at the spark that appeared at his words.

“Ned,” You said, not taking your eyes off the empty space.

“Yeah?” He said.

“Do that again.” MJ told him, taking the words right out of your mouth.

“Yeah,” Ned repeated, “I just wish we could see him.”

You gasped as the portal began to form, Ned repeating the words a few more times before it fully appeared before you, Spider-Man standing off in the distance. You took a step forward as Spider-Man took a step towards the portal, tilting your head as you watched him get closer, looking at his suit with furrowed eyebrows.

“Is that him?” MJ asked.

“Yeah, yeah. It has to be.” He told her and they both began calling for the man with smiles on their faces.

“That’s not Peter.” You said softly, shaking your head, causing Ned and MJ to turn to you just before Spider-Man walked through the portal.

“Hi, Hi,” Spider-Man said as Ned’s grandmother screamed, “No, no, no, it’s ok. I’m a nice guy.” It wasn’t Peter’s suit, it wasn't Peter’s voice and you took a step back as the man pulled his mask off revealing a stranger.

“Who are you?” You asked him with watery eyes and a cold tone.

The stranger raised his hands non threateningly as he took a step towards you but stopped as you stepped away.

“I’m Peter Parker,” He told you slowly and calmly, “I am Spider-Man in my world, but then yesterday I was, I was just here.”

You shook your head as you turned away, the heel of your hands digging into your eyes as you tried to force the tears away, missing Peter’s look of concern.

Peter began to talk and MJ and Ned spoke to him as you could do nothing, all you wanted was your Peter.

You turned around in time to see MJ throw a piece of bread at the man, watched him stick to the ceiling, watched as he crawled around. You couldn’t argue that he was a Peter Parker but he wasn’t yours.

“We good?” Peter asked and MJ nodded. “Are you ok?” He asked you softly and you shook your head, nose scrunching as you tried to push back more tears.

“Do it again.” You said and Peter raised an eyebrow at you.

“I think I just proved who I was.” He smiled softly at you but you shook your head, not taking your eyes of Peter.

“Ned, do it again.” You pleaded, “find my Peter.”

Peter’s eyes widened at your words as he looked at your watery eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He told you as Ned agreed and lifted his hands up, repeating the words from earlier.

You turned around to watch another portal open, a sob leaving your lips as a random guy walked through it in confusion. Peter looked from the guy and back over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder comfortingly.

“Hello,” the man said, “I hope it’s okay, I just came through this…oh it just closed.”

“You’re Peter?” MJ asked.

“Yeah Peter Parker.” He said and you shook your head again, watching as the two Peter’s webbed each other before smiling.

“This might sound weird,” The regularly dressed Peter said, “but I’ve been trying to find your friend ever since I got here, I just have the sense that he, um, that he needs my help.”

“Our help.” The other one said.

“He does.” You told them shakily causing everyone to look at you, “He really does.”

“We don’t know where he is though.” Ned told them, looking between the two Peter’s.

“Right now, we’re all he has left.” MJ said and you turned away, going to leave the room before the Peter in the suit stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulders, crouching down slightly so he was eye to eye with you.

“We’re gonna help him, I promise.” Peter told you softly, so softly the others in the room had to strain to hear the words. You looked at him for a moment before you sniffed and nodded, wiping the tears that had fallen.

“Is there some place that he might go that has meaning to him?” Regularly dressed Peter asked softly as the Peter next to you stood up straight, staying by your side and offering a comforting presence. “Like a place he would just go to-”

“Get away from everything?” The suited Peter finished.

“For me it was the top of the Chrysler Building.” Regular Peter said with a fond smile.

“Empire State,” suited Peter said with a grin, “better view. What about your Peter, does he have a place?” He asked you softly, looking down at you with a smile as you nodded up at him, thinking back to the rooftop you’d spent countless hours atop of. When the world got too much for either of you and you just needed to take a break, the fresh air around you as you lay in each other’s arms, sometimes talking softly to each other, sometimes no words were needed as you sat in silence and looked up at the stars.

“Yeah,” You said softly, voice barely above a whisper, “Yeah, we have a place.” You said, missing how the Peter’s both smiled at ‘we’ rather than just Peter having a place.

It didn’t take long to make your way up to the roof, the two Peter’s hanging back and giving you three a moment alone with your Peter. You smiled shakily as you saw him sat alone, not moving as your footsteps sounded in the silence.

You made your way over to him, kneeling down and smiling shakily as he turned and buried his face into your chest, tears immediately falling from his eyes as you held him close, placing soft kisses to his hair. No words could be said as he cried, nothing could make it better.

MJ and Ned knelt down too, all three of you hugging Peter hoping to provide a little bit of comfort to the broken man.

“I’m so sorry,” You whispered, voice barely audible as you pulled away. “Pete, there’s some people, some people who want to see you.”

“What?” He asked but you just shook your head, taking his hand in yours and helping him stand up, wrapping your arm around his waist to steady him before he pushed away from your hold at seeing the two other Spider-Men perched on the roof.

Peter breathed heavily as they jumped down stopping them as he exclaimed, holding a hand up to them, both of the Peter’s raising their hands non threateningly.

“Sorry about May,” Regular Peter said.

“Yeah, sorry,” Suited Peter told him, going on to say how he understood but Peter took a step back, shaking his head as he spoke.

“Please don’t,” He said tearfully, “Don’t stand there and say you know what I’m going through.”

“Okay,” Suited Peter said softly, nodding his head.

“She’s dead and it’s all my fault.” Peter said, causing your eyes to widen as you gently took a step forward but didn’t say anything, trusting the other Peter’s to deal with this situation as gently as they could despite every fibre of your being telling you to take Peter and disappear until Strange came back, let him deal with it. “She died for nothing, so I’m gonna do what I should have done in the first place.” He said, making a move for the box.

“Peter-” Regularly dressed Peter said but your Peter cut him off.

“You’re all going home,” He said tiredly, “You don’t belong here. Those other guys are all from your world, so you deal with it, if you kill them, that’s on you, not me. I don’t care anymore. I’m done.”

You hated hearing Peter sound so defeated, you thought you’d seen him at his worst, all those years back when you were kids attending Ben’s funeral, not too long ago after he’d attended Tony’s funeral…you thought that was his rock bottom but losing May, you didn’t know if Peter could survive another loss.

MJ held the box away from Peter as regularly dressed Peter told your Peter about losing his uncle and suited Peter spoke about losing his girlfriend, they spoke about how they couldn’t save them. Suited Peter spoke of the guilt, of how he could never forgive himself and your Peter reached back to take your hand in his, assuring himself that one of the few people he had left in the world was still here.

“But I carried on, tried to keep going, tried to keep being the Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man, because she would’ve wanted that but at some point I stopped throwing my punches, I got bitter, I got rageful.” Your heart ached at suited Peter’s words, squeezing Peter’s hand tightly as you listened to his story. “And I just, I don’t want you to end up…like me.” He forced out tearfully.

“I wanna kill him,” Your Peter confessed, “I wanna tear him apart. I can still hear her voice in my head, even after she was hurt, she said that we did the right thing. Said that with great power-”

“Comes great responsibility.” Regularly dressed Peter finished and suited Peter nodded.

“What?” Peter said, “How do you know that?”

“Uncle Ben said it-” suited Peter said.

“The day he died.” You heard Peter take a shaky breath, “Maybe she didn’t die for nothing.”

You all made your way down to the science lab as they handed tasks out, suited Peter taking the serum for Connor’s, regularly dressed Peter offering to deal with Osborn. You watched Peter freeze, heard the other Peter they had to save them all and watched Peter nod.

“That’s what we do.” He said and you smiled.

Peter looked up and saw you watching the scene play out with a soft smile, raising a questioning eyebrow over at you but you just shook your head.

“How can I help?”

You and Peter got to work, you measuring different chemicals and running diagnostics, working easily together, gaining some sense of normality.

“How you doing?” You asked him softly as you waited for the diagnosis to be completed.

“I’m-” He began but then shook his head, “I’m tired, Y/N/N, I’m really tired.”

“We’ll cure them and once they're gone we’ll take a break, yeah? Just you and me, remember that weekend away we’ve been dreaming about, we’ll go.” You smiled at him watching as he shakily nodded back and leaned close to you, resting his forehead against yours.

“That sounds perfect.” He whispered, content to just stay this close to you forever and swore he wouldn’t lose you too, he’d lost too many people, he didn’t even know if he’d survive losing May, focusing on the cures rather than her death but losing you as well…he knew he wouldn’t recover from that.

“I’m so sorry I dragged you into this mess,” He apologised, “You deserve so much better, I ruined everything for you.”

“Hey, you ruined nothing, knowing you has been the best part of my life. We’re gonna be ok, it’s you and me, right?” You asked softly, taking his hands in yours.

“You and me.” He whispered and the two of you were so absorbed in one another you missed the sad smile suited Peter shot you both as memories of Gwen flashed through his head.

Peter and you got back to work, you moving around to hear the other two Peter’s talking softly about relationships. Suited Peter clearly still in pain over the girl he lost, Gwen you remind yourself.

“Me and MJ,” You heard regularly dressed Peter say and your head snapped around as you looked over at him. “My MJ.” He chuckled.

“Peter!” Ned called, causing you to look over at him, thoughts of Peter and MJ being pushed out of your head.

Peter pressed his lips against yours, the kiss passionate and conveying everything words couldn’t say before you pulled away from each other.

“Be safe.” You whispered.

“You too.” He gave you one last kiss before he headed through the portal.

“Heads up, Y/N/N!” Peter said, throwing the magic box to you and MJ told Ned to close the portal but try as he might he couldn’t do it.

“Ned, close the portal.” You snapped, anxious as you saw the scene playing out before you, watching the three Spider-Man holding up worse than you’d thought.

“I’m trying!” He snapped back, his own nerves high as he watched sand rise as Spider-Men were flung around widely.

“Ned,” you started but watched as the three Peter’s swung in sync with each other, seemingly back on track and smiled.

“Um Ned,” MJ began, trailing off as she looked at the lizard running towards you.

“Now would be a really good time to close it.” You finished for her, eyes widening in fear as the lizard got closer. “Run!” You yelled and all three of you took off, Peter swinging in as you ran through the portal clutching the box close to your chest and immediately lost Ned and MJ as you kept running, knowing if any of the others saw you then you were done for, the box making you target number one, taking priority over any of the Peter’s.

You kept running as the lizard followed close behind you only to be stopped by one of the magic portals. You sighed in relief but kept running, knowing you needed to hide as best you could. You looked across the statue and saw Doctor Strange appear and hoped Peter could convince him he was doing well.

You could hear Peter explaining the other Peter’s to Doctor Strange as you came to a stop next to them, Strange magicking the box from you just as the Green Goblin’s voice rang through the sky.

“Can the Spider-Man come out to play?”

You watched all three Peter’s eyes widen, noticing something you didn’t before something exploded, sending you flying from the top of the Statue of Liberty, fear flooding your system as you screamed, Peter’s head snapped around to see you fall.

He leapt into action, the only thought in his head was that he couldn’t lose you, not you. You watched as Peter appeared above you, relief flooding your system as you realised he was going to save you before he was blasted to the side by the Goblin’s glider.

You managed to pant a breath of absolute terror as your eyes fell closed, more scared than you’d ever been in your life.

Peter three saw it happen, it felt like slow motion as he shook his head, yelling out a ‘no’ as he dove off the statue.

No way was he going to let his brother go through the same pain he went through, no way was he not going to catch you.

