Chapter Text
The vigilantes had brought them to one of the red one’s safe houses. Peter had only begrudgingly agreed to go along with them since any homeless shelters would be locked up for the night. Besides, the vigilantes definitely weren’t going leave them be and let them continue looking for an abandoned place to squat in.
The safe house wasn’t too far away from the clinic but it had still been quite a walk. The vigilantes had offered to carry Tommy so Peter wouldn’t have to or at least take their bags, but they had refused.
The only reason why they weren’t soaking wet from the rain was because the blue one had bought the three of them some plastic raincoats from a nearby 24/7 convenience store. While Peter wasn’t currently fond of the vigilantes, he did appreciate the gesture, and not getting soaked.
Part of him was regretting not saying that their parents were in “Gotham”, but that would have only led to the vigilantes trying to reunite them with their parents who very much aren’t in the city, or even in this universe.
What kind of name was “Gotham” anyway? It certainly fit the vibe of the city, with the gloomy atmosphere and gargoyles that Peter kept spotting everywhere. It was very over the top in his opinion, nothing like the calm, happy town they had run from.
The gargoyles did look like they’d be fun to perch and hang from though, so he would give them points for that.
Not that he was planning on doing that.
That would probably get him in trouble, or at the very least bring more attention to himself, and with that attention would come more annoying questions.
Peter was really sick of being asked questions by these vigilantes, especially when the red one, (He should probably learn their names. He’d do that once he got access to the internet.), accused their parents of hurting them. Even thinking about it made his blood boil.
Figuratively speaking.
He was actually pretty cold at the moment but that’s not the point.
Their parents would never do anything like that! They had literally just been fighting The Avengers to keep them from getting hurt!
A quiet part of him, the one trained by years of being Spider-Man, told him that it was a logical assumption for the vigilantes to make given the limited information they had. It told him that, if he had found kids running over rooftops at night, clearly injured and defensive, that he probably would have come to a similar conclusion.
But the louder part of him was still angry. So, he continued to glare at the back of the red helmet of the vigilante in front of him as he was unlocking the door leading into the safe house.
Red opened the door, gesturing for the boys to enter and telling them to hang their raincoats on the nearby coat rack. It appeared to be a regular apartment, or it would if it wasn’t for several weapon displays. Part of Peter was impressed and slightly in awe of all the cool different weapons that this guy had, the other part was going full panicked older brother mode. Having all these weapons hung up definitely wasn’t safe. Knowing his brothers, they would definitely want a closer look and probably end up hurting themselves.
Looking down at the twins, Peter could see that they were already looking in awe at the weapons. He sighed to himself. He would have to keep an extra close eye on the two. Not that he wasn’t going to be doing that anyway.
Red also noticed the boys staring at the weapon displays. “Don’t touch those.” He said seriously.
The red vigilante led them through the apartment, giving them a small tour of the place while the blue one followed behind all of them. Overall, it was a nice apartment. It had a decent bedroom, bathroom, living area with a TV, a small laundry and a kitchen. There were also a handful of bookshelves around with some titles Peter recognised. Mostly classics. All perfectly normal. But there were also things that you wouldn’t find in a normal apartment. More than just the weapon displays.
There was an escape hatch located in one of the corners of the apartment, hidden ever so subtly. Peter probably wouldn’t have noticed it if he wasn’t scanning the apartment for anything out of the ordinary. He could also tell that the apartment had an elaborate security system if the buzzing of electricity running throughout the place was anything to go by.
They stood in the living area, the tour now concluded. Their bags resting on the floor next to the couch. Both of the vigilantes were standing in front of the three of them. The silence seemed to stretch, none of them quite sure what to say. It was the red helmeted man who broke it.
“It’s late and you’re probably tired, but I want to lay down some ground rules.” He said. “First things first, don’t touch any of the weapons. They’re not toys. You will get hurt.” Even though he was wearing a helmet, it was obvious that he was giving the boys a serious look.
“Also don’t break anything. You’re free to watch the TV or read any of the books but don’t damage them. I mean it. No dog-earing pages and don’t read while you’re drinking or eating. And just in general try not to cause any problems.”
The three boys nodded in agreement and the awkward silence returned. Peter helped Tommy off of his back and onto the red-brown leather couch. Peter could hear the blue vigilante walk to the kitchen, rummaging around in what sounded like the freezer. When he looked up Blue was offering him an ice pack.
