Chapter 1: you'll go fight a war, i'll go missin'
Chapter Text
You know what? Things had been fine. Good. Great, even. Franklin’s nearly two—been Hell on wheels since he got mobile. There’s been not a hint of any Galactus sized problems.
It was even going well with that lady that’s drawing out the coloring book—they’ve been expanding into toddler products recently, Johnny wants everything Franklin owns to have his favorite uncle’s face on it. All the groundwork was laid out with her. 2.28 more encounters and he was gonna finally ask her out.
See? Going great.
Then villains started appearing out of thin air.
And no, not in the metaphorical sense. Like they weren’t paying attention and then AHH, attack of the robots. No, these guys have literally just been… appearing .
Of course, Johnny is a man of science. First time, he figured Oh, the witnesses must be wrong. Being scared can do strange things to the mind. Guy probably climbed up out of the sewers or something, that’s how he snuck up on everyone. Reasonable, just like always. He’s known for that kind of thing.
Then, it happened again. With about triple the witnesses. All of them saying the same thing, no he just poofed into existence. One minute not there, then the next— Like they said. Poof.
Still, Johnny held it together. Everyone around him is always looking to him for his steadfast surety, and his penchant to never overreact to anything ever. Besides, seeing is believing.
Then, Reed picked up some weird energy and they went to the site and yeah. Poof. Nothing one minute—the next, a flying angry guy rippling with electricity. Why not? It’s Wednesday, after all.
Johnny skids against the pavement as he comes to land alongside Reed and Sue. They’ve barely gotten started and he already feels like he’s running on empty. Of course, Sue realized almost instantly that the guy was sucking up electricity from all around him, so then of course Johnny had to fly across the city to tell the public works guys to shut it off. And yeah, it took a while. What, is he just supposed to know where the public works people are off the top of his head? Reed would say yes but his opinion doesn’t matter right now.
“What’s the sitch?” Johnny asks, eyeing their villain.
“Ben’s invulnerable to the attacks, but this Electric Man is able to stay airborne,” Reed analyzes, fiddling with some contraption in his hands. “It’s made getting any counter moves in very difficult.”
“He’s a good distraction though,” Sue appreciates, watching as Ben screams expletives up at Zappy Man and receives a barrage of Zappies for it.
“Okay, so he’s stupid,” Johnny cocks his head.
“Actually, I estimate his intelligence to be parallel with your own,” Reed mutters.
“Hah.” Johnny breathes mirthlessly. “I know where you sleep, Richards.”
“Next to my beautiful wife?”
Said beautiful wife uses her psionics to pick up a car and throw it at Ben. He catches it easily, and tosses it upward at their foe. It’s sliced clean in two before it ever gets close. Johnny is getting really twitchy now.
“Can I torch this guy or what?” Johnny demands.
“Give me just—Ah!” Reed looks up from the… thingy in his hands. “Yes, just as I suspected. There are traces of multiversal energy emanating from that man. Particles from multiple different universes, actually…”
“And I’m sure that has nothing to do with the trans-dimensional portal you’ve been toying with in our basement.” Johnny scathes.
“There is a difference between trans-dimensional and trans-universal. Peering into other dimensions is child’s work. What I’m doing is far more—”
“Johnny!” Sue snaps, and he’s not quite sure why he’s being yelled at, but he flames on anyway.
Should be easy from there. Johnny can blast a little, block a little, fly a little faster. Maybe this guy will vanish like the other two, or maybe they’ll stick around long enough to be apprehended, but either way, Johnny dials back on the heat. It’s an unspoken rule that he’s not allowed to kill anyone unless his big sister says he can.
Unfortunately, the key word in that scenario is should. With that guy’s electric web, it’s impossible to get close. And even with Ben splitting his attention from the ground, Zappy Guy nearly fries his eyebrows off at least three times. Would be more if Sue wasn’t quite so fast with the shields.
And yeah, this is really starting to piss Johnny off. This guy like, isn’t even a real guy. He’s some trans-dimensional, multiverse hopping weirdo. There’s no history here. This is a fourth page story in the paper at best.
Besides, Johnny has his afternoon booked for watching cartoons with Franklin, and this is really cutting into that.
Lowering to the pavement, Johnny zips up next to Sue. “Encase him with all his electricity, then when I get close, drop it and let me at him.”
Sue’s only response is to narrow her gaze at him from the corner of her eye. She’s got that look in her eye she always gets when Johnny tries to give her orders in battle. Well, the look he gets when she secretly knows it’s a good idea. The other is a lot meaner.