He leapt and pulled you into his arms, feeling you wrap yours around his neck, holding onto him with a death grip but it was alright because he was holding you just as tightly, the two of you stood there with tears in your eyes and panting for breath as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Are you ok?” He asked you shakily, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Yeah, I’m ok,” You nodded just as shakily, “Are you ok?” You asked, looking at his watery eyes and quivering lip.

Peter couldn’t talk, just scrunched his face as he tried to hold back tears because he’d caught you and your Peter would never, never have to go through what he had. Losing Gwen had…you were safe and Peter would never have to experience that feeling because it really was a different type of pain, a different type of loss, your whole world taken from you because you had been too late.

Peter held you tighter before he placed you down softly, smiling as you placed a hand on his bicep and gave it a squeeze.

“You saved me, thank you.” A tear made its way down your face and Peter gently wiped it away before he turned to look up.

He nodded a few times, trying to get some words out before he finally cleared his throat.

“You’re ok,” He whispered, more to himself than you but you nodded anyway, “I should get back.” He said and gestured upwards.

You nodded at him, tightening your grip on his arm to hold him in place for a second as you leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you.” You whispered softly and Peter barely suppressed a sob as he nodded down at you.

“You're welcome.” He whispered back before he took off swinging.

You watched as the sky turned purple, looking closer it looked like cracks in the sky before orange magic shot towards them. You desperately looked around for your Peter but couldn’t see anything until you saw the Goblin’s glider land in the fallen shield.

“Ned!” You heard MJ shout and made your way around to them, watching them hug before Ned spotted you.

“Y/N!” He called in relief the three of you hugging each other before you pulled away.

“Stay here.” You told them before taking off running, ignoring their shouts as you started to make your way down to where he was.

“Y/N!” You heard Peter call desperately.

“She’s fine!” MJ shouted down to him, causing him to let out a relieved breath because losing you, it just wasn’t an option.

You ran as fast as you could, panting for breath as you finally made it down to ground level, seeing the shield half in the water and watching in fear as Peter and the Goblin fought each other, Peter not pulling any punches but you couldn’t find a way to get onto the shield.

“Hey,” The Peter who saved you said, landing next to you softly as you both watched Peter pick up the glider and lift it over his head, bringing it down on top of the Goblin but was stopped by the other Spider-Man. “Need a lift?” He asked, both of you watching as the glider was put down and Peter wrapped his arms around you again, swinging you both onto the shield softly.

Both of you stood still as the other Peter was stabbed by the Goblin, mouths falling opened as he fell to the floor, listening to the Goblin blame Peter for May’s death and you felt your blood boil but the Peter who saved you whispered your name, you turning in time to watch him throw to cure over to your Peter who didn’t hesitate to stab it into the Goblin’s neck.

“He’s gonna need you,” Peter whispered softly to you and you nodded, continuing to watch the scene unfold before you made your way over with Peter.

“Peter!” You called softly and he turned around, relief flooding his face as you ran into his arms, knocking him over with the force but he knelt and held you up, cupping the back of your head as you sobbed, Peter smiling over because he’d saved you, he’d made that moment possible.

“Whoa, is that happening or am I dying?” You and your Peter looked to the stabbed Peter, following his gaze to the cracks in the sky with people starting to come through and you held Peter tighter in fear.

“I gotta go,” Peter said, causing you to look at him but before you could protest he smashed a hard and messy kiss against your lips, pulling away and leaving you panting. “I gotta go.”

“I got them.” Peter three said and your Peter nodded at him thankfully before taking off, you turning to the stabbed Peter as the Peter who saved you placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Is he gonna be ok?” You asked and Peter nodded.

“Yeah, we have healing abilities, he’ll be fine.” You smiled down at him and took his other hand in yours.

“What if everyone forgot who I was?” Peter asked Strange tearfully. “They’re coming here because of me right, because I’m Peter Parker? Well this time cast the spell and make everyone forget who I am.”

“No,” Strange said.

“It’d work right?” Peter asked and Strange nodded even though he hated to admit it.

“You have to understand, everyone, everyone who knows and loves you would we, we’d have no memory of you. It’d be as though you never existed.” Strange told him tearfully.

“I know,” Peter said, “Do it.”

“Better go and say you’re goodbyes, you don’t have long.” Strange said, blinking against the tears.

“Thank you, sir.” He said, missing Strange’s eye roll.

“Call me Stephen.” He told the kid with a chuckle.

“Thank you, Stephen.” He said, causing the man to smile.

You watched as a swirl of magic shot through the sky and Peter landed by Ned and MJ, you watched them all cry and they hugged Peter before he turned to you.

“What’s happening?” You asked Peter as you helped him stand the stabbed Peter up.

“I don’t know,” He said, not having a good feeling about whatever it was.

You all watched as your Peter landed on the shield with a soft thud looking at you with watery eyes before he turned to the other two Peter’s.

“I think it’s time for you two to go home. I, um, thank you, I just wanted to tell you that, I really don't know how to how to-” He stammered watching as the other Peter’s smile widely at him.

“Peter,” The one who saved you said softly, the smile turning into a gentle grin as he looked at his brother.

“We know.” Stabbed Peter said. “It’s what we do.”

“Yeah,” Your Peter said, “it’s what we do.”

“I gotta talk to Y/N.” He told them and they both nodded at him before he launched forward and hugged the two of them tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Peter said looking at you and you looked at him with a soft smile.

“If you’re ever in the universe again, don’t be a stranger.” Your smile widened as he laughed.

“Same goes.” He smiled, watching as your Peter led you off the shield and turned to you, the smile falling off his face.

“Peter?” You asked softly, cupping his cheek but he just pulled you tightly into his arms. “Peter, what’s going on?

“Strange is doing the spell.” He told you and you nodded.

“Yeah, the spell to send everybody home.” You said, glancing over to the other Peter’s who watched you in concern.

“Yeah but he’s- you’re going to forget who I am.” He told you, causing you to laugh, eyes welling with tears as you shook your head.

“What are you talking about?” You asked him, both of his hands taking yours as you stepped back.

“It’s the only way,” Peter said, “But it’s ok, it’s ok because I’ll find you and I’ll make you remember me, yeah?” He said with a shaky smile and you let out a sob as you stared at him, as if memorising every part of his face would stop you forgetting him.

“I don’t want to forget you.” You sobbed and he pulled you against him, holding you tighter than he ever had before. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“It’ll be okay.”  He mumbled into your hair, feeling you shake your head.

“It’s meant to be you and me.” You told him, pulling back to look up at him, puffy eyes and tears falling down your cheeks uncontrollably as your lips quivered.

“You and me.” He said, nodding down at you, “I promise I’ll make you remember.” He said before he pulled you in for a kiss, it was messy, uncoordinated and you tried to convey everything, everything there wasn’t enough time to say, convey what there weren’t words for.

“I lov-” Peter began as he pulled away but you shook your head, covering his mouth with your hand.

“Don’t, don’t say that, not yet.” You choked out around more sobs, “Don’t tell me that, tell me when you find me.”

Peter looked at you, tears falling down his own face as he nodded, pulling you back into his arms and savouring the feeling.

“Ok, ok,” He said, still nodding, “But I do, Y/N, I really do.”

“Me too.” You said, smiling up at him, “It’s you and me.”

“I’ll make you remember.” He promised before giving you one last kiss, desperate to memorise every detail about you.

The sky crackled as you two looked at each other once more, nodding at each other.

“You and me.” He said before Strange’s spell began to work. He took one last, long look at you before he did the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, walk away from you.

Strange nodded down at him and you smiled over at him before he was gone and you fell to your knees, sobbing heartbrokenly, a pain in your chest you knew you’d never recover from.

Your eyes fell closed as you leaned your head on the ground only for them to open a few moments later as you looked around, glancing up at the Statue of Liberty in confusion, seeing MJ and Ned leaning over and looking down at you just as confused.

You lifted a hand to your cheeks, feeling the tears running down your checks without knowing why. Ned and MJ made their way down to you, their own cheeks wet with tears as you all looked at each other, no words being exchanged as you looked for a way back.

Still as you walked you couldn’t help but press a hand to your lips, the whisper of a memory you couldn’t quite reach and an empty feeling in your chest that hurt your heart.

Weeks passed and you found yourself at work, grinning down at your MIT acceptance letter as MJ sat with Ned at a table, taking a break leaving you at the counter but it was a cold, slow day so the three of you were chatting away and laughing with one another when the door opened.

Peter paused in the doorway, the sound of your laugh after so many weeks had him aching whilst also causing him to relax, the sound like the best music in his ears.

When you turned around to face him his heart just about stopped as he saw a wide, happy smile on your face.

“Hi,” The smile turned sweet as you stood straighter, “What can I get for you?”

“Hi,” He said softly, “My name is Peter Parker and I-” Here he stopped thinking of how much easier your life would be without him in it and he glanced down, noticing the acceptance letter on the counter. “I would like a coffee please.”

“Sure thing, Peter Parker.” You grinned at him before turning to make his drink.

“MIT?” He asked, trying to sound as casual as possible even though he wanted to cry as you smiled over your shoulder at him.

“Huh,oh yeah, I got it this morning, I’m so excited.” You told him and that’s what solidified it for him, he couldn’t tell you who he was, he couldn’t drag you into this world again, all it would take is one more Mysterio, one more villain to unmask him and you’d be slaughtered for it.

He couldn’t do it.

“What about you?” He looked up at your question, clearing his throat to dislodge the lump that had settled in it.

“Me?” He asked, causing you to giggle.

“You look my age, where are you going to school?” He smiled at the sound of your laugh before he stammered out a lie.

“Oh school?” He chuckled, causing you to smile, “I, um, I’m taking a year off.”

“Cool, that’s exciting.” You told him, “Here’s your coffee, Peter Parker.” You grinned at him and he smiled back.

“Have a great time at MIT.” He told you softly, smiling as he took his drink and headed out of the door.

“Thank you.” You told him watching him leave.

Your eyebrows furrowed together as you glanced through the window at him, a feeling in your chest you couldn’t quite explain as you looked over Ned and MJ who were looking at you with matching grins.

“Do we know that guy?” You asked them, watching in confusion as they shook their heads.

“No but he was cute.” MJ grinned, causing you to roll your eyes and look back out the window but he was gone.

“Hey, you ok?” MJ asked softly as she walked over to you and you frowned as you blinked back tears that came from nowhere.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You told her, fingers coming up to play with the necklace that rested against your chest as you wracked your thoughts for any memory of the man who had just left but came up empty.

Still you couldn’t explain the empty feeling in your chest as you stared down at the acceptance letter, bringing the necklace up to your lips.

___________

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Febuwhump Prompt - "Don't Leave."

Prompt - “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

You sat in Ned’s apartment with him and MJ, a magical box resting on the table as you all waited for word from Peter. Your eyes were locked on the TV, watching as The Daily Bugle reported from outside Happy’s apartment but they were cut short as a fight broke out and the three of you could do nothing but stare the screen with bated breath.

“Should we press it?” MJ asked as the fight continued, watching as something bomb-like detonated.

Nobody replied to her question, all of you just continued to watch the screen, watching as Aunt May’s death was announced and you felt numbness spread throughout your entire body.

The past few days had been a blur of emotions all mixed into one, fear, anxiety, stress, relief, annoyance, all of those emotions and so many more had consumed you for days. You had hated that they were taking over but now as you stared at the screen, hearing the news, hearing that Peter had lost the last piece of his family, you wished you could feel anything but that horrible, bone chilling numbness.

“We should press it, right?” MJ asked again but you couldn’t speak. It felt like your throat had closed up as a single tear ran down your cheek, hating that Peter was alone right now.