“For Tommy’s ankle.” He said, handing over the ice pack.
“Really? I thought you were giving it to me to eat.” Peter said sarcastically. Was it his best quip? No. But he wasn’t going to waste his good material on these guys. That’s the only reason. “Thanks though.” He added more sincerely.
After getting Tommy’s leg propped up and iced he stood up. Billy was standing next to his twin but he was eyeing Red’s book collection, likely trying to see if he had anything interesting or anything Billy wasn’t able to bring with him when they left.
“You should probably clean the blood off of your face and change that shirt.” Red said. He was leaning against one of the walls now, arms crossed. “I assume that you have some spare clothes in your bag. If not I can probably lend you something. It’ll be big on you but I don’t exactly have anything that would fit you properly.”
“That won’t be necessary, I have my own, Thanks.” Peter said, probably colder than was required, but he wasn’t exactly fond of the Red vigilante at the moment.
He picked up his bag and made his way to the bathroom, but not before reminding his brothers not to touch any of the weapons and telling them to shout if they needed him. Peter was apprehensive about leaving his brothers alone with the vigilantes and out of his line of sight but the vigilantes weren’t displaying any hostility towards them yet and he would be listening carefully with his enhanced sense of hearing. Besides, the vigilantes weren’t the only ones wanting Peter to clean off the blood.
He could see the way that the twins would cringe slightly whenever they looked at his previously broken nose and the drying blood. At the very least washing off the blood would grant them some peace until his nose fully healed. Peter also wanted to wash off the blood simply because it made him feel gross. The dried blood pulled at his skin and the smell of iron wasn’t exactly pleasant.
He entered the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He sighed, walking over to the sink and dropping his bag beside it. He rested both hands on the cool white ceramic of the sink, looking at himself in the mirror, wincing slightly at what he saw.
It was by no means the worst he had seen himself. Far from it. He’d gotten way more hurt as Spider-Man. But that didn’t mean that he looked good either. His nose was no longer crooked, he had already set it back into place, but there were dark bruises over its bridge, spreading under his eyes. Not mentioning the dried blood that trailed down his lower face and onto his shirt.
His poor shirt. He’d try to wash as much blood out of it before he asked if he could use the washing machine. Hopefully it wouldn’t stain.
Peter took a couple squares of toilet paper, folding them over themselves and running them under cool water from the sink. He used them to delicately wipe away the blood from his skin before flushing them down the toilet.
Next he took off his shirt, turning on the tap again and running it under the water. He took a bit of soap and started trying to scrub as much blood out of it as possible. It took some time but he finally got to the point where the water was no longer tinged red.
He squeezed out the water and left the shirt hanging over the edge of the sink. He reached into his bag and pulled out the first shirt that he could find. It was his black “The Physics is Theoretical but The Fun is Real” shirt. He pulled it on and grabbed the other shirt from the sink and his bag, exiting the bathroom.
He walked back into the living space to find Tommy flipping through channels on the TV while Billy sat next to him reading a book that he had probably taken from one of the shelves, occasionally looking up to comment on what was on the screen.
The blue vigilante was standing nearby, also making small commentary on what was on the TV. He was most likely doing so to create a less awkward atmosphere between them and it was ever so slightly working. The twins were actually responding to what he was saying, still somewhat tense and untrusting, but clearly getting more comfortable with his presence.
Peter couldn’t see the red one but he could hear him in the kitchen and could smell what he was cooking. It smelled pretty good, but maybe that was just his hunger talking. He wasn’t starving but they hadn’t gotten to eat lunch. Of course The Avengers couldn’t have waited to attack them until later in the day. Thanks to his advanced metabolism along with the fact that he had been fighting and then running and jumping over rooftops you can bet that he’s hungry.
Tommy was probably in a similar boat, being a speedster and therefore also having an advanced metabolism and all that. No doubt that he was probably hungry as well. Billy would also be getting hungry too but his metabolism was that of a normal teenage boy.
Point was, they were hungry. Peter hoped that the red vigilante was making food for all of them and not just for himself. Though, that made Peter feel guilty. The vigilante was already doing them a service by letting the three of them stay at his safe house for the night (slightly forced as it was.). It would be unfair for them to expect to be fed as well.
Peter was brought out of his thoughts as he walked further into the living area, being noticed by the others there. The blue vigilante sent a kind smile his way.
“You’re looking better.” He said, then after noticing his shirt continued, “Nice shirt.”
