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Peter’s blue eyes flickered between his alternate selves.
They were working diligently and patiently, inspecting every detail with confidence but measured precision.
Although they were him, and all of them approached the work in the same way, he was still amazed by how they acted differently toward it. Maybe it’s because they were younger than him, more exuberant with their actions, had more flair and energy.
Seeing how they interacted with each other made him more curious. They were each other, but shaped wildly by their own experiences.
The one who lost his MJ – Gwen, surprisingly - he was more like Peter himself: older, cautious, but still youthful and eager. It wasn’t much like a mirror looking back at him, but more so a version of himself that he couldn’t fathom being. The Peter he looked at had lost his love, while he wouldn’t know what to do without his. This Peter was still living, still somehow holding it together, or so it seemed.
If Peter lost Mary-Jane, the girl he loved since his childhood, the girl of his dreams who struck such a fragile chord within him - if she was gone, he would break. He had spent so long and hard trying to protect her and the idea that she could slip through his fingers (already having come close to that happening) sent a cold pang through his heart. He was still protecting her, even after all this time.
And the other Peter; the youngest of them all… it was more like looking at himself. This Peter had a sliver of naiveté and innocence still left, which was what Peter once was – at least, until that naïveté was crushed the night that Ben died.
Right now, that’s what this Peter looked like; hope tethered to him by a thin line, yet stricken with remorse and a simmering anger underneath that threatened to erupt if not checked.
He moved towards him, adjusting the Petri dish and microscope to reposition his specimen.
Younger Peter was still carefully dripping a liquid into one of the test tubes, only noticing his presence at the slightest.
“It’s looking good there, chief,” older Peter said to him, a small twinkle in his eye.
Peter glanced at him, a smile fluttering on his lips. He almost laughed. “… Chief? What’s with that?”
“Well, you’re like the leader of this operation, aint’cha?” Peter grinned, waving the Petri dish in his hand. “’Gotta call you something to differentiate between us.”
“I second that!” The other Peter spoke up, holding a pen with his raised hand.
The youngest Peter stopped his work and stared at the table, eyes moving as the gears turned in his brain. “Well, we can make it easy. I’m Peter One, you-“, he pointed at the oldest Peter next to him. “You’re Peter Two, and he’s Three,” he said, using his thumb to gesture at the one behind them.
“Why am I three?” the other Peter asked with a cheeky expression, arms raised above the table. “I got here first.”
“Fair point,” the oldest Peter said, gesturing toward the youngest. “But he’s the chief.”
The middle Peter cracked a grin and darted towards his work again, twiddling his pen, “If you say so, Peter Two.”
Peter Two looked back at Peter One, who was no longer looking at the test tubes. He was staring at a blank spot, unblinking. His line of sight went to MJ, who was talking in a hushed tone with Ned.
“Hey, you good?” Peter Two said.
One nodded, snapping out of his daydream. “Huh, yeah, yeah I’m good…”
Peter Two looked at him for a while longer, and then went back to his microscope, picking out another dish. He asked Peter One for a sample of the anti-Goblin serum, and he handed it to him.
“Got the balancing right and everything… Good job,” Two said, squinting into the microscope.
Peter One nodded and smiled, reaching out to finalise the component on a monitor.
“Hey,” Two said, grabbing the other’s attention.
Peter One looked at him with an expectant face, but Two couldn’t respond.
He had something to say on the tip of his tongue, but it wouldn’t come out. He ruminated over all of the things that he could say; that his hard work won’t be for nothing, that he’s so strong despite of it all, how he should feel accomplished with the good that he’s done and not focus on the bad, and how Uncle Ben and Aunt May would be so proud.
But he couldn’t speak.
They didn’t have much time, but only if they did. He knew this wasn’t the same Peter as himself, but if you had the chance to pass wisdom on, or some sort of message to your (essentially) younger self, why wouldn’t you?
Peter Two cleared his throat, looking at the new Petri dish instead of One’s eyes. “After… we’re able to cure all these guys, and send them back… you know what your plan is from here on out? Living situation, and all that?”
One stopped, and drew out a long breath. “I was thinking that… I could move in with MJ and Ned, if we got into MIT, or not…” he patted his hand on the desk and didn’t meet his eyes. “... but Happy could let me stay at his place for a bit. That’s what I’m betting on right now.”
“Betting on?” Peter Two asked, prompting him to think about it. “It’s good to have a solid backup plan, y’know.”
Peter One sat on it a bit more, idly flicking a pen.