“I don’t know,” Ned sighed, sounding close to tears himself, “I just, I just wish we could see him.”

Up until that moment your eyes had stayed locked onto the screen, not able to pull yourself away from it but then you saw orange sparks out of the corner of your eye. You recognised them as the same sparks that came from one of Strange’s portals and your head snapped around to Ned who looked at the place the sparks appeared, eyes wide and shock clear across his face.

“Do that again.” You snapped at him, standing up and moving over to where the portal had sparked.

“Yeah.” Ned was clearly astonished by what he had done. “I just wish we could see him.”

You watched as a portal began to fully form, shoulder sagging in relief as you saw an alleyway appear before you saw Spider-Man standing in the distance. You listened as MJ and Ned called Peter, beckoning him to come through.

It was only as he ran closer did you realise that something wasn’t right.

You watched as he came through, definitely Spider-Man but not the one you knew and yet when he pulled his mask off there was something so overwhelmingly familiar about him that it took your breath away and caused you to stagger back into the table.

The man was staring at you, his eyes wide as he looked into your eyes, completely lost as to why he felt like he knew you, lost over why his hand twitched up in an attempt to touch you but then somebody started shouting and he raised them non-threateningly.

“Hi, Hi, no it’s ok, I’m a nice guy.” He said softly, glancing over at Ned’s grandmother before he turned his attention to you, tilting his head at you questioningly.

“Who are you?” You heard somebody ask but you couldn’t look away from him, hands gripping the table edge so tightly your knuckles had turned white as you tried to figure out just why the numbness had been replaced with a feeling of safety, a feeling of relief, a feeling of being home.

“I’m Peter Parker, I am Spider-Man in my world but yesterday I was, I was just here.” He told MJ, his voice staying soft as he struggled with his own feelings, feelings that he hadn’t felt for a long time, feelings he thought had died the night Gwen had.

His attention was forced away from you as a bread roll hit his chest and he was forced to prove his identity, the suit and his word not being enough for the group in front of him, though he couldn’t push away the warmth in his chest at the smile on your face as you watched him.

“We good?” He asked and everybody nodded.

“Maybe if you keep doing it we can find the real Peter.” MJ said to Ned, the two of them talking in the background but you tuned them out as Peter took a hesitant step towards you, a hundred and one questions on his tongue.

“Hi,” was all he managed to breathe out, his eyes becoming wet and he couldn’t say why.

“Hi.” You replied, voice just as quiet, just as soft as his as you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, your heart beating faster as he lifted his hand to your cheek before he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

You pulled away from each other as you heard the sound of another man’s voice, Peter staring ahead and you turning around so your back was to his chest, listening as he too introduced himself as Peter Parker.

“This might sound weird,” The other Peter told you all from the opposite side of the room, “but I’ve been trying to find your friend ever since I got here, I just have the sense that he, um, that he needs my help.”

“Our help.” Your Peter said and you had to pause for a second because your Peter? Where had that come from?

You turned to face him again, looking up at him as everybody around you spoke, hating that you couldn’t pay attention but your mind was focused on the man in front of you, every part of you screaming that he was your Peter. Confusion ran through you, you truly did feel like you knew him despite the fact he was from a different reality.

When you left him to go and see the Peter from your universe it felt like everything inside you was protesting being away from your Peter, leaving you feeling empty and cold and only able to relax once you heard him speak from where he stood with the other Peter, talking to your universe Peter with sympathy and understanding.

Your heart ached to be next to your Peter, you really had to stop calling him that, as he started talking about Gwen, about how losing her had caused him to stop fighting, how he turned bitter and rageful and how he gave up, only putting the suit on because he knew she’d want him to continue being the Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man.

“And I just, I don’t want you to end up…like me.” Those words had a single tear slipping down your cheek as you continued to stare up at your Peter, frowning as the guilt radiated off of him, wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around him, to take the guilt and sadness away from him.

You finally relaxed as you all made your way down to the lab, you and your Peter gravitating towards each other like it was second nature. Peter brushed his knuckles against yours, both of you startling as sparks shot through your hands at the small touch, feeling your heart skip a beat.

“I think I can repair the devices for Dillon and Marko but the others,” Your universe Peter said, trailing off as he looked down at the other broken cures.

“Oh,” Your Peter said, a little cockily causing you to grin, “I got Connors. I’ve already cured him once, so no big deal.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as he smiled at the looks he was shot.

“What? It’s no big deal.” He told them again, watching them nod as he picked the cure up and gestured for you to follow him with a tilt of his head.

“So Y/N,” Peter said softly as you took a seat at the lab, smiling as he helped you into a lab coat. “Do you know what’s happening?”

You looked over at him, swallowing against the lump in your throat as you shook your head. The two of you were sitting side by side, you could see every detail on his face from this close and you fought to keep your hands to yourself despite the fact you wanted nothing more than to trace his face with your fingertips and run them through soft, brown locks.

“I feel like I know you,” You told him, keeping your voice quiet as the two of you worked together at the back of the room, forcing your gaze down onto the beaker in front of you though you couldn’t stop them flickering back over to him every few seconds. “I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.”

Peter let out a breath, let his eyes lock onto you as he watched you use the pipette to measure one of the chemicals before dropping it into the beaker. He felt breathless as he looked at you because he too felt like he knew you, he felt like his world was instantly brighter, instantly better, more hopeful and beautiful since he’d laid his eyes on you.

His hand found yours once you were finished adding the chemicals and he smiled as the warm sparks shot through the touch, smiled as you looked up at him with the most adoring expression. He never thought he’d feel like this again, not since Gwen had…not since Gwen but here you were before him making him feel like there was something left to fight for, something to live for.

It was bizarre, he knew it was, he knew it didn’t make sense, how could a girl he’d met only hours ago draw this reaction from him? He didn’t have an answer but he didn’t need one, every emotion seemed heightened as he brushed his fingers across your knuckles, watching as you relaxed into his touch.

“I feel like I’ve been waiting for you all my life.” Peter confessed as his other hand came up to cup your cheek and you couldn't help but press your hand against his, keeping him from moving away.

“Peter,” You whispered, feeling overwhelmed by the emotions the man was able to bring out in you, emotions you’d never felt before, the strongness of them leaving you uneasy but you also never wanted them to go away, never wanted Peter to go away.

“I know,” Peter whispered back, unable to stop himself from resting his forehead on yours. “I don’t understand it either but I want whatever this is.”

“Me too.” You said, not quite sure why tears had filled your eyes but you didn’t pay them any mind, just kept looking into Peter’s eyes, seeing them light up and swimming with an array of emotions.

“Peter!” Ned called, causing you and Peter to shoot away from each other as everyone turned to Ned.

“Yeah?” All three of them asked and you laughed as they all looked at each other before speaking at once.

“Peter Parker?” Ned tried again.

“We’re all Peter Parker.” Your Peter told him, causing you to grin as you leaned your head against his shoulder, missing the way his eyes softened as he smiled down at you.

“So, wait,” Your Peter said as you had all moved to check the computer, all of the cures ready. “Are you going into battle dressed as a cool youth pastor or do you have your suit?” You couldn’t help but chuckle, causing Peter to shoot you a grin before he nodded to the other Peter who revealed the suit under his shirt.

After a few more words between you all, the three Peter’s were ready to put the plan into action. You watched as your universe Peter stood off to the side, exchanging quiet words with MJ and turned to your Peter.

“Hey,” You said, taking his wrist in yours and leading him away from Ned and the other Peter who both looked at the two of you but neither of you noticed, “Please be safe.” You whispered.

“Look at me,” Peter said, cupping your jaw in his hand and guiding your face up to his before he rested your foreheads together again, “I’m going to be fine, we’re going to cure them.”

You looked into impossibly soft eyes as he smiled down at you reassuringly and nodded against his forehead, closing your eyes for a second before you pulled away and wrapped your arms around his waist, missing the way Ned looked back to your universe Peter and they shot each other confused looks.

Peter looked down at you, a wide smile pulling at his lips as he wrapped his own arms around you, holding you close as he took comfort in the feeling of home. He couldn’t describe it, it felt like magic was running through his veins, the feeling of you in his arms, getting to hold you against his chest, burying his face in your hair…it was such an overwhelming feeling that he felt almost light headed, not able to resist placing a lingering kiss to your head as the two of you pulled away.

“You’ve got this.” You told him watching as he nodded down at you. He’d believe anything you told him and as he looked at you he felt every bit of fight come back to him at full force, no more stopping his punches, no more rage or bitterness, he had this.

“I’ll see you soon.” He promised, placing another kiss to your head causing you to smile up at him, nodding as he headed out of the portal with the other Peter’s, your universe Peter leaving last as he shot you a questioning look.

As they left through the portal you moved to stand next to Ned and MJ, raising an eyebrow as they both stared at you.

“What?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at them.

“What?” MJ asked back in disbelief, “What the hell was that?” She said gesturing to the space you and Peter had just occupied.

You sighed and closed your eyes before looking through the portal that was still open.

“I don’t know.” You told her honestly after a few moments of silence.

“You don’t know?” She repeated slowly and you shook your head, now that he was gone it felt like you were missing a part of you and hated that you didn’t know what was happening.

“I can’t explain it,” You began, taking a seat on one of the stools, “It’s like, I don’t know, something about him seems familiar, you know? Something is pulling me towards him, yelling at me that I need to be close to him. I feel like I know him already, feel like I’ve always known him. It’s like a piece of me has been missing, a piece that I never knew was missing, never knew existed but now that it’s there…” You told them, trailing off and refused to meet their gaze, knowing it sounded crazy.

“Y/N,” MJ breathed out, looking at you with wide eyes. In all the time she had known you she’d never heard you speak so softly about somebody.

“It doesn't make sense,” You cut her off, “I know it doesn’t and I can’t explain it. I just know what I feel.”

“Nothing about this makes any sense.” She said to you as she sat in the stool to your left, gesturing towards the portal that led out to the Statue of Liberty where three Spider-Men stood waiting for villains from other universes.

“I’ve known him for a few hours and it’s like, it’s like I’m hooked on him. Everything about him is addicting.” MJ looked at you again, watching as you stared at the portal.

“He looks at you like you’re the only person in the room.” She told you quietly, recalling the looks he had given you as the two of you worked on Connor’s cure, laughing and smiling as you spoke about your lives, getting to know each other. He had looked at you like every word meant something incredible, like nothing you said couldn’t interest him and she saw the way you looked back at him, like each word was sacred, each move he made was significant.

“So what’s going on with you and Y/N?” Your universe Peter asked Peter.

Peter looked at the portal that was still open in the distance before turning back to the two Peter’s looking at him.

“I don’t know, man, there’s just something drawing me to her. She’s like a breath of fresh air, you know? It feels like I’m meant to know her, like she’s meant for me. I feel like I already know her.” He told them, watching their eyes widen as they stared at him.

“You’ve never met her before, right?” The other different universe Peter asked, looking between the other Peter’s, “She’s definitely from this universe?”

“I’ve known her pretty much my whole life, she’s definitely from here.” Your universe Peter answered for Peter, shaking his head because it was impossible for you not to be from his universe.

“I’ve never met her, I just-” Peter paused and let out a deep breath, “I don’t know, I came out of that portal and was breathless, you know? Looking into her eyes, it felt like coming home after years of being lost.”

“Wow,” Your universe Peter breathed out, looking at Peter with wide eyes as he watched his face completely soften as he spoke about you.

Both yours and Peter’s conversations were cut off with the arrival of the villains as you and MJ stood up and made your way over to Ned who stood next to the still open portal and watched as he failed to close it, your eyes trying to find Peter in the chaos and anxiety coursed through your veins as you couldn’t see him.