“Oh.” Peter said simply, blinking at the man, not expecting to be brought out of his thoughts. “Thank you?” He stumbled out afterward. It sounded more like a question than a statement of gratitude.
The blue vigilante continued, unfazed. “I take it that you like science then? Your other shirt was science themed too, from memory.”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I do. And, yes, it was. My shirt,I mean. Science themed.” Peter responded, still slightly caught off guard, both from being brought out of his thoughts and the line of questioning. He wasn’t expecting the vigilante to question him about his shirt and love of science.
“Do you have a specific area of science that you’re interested in?” Asked the blue vigilante.
“Well, I like bio-chem the most, I think. But I also enjoy physics.” Peter gestured at the shirt that he was wearing. “Obviously. I like engineering as well. Honestly, it’s all really interesting and there’s plenty of instances where they can overlap and-“
Peter cut himself off. He had let himself get a little too excited about answering the question. He hadn’t even noticed that he was staring to move his hands around as he did when he talking about something he enjoyed. Annoyed at himself and feeling slightly embarrassed for letting his guard down, even for a brief moment, he cleared his throat, trying to move the conversation along without embarrassing himself further.
“Anyway, that’s not important.” Peter said. To avoid being asked any more questions he asked a question instead. “Am I allowed to use the washing machine? I’d like to give this a wash if I could.” He said holding up the damp shirt that he had been previously covered in his blood.
“Oh, sure. That won’t be a problem. Here let me put it in the wash for you. You can sit down with your brothers.” The blue vigilante said, walking over to Peter. He reached out his hand, not invading Peter’s personal space, just hovering outside of it. The hand wasn’t demanding, it was an offer that Peter could choose to accept. Peter appreciated the gesture whether it was purposeful or not.
“You don’t have to do that.” He said.
“Maybe not, but I don’t mind.” The blue vigilante responded. His hand was still reached out, and he wore a calm, open smile on his face.
After a few moments of deliberation, Peter hesitantly handed over his shirt to the vigilante, giving his thanks. The vigilante nodded before walking away with the shirt in hand. Peter watched him go before settling on the couch next to his brothers, sitting on Billy’s right.
Tommy continued to flip through the channels on the television, news channels, nature documentaries, sitcoms, everything flying by. If Tommy didn’t find them interesting in the first few seconds then he changed the channel. Peter smiled to himself for the first time since they had gotten to this universe, amused by his brother’s antics.
Eventually, Tommy changed the channel to find an action show that he deemed interesting enough to leave on. Peter was only partially paying attention to what was on the screen, instead he was listening to every sound that the vigilantes were making.
He could hear the clattering of utensils from the kitchen, the sound of a washing machine starting its wash cycle, footsteps, heartbeats that were calm and steady. Peter could hear the Blue one walk into the kitchen, talking softly to the other vigilante. If Peter didn’t have enhanced hearing he wouldn’t have been able to hear them.
Unfortunately for them, he did have enhanced hearing and he could hear everything that was being said.
It started off with small talk, the blue one complementing the red one’s cooking, then it moved to them talking about Peter and his brothers. Sharing concerns and theories about the events had led up to the three of them running into the vigilantes.
Peter heard human trafficking being brought up by Red. Peter had to admit that, given the limited information that they had been given, human trafficking wasn’t that crazy of a theory. He just hoped that the rest of their family would get here soon so that they didn’t have to deal with these vigilantes trying to uncover this great conspiracy they had conceived themselves of. Or worse, contact the authorities.
The vigilantes agreed to table the conversation until later and Peter could hear as their footsteps began heading towards where he and his brothers were sitting. As they entered the area, Peter could see that they were carrying bowls that appeared to be filled with spaghetti.
It smelted delicious.
They handed the boys each a bowl. Peter was slightly surprised by the action. Maybe these guys weren’t all that bad. Maybe. Unless they had put something in their food. The vigilantes hadn’t given any indication that they might do anything of the sort but they could never be too careful.
His senses weren’t alerting him to any danger and he couldn’t smell anything that would hint at the spaghetti had been tampered with. The Red vigilante must have noticed that he was scrutinising the dish because he spoke up.
“I asked your brothers if any of you had any allergies while you were washing up. There’s nothing in there that’ll make you sick, don’t worry.” He said.
“Oh.” Peter didn’t know how he felt about these men knowing about his allergies. On one hand he was glad that he wouldn’t have to dodge food that would make him sick but he also didn’t want the vigilantes to have information on him or his brothers.