Apparently, she’s the nice sister today. She does as suggested, warping the light and air around Zappy to encase him in a little egg. Finally, it allows Johnny to get in close. She drops it at the perfect time, right as he releases a streak of flame and—
It hits his nose first, the acrid tingle of electricity in his nose hairs. Then, every follicle of hair on his body stands on end. His vision preemptively whites out. And then Johnny gets slammed with an ungodly amount of electricity.
Just for a moment, he’s a missile.
He doesn’t remember landing. He doesn’t remember any pain. He doesn’t remember a single feeling.
He’ll always remember the sounds. Thunder cracking in the air as electricity disperses. His sister’s scream somewhere in the distance. Sirens and crying children.
Then, he’s pretty sure he died.
✦
Peter’s been having a shit day. Or maybe week. Or maybe life , he doesn’t know. All he knows is the last person he wants to see right now—or ever— is Doctor Strange.
But that’s who he’s faced with now, flying beside him with his red cloak billowing. Really, Peter thought going to the top of the Empire State Building to eat his lunch was as good a way to get some privacy as any, but apparently he’s wrong. He swallows a sigh, and takes another bite of his partially stale sandwich.
“Spider-Man,” Doctor Strange greets, like they’re simply coworkers, and he didn’t wipe Peter’s entire existence out of the universe. Because of course, to the Doctor, that’s all they are. Sure, they fought Thanos together, but in his mind Peter always kept the mask on.
Peter only grunts in assertion, finishing up the last of his sandwich, and pulling the lower half of his mask back down over his chin. Momentarily, he debates throwing himself from the rooftop to simply lose Strange. He probably could. He’s spent a lot of time just swinging between buildings, trying to go as fast as possible.
He doesn’t know why he stays, but he does.
“Something I can help you with, Doctor?” Peter asks, and winces at how cold his voice is.
But Strange just smiles pleasantly—fake. “As a matter of fact, there is. A multiversal threat is awakening, and you’re the only person who can help.”
Peter’s chest tightens. “Oh, uh… All that multiverse stuff? I don’t really do that, you know. I’m just a… friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. I try to stick to the ground. Well, not literally, but I—”
Doctor Strange holds one trembling hand up. “I’m well aware of your stance on non-neighborhood issues. But this is your neighborhood. Just a different version of it.”
Peter still hesitates. Yeah, meeting his alternate selves was cool and all, but the rest of it was… Well, he’d really just rather not mess with any of it. Multiverse has taken more than enough from him already.
But just as he’s inhaling a breath to refuse again, Doctor Strange beats him to the punch.
“Just come to the Sanctum and hear what we have to say. There’s a twenty in it for you.”
And that, stupidly enough, makes Peter pause. Strange must know he’s strapped for cash. Going to the cool wizard mansion to listen to some junk he’s going to refuse, and he gets paid for it? Yeah, he’s done a lot worse for a lot less.
“Throw in a hot meal and it’s a deal,” Peter bargains.
“Done.”
✦
Twenty minutes later, Peter is slurping at some weird looking gruel, wallet a little heavier, and is still finding it just as easy to say no.
“So, there’s a group of villains traveling trans-multiversally,” Peter sums up. “And you want me to stop them.”
“That’s not—” America Chavez winces. “Not entirely it—”
“It’s not a group traveling,” Doctor Strange cuts in. “Not like that incident from a few years ago.”
Peter forces himself to remain very still at the mention. He’s never been sure how much of that Strange remembers. Enough, apparently.
“This is essentially the essence of those villains.” Strange continues. “A conglomeration of parts of them from different universes. The idea of them, if you will.”
“And currently, they’re all manifesting on Earth-828,” America continues. “The heroes there have reached out to the multiverse for help. They’re mighty, but few, and they can’t face this danger alone.”
“I still don’t get why you’re asking me,” Peter admits.
“These are villains you’ve faced before,” Strange explains. “Besides, in the canon of the multiverse, it is statistically proven that if Spider-Man faces these foes, fatalities and structural damage decreases sharply.”
“Okay,” Peter shrugs. “Great. Find another Spider-Man. There are plenty of us running around. Hell, I’ve got two I can personally recommend.”
“It’s not that simple.” Strange narrows his eyes.
“We’re the only universe that has answered the distress call.” America’s voice is small—sad.
That makes Peter pause.
Strange leans forward suddenly, and for the first time, he’s a lot more like Peter remembers him being: very unkind.