You continued to stare out of the portal and froze as you watched the lizard break free of the webbs holding him in place and lock eyes with the open portal.

“I’m trying to close it, MJ!” Ned snapped, “Don’t tell them it’s not working.” He took a deep breath and tried again, MJ speaking calmly and encouragingly as she watched him try and fail to close it.

“Guys,” You said, gulping loudly causing them to both glance at you. “We should run.”

They both followed your gaze and gasped as they saw the lizard charging towards you all, his sights set on the box in MJ’s hands.

“Good idea!” MJ agreed as you all ran around the room, relief flooding through you as your universe Peter swung in and kicked the lizard to the other side of the room, yelling for you all to run.

You did and ran through the portal, gasping for breath as you looked down from the Statue before Ned grabbed your arm, giving you a shove to keep moving. You ended up losing track of them and came to a stop as you saw your Peter being held by Electro’s powers and held your breath watching as the other universe Peter swung in only to be stopped by the robotic tentacle.

You huffed a breath of relief as Doc Ock lowered the two Spider-Men onto the scaffolding and ran over to Peter, wrapping your arms around his waist as you buried your face in his back, feeling him tense before he twisted around to see you and fully turned so you were held against his chest.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” He exclaimed, looking down at you with wide, scared eyes.

“The lizard thing-” You panted out, unable to say anything else as fear ran through you as you cuddled closer to Peter who tightened his grip on you.

“Alright, alright, you’re ok, I got you.” Peter whispered, placing a kiss upon the top of your head as he continued to hold you close until your breathing was under control. “You gotta go, Y/N/N, you can’t be up here.”

You could hear the fear in his voice and didn’t try to argue with him, not when he was looking at you like that. Instead you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, watching as some of the fear eased and he smiled down at you.

“You’ve got this.” You told him, smiling as his smile got wider and he nodded, cupping your cheek in his hand and pressing your foreheads together.

“Get to safety.” He whispered, leaning close, so close that your lips brushed together but then MJ called Peter’s name and both of you turned to the sound and saw the lizard get knocked to the floor.

“You got this.” You repeated and watched him grin at you before he swung into action, ready to cure Connors.

You began to make you way down, only getting a level or two down before it all seemed to shake as an explosion rang through the air, powerful enough to throw you over the scaffolding and you let out a scream as debris exploded around you, a piece managing to cut your cheek as you felt yourself fall through the air.

Peter’s head snapped over, watching in horror as you fell. He felt his stomach drop as his blood ran cold and didn’t hesitate before he was moving, diving from the scaffolding and down to you.

He could see the horror in your eyes as you plummeted through the air, could hear his heart beating in his ears as memories assaulted his mind.

No way, he thought to himself, I only just found her.

You sobbed as Peter’s arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly against his chest as the two of you landed softly on the floor. You gasped for air and Peter looked down at you, his breaths coming out in pants as tears welled up in his eyes.

I caught her, I caught her, she’s safe.

“Are you okay?” He managed to ask, a tear falling from his eye as you nodded into his chest, staying there for a few moments longer before pulling away to look up at him.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you okay?” You asked quietly, unlooping one of your arms from his neck and brought a shaky hand up to his face, wiping away the tear only for it to be replaced by more as emotions overwhelmed him.

He couldn’t speak, he could only nod and you brought his head down to yours, pressing your foreheads together exactly as Peter needed. He needed to hear your breathing, needed to feel your fingers in his hair and against his cheek.

She’s safe, I caught her.

Peter placed you down on your feet and kept you close together, not ready to move away yet and you were more than fine with that, fear and adrenaline running through you.

“Thank you.” You whispered, brushing away the tears again and felt him nod.

He couldn’t stop himself as he leaned down, pressing your lips together hesitantly, a barely there brush of lips but you smiled, a huff of relief leaving your lips before you pressed yours against Peter’s with more force.

The kiss was still soft but it felt like you had both consumed Electro’s powers as sparks flew between the two of you. It was unlike any kiss either of you had had before, Peter’s arms coming to rest around your waist, holding you tight as you moved your arm so both of them were around his neck, pulling him in closer.

It wasn’t long before the two of you pulled away, the kiss leaving you breathless as you stared at each other, feeling like something in the universe had shifted.

“Y/N,” He whispered, no other words coming out but you just nodded, leaning in again to brush your lips against his, a quick kiss before you pulled away, knowing he was needed.

“You got this.” You murmured, watching as he smiled at you as best he could whilst his lips trembled.

“Please stay safe.” He said, causing you to let out a soft huff of laughter as you nodded.

“I’ll see you soon.” You said, unable to resist the urge to press one last to his lips, smiling into it as he cupped your cheek, thumb brushing against the cut on your face,  before the two of you pulled away and with a final glance towards you he took off swinging.

You leant back and tried to slow your beating heart before it burst out of your chest, looking up as the sky turned people and seemed to split and figures began to make their way out.

“Y/N?” You heard MJ and Ned yelled and turned around, looking at them in relief and meeting them halfway as you ran into their arms.

“You ok?” She asked breathlessly, pulling back to hold you at arm's length, watching as you smiled softly and nodded.

“Yeah, I’m ok.” You told her truthfully.

“Guys,” Ned says and you all turn to stare down in horror as Peter landed punch after punch onto the Goblin, hearing his laughs from where you were. MJ grabbed your hand just as Peter grabbed the Goblin’s glider and held it over his head, fully intending to bring it down on the man.

You all breathed a sigh of relief as he was stopped by the other universe Peter, you could see his face pleading with Peter before the glider was set down before you gasped as you watched the goblin stab the other Peter.

You couldn’t move but watched as your Peter threw the goblin cure over to your universe Peter who grabbed it without turning away and stabbed it into the Goblin’s neck. You took great delight in the look of shock on his face.

MJ squeezed your hand tighter in hers as a loud rumble seemed to spread through the earth and you all looked up to see the cracks in the sky widening, mixing with orange runes that you recognised as Strange’s magic.

You looked to the other Peter’s and watched as your universe Peter webbed his way up to the top of the Statue of Liberty where Strange was standing and let your gaze wander down to your Peter who helped lift the other Peter off the ground.

“Where are you going?” MJ called as you untangled your hand from hers and took off running towards the two Peter’s.

“Y/N!” Peter called as you made your way over to them, a relieved smile pulling on his lips.

“Are you ok?” You asked the other Peter softly, gladly letting Peter pull you against him on the side that wasn’t holding the other Peter.

“I’m good,” He smiled at you, “I heal quick.”

“Good.” You smiled back before turning to look up at your Peter who smiled down at you and lowered his head so that his lips brushed against yours, the two of you so absorbed in each other you missed the look of surprise on the other Peter’s face.

“You’re safe.” He murmured against your lips as the two of you pulled away.

“You did it.” You smile up at him, watching as he relaxed completely, grinning at you as he nodded. “You’re okay?”

Peter didn’t answer for a moment, just looked down at you, eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on but his entire expression softened as he looked into your eyes and cupped your cheek in his hand, his thumb brush just below the cut.

“I’m okay.” He finally said, voice barely above a whisper but you heard them clear enough and the two of you just looked at each other before you turned to face your universe Peter who landed in front of you all with a soft thud.

You watched his smile fade as he looked from you to your Peter, regret spreading across his features as you frowned at him.

“What is it?” You asked, continuing to look at him and missing the way your Peter’s face crumbled, shaking his head as his eyes screwed shut to hold back the tears.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N/N.” He whispered, taking a step closer to you and you felt your frown deepen as you turned up to your Peter, freezing as you saw him.

“No,” You said, shaking your own head repeatedly as you stepped even closer to Peter if it were possible. “No, tell Strange to do something.”

“Y/N,” Peter managed but you shook your head at him.

“Please Peter, I can’t- I can’t lose him. Tell Strange to send me to his universe, please.” You begged, your voice breaking as tears slid down your cheeks.

“Y/N/N,” Your Peter said softly and you sobbed, feeling your knees give out but Peter caught you, the other Peter pulling away, holding onto your universe Peter as they both watched you sadly.

“Please don’t,” You sobbed, feeling him rest his forehead against yours as tears fell uncontrollably down his own cheeks. He lifted his hands to cup both of your cheeks, feeling your tears against his hand as you begged and pleaded with him. “Please Peter, don’t leave. You can’t leave, I just found you.”

“I know, I know.” He choked out, feeling emptier than he had in a long time, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, baby.”

“You can’t leave.” You told him again and he nodded because he knew he couldn’t, he couldn’t leave you, not now. How could he leave you here when it felt like everything in him was screaming at him that you were his and he was yours? How could he leave you when you felt more like home than any four walls ever had?

He couldn’t leave you but he knew he had no choice and that realisation turned his blood cold.

The two of you stayed in each other’s hold, missing when your universe Peter left after trying to get your attention but failing, missed the sympathetic looks the other Peter gave you. You felt the magic spread through the air, knew it would snatch your Peter away from you any second and held onto him tighter like that would stop the magic.

Peter felt it too and leaned down, smashing your lips together in a messy kiss, tears pouring down both your cheeks as you gripped each other hard enough to bruise. The two of you panting for breath as you pulled away, Peter resting his forehead back on yours.

“I’ll find you.” He promised, nodding his head as he did. “I swear to God I will find a way back to you, Y/N/N.”

“I’ll be waiting.” You told him and just like that you watched as Strange’s orange magic covered him before he disappeared causing you to fall to your knees, sobbing into the empty space where he had stood.

“Y/N.” You looked up and saw your universe Peter crouching down next to you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m gonna get him back.” You told him, voice hard and determined, causing Peter to smile down at you sadly.

“I have to go.” He said and you frowned up at him, crying even harder as he explained Strange’s spell to you, realising that you were losing both your best friend and your soul mate in the space of a few seconds.

“I’m gonna get you back too then.” You promised him, watching as he smiled sadly at you but didn’t disagree. He just nodded at you, glancing up at Strange who gave him a look.

He had to leave now.

“I love you.” He whispered as he stood and you felt the sobs wrack your body, felt your throat close up but forced yourself to reply.

“I love you too.” You choked out, forcing yourself to smile but it dropped the second he turned away, swinging off into the distance just as Strange’s spell took affect and the last thought you had was -

I’m gonna get them back.

____________

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INFINITELY YOU

part one // back at the beginning

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. all versions of peter are between the ages of 19-23 in this story. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 5.4k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // playlist // no way home fan fiction //

The world seemed to slip out from under you, fracturing beneath your feet and leaving you to sink into a deep, dark hole.  

It was quiet—so unbearably quiet—and the tension between you and your estranged friends had become so thick that you feared it would soon take form and seep into your lungs. Maybe that would be for the best, you thought, wondering if suffocating on your collective grief would somehow be easier than whatever came next.  

“Aunt May…” You sputtered, unable to force the words out. Shaking your head, you asked, “Are you sure?”  

God, what a stupid question. You almost wanted to slap yourself for asking something so mindless.

Ned’s lips pressed into a thin line, trying to swallow his own sorrow. “I wish we weren’t,” he said with a small, wistful chuckle, still too shocked to fully acknowledge the gravity of it all. “But… yeah, we’re sure. She’s… She’s gone.”  

Your heart sank, unable to think of the right string of words to form a reply.  

With your mind reeling, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that this was some sort of cruel joke–the kind where the punchline would never quite hit. But all it took was one look at the red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks of Ned and Mj to know that they were telling the truth.  

She was dead—Aunt May was dead.  

And, somehow, it seemed as though that wasn’t even the worst part of the mess your friends had gotten themselves in.  

