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Your friendship with Peter began when you were children. Peter was the nerdy kid who’d stay inside all of recess reading or tinkering with some toy. And you were the nice, friendly kid. Praised by your teachers and usually the go-to kid to make friends with kids like Peter.
You did it, of course. You’d sit with Peter as he went on about what comics he liked or TV shows. Who his favorite superhero was—real or fake. And you nodded along and tried to understand what he was talking about.
As time went on, your bond grew. You stayed friends for years. You were there for him every step of the way.
When he got bit by that spider, you were the first to know. You poked fun at him for his first costume, because that’s what friends did. You worried about him day in and day out when he went patrolling. And you bet your ass you gave him so much shit for disappearing to Germany when he fought half the Avengers.
Then Thanos happened. Peter left with nothing more than an “I have to help,” before jumping out of the bus. And that was the last time you had seen him. That had been the last time you’d seen any of your friends.
You were one of the select few that wasn’t blipped. Lucky in some eyes, unlucky in others. You had mixed feelings about it, honestly. You didn’t disappear, but…Peter did. Your best friend since kindergarten was gone. Hell, almost everyone you knew was gone. Peter, Ned, MJ. All gone.
But…you moved on. You had no choice but to move on with your life and adapt to the new situation, no matter how hard it was.
At your graduation, you cried. Half of your senior class was missing. Half of the world population was dead. And the people who were left had no choice but to continue on with life. The wheel of life kept turning. You adapted or you got left behind.
You wouldn’t be left behind. You’d live. For Peter. For Ned, for MJ.
You got into college and got a job to support yourself. Ironically, wages were better than ever now that half the population was gone. And everywhere was hiring, so finding and securing a job wasn’t difficult.
And you lived. You bought an actual home for decently cheap after a years hard work. You couldn’t stand to live on campus. Not when the blip was the only thing people talked about.
Four years later, the blip…was a thing of the past. People of course talked about it still, but not as much. Life was drastically improving. Poverty went down. Homelessness was all but over with. You hated to even think it, but the blip did bring good things for those left.
You got your college diploma and couldn’t stop thinking about how proud Peter would’ve been. You didn’t stop smiling that day, looking back on old photographs of the two of you wishing he was here, but understanding he was gone.
But then they came back.
By some…miracle or curse, every single person who disappeared reappeared. Horrifically, they appeared right where they had vanished from. Death was rampant that day.
You heard horror stories of how people had appeared back in building that had been taken down and perished. Of people who appeared on roads or highways. People on boats. It was a nightmare. You couldn’t stomach looking at the news that day.
The family—or should you say children—that had lived in your house before appeared in the living room and freaked out. You had the unfortunate pleasure of informing them five years had passed. That you were living there. Whispers of reassurances and heart wrenching confessions of, “I’m sorry, I don’t know where your parents are.”
That year had been the worst year of your entire life. The death rate skyrocketed along with homelessness. Wages dropped. People were going hungry again because there just wasn’t enough food to go around.
But perhaps the worst thing that happened was Peter returning. As terrible as that sounded. Peter came back as a 16 year old boy while you were now 21. You had lived your life while his was on pause.
It didn’t feel fair. To either of you.
But humanity did what it did best. It adapted. You adapted to having Peter back. Even though you didn’t see him often. That was your fault, though. You’d grown apart from him in those five years. For him, nothing had changed.
On a good day, you could barely stomach looking at him. On a bad day, you wished everyone had stayed blipped. That Peter had stayed dead like you thought he’d been. Your grief had been invalidated. Those sleepless nights where you wished for the comforting arms of your closest friends felt pointless. And Peter couldn’t even begin to grasp what you were feeling.
So naturally, you grew apart. But then you realized you still missed him. So you grew close again. And all was calm. Things finally started to look like they were heading upwards once again.
But things could never really stay calm. Not in New York.
The multiverse opened, because ofcourse it did, and villains were coming in looking for Spider-Man. And then two other Spider-Men had come into this universe to defeat said villains.
All of these events led to this singular moment. You were falling. But you felt like you were floating, traveling in slow motion through the air, your arms stretched out, seeking to grab something—anything—to save yourself.
Your mouth was open mid scream, barely audible over the roaring wind in your ears and the hammering of your heartbeat, blood rushing in your ears. You knew then that everyone was right. Your life did flash before your eyes when you were about to die.