“What exactly are you planning to do otherwise, Spider-Man?” Strange demands sharply. “Okay, you refuse. You walk away from a crisis. Then what? Go back to showing up late to Kate Bishop and Clint Barton’s gang busts? Wave from afar as Daredevil takes on Kingpin? Get trampled so the New Avengers can take their most recent photo op of a disaster? Maybe you can head over to Jersey—except, wait no, Ms. Marvel has things covered there too.”
Peter remains very, very still as Strange continues—unwilling to show his growing anger. He won’t rise to the bait. He won’t. Sure, he’s being forced out. He’s not stupid, he knows that. Every three blocks there’s a wannabe hero, and Peter just isn’t fast enough anymore.
“Your friendly neighborhood doesn’t need you anymore.” Strange spits. “This one? It does. People are already dead. Twenty-one killed in an incident with Electro. He hit the hospital. There were kids. Kids, Spider-Man. And it’s only going to get worse. Once they start to stabilize they can take full form, become even more powerful.”
Peter stands up sharply, boiling. “Sounds like that universe’s heroes need to work a little harder.”
With that, he storms out of the Sanctum.
✦
That night, Peter can’t sleep.
All he can think about is those kids. How many has he saved? Pulled from wreckage, or taken bullets for, or swung out of a crisis zone? Those kids in that other universe didn’t have him. Maybe that’s the whole problem.
All because of that asshole Electro. Peter can see why someone would have trouble with him. If he hadn’t had Peter 3’s advice…
Pulling himself from his bed, Peter traverses the few steps of his shoebox apartment and pulls the window open. He scales the wall like he so often has. He’s only been caught climbing onto the roof once, but that guy was so high Peter is sure he thinks he hallucinated it.
There’s no one up there tonight. He sits himself right at the edge of the stone half-wall. Far enough that anymore person would scare. It’s not far enough for Peter. It’s never far enough.
He lets out a deep breath, and he closes his eyes. All his inhibitions fall away, and Peter’s hearing extends to its breaking point. It takes a while before he can parse anything. None of it is very clear, but he gets what he needs. Daredevil and Jessica Jones and Luke Cage. Kate Bishop and Yelena Belova. Bucky Barnes and Ava Starr and John Walker. They’re all out there. All fighting. And the scraps left for Peter are… nowhere to be found.
He’s going to get his suit before he can change his mind.
✦
At dawn, Peter thumps against the Sanctum's large, circular window. Inside, heading for the stairs, Doctor Strange only looks mildly surprised to look up and find a man-sized bug. He lowers the papers in his hands.
“How do I get there?” Peter calls through the glass.
✦
Two hours later, after a brief call ahead, America Chavez punches a hole in reality.
With one deep breath, Peter discovers a new world.
Chapter 2: now what's right is right, but you ain't been right yet
Chapter Text
Now really, Johnny would say this is all an overreaction. Yes , he almost died. But calling around the multiverse begging for help? Trying to get a new guy on board? If Johnny hadn’t been in a coma at the time, he would have been vehemently against it. And since he didn’t get a vote at the time, he is now making his opinion everyone else’s problem.
But then his mind flashes with those news lines. Twenty-one dead. Twenty-one dead. Twenty-one dead. And the more he thinks it the more he is willing to fall onto his knees beside his family, and pray .
From the moment Johnny is made aware of Reed’s little message to the multiverse, it’s bad news after bad news. First, no one is responding. Then they’re responding and saying we can totally help . Then they go back and think on it and go actually we’re not gonna send a monk army like we said we would, we need this one guy . And then they go get that one guy and then say oh sorry that guy doesn’t want to help, get bent .
Then suddenly, Johnny is being given five minutes to pull some pants on—while he’s in a sling mind you!—and get downstairs to greet their new recruit.
He doesn’t know what he’s expecting. Maybe the ground to split open? Or a tear in the fabric of reality? Or the classic, a poof .
Instead, a glimmering star cracks the air. There’s a moment where Johnny sees straight through the portal into what looks to be a house of some kind, with a few people crowded around. Then, a skinny guy in a mask is getting pushed into their reality, and the star collapses in on itself.
The masked guy—what’s up with the skintight suit? Nice view, but must be irritating on the armpits—looks behind him, like he’s just as confused by the sudden removal of the portal. Then, he’s turning to face the Four. Somehow, it’s easy to tell he’s smiling behind the mask.
“Uhm, howdy,” Masked guy is chipper. “Heard there was some multiversal trouble. So ah, here I… here I am.”