“I know that it’s a lot to take in all at once,” Ned started back up, perhaps noticing the way the color seemed to drain from your face. “If you need me to go back over it or explain anything then I can-”  

You stopped listening to him, staring blankly at the doormat beneath their feet. They hadn’t even bothered to come inside your apartment, too panicked to waste any time before delving into the details about Doctor Strange and the multiverse and other Spider-Man’s.  

But honestly, you didn’t care about any of that.  

You didn’t care about string theory or whatever multiversal villains had apparently slipped into your world—because you couldn’t stop thinking about what Ned had said about how May died. It hurt to think about it, the shrapnel and debris that had torn her flesh, the glider that had punctured her side and left her bleeding out in Peter’s arms…  

Aunt May had died a horrific and brutal death, and you weren’t sure that there would ever be any way for you to come to terms with that.  

“Peter,” you finally spoke, fire raging in your eyes as you looked at Ned. “Where is Peter?”  

He spared Mj a sidelong glance, as if silently asking for her permission to answer. Frustration began to prick your skin, crawling up your spine as your stare turned harsh, offended that he didn’t just tell you outright. You knew that things between the four of you hadn’t ended well, but this… 

Mj crossed her arms, looking almost as frustrated as you were with Ned’s choice to look to her for permission, and decided to answer in his place.  

“Downstairs,” she told you, her tone purposefully clipped as a way to show that the wounds sustained in the downfall of your friendship had not yet healed–and you didn’t care, because you knew that yours hadn’t either.  

“Is he…” you trailed off, not sure how to say it. If May’s death had been so brutal, then God knows what kind of injuries Peter might’ve sustained in the fight?  

But you didn’t have to speak, because whether the two of you liked it or not, you had been friends—and she always knew what you were thinking. “He’s safe,” she told you, quelling your nerves just a little. A reluctant sigh slipped her lips, shaking her head as she added, “But he’s not okay.”  

You knew what she meant—physically Peter had survived the fight with this Goblin man that they had told you about, but mentally…  

You understood why she was hesitant to tell you about it, too. Of the three of you, there was only one that had ever been able to delve down into the depths of Peter’s trauma and help him claw his way back out of the gnawing pit that threatened to consume him—and it wasn’t either of them.  

And, just as Mj knew you, you knew her. 

She didn’t want you around Peter, not anymore—and so if she was willingly telling you that he wasn’t okay, then it meant that she knew how much he truly needed you right now.  

“You guys should’ve told me sooner,” you grit your teeth, desperately trying to bite back against the resentment rising in your throat. “You should’ve told me as soon as all of this started, instead of waiting until everything went to shit.”  

It wasn’t your intention to sound bitter, but that didn’t stop you from coming across that way. Ned recoiled from your tone like a blow, but you didn’t have it in you to feel guilty right now.  

They had been dealing with all of this multiversal crisis bullshit for nearly a week now—and yet none of them had thought to say a single word to you until now. And while you knew that your presence likely wouldn’t have changed the course of events that had unfolded, it still hurt.  

And it still made you angry.  

“What do you need me to do?” You asked after realizing that neither of them intended to respond to your sharp statement.  

“Well,” Ned started, nervously rubbing his sweaty palms against his khakis, “it’s gonna take us some time to figure out where the villains are hiding, and even longer to work out what to do with them. And, since these other Peter’s have dealt with these guys before, we could really use their help…”  

He trailed off, once again looking to Mj, this time to silently urge her to finish his sentence.  

She rolled her eyes. “We need you to let them stay here.”  

Your brows furrowed, glancing between the two of them as if once again waiting for some sort of punchline to hit. It didn’t.  

“It might take us a bit–a few weeks, maybe—to find all of them and stop them. And now that Happy’s complex was literally blown to pieces, we don’t have anywhere for the two of them to stay while they help out.” Mj tried to explain. She looked defeated when she said, “We didn’t know who else we could go to that would actually understand.”  

Understand.  

If you weren’t still reeling from everything they had just told you, then you probably would have laughed at the word. You would hardly say that you understood what was going on—but you knew what she was getting.  

Mj’s dad would hardly allow two random men to stay in his house with them, and Ned’s Lola probably wasn’t too keen on the idea either. With Happy’s place destroyed, they had nowhere left to turn.  

You weren’t sure how to feel now that you knew they had only come to you because you were their last choice.  

At the risk of aggravating Mj, you said, “I wanna talk to Peter.”  

“I don’t know if now’s a good time,” Mj swiftly shot back. “I told you that’s he’s not okay—”  

“But he’s here,” you stated, nodding your head towards the stairs somewhere behind them that led back down to the lobby. “And you’re insane if you think I’m gonna agree to let two random ass men stay in my house without at least knowing what his plan is.”  

Mj bristled at the harshness of your tone; and so did you.  

You weren’t used to this.  

Mj had been your friend for far longer than she had been whatever she was to you now, and neither of you were used to this—to your once special connection being reduced to nothing more than strained conversations and fractured feelings towards one another.  

“Fine,” Mj surrendered, her hands lifting slightly. “Do whatever you want.”  

It wasn’t until then that you realized that you had been waiting for her permission, even though you didn’t believe you truly needed it. Peter was your friend—and he had been your friend long before he even knew Mj. If you wanted to talk to him, then you had every right to.  

Yet you still hadn’t been able to will yourself to push between the two of them until she had spoken, side-stepping to let you pass. When you started descending the stairs to the lobby, you were shocked that neither she nor Ned followed, offering you a sense of privacy with Peter that you hadn’t expected—as if she still held some shred of trust in you.  

You didn’t want to think about it though, unsure of how you felt about that, too.  

Halfway down the dank stairway of your complex, you felt a shiver dance along your spine. It prickled your skin and set your nerves on edge, but it didn’t catch you off guard. You always felt this way when Peter was around—as if your body could always sense when he was around, even when you hadn’t yet seen him.  

The last step creaked when you placed your weight onto it, and from across the poorly maintained lobby, Peter’s neck snapped in your direction at the sound.  

It felt like ice skittered across your bones at the sight of him, your heart lurching against your ribcage.  

You had gotten used to seeing Peter battered and bruised years ago. Even before he became Spider-Man, he often found himself the victim of bullies and assholes, rarely going more than a few weeks without a busted lip or a new bruise. But this…  

This was different, somehow.  

It wasn’t just the blood-stained suit that set your heart racing, nor was it the lacerated skin or his sweat-matted hair. No, those things were normal—in the same way that being bitten by a radioactive spider was normal.  

It was even normal to see him standing before you, his chin high and shoulders back, presenting a perfect image of strength even after experiencing something as traumatic as losing May.  

Peter’s relationship with trauma had been intimate enough these past few years that you weren’t shocked to see him like this, standing tall rather than balling up and crying on the floor. You figured that was what most others would do if they were in his situation.  

But Peter wasn’t like other people.  

Peter was a hero—and if you had learned anything about heroes in your lifetime, it was that they were incredible liars.  

His eyes couldn't lie, though.

Bloodshot and ringed with exhaustion, his eyes were what had made you feel so sick, your stomach twisting itself into knots.  

They lacked the life and hope of the boy you had loved so dearly, replaced with something like rage—a pure, unbridled and unrelenting type of rage. Looking at him now you couldn’t ignore the burning talon that seemed to rake against your mind, filling your brain with thoughts you didn’t want to think right now—telling you that looking at Peter now, with the light draining from his eyes, was the same as looking in a mirror.  

“Peter,” a metallic tang danced on your tongue as you dug your teeth into your cheek, biting back against the tears threatening to well-up in your eyes.  

Letting your instincts guide you, you rushed across the lobby to where he stood by the front door, reaching for his hand without a second thought.  

His suit had been torn along his palm, and as you felt the warmth radiating from his calloused skin, you tried to take some comfort in the fact that at least he had survived—even if you still weren’t ready to accept that May hadn’t.  

“Don’t,” He yanked his hand back from you, his voice hoarse. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”  

You froze for half a heartbeat, your hand hanging awkwardly in-between the two of you. “I wasn’t going to.”  

You weren’t sure if you were telling the truth, but it didn’t seem to matter either way.  

Either way, you tried to understand his reaction, even as you winced from the sting of rejection. What good would an apology really do for a boy who had already lost everything?  

It wouldn’t bring the light back to his eyes.  

It wouldn’t bring May back to life.  

“Ned told me everything,” you told him, unwilling or unable to say Mj’s name right now. You clenched and unclenched your fists, painfully aware of the absence of his warmth. “You know I’ll do anything I can to help, so just tell me what needs to be done and I’ll do it.”  

Peter scoffed, his jaw tensing. “We both know that what I want doesn’t matter,” he said bluntly. Motioning to your surroundings, he continued, “If what I wanted mattered, then we wouldn’t even be here. We wouldn’t be asking for your help—wouldn’t be dragging another person into this and asking them to risk their life!”  

You did your best not to react, knowing that he hadn’t meant it quite as bad as it sounded. It already hurt knowing that you had been Mj and Ned’s last choice for help, but knowing that Peter didn’t want you to be a choice at all hurt far worse—even if it was to keep you safe.  

“Well, you’re here now,” you told him, keeping your voice steady. “So you might as well tell me what your plan is—or at least tell me how long I’ll need to play bunkmates with strangers.”  

You were lying when you had told Mj and Ned that you needed to talk to Peter before agreeing to let the alternate Spider-Men stay in your apartment—you didn’t care about housing with strangers, aware that there was nothing they could do to you that you haven't endured before.  

Selfishly, you had just wanted a reason to come down and talk to him. To see him. To know that he was alive. You didn’t care about anything else.  

Sometimes you worried that you didn’t even care about your own life, only Peter’s.  

But Peter cared about your life—far more than you would ever want him to.  

“My plan doesn’t matter,” he said, his tone clipped, “cause I don’t want you getting involved. And I definitely don’t want you to let those guys stay here, alright? We don’t know them.”  

You steeled yourself, resisting the urge to argue with him and instead asking a simple question. “Do you have anywhere else for them to go?”  

He didn’t respond, huffing out a breath, already frustrated with the defiance he knew you were about to display.  

“You might not want my help, but if Ned’s right–” you told him, gesturing backwards towards the staircase, “–which he usually is—then you’re gonna need these guys.”  

“But that doesn’t mean we need you,” Peter protested gruffly.  

Your chest tightened, but you kept shoving back against the hurt. Later, you would deal with that later.  

“It doesn’t matter if you need me,” you retorted with a defiant tilt of your chin, unwavering as his rageful gaze seemed to pierce through your skull, “because you’re stuck with me either way.”  

You hadn’t expected the statement to affect him, but it did, his voice softening slightly. “I always have been.”  

“Exactly. So you might as well make this easy on the both of us and not fight me on it,” you declared, trying to conjure up the most convincing smile you could offer. “Let me help, Peter.”  

A sigh slipped his lips, heavy with reluctant resignation as he realized he wasn’t winning this battle. “We’ve already lost so many people… I’ve lost so many people. And there’s already enough blood on my hands,” he said, lifting his hands to display the torn, blood-stained fabric, driving his point home. “It doesn’t matter what I say—so let them stay here or don’t, I don’t care. But just know that whatever happens to you, it’s not on me. Because I told you to stay out of it, alright?”  

He took a step closer, and you didn’t dare move a single muscle as his lips hovered just inches from your own. “Do whatever you want,” his voice was barely a whisper, laced with a venomous edge that nearly made you tremble, “but don’t expect me to come running to save you when it all goes to shit.”  

His words hung in the air like a curse, lingering in the lobby for far longer than he did. As soon as the promise had left his lips, he was already turning on his heel and shoving the door open, abandoning you in the dim space.  