With the realization that this was it. You were about to die after being thrown from the statue of liberty, everything came rushing back. You were falling fast through the air, the air punched out of your lungs. You turned your head.
You weren’t sure what possessed you to do so, but you did. And you saw Peter jump off the building. He was going for MJ.
In some sick sense, you thought it was karma. You ignored him for the better part of a year. Treated him coldly. And in your moment of need, he didn’t even notice you. He went after his girlfriend.
You squeezed your eyes shut with the realization that this was it. No one was coming to save you.
Finally. It was over. Your time in this nightmare of a universe was over.
But then, there were arms around you. Your falling slowed until you came to a standstill. You took short, fast breaths as you opened your eyes, staring at Peter…2? No—no, this was Peter 3 if you weren’t mistaken. He had amazing hair and was…gorgeous, to put it simply.
“Are you okay?” He asked. His eyes were glassy and the words came out thick. You distantly recalled him mentioning he lost someone. His MJ. You didn’t know the details but you just knew it happened in a similar scene to your current situation.
You slowly nodded. “Are you?” You returned, staring up into his eyes. You could’ve sworn you saw a tear roll down his cheek.
You didn’t mention it.
Peter 3’s smile was watery as he delicately set you back on your feet. “Yeah,” he said, before clearing his throat. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, placing his hands on your shoulders and looking you over.
“Yeah I’m…” Your voice trailed off as you caught sight of Peter—your Peter—behind him. Holding MJ in his arms. You let out a breath of relief. You were at least glad she was okay. Peter had saved her.
You expected him to look at you. To at least spare you a glance and make sure you weren’t dead on the pavement. But no. He didn’t even notice you. He didn’t see you fall.
Somehow, that was worse than him intentionally going for MJ over you.
Peter 3 waved his hand in front of your face. “You don’t seem alright,” he stated with a frown. “You could be in shock, you should sit—”
“Yeah, I’m just…he doesn’t care,” you murmured. You didn’t want to sound…selfish or anything. You were fine but it was the principal of the matter. Your Peter had been too focused on MJ to even realize you had also fallen. Jesus, you could have died.
“Hey, that’s not true,” Peter 3 said. “I’m sure he cares. It’s just….adrenaline. He saw her fall first,” he tried to reassure and soothe. “Look—he’s seen you,” he pointed out.
You looked up to see Peter looking between you and Peter 3. He weakly smiled, holding a thumbs up. You weren’t convinced.
“…okay, I didn’t believe that either,” Peter 3 conceded. “But I’m sure he cares. Of course he does. You guys are best friend’s, right?” He squeezed your shoulder. “He cares.”
You were beginning to doubt that.
“He disappeared for five years. Life went on for me, we’re hardly even friends anymore,” you muttered. “It’s fine,” you dismissed.
—
Things only went downhill from there.
Your Peter tried to kill the Green Goblin. Peter 2 stopped him. Peter 3 was stabbed. The multiverse was broken and everyone who knew Peter Parker is Spider-Man was coming into this universe. You could see Strange casting a spell, but you were a little preoccupied.
You hurried over to Peter 3, who was still on the ground. You kneeled down at his side, “you okay, Spider?” You asked, trying for teasing, but the concern outweighed it.
Peter 3 grimaced as he nodded. “First time I’ve been stabbed, woohoo,” he half-heartedly cheered, attempting to push himself up into a sitting position. “And it’s Spider-Man.”
“Here, let me help you,” you said, putting his arm around your shoulder and helping him to his feet, bearing a lot of his weight. “How’ve you not been stabbed yet? My Peter’s been stabbed.”
“Your Peter?” He asked. “Thought you weren’t friends?”
“Peter 1,” you clarified. “He’s not mine, of course, but he’s—he’s from my universe. Besides, he’s still so young.”
“I got it,” Peter 3 nodded, inhaling sharply and holding his side. “So there’s a chance for a guy like me?” He asked wryly.
“A guy like you?” You asked, raising a brow.
“Y’know,” he grinned, gesturing to himself with his free hand. “Guy like me.” He shrugged, that goofy grin still on his face. You had to admit, it was cute. He was cute.
“We’re from different universes,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist, mindful of his injury. “So, ‘fraid not.”
Peter 3’s grin didn’t falter. “Can I at least get a kiss goodbye?” He asked. “I think the wizard is ready to send us home,” he said, pointing up to where Doctor Strange was doing his thing. “I can promise I’m not as young as Peter 1.”