It’s almost impressive. If Johnny’s dose of pain meds hadn’t been lowered he might’ve patted him on the shoulder in sympathy. Instead, he settles for raising his eyebrows pointedly at Reed. This is the best he could come up with?
Reed, of course, doesn’t notice him—too busy looking desolate that the portal closed before he got a good look.
“Here you are,” Sue agrees, welcoming as she steps forward. “Spider-Man, is it? We can’t thank you enough for your willingness to come help us. The people of our world are in your debt.”
“Oh, hey,” Spider-Man laughs sheepishly. “I don’t know about that. Haven’t even done anything yet… Besides, that’s not what it’s about, y’know, I don’t really believe in debt, not for this stuff.”
Sue’s smile widens and her eyes glimmer with warmth. Correct answer. Great . Looks like Johnny’s plan to slap a Return to Sender sticker on him and be done with it is pooped.
“Well, Spider-Man, my name is Sue Storm,” Sue introduces. “This is my husband Reed Richards, my brother by soul Ben Grimm, and my brother by blood, Johnny Storm. We’re the Fantastic Four, the protectors of Earth-828.”
For what it’s worth, Spider-Man doesn’t seem at all put off by Ben. Johnny watches sharply as he takes the massive rock man in. Of course, the mask hides a lot, but his gaze doesn’t even linger—snapping instead to Johnny at Sue’s prompting.
Johnny wonders what this off-worlder must think when he looks at him. Normally he’s a decently sized dude, but next to Reed and especially Ben he’s not exactly intimidating. Not to mention the sling holding his left arm and a colorful splattering of bruises and cuts across all his visible skin. He’s tempted to light himself on fire just to make his threat level clear, but he’s sure Sue would throw him into the river for it.
“I thought we’d begin by showing you around,” Sue explains. “I understand you’re also from New York, but it’s still unclear how much difference there is between our two worlds.”
“Well, we definitely don’t have that on my world,” Spider-Man muses, gesturing up to the Baxter Building.
“This is our home,” Sue smiles. “The Baxter Building. Headquarters of the Fantastic Four, and home of the Future Foundation. It’s also where you’ll—”
“ Woah is that a spaceship?”
Okay, maybe this guy isn’t so bad.
“The Excelsior,” Ben explains proudly, walking down the path to get a clearer view. “State of the art. She’s completed six round trips so far, with more on the way.”
“You guys have been to space?” Spider-Man asks excitedly.
“How else would we have gotten our powers?” Johnny questions, a bit genuinely.
“Oh cool, you have powers?”
Johnny and Ben exchange a glance.
“How else would we be the defenders of this earth?”
“Well, I didn’t know if you guys were the powers kind of superheroes or the punching kind of superheroes.”
”I like punching,” Ben provides.
“You have worldly protectors with no pronounced genetic mutation or supernatural abilities?” Reed questions, finally finding something for his super-brain to lock onto that isn’t how sad he is about the portal disappearing.
“Uh, a couple, yeah,” Spider-Man shrugs. “Hey, did you say you got your powers from space ?”
✧
They tour around the city in the Fantasticar. Johnny wants to fly alongside to help with the crowding issue—and to show off—but Sue gives him a look before he can even suggest it. No “flaming on” until he’s better healed. That’s what Reed says at least, but when has Johnny ever cared what he said? When Sue backs him up, that’s when.
At least the Spiderling seems impressed by the car.
It’s pretty damn clear to Johnny that the bug is intimately familiar with every street they pull down. But every once and a while, he does point out a building or park that’s different. It’s vaguely intriguing, but not enough to keep Johnny from getting restless. Reed is furiously writing on a notepad the whole ride.
Their visitor gets a little more animated when they tour the building. He keeps calling things “retro” and “old school”, and even though he says it like it’s cool, it still feels like a back handed compliment. Is he trying to not so subtly imply that his universe is far more advanced than theirs? Well of course they are, they’re some sixty years in the future. But does he have to rub it in?
They tour the quarters he’s been assigned—guy gets a whole floor to himself, and Johnny is certainly offended by that.
“And here we provided a collection of books and video tapes detailing the Four’s history here,” Sue points out the neatly organized pile on an end table. “We’re happy to talk to you about anything, but I’d hate to forget something and leave you at a disadvantage. It’s all widely available knowledge.”
“And—” Reed swoops in now. “There is a collection of general historical retelling. Major events and such. If you would be willing to look through it and notate the differences from your own world, we might be able to pinpoint exactly when our two universes split.”