You knew better than to think he meant it.  

But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.  

You stuck your hands beneath the running faucet, scrubbing the blood from a jagged cut on your palm. It wasn’t all that deep, shallow enough that it probably wouldn't even leave a scar once healed. When you were done rinsing it, you cupped your hands and gathered the water in them, splashing your reddened cheeks.  

Crying would have been a normal part of grieving for May, and when you forced yourself to look back at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you couldn’t help but wish that you could’ve been a little more normal.  

But tears hadn’t been the cause of your flushed appearance—no, because you had never been very good at expressing the more delicate emotions, like sadness.  

You were good at expressing anger, though.  

You were very good at expressing anger.  

After Peter had stormed out of the lobby and abandoned you to choke on his cruel promise, it had taken you several minutes to work up the nerve to go back upstairs and face Mj and Ned. By some stroke of luck you had managed to keep a tight leash on your often volatile attitude, telling them your decision to let the other Peter’s stay with you.  

And then you lost control as soon as they left, loosening the reins on your anger and taking the uncomfortable feelings out on a nearby potted plant, shouting curses as you tossed it at the wall.  

By the time you thought to clean it up, after finishing another string of irate profanities, your hands had been shaking so bad that you cut yourself on one of the dirt-covered shards. And maybe, once you felt the jagged ceramic dig into your palm, you should’ve hissed or cursed more or stopped cleaning to patch yourself up.  

But you didn’t. You stayed quiet, continuing to pluck the shattered fragments off the floor until you had gotten them all, dumping them into the trash before grabbing the broom and dustpan and cleaning the dirt and scattered leaves, too.  

There were more important things to deal with than cleaning a dirty wound.  

Like making sure none of your friends could see that you weren’t nearly as composed as you tried to seem.  

The familiar rhythmic rapping of Mj’s knuckles against the front door made you forgo the bandage you were going to fix to your palm, tossing the rag you’d used to dry your face into the sink and heading straight to the living room.  

Carefully shoving your injured hand into your pocket, you opened the door and tried not to look surprised when Peter wasn’t standing in-between Mj and Ned. Of course he hadn’t come with them—why would he? He had already made it clear how he felt about all of this.  

It did become significantly harder to mask your shock however when a tall, messy haired boy stepped into view from behind them, clad in a crimson and cobalt webbed suit.  

“Get inside,” you hissed a bit harsher than intended, stepping aside and waving the three of them into your apartment.  

The last thing you needed was your neighbors seeing an unmasked, alternate version of Spider-Man standing in front of your door. It had already been risky enough that Peter had come here in his suit, standing in the lobby and sticking out like a sore thumb.  

Once they were inside, you shut the door and turned to Ned. “I thought you said there were two of them,” you noted, avoiding looking at the lanky Spider-Man who seemed just as desperate to avoid you, busying himself with walking around the room and studying the art on the walls.  

Ned shrugged. “He didn’t wanna come.”  

“Not that he didn’t want to come,” Mj pointedly corrected him, frowning at his bluntness. “He just wanted to keep patrolling. The Goblin, the one who…” she cut herself off, unable to force the words off her tongue. Scrapping the sentence altogether, she started again, “The Goblin’s from his world, so he seemed to think that he had the best chance of hunting him down. But we gave him the address.”  

You didn’t bother giving her an actual response, a subtle nod the only sign you had heard her at all. She didn’t seem to care much, just as unsure of what to say to you as you were to her.  

“So,” Ned clicked his tongue, trying to cut through the growing tension. “This is Peter 3!” He announced, gesturing to the other Peter, who was picking up a frame that had been face down on an end table. “That’s what we’re calling him, at least. Y’know, to tell them apart. The other one is Peter 2.”  

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Creative.”  

Done dawdling over Ned and Mj, you forced yourself to look at the un-masked hero from another world. He was placing the frame back onto the table—not face down, as he had found it, but up-right. You frowned at the photograph it displayed, a picture of you, Ned, Mj, and Peter from sometime last year.  

“You’re awfully nosy,” you told him, your voice like ice.  

His muscles tensed, hesitating as he faced your gaze. “Sorry,”  

His voice was slightly deeper than Peter’s, his hair a shade or two darker, his features a bit less soft, but still noticeably young, putting him in his early twenties at most. Truthfully, if it weren’t for the suit he was wearing, you would’ve never guessed that he was supposed to be the Peter Parker of another world.  

You had expected him to be more… Peter-like, in appearance, and yet as far as you could tell the resemblances were very slight, if they even existed at all.  

The mannerisms were there, though. The subtleties of Peter Parker, the things that most people never noticed and yet were ingrained in your mind. He licked his lips, a nervous tic that left you always carrying chapstick in your pocket. His hands hung at his sides and you saw the way his thumb tapped against each of his fingers, starting with his index and ending with his pinky, only to start over again.  

Watching him, taking note of every familiar twitch and tic and habit, made something in your chest tighten.  

And, when you told him your name, it was as if your icy tone had melted altogether. “It’s nice to meet you.”  

For a moment you thought he wouldn’t respond, his throat bobbing as he swallowed roughly, eyes darting around the room. But then, suddenly, he gave you a weak smile. “You too.” A trace of amusement laced his response, too subtle for you to detect.  

“We’ve gotta go,” Ned suddenly spoke, jutting a thumb towards the door. “Peter’s waiting outside so he can make sure we get home safe, but-” he stopped, brows furrowing as considered whether he should finish. “But text us later, okay? Just to let us know that you’re okay.”  

Your heart stuttered at the mention of Peter’s name, at knowing that he actually had come—even if it hadn’t been for you—but you didn’t mention it.  

Instead, you focused on Ned, giving your sweet friend the kindest smile you could muster—which, admittedly, didn’t feel like much. Despite everything that had happened with your friends in the past few months, your fight had never been with Ned. He was just caught in the middle, unfairly forced to pick sides.  

And you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him for picking Peter. Not when you knew that you would’ve done the same.  

“I will,” you promised.  

Ned gave you an equally somber smile before opening the door to leave. Even once Ned was in the hall, already descending the staircase, Mj lingered in the entryway—not for long, a heartbeat, maybe—turning back towards you just long enough to mutter, “Keep your guard up.”  

You didn’t have a chance to say anything back to her before she let the door slam shut, following quickly after Ned and leaving you alone with… this guy.  

The other Peter had abandoned his spot by the end table, seemingly done with investigating your apartment and left to do nothing but stand awkwardly a few feet away from you, clearly unsure of what to do or say now that it was just the two of you.  

“So,” you breathed out, popping your lips. “Peter 3, yeah? Good name. You go by that back home, too?”  

He laughed, a suit-clad hand nervously rising to the back of his neck. “Uh–yeah, no, definitely not. Just plain ole’ Peter Parker over there.”  

The nervous energy radiating from the boy almost seemed contagious as you started to pick at your nails. “Do you have a nickname?”  

He blinked, looking as if he hadn’t heard a word you said. “Sorry, what?”  

“A nickname,” you repeated, only for your brows to then furrow. “You have those where you’re from, don’t you? Nicknames? Like, you know, something you go by other than your actual name?”  

“Oh! Yes—sorry, yes we have nicknames in my world,” he exclaimed, his pale skin starting to flush.  

“I just thought that this whole numerical system thing that Ned’s going with to keep track of who’s who seems a little dehumanizing, yeah?”  

“For sure,” he agreed, sucking on his lip as he nodded along with you.  

You gave him a second, waiting and waiting for an answer to your apparently long-forgotten question, before asking, “So… Do you have one?”  

The slight blush that had tinged his skin instantly darkened, suddenly the same shade of crimson as his suit. His grip on the back of his neck tightened, too, his fingertips prodding into his own skin.  

“Sorry-” he apologized for the millionth time, more nervous laughter spilling out alongside it, “I do! I mean, sort of, I think. I don’t know if it’s really a nickname, but back in my world you really just called me by my last name most of the time anyway, so–I don’t know—maybe that would work?”  

The sheer quantity of word vomit spewing from his mouth was impressive and likely hard-to-follow for most, but you consider yourself a bit of an expert in the anxious ramblings of Peter Parker.  

“In your world?” You echoed, instantly catching the subtle mention. “We know each other?”  

Maybe it shouldn’t have been shocking to learn that there were other versions of you throughout the multiverse as well, and yet it was. You figured that it was plausible, of course, considering that two variations of Peter had just been thrown into your world, but for some reason it just didn’t feel right.  

You reasoned that anyone would feel that way, though.  

“Yeah,” the boy, Parker, answered, a bit clipped. “We do.”  

“Interesting.” Your brows lifted, “Are we friends?”  

Parker scrunched his nose, his head tilting slightly.  

“Yeah,” his voice was an octave higher than before, and if you knew him better, then you likely would’ve called him on the obvious tell. But you didn’t know him, and so you didn’t say anything when he decided to double-down on the lie, “Yeah, we’re friends.”  

“Well I guess that means that this is just as weird for you as it is for me, then.” You laughed, trying to add some humor to the situation.  

Parker gave a tightlipped smile. “Definitely weird.”  

The seconds felt like they stretched into minutes after that, silently racking your brain for something to say, hoping that he might say something—but, eventually, you settled on offering an escape from the situation instead.  

“You’re probably exhausted from the whole multiversal travel thing, so if you want, I can just show you the guest room and give you some privacy or something,” you told him, vaguely gesturing towards the hallway.  

Parker seemed to relax a bit at the prospect of being alone, loosing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Uhm–yeah, that’d be great, actually.”  

He followed you down the short hall, his hand finally falling from his neck and his skin returning to its normal complexion as his nerves began to wane.  

“This is it,” you told him, the hinges crying out as you shoved the door open. “It’s not much, but it’s somewhere to sleep, at least.”  

Wasn’t much felt like an understatement, though the room was typical for a New York apartment.  

A tad bigger than your average shoebox, there was just enough space to fit a full-sized bed, a small armoire, and a single nightstand adorned with an old desk lamp and a little pink teddy bear—a gift from Peter, years ago.  

Parker walked into the room, looking around and brushing his fingertips against the emerald quilt. It was a bit old and somewhat thin, but it was better than nothing you supposed, and Parker certainly didn’t seem like he was going to complain about it.  

“It’s great,” he assured you, and even though he did sound genuine, you couldn’t help but snort. He looked over at where you still stood in the doorway, giving you a timid smile as he said, “Way better than sleeping on the streets.”  

You returned the gesture, lazily lifting a shoulder. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning. That mattress is about a hundred years old, so it’s probably the equivalent of sleeping on really lumpy cement.”  

Parker hummed his amusement, carefully perching on the edge of the bed, his smile seeming to deepen when he caught sight of the little bear on the nightstand.  

“I guess I’ll let you get some sleep,” you told him, reaching for the door handle, “if you need anything—extra blankets, or something—just let me know; my room’s right across the hall.”  

He muttered his thanks, but as you went to pull the door closed, you heard your name fall from his lips. It was strange sounding, strangled and foreign, like he didn’t quite know how to say it. When you turned back to face him, a subtle wince seemed to etch across his face.  

“Can I… Can I ask you something?” Parker stammered out the question, his voice faltering like a candle flame in the wind.  

You nodded once, fingers still wrapped around the knob, savoring the coolness of the brass against the now-clotted wound on your palm.

He took a breath, his gaze momentarily flickering back to the teddy bear on the nightstand. His thoughts felt heavy on his tongue as he tried to force them out of his mouth, “Are you happy?”  

You blinked at him, unsure of what to make of the hope that seemed to cling to each syllable and half-wondering if you’d heard him right.  