You looked at him, debating your choices. What’s the worst that could happen? This was the only chance you would get since he was going back to his universe. It’s not like your life could get any worse than it had been.
“Only because you’re injured,” you lied, like you didn’t want to kiss him just for the hell of it. You turned to face him better, lifting your hand. Your fingertips traced up his cheeks before burying in the hair behind his ears. Running your fingers through it, just to sate the urge you had since you saw it. Then you leaned in and captured his lips in a kiss.
The smile fell off his lips as he kissed you back. His lips were soft beneath your own, and he tasted like blood. It wasn't as off putting as you thought it'd be. Your lips molded together as if they were meant for each other. The tension in your body relaxed and you stepped closer, tightening your fingers through his hair to pull him closer to you.
Peter obliged and dropped his hand from your shoulder to hold your hip, squeezing tightly for a brief moment. He parted his lips and swiped his tongue across your lips, teasing, before he pulled away.
A goofy smile graced his lips and he pressed his forehead to yours, peering at you through half-lidded eyes. “I think I’m all healed now,” he said with a dopey laugh. He pulled away completely and turned to Peter 2, who was staring up at the sky that was fixing itself.
“…I think this is goodbye,” Peter 3 said. The hand on your hip rose, and he flashed a peace sign, which Peter 2 returned just before he faded away.
“Goodbye,” you murmured, kissing his cheek as he too began to fade.
But instead of feeling his weight disappear like you expected, everything faded to black.
—
You woke up with a sharp inhale, groaning at the splitting sensation in your head. You squinted at the white ceiling as you struggled to recall what had happened. You drew a big blank and sat up slowly. The room was spinning and nausea was rolling over you in waves.
You looked around the…you squinted through the haze clouding your mind and realized you were in a bedroom. It was messy, and you didn’t recognize it at all. Not the pictures, map, or sticky notes pinned to the corkboard. Or the Albert Einstein photo on one of the doors.
You turned quickly when you heard the window scrape open, staring in confusion as Spider-Man climbed in. But he froze when he saw you, ripping the mask off, eyes wide. “What are you doing here!?” He exclaimed, voice rising in both pitch and volume.
“What are you!” You exclaimed in equal surprise. “Where am I!? What’s going on?” You demanded.
Peter 3 stared at you with his mouth hanging open. He shut the window and stumbled over his things until he stood in front of where you sat on his bed. “This is…my universe,” Peter said, finger pressed to his chest for emphasis. “You’re in my bedroom. I—the spell returned me to this point in time. Right before Max died. But he didn’t. Max is fine. Gwen is fine, she’s on a plane to Oxford right now, and Harry—Harry got arrested, but he’s fine.”
You stared at him in disbelief, “I’m…” Your sentence hung in the air, unfinished as you stared at him harder. He looked younger. Which made sense, you supposed. He’d been returned to the past, right before Electro died. And somehow, he brought you with him.
You really hated the multiverse right about now.
“I don’t understand,“ you said slowly, "I’m not from this universe, why would I—this makes absolutely no sense!” You laughed, gripping your hair as you leaned forward, head between your knees. “This is unbelievable.”
“Hey—don’t worry. Uh, we may not have wizards but I sure we can find some way to—” Peter stammered over his words and the bed dipped in front of you. "We'll send you back, we-we'll figure it out, okay?"
Without thinking about it, you lifted your head to stare at him ramble on and on. You lifted your hands to cup his cheeks and pressed your lips to his, because back in your universe, kissing him made you feel at home. The feeling was amplified, sitting in his bedroom in his universe.
If it was his universe, then why did it feel like you'd come home at last? Like you were meant to be here?
Peter pulled away from the kiss, his hands resting on your shoulders, squeezing them like he did your hip. “Is this my fault?” He fearfully whispered, eyes wide and lip quivering. “Because we were touching, and the magic just brought you along with me—this is all my fault,“ he miserably moaned and released you so he could drop his head into his hands.
You frowned at him. “No,” you said at once, “it’s not your fault, if anything it’s my fault. I’m the one that kissed you.” You sighed and scrubbed a hand over your face, “it’s not your fault.”
Peter didn’t look reassured. But, he got up off the bed and began walking to his closet as he spoke. “You don’t seem as freaked out as I imagined. We don’t have wizards in this universe…I don’t know if we’ll be able to send you home. Not immediately anyway. I’m so sorry,” he said with feeling, yanking the top part of suit off and replacing it with a shirt.
