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Sometimes he wishes things were different. He doesn't regret saving the universe by fixing his mistakes, but being so isolated really hurts. His old apartment wasn't anything special, but it always had some sort of background noise. The shower running, or May humming some cheesy song she heard at work, or just the news playing on the TV while the two of them ate cheap takeout. Everything is too quiet now, too empty.
He misses Ned, and MJ. He stops by her workplace every so often, hoping that he'll find the confidence to tell her about everything, but he never does. He's made steps, she and Ned have started up conversations with him, but it doesn't feel the same. They don't know his quirks and interests like they used to, he has to fight the urge to hold MJ's hand, or kiss her cheek, or wrap her in his arms and never let go. Strangers don't do those things, he has to keep telling himself, he can't ruin his chances.
It's not all bad, he supposes. He's got two "brothers" now, connected by shared powers rather than blood. They're older than him, much more experienced with Spider-Man business than he is. And the villains, he feels bad calling them that now, aren't half bad. Of course, that's mainly because of the cures they were given during the fight. It's nice knowing he has a few adults who know about him and don't want to murder him...anymore. But they can't be around all the time, they've got their own lives and dimensions to think about, and he gets that.
He must zone out, because the sound of something heavy landing on his roof startles him out of his thoughts. He sits up, the worn-down bed creaking below his weight as he grabs his suit and pulls it on. He grabs his mask just in case, gripping it tightly in his hand as he slips out of the window, using his webs to help him stick the landing. Peter-2 and Peter-3 are already waiting for him, standing next to each other. Seeing two versions of him has gotten strangely normal.
"Hey, Peter-1!" Peter-3 announces excitedly, while Peter-2 waves kindly. Peter returns their greeting, quiet and more reserved. His usual energy is lowered, he usually gets this way when he thinks about everything that's happened to him. But he's fine! It will all be okay...eventually. The two of them seem to notice he's less energetic than usual as he sits on the edge of the roof. They join him, one on each side. Their presence is comforting, even without a conversation.
"It's been a little bit, anything happen recently?" Peter-3 asks.
Peter shrugs. There's not much, really. He's been going to school, since he doesn't want to completely flunk and ruin his life even further. He's considered visiting Strange, but there's no way he's going to allow a total stranger in. Even if he does remember Peter, he's probably too busy fixing the rest of the mess the teen created, or working on some new type of magic. "Not much, I think MJ is starting to think of me as more than a weird stranger," he tries to add excitement to his tone, but it falls flat.
"Are you okay?" Peter-2 asks, and Peter swallows thickly. Is he okay? He's making progress, but there's still an aching emptiness that lingers, growing stronger every time he sees MJ or Ned at school, and every time he comes home to his small, run-down apartment and isn't greeted by May's cheerful voice and the smell of the latest vaguely-edible attempt at dinner. "It's alright if you're not, you know."
That sentence is his breaking point, it seems. Tears gather in his eyes and then slowly slide down his cheeks, splattering against the roof as they fall from his chin. It's not loud, ugly sobbing, but it feels just as embarrassing. Peter hates crying in front of other people, it makes him feel weak. He's Spider-Man, he can't help but feel stupid crying about things like this. A hand moves hesitantly to his shoulder and, when he doesn't react negatively, it starts rubbing circles on his back.
Another hand runs through his hair, thinner but still calloused. Peter hasn't felt comfort like this in a while. The others tend to give him only small bits of scattered affection, but the two spider men are much more open about it. He allows them to comfort him with small gestures until his tears slow down, leaving his face sticky and gross. His breath is shaky as he opens his mouth. "It's all my fault," he whispers, his voice cracking and snapping awkwardly in several places.
"It's not," Peter-3 counters immediately. "You're just a kid. You didn't deserve any of this," his voice has a bittersweet tint to it as he speaks. Peter forgets that sometimes. He feels way older than he is. Being a vigilante, living on his own...he forgets how young he is. But sitting between two older versions of him, it makes it extremely obvious. He doesn't know how that makes him feel.
"...I'm okay, I'm okay...am I okay?" He breathes out the first two statements, then raises his voice for the question. He thinks it might make him feel better if he admits he isn't quite okay. But if he's not okay, will he be able to save people? Will he be able to reconnect with his friends? His heart beats rapidly in his chest as he thinks about it.
"You're not," Peter-2 replies, "not right now. But you will be eventually. It will just take a lot of time and effort." Peter nods and wipes his face with the sleeve of his costume, taking time to consider the words. Eventually, after a few more minutes of comfort, the other Peter's have to leave. The multiverse is a strange, confusing thing that none of them can fully understand.
As Peter sits on the roof of his apartment, he reminds himself he still has people in his corner.