“Thank you.” Peter said. There was nothing he could do about it now and he wasn’t going to be rude to someone who had given him and his brother’s free food while taking into account their allergies, not to mention giving them somewhere to stay for the night.
That’s if it was free.
What if this was just a ploy to gain their trust? Maybe it was something that they would hold over their heads and use it to demand more information about themselves and how they got injured in the first place?
Peter studied the vigilantes, once again looking for any hint of ill intent, but he found nothing. He looked at the side, at his brothers. They were looking at him too. Most likely waiting for a go ahead to eat the food they were given, a confirmation that it was safe.
He nodded slightly and watched as his brothers dug into the meal, Tommy bordering on scarfing it down and Billy taking a calmer but no less eager approach. He smiled slightly and took a bite of his own food.
It was just as delicious as it smelled.
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After they had finished their food, the vigilantes had insisted that they head to bed. They had given them the bedroom to sleep in and Peter was happy to find that the door locked. Even still, he made sure to sleep on the side of the bed closest to the door just in case something were to happen.
It had taken them all a while to get to sleep. Mostly they had lay there talking. Peter did his best to reassure his brothers that everything was going to be okay. That it was only a matter of time before their family came and found them.
But how could they feel secure when they had been attacked at their own home? How could they feel safe when they were in another universe by themselves?
Peter wished that he would wake up and find that it was all a bad dream. That they had never been attacked. That their family was all together in their house, safe and sound. That Billy and Tommy wouldn’t have to worry about being safe when the only thing that they should have been worrying about was starting middle school.
Peter listened to the now even breathing of the sleeping twins. He listened to the vigilantes whispering their theories to each other in the living room. He listened to the buzz of electricity running throughout the house.
He could feel himself drifting off to sleep. His eyelids grew heavier by the moment. Eventually he let them fall shut, letting his body rest.
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Peter dreamed of a life that felt like an eternity ago.
He was in Tony’s lab.
He was tinkering with his latest design of a web bomb.
Karen was playing music, occasionally commenting on what he was doing.
He could hear Tony behind him, working on his own projects.
The atmosphere of the lab was happy.
Calm.
Something that so hard to come by nowadays.
“Peter.”
Peter could have sworn that he heard his name being called.
The voice was feminine. Familiar.
“Peter.”
Was it Karen? No. Karen’s voice had a different accent and was more robotic.
It definitely wasn’t Tony.
“Peter.”
The was getting louder.
Or was it clearer? Both?
He wanted to go to the voice. He wanted to see her.
Who was her?
He closed his eyes, trying to remember.
“Peter.”
When Peter opened his eyes he was no longer in Tony’s lab. He was in their old house sitting on their couch.
But it was different.
Redder.
It took him a moment to realise that he wasn’t alone. Billy and Tommy were also there, sitting on his left. There was also someone in front of him. It was Wanda. It was his Mother.
She was looking at him with a smile on her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She seemed slightly sad. That made Peter upset. She shouldn’t be sad. None of them should be. They were all supposed to be happy.
“Are you with us now?” She asked and Peter nodded. He must have been the last one to come to because he could hear Tommy muttering “Finally.” beside him
Wanda stepped back, looking at her children with a mix of love, concern, relief and urgency.
“I don’t have much time.” She said quickly. “We can’t stay where we are for too long but I wanted- I needed to check up on you. Are you all okay? Where are you now? Have you found somewhere safe to stay until we come to find you?”
“We’re all okay.” Peter confirmed. “Tommy has a twisted ankle but that’ll heal up in no time. We’ve found somewhere safe to stay, at least for now.”
“When are you coming to find us?” Tommy asked, gripping the edge of the couch seat, worry clear in his voice.
Wanda reached out and cupped her son’s face in her hands. “Soon, sweetheart, soon. We just have to make sure that we aren’t followed.”
“How long will that take?” Billy asked, just as worried as his twin.
“Not long. Maybe a day, maybe three. Depends on how time passes between universes, but I’ll make sure to check in every chance I get. I’m not losing you. Any of you. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”
She looked like she wanted to say more but her form flickered. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I need to go. We’ll talk again as soon. Keep looking after each other, alright?” She pulled them all into a tight hug, placing a kiss to each of their foreheads, and then she was gone.
The red living room behind to fade away, the three boys all returning to their previous dreams, all waking not a moment later.