“Peter,” you said, wishing he was closer so you could hold his hands and try and comfort him. “It’s okay,” you reassured. The irony. You were in a universe that wasn’t your own and you were comforting him.
But then again, you weren’t freaking out. Not too much anyways, but Peter seemed to think this entire ordeal was his fault, even though it wasn’t. At least, you didn’t think it was.
Peter shook his head, stripping out of the rest of his suit. “How is this okay!?” He exclaimed, hopping on one foot as he fought to get his sweatpants on. “I took you from your home! Your universe! Probably permanently!” He won the battle with his sweatpants and approached the bed. He looked like he was having a proper existential crisis.
“My universe isn’t worth living in anyway, Peter,” you said, trying to get him out of that guilty mindset. “Did Peter 1 tell you about our universe? About the sheer horror that living is?” You asked, fighting to keep your temper in check. You weren’t angry at him, you were angry about your universe sucking.
Peter’s shocked stare was answer enough, he hadn't been informed of anything. “How can you say that?” He asked eventually, panic giving way to confusion. “Your family and friends are there. How can you say it’s not worth living in?”
His crushed expression made you sigh. “I’m five years older than all my friends. My family was killed during the blip. Trust me, it…it could be good to start new. With you.”
“What are you talking about?” Peter asked as he finally sat down on his bed beside you. “Blip?”
And so you told Peter about the horrors of your universe. You tried to simplify it so he would understand it, before realizing he was insanely smart and you didn’t have to dumb it down for him.
You had to start at the beginning so he understood it all. He wanted to know everything. Apparently, there were no Avengers in this universe. Perhaps…perhaps that was for the best. Life was simpler. But you told him about Tony Stark. Big man in a suit of armour. Hero and savior of Earth thanks to his sacrifice. Then about Steve Rogers, the soldier lost in time. And down the line of the Avengers.
Then about the Battle of New York and Loki. Then Sokovia and Ultron.
He loved the idea of artificial intelligence and was simply in awe when you told him about Vision. He was less in awe about Ultron being evil and trying to kill all of humanity.
You told him about the Avengers’ big fight that Peter 1 fought in Germany. He really loved that. The fight and the powers they all had, not of the actual argument that he didn't really understand.
And then…the mood grew somber.
“Aliens, to put it simply, arrived in 2018,” you said. “Tore up New York. Again. They fought the Avengers and the Wakandans in Wakanda. In space too. That’s where Peter 1 was fighting. He stowed away on the spaceship and he fought Thanos personally,” you said quietly, twisting the hem of your shirt around your finger.
“He told us about that,” Peter recalled. “Purple guy, right?”
You nodded. “He’s the one who sent Loki. He’s the reason for the Battle of New York. He wanted the infinity stones I told you about. And he got them. He took one from Strange and then came to Earth and took the last one out of Vision’s head,” you said, recalling what Tony had told you once, when you summed up the guts to talk to him about what happened and finally ask what happened to Peter. It broke your heart.
Peter grimaced.
“Once he had all the stones, all he had to do was snap his fingers. And half of all living things on Earth disappeared,” your bottom lip wobbled. “Turn to ash right in front of us. That was the blip. It lasted for five years. That’s why I’m five years older than all my friends. Everyone I knew was blipped,” you sighed.
“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Peter said genuinely. “I’m so sorry, that sounds…heartbreaking to deal with. I’m sorry you had to do it alone, he said pulling you in for a hug. “I understand why you don’t want to go back."
“But?” You mumbled against his shoulder. “There’s always a but.”
“But, you don’t…belong in this universe. I don’t think you exist. Or at least I’ve never encountered you. We have to find a way to send you home,” Peter said, rather weakly.
“No,” you said. “You don’t have the technology nor the…magic to send me back, so I’m stuck here. Whether I like it or not. And I won’t let you destroy yourself trying to find a way to do it. Just…please. Let it go. What’s done is done.”
Peter sighed, leaning his head against yours. After a long moment, he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “If that’s what you want, okay. We’ll deal with this together.”
You smiled. “Thank you, Peter,” you murmured.
—
Explaining to May who you were was easy enough. Peter had spun an elaborate story about you being one of his classmates—whom he got close to during a collaborative assignment for class. And that now that you had graduated and were of age, you had nowhere to go. (apparently in his story your parents had cast you out, so that was fun).