“I-” you tried to start, only to realize that you had no clue what to say.  

There was a fleeting moment where you realized that you could tell him the truth. You could tell him that happiness felt like a distant shore far from your reach, forever obscured by the fiery tempest of a brutal and ancient rage—a rage that, sometimes, didn’t even feel like your own.  

But then he looked at you with those big, expectant eyes; eyes that should have been foreign to you, and yet felt so familiar—and you realized that he wouldn’t like that answer.  

Sucking in a breath, you evaded his question as best you could. “Ask me again when all of this is over,” you told him, your lips curving into a soft, playful arc, “and maybe I’ll tell you the truth.”  

This time when you went to close the door, he didn’t stop you.  

series masterlist

a/n - i wish that i could properly express just how amazing (and terrifying) it has been to rewrite this story. first created at quite possibly the lowest point of my life, infinitely you has provided me with a necessary escape at a time when i desperately needed it. now that i'm in a better position, i found it necessary to give it the plot, writing style, and dedication that it deserved. i'm aware some people might not be interested in a rewrite and that's ok, but for those that are i just wanna say: thank you, thank you, thank you for giving infinitely you (and me) another shot. you're incredible.

if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, just let me know! as of right now, chapters will be posted every other monday, though i may switch that to weekly soon!

part two, titled "crullers & constants", to be released april 1st

INFINITELY YOU

part three // spitfire

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, minors DNI

WORD COUNT - 4.5k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker // tobey!peter = pete

On the walk back from Peter Pan’s, it seemed as though Parker had managed to entirely escape the sputtering awkwardness that had ensnared him the night before. 

And, after countless city blocks of listening to him babble about absolutely everything and anything, you realized that there was one very striking similarity between him and Peter. 

Both boys had a fervent interest in all things nerd. 

“New Hope takes place nearly two decades after the rise of the Galactic Empire, meaning that Leia is only nineteen when she's kidnapped and forced aboard the Death Star! Which is like, absolutely insane, right? Seriously! Imagine being nineteen years old and stuck inside of something that has the potential to obliterate an entire planet!” 

Shoving open the lobby door to your complex, Parker hardly even waits for you to hum your agreement before continuing his retelling of the Star Wars film. 

“And at the exact same time, Luke is finally beginning his Jedi training! Which, honestly, nineteen is actually super old for that, but-” 

Moving towards the stairs, Parker close on your heels, you cut him off with a question. “Too old? Nineteen is hardly even an adult,” you argue. “What age do most Jedi start training?” 

“About four or five, so obviously Luke was way behind,” 

Not even a full three stairs up, you come to a grinding halt, leaving Parker to bump into your back. “Four?!” You cry out, wide-eyed as you spin around to face him. “That’s insane!” 

Parker only lifts his shoulders, clearly not understanding the reason for your horror. 

Furthering your point, you add, “There’s nothing ethical about taking a bunch of little kids and training them to be weird, intergalactic warriors!” 

“It’s the best way to train them!” He lifts his hand defensively, explaining, “The earlier they start training, the less likely it is that the kids will have formed an attachment to their families! That way they learn to act out of logic instead of emotion!” 

For a heartbeat, you’re rendered entirely speechless by the absurdity of his claim, left to stand with your mouth agape as you blink at him. 

“That sounds like emotional abuse,” you finally huff, shaking your head. “Actually, scratch that—it doesn’t sound like emotional abuse, it just is!” 

“It’s not abuse-” 

You hold a hand up, stopping him before he can say anything else. “Give me one good reason why a group of adults should withhold love and affection from children if they aren’t abusing them.” 

“Uh, how about the fact that love is basically what made Anakin turn to the dark side!” Parker scoffs, clearly unwilling to recognize how insane the notion he was pushing actually is. 

“Or maybe Anakin turned to the dark side because he was indoctrinated and traumatized by some stupid space cult!” 

The expression on his face is downright laughable. 

It was as if you had just reached out and slapped him across the face. His jaw went slack, his mouth hung open in blatant offense. As a sputtering noise falls from his lips, trying and failing to come up with a good rebuttal, you smirk. 

“Exactly,” you boast, taking his inability to speak as a sign of victory. 

Twirling on your heel, you continue up the stairs, nearly all the way to the top before you finally hear him come stomping up behind you. 

“The Jedi Order is not a cult!” He finally shouts after you. 

Already traipsing through the hallway, fiddling with your keys, you sing-song, “Whatever you say, bug-boy.” 

Reluctant to admit defeat, Parker continues grumbling under his breath as you unlock the door, spouting something off about your lack of respect for George Lucas. 

“Look,” you tell him, pushing the door open, “if liking Star Wars matters this much to you, then I’ll gladly watch them with you.” A wry smile plays on your lips as you turn to look at him, standing in the doorway, “Maybe watching them will be enough to change my opinion on turning kids into galactic slaves.” 

Eyes narrowing in a playful glare, he’s only able to hold the expression for less than a few seconds before a laugh causes him to break character. “I just can’t believe that Peter hasn’t made you watch them already,” he admits. “I had you watch them so much that you could probably recite the scripts from memory alone!” 

His amusement dies off as soon as he finishes the sentence. Despite having been the one to bring it up, the mention of his world seems to cast a sullen shadow over him, ruining his sweet, boyish smile. 

Curiosity instantly claws at you, begging you to ask him why his world seemed to have such a negative effect on him. Or, rather, why his version of you seemed to have such an effect. 

This had happened last night too, when you had asked him if the two of you were friends in his world—and it was because of this that you assume that you’re somehow the common denominator in his discomfort. 

Still, you don’t let yourself ask him about it. For as much as you’re starting to like Parker, you don’t know him nearly well enough to try prying into his life. 

Not yet, at least. 

“Well, you’re more than welcome to force me into sitting through them in this world, too.” You tell him sweetly, sweeping an arm out to gesture inside of your apartment, inviting him. “It’s not like I’ve got any plans for the rest of the day.” 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you did have plans. Life had been so quiet since that last night with Peter and Mj—the night when everything went so horribly wrong. 

Parker sucks in a breath through his teeth, a hand coming to rest against the back of his neck. “I should probably get back out on the streets,” he reluctantly says, sounding more like he was convincing himself of that than you. “But, I don’t know, maybe we can take a rain check on it, yeah?” 

Disappointment washes over you, sudden enough that you’re sure it shines through on your face. It takes a shocking amount of willpower to stop yourself from trying to persuade him to stay, wanting to remind him that two other Spider-Men were already running themselves ragged in pursuit of the villains—so why did he have to go, too? 

You had grown used to his constant talking, having found solace in the chatter that kept you from slipping too far into your own thoughts. Selfishly, you wanted him to stay so that you wouldn’t have to be alone; so that you wouldn’t have to risk thinking too long about Doctor Strange or the multiverse or constants or Peter. 

The thought of admitting any of that out loud, however, felt incredibly humiliating. 

“For sure,” you force a smile, trying to ignore the many thoughts swirling in your mind. Then, eyeing the slightly too-tight Ramones shirt that he’d stolen from you, you add, “But shouldn’t you at least come in and change?” 

His nose wrinkles slightly as he shakes his head. “Nah—I think this city has more than enough spider-people swinging around it right now. I figure we might actually benefit from one of us patrolling on the ground-level, y’know? Maybe I can ask around for any giant lizards or blown light bulbs.” 

It’s hard to tell if the last bit is meant to be a joke or not, but you laugh anyway if only to avoid knowing why you should be worried about lizards and light bulbs. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you second his idea. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then?” 

A surprising sense of joy lights his eyes at the sound of your hesitance, unfitting of the simplicity of the moment, but charming nonetheless. He grins—a wide and endearing sort of grin—as he takes a step back, “I won’t be gone long,” he promises before reminding you, “lock the door behind you, alright? And if you need anything-” 

He pauses, patting the pockets of his jeans only to remember that he didn’t bring a phone with him to this universe—and that, even if he did, there likely wasn’t a wireless plan good enough to support multiversal travel. 

“If you need anything, call 911.” 

“Got it,” you laugh, watching as he stumbles backwards towards the stairwell, cheeks red with faint embarrassment. 

Turning to go inside, you can’t ignore the warmth that now blooms in your chest. 

You could definitely get used to having him around. 

A peculiar sensation prickles at your skin, curling along your spine like icy fingertips. 

Something was wrong. Very wrong. 

The usually comfortable atmosphere of your apartment had shifted. An eerie tension fills the space, a near-suffocating feeling that has the very walls holding their breath, humming a tune of warning as you inch further into the living room. 

Your stomach twists as the sharp tang of exhaust fumes fills your nostrils. By the couch, a faint breeze rustles the curtains of a window, wafting in the nauseating scent of the city street below—a window that hadn’t been open when you left earlier. 

A mere foot or so away, you notice that the picture frame Parker had been fiddling with before is now lying on its face, having been knocked off the end table and abandoned. Atop the table, you notice that the lamp is sitting askew, its base just inches from tumbling over the edge and joining the frame. 

Someone had come in through your window—and it didn’t appear as though stealth had been very important to them, given that they had clearly stumbled into the table upon their entrance. 

Adrenaline floods your senses, your spine stiffening as you take a series of slow, quiet steps. 

Moving towards the corner, you carefully reach out a hand to grab the metal bat propped against the wall. The bat had been an unlikely housewarming present from when you first moved in, given to you by Peter’s mentor and your own reluctant renegade, Tony Stark. For nearly two years now it had sat in this corner, unused and gathering dust—until now. 

You wrap your fingers tightly around the base, wincing slightly as the rubber grip pulls at the still-healing flesh on your palm, making you curse yourself for not properly bandaging the wound last night. 

But you’re used to pain—and so you’re easily able to bite back against it as you ease through the living room, checking for any sign of the intruder's presence. 

As you walk, gripping the bat like your life depends on it, you can’t help but hear Tony Stark’s voice echo in your mind. 

If you’re gonna live alone, then you should have some sort of protection—he had told you, gently placing the cool steel into your hands for the first time, a ribbon tied sloppily around it—not that you need it. 

Satisfied with your search of the living room, you start easing towards the hall. You’re good at sneaking around, having had a lot of practice at it—every movement you make is calculated, every footfall so purposefully gentle that it’s nearly silent. 

Quiet as you were, you could do nothing to ease the sound of your blood thrumming wildly in your own ears, your heart pounding against your chest. 

The incessant beating worries you—because you know that there are people in the world with the unnatural ability to hear such things. Peter, even with his enhanced hearing, had to be close to someone in order to hear something as soft as their heartbeat; but you had heard rumors that there were others who could hear a pulse from miles away, others like the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

The thought makes your blood run cold, though you try to push the worries from your mind. From what you know, the Devil doesn’t have a habit of breaking into apartments, nor was Queen's his usual jurisdiction. 

No—what you were dealing with had to be no more than an average burglar! 

An average burglar who, somehow, scaled up the side of a building to break into your apartment… 

Alright—you think, approaching the end of the hall—perhaps it’s a not-so-average burglar, then! Still better than the Devil. 

Peeling one hand from the bat’s handle, you curl your fingers around the doorknob to the guest room, Parker’s room. You ease the door open slowly, trying to keep the old hinges from crying out as you peer into the space. 

The sweet scent of vanilla is the first thing that hits you, contrasted by the subtle bite of vetiver. 

Parker—the room smells of him, even though he had only been here for one night. 

On the bed, the quilt is rumpled and thrown about, pillows strewn about. The doors of the armoire are wide open, a few old shirts hanging over the edge of one of the shelves, no doubt from when he went digging through your clothes in search of something to wear. 