“Having your own place won’t be so bad,” spoke up Peter Three, not facing them and scrawling all the notes he could remember about the reptilian antidote.
One lent back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I mean- I mean yeah, that’d be great. Except… I wouldn’t know where to start.”
Peter Two shrugged, getting back to his work on the microscope. “You’ll be able to. Just save up enough money, look around Manhattan and see if they got anything.”
Peter One let out a flabbergasted noise. “It’s not that easy-.”
“Even if it isn’t, you still gotta look out for yourself. You can ask around for help, but in the end it’s up to you,” Two said, looking at him directly and pointing a pen at him.
One fell silent, but Peter Two could feel he was itching to say something else.
“About, saving up money-”
There it is.
“I… don’t… have a way to get some.”
Both Peter’s stopped their work to stare at him.
“You don’t have a job?” Peter Three asked.
Peter One flung out his arms. “I just finished high school! Between everything, I- and getting into MIT, I haven’t had time…”
Peter Two shook his head and squinted into the microscope again. “You’ll find something. I got a bit of money from odd jobs, but…”
Surely, he would be able to work it out for himself. But he wanted to bite the bullet though, give him a head start.
“I’ve gotten most of my stable income from the Bugle, been with them for years-“
“You work for them too?”
Peter Two whipped his head towards Three. He raised his eyebrows higher at him as he spoke, “Uh, yeah, I’ve worked as a full-time photographer for them for more than a decade now,” he said in defeat, “Can’t believe it really.”
“Full-time? I’ve been doing freelance!” Three exclaimed.
Peter Two chuckled. “Well, I started that way, and was finally promoted at one point.”
One pointed his finger at both of them. “So- wait, both of you… you work for that Jameson guy?”
They paused, looked at each other, and then turned back at him in apology.
One raked his hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. “Holy shit…”
Peter Two shrugged and raised his hands. “Yeah, it’s… it’s tough. JJ’s still on my back to this day, but… he’s lightened up a little.”
Three mouthed a ‘what?’ at him.
Peter Two smiled and pinched his fingers, “Just a little.”
Three scoffed. “You got that right, he’s more of an ass stuck in the 60’s for me...” he stopped, and then leant forward and half-whispered to him, “... Do you also take pictures of Spider-Man for them?”
Peter Two nodded, while it was Peter One’s turn to mouth a ‘what?’ to himself.
“It’s a good idea, right?!” Three said. “It’s basically… the only job that allows us to be Spider-Man and get paid.
Peter One balked at that, unable to face them.
Peter Two noticed his silence, swivelled around to look at him, “So if you’re desperate… and you might end up being - I’d recommend them.”
One’s jaw clenched as he kept his focus trained on the floor. “Even if he’s just going to slander me, and I’d be helping him?”
Two sighed. “It’s guaranteed money, but I never said it was going to be easy work.”
Peter Three shook his head, burying his nose into his papers again. “Yeah, when is it ever?”
Two stilled his gaze at One, who was hesitant to reciprocate. “Point is that after this, you gotta get your life on track.”
One nodded at this, deep in thought.
Peter Two turned to his microscope again and readjusted it. “And don’t hold on to that anger, it’ll only make it more difficult. Believe me, I know.”
“How do you do it?”
Peter Two stopped. He turned to One, who seemed like he was holding back his words.
He gestured to the both of them with his hand. “Both of you. How do I… I don’t know,” he said dismissively, waving his hand. He swivelled back to the test tubes, pulling each of them out carefully and letting the monitor analyse them for a final time.
“Because you’re Peter Parker.”
Said Two, who was smiling at him.
“You’ll find a way.”
Peter One stared back in recognition, while Three glanced between them. He felt a burning sensation emerge from behind his eyes, and tried to blink it away rapidly. His back faced them as he turned back to the desk, forcing down the tightness in his throat.
Peter One smiled, nodding his head gently. “Yeah… I mean, if you guys can, I can, right?”
Peter Three nodded as well, trying his best to smile despite the wave of emotion that came over him.
Two patted One’s back. “Good talk, chief.”
Peter One chuckled, shaking his head. “Better nickname than ‘kid.’”
Peter Two walked over to Three, who was erratically flipping his papers over. He began sorting them into piles, no doubt separating them by phases of how to make the antidote.
“How’s that coming along?” Two asked, stepping to the other side of the table to inspect the Electro-destabiliser Peter One invented.
Peter Three continued sorting the papers, his voice cracking at first. “Eh-ahem, well… it’s something at least. Not everything I remember about the antidote that we-… that was cooked up for Lizard, but I’ll be able to fill in the gaps as I go along.”