May allowed you to stay for as long as you needed, which you would forever be eternally grateful for. She was such a nice woman, and it was entertaining to hear all her stories about Peter. It was fun to see how much him and Peter 1 really had in common,
After that though, things got tricker.
You didn’t actually exist in this universe. Or if you did, you weren’t in any sort of government database. Meaning you needed legal documents. You needed an ID, social security number, and birth certificate. And that was just to start.
Fortunately for you, you had met some interesting characters during the blip back in your universe. These people were a constant in your new universe, so all you had to do really, was ask. And they provided.
And in a few simple months, you had your degree, which didn’t feel like forgery because technically you had earned it. Just not in this universe. And objectively, your universe’s education system was a lot more difficult than this one. You also had your, ID, and SSN. You got a job, and managed to rent an apartment. With Peter of course, you could never afford it yourself. He chose to live off campus with you, rather than enjoy the full college experience and live in the dorms.
His reason was he couldn’t sneak out to be Spider-Man in a dorm with other people. You told him he was simply clingy. Plain and simple.
He was.
“Baaaabe!” Peter whined, quite loudly, from bed, his hand extended dramatically towards you. His upper body was hanging off the bed towards you. Very dramatic and clingy. But in a good way.
You ignored him as you headed towards the closet and began to search for an outfit for the day. “Get out of bed, spider boy,” you replied, a smirk on your lips. He hated when you called him that. So obviously you had to call him that to tease him.
“It’s Spider-Man, thank you very much. And I can hear the lack of a hyphen. There’s a hyphen for your information,” Peter haughtily corrected, "we really don’t have to get up. We can go back to bed. Or we can cuddle. We could do both,” he tried to persuade.
“No,” you responded and flicked through the clothes hung up. “Peter, you’ve been talking about me meeting Gwen for ages. Did you suddenly forget? We can’t just blow her off. Especially when we have to go get her from the airport,” you reminded.
Peter was silent. Too silent.
You turned around.
Peter was sitting up, blankets pooled at his waist. His hand slapped over his mouth, eye’s wide. “Ooooh,” he whispered.
…yep. He forgot. Typical.
“Aren’t you supposed to be a genius, Mr. Parker?” You rhetorically asked.
Peter raised a hand. “In my defense,” he said, putting a finger up. “You’re just so attractive that I forget everything when I look at you, love.”
You waved your hands. “Okay! Enough of that, now. Get dressed,” you nervously laughed, rubbing the back of your neck, even now he managed to fluster you. “We’re gonna be late, and I know how much it sucks to be forgotten at an airport.”
“That was one time!” Peter cried.
You laughed heartily, “get dressed!” You exclaimed.
“I’m going, I’m going,” Peter waved off.
You reached for a shirt, before abruptly ripping your hand away, taking two big steps backwards. You stared at the flickering sparks of magic in your closet in disbelief, "peter,” you called.
You heard the sheets rustling before he was at your side. He stared at the sparks in the closet, then back to you, “you think…?”
“Yeah,” you murmured. “I do.”
The sparks began to grow as a circular portal opened. And there Peter 1 stood, Ned and Doctor strange on either side of him. M.J stood with Ned to the side.
“I didn’t think that would work,” Ned breathed. “Y/N!” He exclaimed.
“Y/N…” Peter 1 said, eyes wide as he stepped forward. He was stopped when Strange held an arm out in front of him.
“If you go in, you might not come back out,” Strange warned, "connecting two universes like this is fickle magic, one we don’t have much research on. So stay here,” he said firmly.
“You’ve grown up,” you said softly, taking in his appearance. He looked older and exhausted. What had happened to him in your absence? “How’s adulthood treating you?”
“You wouldn’t believe the things that have happened,” Peter 1 chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, “it’s been insane. And, hi, Peter 3.” He waved with a friendly smile.
Peter waved back, considerably less excited, his brows pinched together, "what are you…? What’s going on?” He asked, glancing at you and then back.
“Come on, let’s hurry this up,” Strange urged and snapped his fingers a couple of times, “we don’t know how long it’ll take for us to give this a second shot. Y/N, let’s go.”
“What?” You asked, unable to process that this was happening. This was real, Peter 1 was here. He was here to take you back.
“Y/N, we came to bring you home!” Peter 1 explained. “You have to come quick, and then I can explain everything, okay?”
“Peter, I…I can’t. This is my home,” you said, reaching for Peter’s hand, something to ground and reassure you.