Most anyone would be put off by Reed’s request, but Johnny is beginning to realize this Spider-Guy isn’t quite normal .
“Yeah, of course, that’s a great idea,” Spider-Man agrees. “I’d be interested to see where we differ too. Everything is so… nice here. I want to know what went wrong in my universe. Or I guess, what didn’t go wrong here.”
The last part is said as only half a jest. Either Spider-Man is a little too optimistic about the state of their reality—mole-men stealing buildings, and intergalactic gods coming to eat planets included—or things are really bad where he’s from. And goddammit, now Johnny’s curious too.
Now, Johnny figured the tour would end there, leaving Spider-Man to himself, but surprisingly, Sue leads them upstairs to their personal quarters. Johnny is more hesitant. Sure, they’ve let the press up here on occasion, but that was always a very controlled experience where the Four held all the power. And could clean first. But this ?
“Of course, everything we do is a group operation,” Sue is explaining in the elevator. “And truthfully, our team is larger than just the four of us. You should meet our last two, most important members.”
It hits Johnny at once then.
“Hey, wait just a second—” he tries to protest.
Sue glances behind him and gives him the shut up, it’s my baby look. Usually that gets him back in line. But this… They don’t even know this guy! He’s a total unknown entity, from a universe that’s apparently a lot more chaotic than theirs, and Sue wants to place a baby within his grasp on the first day. And not just any baby. A baby that a cosmic entity already went through all of space to get his hands on.
But then the doors are opening. Johnny won’t say anything else, but he places himself firmly on their visitor’s heels—fists clenched and ready to spout flames at one singular wrong move.
Greeting them at the entrance is Herbie, dressed politely in an apron. Their newcomer is rushing forward then. Johnny tries to catch his arm, but he’s too damn fast. Goddammit he knew—
“No way, you have a robot!” Spider-Man is crying out in glee. “And look at that, he has full articulation. How did you get the hydraulics that precise—What’s his processing power like?”
Herbie tilts his head and makes a few whines and clicks.
“Well said, Herbie.” Reed steps forward. “Herbie here would like to welcome you to the Baxter Building. We don’t get many visitors who can appreciate his finer mechanical details.”
“He can talk ?” Spider-Man sounds like Reed just signed over sovereignty of the entire Eastern Seaboard. “What is that, binary? It’s nothing I recognize.”
“It’s actually a complex string of…”
As usual, Johnny tunes out the nerd talk. Robotics was never his thing. Herbert is perfect, that’s all Johnny cares about. Instead, he zeroes in on Sue as she smiles and steps away—straight towards the nursery.
Johnny runs up to fall in step with her, hissing his concerns. “What are you doing ? Dude’s been in our universe for six hours, we have no idea who or what he is, or what he’s capable of, and you’re about to hand him Franklin ?”
“If he can’t be trusted with my son, he can’t be trusted to protect our universe,” Sue says, like it’s that simple.
“I’m pretty sure the best way to test his trustiness with universal protection is to, you know, give him a threat to fight—not hand him quite possible the most powerful being in the universe!”
Sue stops just short of the door, turning to him with a flat expression. “Johnny, what will you do if Spider-Man makes one wrong move toward your nephew?”
Stupid question. “I’ll burn the head off his shoulders.”
“Exactly. Now help me change Franklin into his dinner clothes.”
Five minutes later—Franklin fought really hard to negotiate not having to wear shoes—they come back down to the living area. Surprisingly, Spider-Man is still entrenched in conversation with Reed about Herbert. The robot is absolutely preening over the praise. Ben has migrated to the kitchen to check on dinner.
“Boys, sorry to interrupt,” Sue calls. “But Spider-Man, there’s someone we would like you to meet.”
It takes a second for Spider-Man to pull his weird, lensed eyes away from the robot. When he does, and spots Franklin in Sue’s arms, they widen further than Johnny thought possible. He freezes. And Johnny knows.
This guy has no idea how to interact with children.
“Oh, uh—” Spider-Man falls forward with a gentle nudge from Reed.
“Spider-Man, this is Franklin. Mine and Reed’s son.” Sue smiles proudly.
“And my nephew,” Johnny adds sharply. “And big rock guy’s nephew. Have I mentioned I can light myself—and others—on fire?”
Either his insults fall flat—dumb sling making him look all weak and stupid— or Spider-Man is simply too caught up in being faced with a toddler, because he doesn’t react at all.