Peter Two nearly gawked at the amount of papers. “It’s still impressive.”
“Yeah well, memory’s not too faulty nowadays, got that to be thankful for,” Three said, focusing entirely on his work.
Two checked the power bank in the Electro-destabiliser to see it had the potential of leaking, and everything seemed good.
He then heard voices from Peter One’s table, and picked up that he was speaking to Ned and MJ. They were whispering about the anti-Goblin serum, and anticipation in Peter’s gut rose.
It would be complete any minute now, and the thought that he could reverse what happened to Norman, and set things right in his world… it made his head spin.
Peter Three looked over at them, silent as he watched the three interact.
“I can’t believe he just finished high school…” he said, shaking his head and putting the last of the papers into the final phase section.
“Right?” Peter Two sighed, pausing his inspection to peek over his shoulder. “And he’s already lost May…”
Peter Three halted his movement, and didn’t speak.
“I… came pretty close to losing her once, to the Goblin too…” said Two, eyes fixed on the table. “But she’s still kicking. Unsurprising, really, she’s a tough woman.”
Peter Three smiled at him, “Yeah, same here.”
Peter Two sighed, unable to look up. “But losing her in that way? Can’t even imagine…” he moved his hands from the table, blankly staring at the destabiliser. “I guess… maybe I haven’t even seen the worst of things.”
Peter Three’s expression turned solemn. He held his gaze on Peter Two, mulling over his words.
If this Peter hadn’t seen the worst of it… then what about him? What he’s been through with Gwen, his parents, and even Harry- was his grief anything compared to theirs?
Peter Three tried to push those thoughts to the back of his mind, and faced the man standing in front of him. “I don’t know, you can’t say that.”
Two didn’t say anything, but averted his gaze.
“Like, you lost your best friend, right? With you and MJ too… it hasn’t been easy.”
His words brought back memories to Peter. He remembered Harry’s lifeless body in his arms, and the cruelty and ignorance he MJ to. But it didn’t stop there; there was Norman, Otto, Eddie, and other people that he couldn’t save along the way.
“Ah, but that’s not the point,” Peter Three interjected, waving his hands. “You shouldn’t compare grief, it’s different for everyone.”
Two held a bitter smile. “Ironic that.”
Three looked off to the side and let out a breath. “Yeah, yeah I see the irony in that.” He leant forward on his desk, moving his arm slightly to refer to Peter One. “… I don’t know what I’d do at that age, after that, in all honesty… I’d be like he was.”
Peter Two wordlessly agreed. But he turned to Three, and said, “I don’t know where I’d be right now if I lost MJ. You’re… even after Gwen, look at you.”
Peter Three nodded and looked away, not entirely receptive to that statement. “Yeah, yeah…”
Two paused, retracting his attitude. “I’m sorry; I have no idea what it’s like.” When he got no further response, he pushed on, “But you’re still here. You walked in with your suit on and everything. I gotta give credit where credit’s due- I don’t know how I’d do it like you have.”
Peter Three smiled as best as he could. He stood up and pointed a ruler at him. “Like I said, if I can do it, so can you.”
Two chuckled, turning away from him and looking at the destabiliser once more. “Right back at’cha,” he called over his shoulder.
“Okay guys, I think this one’s done!”
That grabbed their attention.
They scooted over to One’s desk, gazing up at the monitor in awe.
Peter Three wrapped his arm around One’s shoulder and patted him. “Nice work man.”
Meanwhile, Peter Two stared at the details of the serum on the screen.
The chance to save his best friend’s dad, and therefore his best friend, was right in front of him. To redo history and make a right was possible because of… miraculously, Peter Parker.
It was a correction of things.
Although it was either him or Norman’s life, this way, they could both get a shot at living.
He grinned widely. “We’re giving them another chance, we’re almost there.”
Peter Three let go of One. “Yeah, Max… to think I can make peace with him, it’s…”
Two grinned at him broadly still, and then saw One’s expression right beside him.
It was both a glower and a distant stare; with a stiff face and hardened dark eyes. Peter Two saw how his hand gripped onto the table’s edge, the plastic trying to support his turmoil and threatening to snap.
“Hey-,” Peter Two called out to him.
The molten look that flooded his face dissipated as he turned to the oldest Peter.
“We’re going to do this, and we’re gonna do it right,” Peter Two reassured.
The youngest Peter nodded hesitantly, cooling himself down with a long exhale.
“Yeah- yeah, you’re right.”
Peter Three smiled and brought the two of them in with his arms.
“One down, three more to go.”