Peter laced your fingers together.
Peter 1’s face crumpled. “..what?” He nervously laughed. “What? No—no, your home is here. In our universe. You belong here. Please, come with us.”
“No,” you said, voice wavering. You had never been able to say no to him, but you didn't want to go back. You couldn't. “I don’t belong there anymore, Peter. I’m sorry.”
“Y/N, what are you talking about? Please, just come through the portal and we can talk about this,” he pleaded.
“It’s been almost a year, Peter. I finally…I’ve finally settled down. I have a life now. I have a—a job and we bought an apartment. I just…I can’t leave. And even if I could, I don’t want to. This is my home.” You knew even then that he wouldn’t understand. It was fruitless to try and explain to him why you wanted to stay. But maybe that would lessen the blow of you leaving. In all fairness though, he technically left you first.
But then Peter 1 said the words you’d been dreading.
“I can’t lose you too,” he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek. Then another. And before you knew it, he was crying in earnest. “You don’t know what’s happened here. Everyone forgot me and I only just got them to remember and convince them to do this. You’re my best friend, Y/N. Please, I can’t lose you," he sobbed in the most heartbreaking voice you'd ever heard from him.
“I’m sorry.” You willed your own tears away, squeezing Peters hand. You forced yourself to remember the horrors of your original universe compared to the peace of this one. You couldn’t go back. You wouldn’t survive. But Peter 1 just didn’t understand. He was a superhero. He had the powers and the ability to adapt to the crazy shit that went on in the world.
“Please understand,” you begged, longing to reach through and comfort him, but you didn't want to risk him pulling you through. “I can’t…I wasn’t made for that universe, Peter. Aliens? Supervillains? People turning to dust for five years? I can’t. I won’t go back to living in fear everyday of my life! Waking up and wondering if today's the day I finally die because some—some asshole developed powers and their first instinct is to wreak havoc!”
“Y/N—”
“No, Peter! Do you have any idea how nice it is to wake up to peace? To be able to turn on the news and not wonder how many people have died in the latest catastrophe?” You demanded. “I miss you. And I love you. But not enough to go back. You’re my best friend, Peter, but it’s time to let go.”
“Please don’t do this, Y/N. We can figure something out, can’t we? I don’t want to let you go. I don’t want to lose you,” Peter said, but there was less desperation in his voice. He was beginning to understand.
“You’re not losing me, Peter,” you said. “We’re just…going our separate ways, yeah?”
Peter 1 looked downright miserable as he nodded. “Going our separate ways,” he repeated. “Okay.”
You let go of Peter’s hand and stepped forward, towards the stable portal. You brought yourself to the edge, about an inch away from the actual portal and stared at Peter 1. You smiled sympathetically and opened your arms. “Hug before you go?” You murmured, trusting that he wouldn't yank you back into your old universe.
Peter 1 wasted no time, undeterred by Strange’s warning about it being dangerous. He reached through the portal, pulling you forward as well and hugged you tightly, his face buried against your shoulder. “I’m gonna miss you.”
You held him close, savoring this moment with your best friend. Even though you hated your universe, you didn’t necessarily hate the people in it. And you’d miss him like hell. “Take care of yourself, Peter,” you whispered. “Don’t overwork yourself. Don’t patrol when you’re hurt or sick, okay? It’s okay to take time off. And don’t slack off on your homework, alright? You come first before Spider-Man. Understand?”
Peter 1 nodded. “I know, Y/N,” he mumbled against your shoulder. “I know, I won’t forget.”
“M.J, you make sure he takes care of himself, understand?” You directed your attention to her, voice tight. “He pretends he’s okay, or that he’s not injured. You have to check yourself to make sure he’s okay after patrols. And he gets sniffly when he’s getting sick. Don’t let him fool you, he can get sick despite the bite. He has to rest, don’t let him overwork himself.”
“I know,” M.J murmured. “I’ll take care of him, Y/N. I promise.”
“Good,” you said, giving Peter 1 a fierce squeeze, holding back your tears. You couldn’t let them fall. Not while he was watching.
“Peter, the portal is destabilizing,” Strange warned.
Peter 1 lifted his head, bloodshot eyes boring into your own. “Goodbye, Y/N,” he stepped away from you, back into his own universe.
“Goodbye, Peter,” you said, willing your voice to be strong as you stepped back as well, just as the portal closed. And only then did the tears fall.