“And Franklin,” Sue softens her voice for him like she always does. “This is Spider-Man. He came from somewhere very far away to help us out. So that way Uncle Johnny doesn’t have to get hurt again.”
And that stings.
“Hi,” Franklin greets, less shy than normal.
“Uh, hi little guy,” Spider-Man stumbles over his words. “How are—How are you? How’s uh, preschool?”
“He’s two.” Johnny provides flatly.
“Oh, so no school? I think? How is uh, cartoons going? Wait, do you guys even have—”
“Your insides are wrong.” Franklin states plainly.
That causes a ripple of surprised silence in the room.
“Franklin,” Sue chides, pulling at his sweater. “That is not a nice thing to say—”
“You belong somewhere else,” Franklin continues—uncaring of his mother’s correction, which is approximately the first time that’s ever happened.
If Spider-Man seemed out of his depth before, he looks like his reality has just been altered. Which, well, it has been. But he seemed to handle that pretty well, all things considered. Apparently, a mystically charged baby is a step too far, though.
“Son, do you remember when I explained multiversal theorems to you before bed last week?” Reed steps forward. “After we finished Green Eggs and Ham?”
Franklin blinks. “Yes.”
“Our guest here is from a universe parallel to our own. He is going to help us combat a threat from worlds beyond our own. Then, he will go home.”
That seems to sate Franklin.
“Can I have some Lucky Charms now, Mom?” Franklin questions, sounding much more like himself.
He’s instructed to wait until after dinner, and just like that, everyone starts acting like it’s a normal evening. Herbert goes over to help Ben finish dinner. Reed takes Franklin from his wife and works on getting him situated in his high chair at the head of the table. Sue pulls plates from the cabinets. And Johnny… is left with the new guy.
Assessing him out of the corner of his eye, Johnny feels the need to interrogate. “How many villains have you defeated?”
Spider-Man looks over at him, wide-eyed. “Uh, I haven’t really been keeping track.”
“How about space gods? Defeated any space gods?”
“Yes, actually. He snapped half of all life out of the universe—”
“Whatever. That’s not even that impressive. That’s like, Tuesday here. What about a team? Ever worked on a team before? Or are you the brooding lonesome type?”
To that, the bug-man hesitates. “Yeah, I worked on a team before. A long time ago.”
Just as Johnny is about to probe about what that means—he probably got kicked out, he seems like someone who would get kicked out of places—Herbert rings the dinner bell.
Johnny gives him one last narrow eyed look, and then heads to his spot at the table.
“Spider-Man, you’re welcome to eat with us, or you can take a plate down to your own rooms.” Sue offers. “Whatever will make you most comfortable.”
Considering they’ve been around the guy all day and he hasn’t lost the mask, it’s probably staying on.
“Oh, uh, no, this is fine,” Spider-Man stutters over his words, sliding into the chair Sue offers him at the end of the table.
He’s just to Johnny’s right that way—and furthest from Franklin—and he decides that’s a perfect setup. Keep your enemies close, or whatever. He watches with some vague interest as the Spider-Man rolls up the bottom part of his mask. The rest of it stays on.
“I guess you probably want to talk about your villain situation,” Spider-Man guesses as Ben places a plate in front of him.
“No,” Reed says matter-of-factly. “That briefing is scheduled for 10am tomorrow morning.”
“We try to keep business and family as separate as possible,” Sue explains. “No talking shop at the table, that’s the rule. Besides, we’re in no rush. Reed has been measuring the time between anomalies and we have at least three days until the next is probable. You have plenty of time to settle in first.”
“Oh.” Spider-Man deflates lightly. “Okay. Sure.”
“Dig in, please,” Ben offers. “Ziti casserole is Herbie’s specialty. It’s—“
He does a chef’s kiss, and that small gesture eases a little more tension out of the Spiderling’s body.
With Sue and Ben’s easy guidance, regular conversation picks up from there. It’s almost— almost— like a regular night. But then there are the times they rope in Spider-Man, asking no probing questions, but trying to get him involved.
All the while, Johnny sits in silence, slowing boiling over this disaster waiting to happen.
✧
In the morning, they convene in the regular place—Reed’s lab.
Johnny is already situated inside when Ben leads Spider-Man out of the elevator. Reed had insisted on taking another look at Johnny’s arm. Seriously, there’s no way it’s changing enough day to day to warrant this kind of attention, but whatever.