The room was messy, but empty. 

Your shoulders sag, half-a-breath loosing from your lungs. The relief is short-lived, however; as by the time you edge back into the hall to turn towards your own door, you’re overwhelmed with dread. 

If whoever broke in was still here, then this was the only place they could be—save for the bathroom, though you seriously doubt any burglar would have much interest in scouring through your toiletries… 

Easily, gracefully, you twist the knob, the metal yielding quietly to your careful touch. 

The curtains are tightly drawn, eradicating any trace of sunlight and leaving the room cloaked in shadows. But, even in the darkness, you’re able to see the rough outline of a figure sprawled out across your mattress. 

For a split second, you think of Parker’s advice to call 911, the weight of your phone suddenly heavy in your back pocket. 

You think of how you should follow that advice. 

You think about how fast you could run—if you would be able to reach the front door before they could catch up to you. 

But then you stop thinking, disregarding all logic and reason as you take a step into the room, as if drawn in by some invisible force. 

Remaining mindful of your surroundings, you slowly approach the edge of the bed. Squinting in the darkness, you try to study the body laid out atop your comforter. Watching the steady rise-and-fall of their chest, it suddenly hits you that, whoever they are, they’re asleep. 

Slinking around the corner and coming to stand at your bedside, you’re finally close enough that you can see them in spite of the absence of light. Crimson and blue spandex clings tightly to their arms as they cling one of your pillows to their chest, and you feel your entire body sag with relief as you loosen your grip on the bat. 

So this must be Peter 2. 

The fabric of his mask is bunched up and resting along the bridge of his nose, which is somewhat smushed against the pillow he’s holding, no doubt leaving him to breathe in the scent of laundry detergent and your perfume. 

Lower, you can make out the subtle contours of his jawline and the curve of soft, pink lips. Higher, you’re met with the impassive stare of then white lenses sewn into his mask. 

The lenses shield his eyes from your view, and a curious feeling begins to tug at the furthest corners of your mind. Take it off—it seems to whisper, compelling you to move in closer, your shins pressing against the side of the mattress—take it off. 

You grit your teeth and try to ignore the feeling, try to ignore the velvet-voice slithering through your mind; begging you to look at him, to touch him, to notice him, to-

Pain shoots along the side of your temple, likely in response to the sudden tightness in your jaw. It distracts you enough that you’re able to shake the strange feeling long enough to regain your focus—even if the remnants of it still linger. 

You shouldn’t be interested in him—you should be pissed at him. 

Not only had he broken into your house, which was already bad enough, but he had also climbed into your bed and made himself cozy! The absolute gall, the audacity he must have, has you allowing the tiniest sliver of rage to ignite inside of you. 

Both hands still gripping the bat, you lower it from where it rests against your shoulder to swiftly jab its head into his stomach. 

A cough sputters past his lips as the impact pushes the air from his lungs. 

You’re actually shocked that you landed the blow—in truth, you had expected his spider-sense to kick in and detect the incoming hit, waking him with just enough time to dodge the shot. But, apparently, his instincts had made the mistake of assuming that you were of no threat to him. 

“Morning sunshine,” you chime, your feigned cheerfulness set off by a sneer. 

He’s scrambling into an upright position, knees sinking into the mattress as he presses a hand against the sore spot you’d created on his stomach. “What the fu-” 

His voice is hoarse—from sleep or pain, you’re not sure—and he doesn’t finish the curse spewing from his mouth once his head shoots up towards you, as if finally registering the sound of your voice. 

“I don’t know what things are like in your world,” you muse, swinging your bat back to rest against your shoulder, “but in this one, breaking and entering is considered a crime.” 

He’s still catching his breath, and while those damn white lenses covering his eyes give so little emotion away, you assume that he’s going to apologize. It’s what Peter would do, and Parker, too. 

But not him. 

“Your friends said I could stay here,” he defends himself. Taking another deep breath and extinguishing the burning in his lungs, the lower-half of his face transforms into a defiant smirk. “It’s not breaking and entering if you were invited.” 

“And did they tell you to sleep in my bed, too?” You shoot back, brows rising in annoyance. “Word of advice: next time you’re invited to stay in a total stranger’s house, maybe try not to repay their kindness by crawling through their window.” 

He mocks you without missing a beat, “Word of advice: you live in a shitty neighborhood—if you don’t want people coming through your windows, you should try locking them.” 

“Ah, right! Cause the average person is definitely willing to scale the side of a building for the prospect of an unlocked window!” 

“You’re a pretty girl in a dangerous city,” he drones, lifting a shoulder as he meets your sarcasm with purposeful calm. “You’d be surprised what people would be willing to do for a chance at getting you alone.” 

The insinuation sends a shiver down your spine, but you mask your unease, flashing a smile that’s more predatory than sweet. “Aw,” you coo, “so you think I’m pretty?” 

He returns the expression, skillfully avoiding your derisive question. “I think you’re irresponsible—and a little cocky.” 

“Better to be cocky than a felon,” you remark. “Just spare my neighbors the acrobatics show next time, would you? Maybe try knocking on the door like a normal person! Preferably when you’re not dressed like… that.” 

It’s not that his suit wasn’t nice, because it was. But it lacks the advanced Stark-tech that makes Peter’s suit so uniquely sleek, meaning that it was likely safe to assume that no one in this world would mistake this boy for the real Spider-Man. 

Unless they were to catch him scaling up the side of your building… 

“I tried knocking.” he sounds exasperated, as if you are testing his patience. “You weren’t home.” 

You snort a laugh, wondering if he truly believes that is all the reason he needs to break into someone's home. 

“Then you should’ve waited until I got home,” 

“I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. I was too tired to wait.” 

“Then you should’ve slept in the alleyway with the rest of the strays,” you hiss at him, fingers tightening around the bat as your frustration builds. 

The sheer ferocity in your voice gives him pause, stunning him into silence. 

Then the corner of his mouth begins to twitch upwards, lazily grinning at you as if he actually enjoys the verbal onslaught. 

You can tell that he’s watching you through those white lenses, and his tongue darts over his bottom lip, you feel your breath catch in your throat. “Fine,” amusement dances in his tone as he raises his gloved hands, “fair enough.” 

For a moment, no sound comes from your parted lips, leaving you to stand there gaping at him until you remember how to speak. “Fair enough?” You echo, shaking your head slightly. “That’s all you’ve got? No apology?” 

He moves, forcing you to take a step back as he shoves his legs over the side of the bed and rises to his feet. He’s not as tall as Parker, but he still stands an inch or so higher than you, making it hard to not feel intimidated as he stares down at you, your own face staring back from the reflection of his lenses. 

“Better not push your luck, Spitfire,” 

He’s baiting you—he has to be! Using a stupid nickname to get under your skin, to try and prod further at your short temper. And it’s working—god, you hate how much it’s working!—because you find yourself contemplating putting his superhuman durability to the test by whacking him over the head with your bat. 

“By the way,” he says before you have a chance to act on your intrusive thoughts, pointing at your hands, “you’re bleeding.” 

As if his words switch a flip in your head, you’re suddenly aware of the acute throbbing in your palm. You loosen your grip on the bat, letting it clatter recklessly to the floor as you hold your hand out to examine it. 

Unsurprisingly, the rubber handle managed to tear open the barely-healed cut on your palm, courtesy of your too-tight grip on it. You hiss through your teeth, watching as blood oozed from the cut, dripping down towards your wrist. 

Slipping past you, the boy only half-manages to stifle his laugh. “You should probably take care of that.” 

He’s already slipping out into the hall by the time you regain enough awareness to follow after him, gritting your teeth against the pain. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” 

“To the other room,” he calls over his shoulder. Once he’s standing in front of Parker’s door, he spins back around to face you, his snarky expression still in-tact. “Where I’m hoping you won’t follow me.” 

Everything about him causes your blood to boil—his grating voice, his insolent attitude, his stupid soft lips. 

“Would it kill you to be nice to me?” You exclaim, your voice strained with pain as you try to wrap your hand in the lower half of your shirt. 

It takes no-time for blood to start seeping through the thin material, and you certainly don’t look intimidating like this—the lower half of your abdomen on display as you try to apply whatever pressure you can to the wound—but you don’t care. 

“I don’t have to let you and Parker stay in my house—I’m doing it because I’m nice, alright? And, so far, you’ve been nothing but a dick!” 

The thin fabric of his mask shifts, brows furrowing at the mention of Parker. Unlike Peter, however, he doesn’t bother commenting on the nickname. “Nice isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe you. Especially since you’re the one calling me names.” 

The levity in his tone makes you want to scream—what was his deal?! 

You press harder against your bleeding palm, your breathing turning shallow. You’re not sure if it’s frustration or pain or what, but you feel like your head is spinning. “Look, I don’t know you, alright? But this? Isn’t gonna work,” you bark at him, chin lifted defiantly as you stare into his mask, unrelenting. “If you plan on staying in my house, then you’ll get your shit together—got it?” 

His head tilts, curiously watching as you continue your frantic speech. 

“No crawling in through my windows or sleeping in my bed or smarting shit off! And take off that stupid mask!” You huff, shaking your head. “Or, I don’t know, pull it down the rest of the way! Just do something because you look stupid like that!” 

The words are spewing from your mouth like a torrential downpour, fueled by the rage swirling in your stomach and the throbbing in your hand and—

He laughs, a genuine laugh that isn’t born of derision, and you feel your racing thoughts slow to a halt. “You should work on your insults,” reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs his mask off. “Because that was pathetic.” 

It’s no longer just your thoughts that have slowed, but the entire world. Everything around you feels like it has come skidding to a stop—leaving you staring up at him like a dumbfounded idiot. 

He’s beautiful—a commonality among Peter’s variants, it seems. 

He’s smirking, an infuriatingly charming smirk that lets you know he has no intention of listening to your demands for him to silence his quick wit. But you’re not focusing on that—no, you’re focusing on the features that had been hidden from you this whole time; his dark hair, tousled from removing his mask, falls in a chaotic halo around his face, contrasting the vibrance of his eyes. 

His eyes. 

They leave you breathless, and you hate it. Colored with the deepest cerulean you’ve ever seen, his eyes feel like staring into the depths of a crystalline ocean. You can almost feel yourself getting swept up in their tides, feel them enveloping you in a feeling of familiarity, as if this wasn’t the first time you had been pulled into their ebbing waters. 

“Have we–” your mouth has gone dry, your voice cracking. “Have we met before?” 

It’s a ridiculous question, and you recognize that even as it’s spilling from your lips. You couldn’t have met him before—not when the two of you weren’t even from the same universe! 

He seems to be thinking the same thing, and you’re already preparing to take the full force of whatever smartass comment he’s about to fling at you. “I’ve met you,” he says simply, taking you by surprise. Then he inclines his head towards your still-bleeding hand, “You should patch yourself up before you stain the carpet.” 

You look down at your hand, at the hem of your shirt, soaked in blood. 

“But just so I know,” you look back up, his body half-turned towards the door, his fingers resting against the knob, “if Peter and Parker are already taken, then who does that make me?” 

You have to force yourself to take a breath. “What did I call you in your world?” He’s silent for a moment, staring at the floor and chewing on his lip. Then, pushing the door to Parker’s room—their room—open, he smiles.

“Pete.”

a/n - ayyy, pete's finally here! and, ofc, lots of other little important details sprinkled around as well.

also, i really wanna say thank you to everyone who has been reading and enjoying this story so far! it truly means the world to me to read all of the nice comments and to know that you guys are interested in this story! so, again, thank you 💖 as always, please comment/like/reblog and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

part four, titled "blooms of subterfuge", to be released april 29th