Work Text:
Peter 1 = Pete
Peter 2 = Peter
Peter 3 = Petey
Sitting near the window, a mug of cooling tea next to him on the desk, Dr. Otto Octavius tinkered at the machine he was working on, trying to keep his mind occupied as the three Spider-Mans went out to patrol. He sighed harshly, one mechanical arm placing the machine back on the desk next to him. He was anxious, a feeling that grew worse and worse as the night progressed.
Throwing caution to the wind, knowing the three young men would be upset with him having just recovered from a cold, the doctor opened the window and began his ascent towards the roof of their shared apartment. He began to roam, looking for any sign of any Spider-Man.
An hour passed of his wandering, when suddenly 5 heads turned toward the commotion in the alley below. Looking down, the doctor rushed down, blood running cold at his three boys, blood seeping through the middle child’s costume.
“What happened?!”
Two masked heads snapped towards his direction, worry in their eyes. Peter #1, or Pete as he was dubbed, sniffled slightly, panicking slightly. “Ambush, it happened so fast, Petey didn’t see the guy behind when suddenly he tipped over and the guy ran off. It all happened so fast, we couldn’t stop it.”
“Pete!” Otto said, snapping the youngest from his ramblings. “We can discuss this later, let us get Petey back to the apartment to assist his injuries.”
Slowly, Flo wrapped around Petey, pulling him close to the larger man’s body. Keeping ahold of the younger man, he used his biological arms to cradle him close as he began moving back towards their apartment. The other two followed, eventually making it back before the scientist, window open and first aid kit at the ready.
With the help of the other two, Otto peeled the bloody suit from Petey’s body, breathing in sharply at the stab wound he had. He meticulously cleaned at the wound, using an actuator to stitch the wound closed. He bandaged the wound carefully, placing him on the couch while Peter #2, who kept his name as Peter, stripped Petey’s bed of the bloody sheets. Pete grabbed more linens from their closet, redressing the bed, Otto sitting in the armchair across the sofa.
Noticing the two young men hovering in the entryway, he gestured for them to come closer, knowing they were worried for their adoptive sibling. Otto sighed, covering his face with his hands, tension leaving his body, slumping in the armchair as he watched the other to sit on the floor next to their now sleeping counterpart.
“He’ll be okay,” he said softly, trying to reassure the other two. “Petey will be back to normal in a few days and it’ll be like this never even happened.”
“But it did, Otto. And it’s my fault he got hurt in the first place” Peter explained. “Petey wanted to call you, and knew you could help us take down all the men that were causing problems. I convinced him that it wasn’t a problem, it was only 7 against us three, and you just got over your cold, I didn’t want to bother you. One was running away and Petey went after him, when the 8th guy popped up out of nowhere and suddenly we saw him run off, and Petey fell to his knees.”
Otto stood from his chair, using his actuator to pull the young man from the floor, and embracing him tightly with his human arms.
“Peter, my dear boy, it was NOT your fault. Do not blame yourself for what that man did to Petey. He is going to be okay.” Otto implored, feeling tears fall onto his shirt.
Pete got up, wedging his way in between Otto’s arms, hugging both men.
“Yeah Peter, listen to Doc. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t like you stabbed Petey.”
Peter laughed wetly at the youngest’s comment, Otto looking down and smiling softly at the two young men in his arms. He turned at the sound coming from the sofa, letting the two Peters go and kneeling down next to Petey as he shifted. He placed his hand on the young man’s chest, preventing him from getting up, waiting until he was awake before removing it.
“Petey, how are you feeling?” Otto asked, threading his fingers through the middle’s floppy hair.
“Like I just got stabbed Doc.” He replied, giggling at the exasperated look the older man gave him. “It doesn’t hurt as much as it did when he stabbed me. I’m healing and it wasn’t that deep.”
Otto frowned softly, knowing his middle child was trying to play it off but let it go. He got up, grabbing a few painkillers. With the boys’ metabolism, Octavius knew that Petey would burn through the medicine in an hour or two, but with the break from the pain would allow some respite to the boy. He grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, walking back to the living room. He carefully helped Petey sit up on the sofa, handing him the opened bottle of water and the pills. Once Petey drank his fill of water, Otto took the bottle, placing it on the coffee table.
“You rest for the next few days Petey,” he held his hand up at the look he was given. “A few days then it’s back to patrols like always.” Looking between the three, eyebrow raised, “now, what shall we do about dinner?”