On his way to the yellow couches, Spider-Man’s attention seems to snag on no less than seven of Reed’s hodgepodge of projects. Probably wants to take what he can from Reed and patent it in his own universe to make it big… Because it doesn’t matter how “advanced” Spider-Man’s world might be—they’re at a huge disadvantage. They don’t have Reed.
“Spider-Man,” Sue greets, pushing to her feet with a smile. “Good morning. I hope your rooms are comfortable.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever slept in a bed that nice,” Spider-Man admits.
He’s still in the suit, but he’s at least thrown a red zip-up jacket over it. Still, he looks out of place. None of them wear their costumes to briefings. Johnny is seriously starting to wonder if this guy is super disfigured or something. There’d be nothing wrong if he was, but the hiding it is the weird part.
“You gonna come identify your baddie’s, or what?” Johnny asks petulantly, as Spider-Man gets distracted by the equations on Reed’s chalkboard.
“Oh! Right, uh, yeah, do you have—”
As he comes to the couch, Reed produces a hefty folder.
“ Ooh , it’s all on paper.” Spider-Man wiggles a little as he takes the stack. “That’s so official and top secret.”
Johnny has to scowl at the guy, but the others all seem to be holding their breath as Spider-Man flicks through the papers. They’re all counting on this. That last encounter really shook them all up. If Spider-Man can’t do what they say he can…
Well, Johnny knows they’ll figure it out. And probably a lot quicker and with less stress. They’re the goddamn Fantastic Four. Protectors of Earth. They don’t need some nobody from another world to swoop in to save the day.
Just because Johnny screwed up doesn’t mean he needs to be replaced .
Spider-Man begins seeming overwhelmed by the papers, so he gestures to the floor. “Can I…?”
Reed steps back with a nod, ceding him the carpet. Spider-Man kneels there, laying and grouping the papers so he can see them all at once. He sits up, trying to get the bigger picture, and rubs his chin.
“Okay, this first incident—” Spider-Man taps the grainy frame of film footage showing a woman getting grabbed by a metal arm. “That’s Doc Ock. Or the stupider name, Doctor Octopus. Or his actual name, Doctor Otto Octavius. He had a degenerative nerve condition, so he invented the arms as an accessibility device or prosthetic. But the implant to control them is faulty, and instead it sort of controls him and makes him… like that.”
He moves to the next one, this time a collection of scavenged pictures of a man with metal wings. “This is the Vulture, Adrian Toomes. He’s actually one from my universe. Honestly, he’s been screwed over by the system a lot, but instead of doing anything productive he just became a career criminal. Robberies and stuff like that. He’s pretty greedy and single-minded, but he will try to kill anyone who gets in his way. Including me.”
He points to the last pile, and Johnny inadvertently averts his eyes. “And that’s Electro. Looks like you already figured him out. He’s able to harness electricity from nearby sources. He’s also a career criminal, but he mostly focuses on trying to steal the largest energy sources he can so he can become more powerful. I’d look into reinforcing your security, because I’m sure there’s any number of things in here he could exploit.”
Reed only nods grimly, eyes flicking from volatile experiment to volatile experiment.
Carefully, Spider-Man looks back to each of them sitting on the couches. “I’m sorry for what he did. There really is nothing he won’t do. I hope you all know it’s not your fault.”
His lenses seem to linger on Johnny at that last part, and something uncomfortable surges in Johnny’s chest. He expected himself to react with anger, but this is… He looks away.
“But hey, you know how to defeat these guys right?” Ben points out hopefully. “They show back up, we pound ‘em, everyone goes home safe. Easy, right?”
“Well, theoretically,” Spider-Man rubs a hand down his masked face, suddenly seeming tired. “Apart from Vulture I don’t have too much experience fighting them, but… The problem is that even if we defeat them, there’s no guarantee they won’t just show up again. They’re not concrete universal beings.”
“We need a way to stabilize and expel them,” Reed confirms.
“Right. Usually a portal would work, but we’re not sending them back somewhere. So we’ll have to come up with our own way to make sure that when they dissipate, they stay gone.”
“Well, no problem,” Johnny cuts in boldly. “I don’t know if you know this, pal, but you’re talking to the smartest man in the entire multiverse. If anyone can figure this out, Reed can.”
One by one, Sue, Ben, and Reed all turn to look at him with the most bewildered look in their eyes. He suddenly worries they’re going to throw him back in an MRI to check for brain damage from his concussion. He throws his good hand up in surrender.
“Look, I have never once doubted Reed’s intelligence,” Johnny argues. “It’s the everything else about him that’s the problem.”
