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“It didn’t work?” The man who claims that sorcery exists sighs in confused frustration as he glances down at his hands with furrowed eyebrows.
Peter isn’t sure what didn’t work exactly but casting a quick look at the sky, he doesn’t understand the floating man’s frustration. The sky isn’t purple anymore and New York doesn’t look distorted. Though, seeing as there are still three Peter Parkers and all kinds of villains around, he could see how the spell didn’t work.
Peter looks at the youngest Peter out of the three of them who looks dumbfounded but slightly relieved that the spell hadn’t worked. There’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes and his lips are threatening to break into a smile.
Soft thuds to his left forces Peter to tear his eyes off of the high schoolers and turn his head to the source of sound. A ghost sensation of tenseness prickles at his skin but Peter quickly dismisses the feeling; reminding himself that the man before him isn’t who he once was. Not anymore.
“Otto.” Peter greets with a light call of the older man’s name and a gentle smile on his lips. The corner of his eyes wrinkle up, portraying just how much Peter has aged.
“I never really had the chance to apologize.” Doctor Octavius says, his eyebrows downturned and his lips frowning. “I just thought….” He sighs, “I was making the world a better place.”
It took Peter several years to try and understand Otto, his mentor and role model. He was guilty at first, for not being able to save him. Then he was angry at the fact that Otto became evil. It took him a long time to feel sympathetic for the man.
Peter was once in his shoes. His own uncle had died in his arms and all Peter thought of was revenge. That strong emotion ran in his blood streams which fueled his sense of false judgment to punish the man who killed his uncle. Peter would’ve ended up like Doctor Octavius had he not been consumed by guilt.
“It’s okay.” Peter offers gently, the smile still present in his lips and Otto shyly returns it albeit smaller.
There’s a moment of silence between them -save for Dr. Strange effortlessly trying to recast the spell to send everyone back to their own universe and for high school Peter’s friends to forget ever meeting him and learning about his secret identity.
“So, uh…How’s…” Doctor Octavius licks his suddenly dry lips nervously, his eyes briefly meeting Peter’s before quickly looking away. There’s a lump in his throat that’s preventing him from asking the question he’d been desperate to ask the second he had met Peter an hour before.
Peter knows what the doctor was trying to ask yet he doesn’t offer him any help. This is something that Otto needs to do on his own so he patiently waits, his eyes never missing the way Otto heaves a shaky breath.
“How’s Y/N?” Otto sounds scared. Scared that Peter wouldn’t answer him about his daughter. Though, there’s a bit of hopefulness that Peter is just as kind as he was in his youth as he finally meets his eyes.
Peter’s smile brightens and his expression is filled with love; it's almost comical.
“She’s good.” Peter replies. “We got married. It’s our fourteenth anniversary this year.”
If Otto feels overwhelmed to the point where his legs almost give out, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his breath hitches and his body quivers.
He is experiencing a storm of emotions. Although he is overjoyed that his daughter married someone who is not only responsible but also extremely kind. He is, however, upset that he couldn’t be alive to witness his own daughter’s wedding.
Otto’s train of thoughts is interrupted at Peter’s shuffling.
The eldest Spider-Man stands next to him and pulls out something from his suit that Otto honestly doesn’t want to know how it’s possible.
In Peter’s hand is a leather photo wallet that has seen better days. Otto knows that the wallet is cherished from the discoloration on the bottom corners.
“Would you like to see?” Peter offers the wallet, similar to a child who is offering to show his friend his well prized collection of Pokémon cards.
Otto is hesitant.
Is he even worthy of such a thing?
But the way Peter’s eyes softly encourages him to take a look at the photos, Otto accepts the offer and gently takes the wallet into his large hand.
The first picture is of Peter and his daughter Y/N on their wedding day.
They’re in a venue hall with pink and white flowers decorating the walls along with some yellow fairy lights. The newlyweds were embraced in a dance with Y/N’s smile so bright it practically radiates through the still shot. Peter stares at her with so much love that Otto can actually feel it.
Otto flips to the next page to a picture of Y/N with a heavily round stomach, a hand resting on top. She’s smiling down at the baby in her stomach and that thick lump makes its way into his throat again. He quickly flips to the next page.
There’s Y/N and Peter in a hospital room. A sweaty Y/N is in the hospital bed with dried tears on her cheeks and the smallest infant Otto has ever seen in her hands. Peter is leaning in and kissing Y/N’s head passionately.
Otto has great difficulty swallowing to moisten his dry throat.
The picture on the next page is of a boy, ten years of age, with honey brown colored hair standing next to a homemade volcano with a proud grin on his face. There’s a golden sticker on the poster behind him that reads 1st place and Otto can’t help the smile that slowly stretches across his aged features.
“That was two years ago during his first science fair.” Peter explains as he flips to the next page.
In this picture, the boy is about two years older and his hair has grown out to reach just a few shy inches below his years. There are books and bread scattered around him as he stares into the camera with the same smile from the previous picture.
“This was just last month.” Peter states. “He’s researching on how to create cutlery and plates that are edible to help reduce waste.. He’s thinking of making them out of bread.”
A sense of pride swells within Otto. The fact that his grandson turned out to be a lover of the sciences like him and Peter yet a humanitarian like his own father fills him up with warmth.
“What's-” Otto’s tongue darts across his dried lips and he swallows thickly, “What’s his name?”
Peter looks up from the photo to stare at him with such intensity that Otto wishes the ground would open up and swallow him. He suddenly feels exposed, vulnerable.
“Otto.”
And the world stops around him before it disappears.
He is no longer in this alternate New York. No longer on earth. Just in this space that only him and Peter exist in as the name echoes in his ears.
“Otto?”
Otto ignores how breathy his voice sounds and doesn’t notice the tears rapidly wetting his eyes. His lips quiver as he tries to smile but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up that they had named the boy after himself. Especially not after the horrible crimes he had committed under the chains of his own invention.
Peter nods affirmatively.
“Y/N and I both agreed that Otto is the perfect name for him, named after the greatest man I’ve ever met.” Peter’s lips curl upwards.
Otto couldn’t react in time to stop a stray tear sliding down his cheek. So he throws his arms around Peter in a hug to hide his tears.
And Peter accepts the hug, returns it even, as it has been so long since he had last fully embraced the man. The man who he had once considered, probably still does, as his father figure.
Neither of them hear Doctor Strange's cry of success as his hands glow a golden color nor the way their body turns into tiny little particles that are rapidly disappearing.
If the universe is kind, and if Doctor Strange has a heart, Otto wishes that he could return to his own timeline where he is alive and with his family.