Chapter Text
Peter Parker had seen the world end before.
His own–more times than he could handle, if he stopped to think about it too long–as well as the larger cosmos. But this . . . this was new.
“Are there–people in the sky?”
Peter swallowed, his throat dry at the sight of the sky splintering like glass, an in-between void of purple and blue mist cutting through the night sky. Peter 2 might have been severely injured, but not to the point of hallucinating; sure enough, barely visible from their distance were the wispy but distinct forms of people, becoming more solid by the second.
He’d been little help to Dr. Strange so far, but Peter had made this mess, and he was going to see it through, no matter what it took.
“I-I gotta go.” He hated leaving Peter 2 injured, but at least he wasn’t leaving him alone.
Luckily Dr. Strange was still within easy swinging distance, hovering only feet above the Statue of Liberty’s bronze torch. Peter perched atop the flame, looking up and trying to focus on Dr. Strange rather than the collapse of the universe around them.
“What’s happening?”
Strange’s voice shook in a way that terrified Peter. “They’re starting to come through, and I can’t stop them. They’re here.
“They’re here because of you.”
It would have hurt less if the sorcerer had punched his soul out of his body again, Peter’s chest slicing with guilt that was of no use now. They’d come too far for good intentions and apologies to do any good.
“What if–” Peter had to force himself to say the words, but he would because this was his fault to begin with “–what if I wasn’t here?”
Strange stared at him, understanding flickering in his eyes against his will.
“Cast a new spell, sending me to a different universe–somewhere far enough away none of them would be able to follow. They’re coming here because of me, so get rid . . . of me.”
“No.”
“But it would work, right?” Peter’s voice wasn’t smug, wasn’t even quite hopeful, but filled with a quiet, simmering need. He needed to know that something would fix this without hurting anyone else.
“Yeah, it would work,” Strange spit out, his voice oddly choked. “All this multiversal energy in the air right now, it would work. But you have to understand: if those guys–” he nodded up at the shattered sky “–can’t follow you, then I can’t either. Once you go, all the people that know and love you, we–we’d never see you again.”
He’d be leaving Ned, and MJ. He’d never get to see his family’s gravestones again, nor the one they’d erect for May. There was no way to know what kind of world he’d end up in–far enough away to lose the track of anyone coming through those portals, but presumably still with breathable air? With humans?
Most importantly, though, he’d be alone. No allies, no friends, no Avengers.
It would end this, though. It would protect his friends, and solve the mess he’d made. It was what May would have done.
He nodded. “I understand.”
Dr. Strange nodded shakily, acceptance finally filling his gaze as he came to the same conclusion Peter had.
“You’d protect them, right?” He nodded down to his friends. “Make sure the other Spidermen are okay?”
“Of course.” Dr. Strange exhaled shakily. “You’d better go say your goodbyes; you don’t have long.
“Thank you, sir–”
“Call me Stephen.”
Peter turned back. It was almost a useless offer; he’d never see the man again in a few minutes. He accepted the olive branch, though, giving the sorcerer a small smile. “Thank you, Stephen.”
He let Stephen Strange keep his pride one last time, not commenting on the way the man’s eyes shone, or how he blinked them a few extra times as he murmured, “yeah . . . still feels weird.”
Peter gave him one last nod goodbye. Stephen’s response was almost lost in the wind, but Peter still heard it as he swung back down.
“So long, kid.”
/*/*/*/*/
“What?”
“No.”
They’d thought the worst was over, had hugged him in relief and smiled in triumph and Peter had had to watch the hope dissolve from their eyes, the smiles fall from their faces.
“I have to go,” he repeated, as if hearing the plan again would make them more amenable to it. “Stephen’s using the failing spell’s multiversal energy to take me out of the equation. I’ll be hidden so far in the multiverse they’ll never find me, or be able to come back here. You’ll be safe.”
“You’ll be gone,” MJ’s choked voice was more accusatory than Stephen’s had ever been.
“I have magic now,” Ned said desperately. “Maybe if I train enough, I could find you one day. Fix things so you can come back. You-you have to come back.”
Peter nodded, giving his friend a small smile, as if it were any small feat to accomplish what the former Sorcerer Supreme had called impossible.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his throat tight. “I’m sorry it all went this far, that you’ve had to suffer for my mistakes.” He couldn’t look away from the stark-red blood above MJ’s eyebrow. It was barely bleeding anymore, but all he could see was the possibility if Peter 3 hadn’t been there to catch her. Saw her falling, crashing, the blood seeping across her cheeks, her forehead, into her hair– “I’m sorry–”
MJ cut him off, taking his face in gentle hands as her lips pressed to his. When he breathed, he breathed her, holding her carefully around the waist and pulling her closer as her hands traveled from holding his jaw to loosely holding around his neck.
When Peter pulled back, it was less to end the kiss, and more to properly take in her beautiful face for the last time. He thumbed away the tears that had slipped down her cheeks. “It’s going to be okay.”
Ned held out a slightly-trembling hand. “One last time?”
Their final handshake was done almost entirely on muscle memory, Peter watching his oldest friend through a haze of tears he fought to blink out as soon as they arose. They pulled each other into a bone-crushing hug at the end, burying their tear-streaked faces into each other’s shoulders.
“We don’t need you to apologize,” he sniffled. “We just want–we just need to know you’ll be okay.”
Peter nodded, even though he was sure they all knew he couldn’t promise such a thing. “I’ll be okay. I’ll keep going.”
“We’ll make sure everyone knows the truth about you,” MJ swore, a fire born of pre-emptive grief and loss lighting her eyes. “About Mysterio–all of it. I’ll make New York regret ever calling Peter Parker a murderer.”
Ned nodded in agreement. “Also, I’m burning Flash’s book.”
Peter couldn’t help the startled huff of laughter from bursting out, the sound mixing with his sniffles. “I love you. I love the two of you so much.” He leaned into MJ, pressing his forehead to hers. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” The whisper was forceful, steady in the knowledge that this was their last time to exchange the words.
Without a word, the three of them melted into a last hug, holding tight with the knowledge that, in a moment, even the tightest of embraces couldn’t keep them together.
Peter did his best to make the most of his final few moments; breathing in the scent of the people he loved, absorbing their scent and the sound of their breaths, their heartbeats right next to his own.
In the end, though, there was nothing he could do when Stephen’s spell was finished, drawing in the power from the rip in the universe and throwing him somewhere new, Ned and MJ’s arms closing around air as Peter Parker disappeared.