Apparently feeling like that’s more like it, they all turn back to the situation at hand.
“Okay, so three doses of go-away serum,” Ben sums up. “We fight ‘em, stick ‘em, everyone lives happy ever after, yeah?”
Spider-Man is hesitant. “I’m not sure it’ll stop at the three. There was… Well, on my world… We had a multiverse problem, and some of these guys got through, but… I would just expect a bigger group. They like to travel in herds.”
“How many are we talking here?” Johnny asks trepidiously.
“I had five,” Spider-Man shifts uncomfortably. “I’d plan for at least that. But probably no more than six. Or well, hopefully, I guess.”
If Johnny had any worry about them having to create such a nebulous substance—he wouldn’t even know where to begin—it’s all assuaged as Reed marches up to his chalkboard and wipes a section clean. He begins to write. And write. And write.
Sue stands, and Johnny and Ben easily follow. They know what’s up. She crouches to help Spider-Man collect the rest of his papers.
“Come on,” She says softly. “Best to let him work in silence. Give him a week, he’ll have this all figured out.”
Spider-Man nods hurriedly, letting Sue usher him to the elevator. Just as he steps over the threshold, he looks back over his shoulder at Reed, like he has something to say. Apparently, he thinks better of it.
Maybe he does have a good head on his shoulders after all.
✧
A day goes by. Then two. Johnny doesn’t see Bug-Boy. He doesn’t come to dinner, but only with the promise that he’ll join them on Sunday.
And you know what? Things are looking up for Johnny. He’s finally out of his sling. Day or two more and he’ll be cleared for “flame on” duty. He could probably get away with taking a small flight around now, but he decides otherwise. His restlessness is going another direction.
The elevator opens onto the guest floor. Either that means he doesn’t have a lock available, or he’s just choosing not to use it. Johnny doesn’t know which option he’d prefer. He’s suspicious either way.
He saunters out into the living area. It’s very similar to the Four’s, with its inlaid couch and rotund tv set, wide windows that lead out into a balcony, kitchen off to the left. Johnny is very tempted to go snooping to see the rest of the area, but that’s a little hard when his quarry is sitting right in the living area.
“Ah, Bug-Boy,” Johnny announces himself brashly. “Just who I was looking for.”
The dude doesn’t even give Johnny the courtesy of looking up at him—he’s just glued to the book in his lap. “Not what I’m called.”
“Well, see, it’s a whole new world for you, pal.” Johnny throws himself down on the couch, leaving enough room for Jesus and most of his disciples. “Perfect time for a rebrand. Because Spider-Man ? Really? That’s the best you could come up with? I don’t know, dude, I think it’s lacking a certain je nais se quois , y’know?”
Spider-Man finally raises his head from his book—one of the history ones Sue left for him. “Yeah, and the Human Torch is the best you could come up with?”
“Hey, that has flair. It’s good branding, you know. Fits in with the group, but has its own sort of pizazz. Plus, it’s very descriptive. Oh who’s he? Human Torch. Oh yeah, so he can light himself on fire? Exactly! It gets the whole thing across. But Spider-Man ? What does that even mean? What do you do ?”
The lenses of Spider-Man’s eyes narrow. “What exactly are you doing here?”
“What do you mean what I am doing here? It’s my building. I go where I want. Maybe I hang out on this floor all the time. You don’t know.”
“No, but I know that you don’t trust me, so I’m not exactly sure why you sought me out.”
Ah good, he did pick up on all the signals Johnny was putting down. Namely get away from my family, get off my planet, don’t even breathe near my nephew . Now if only he could flirt as effectively.
“Of course I don’t trust you,” Johnny narrows his eyes right back. “Why would I trust you? You’re some unknown mutated entity from another plane of existence. And you have landed squarely in the middle of my family. Explain to me why I should trust you with something as precious as that?”
“You shouldn’t,” Spider-Man admits, and Johnny pauses at how genuine he sounds. “No, really, it’s good instinct. I wish I’d kept my guard up like you have. I’d probably be a lot better off. A lot better off.”
Somehow, the air has started to feel very thick in here.
“Do you have family, Spider-Man?”
“Not anymore.”
“But you did once.”
“Yeah.”
“Then you know exactly why I can’t let anything happen to them. Because they mean everything to me. And without them, I’d have nothing. I’d be nothing. I would die a thousand deaths if it kept them on this world, happy.”
He leans forward, letting his voice drop very low.
“So you need to know. If you hurt any of them, I don’t care where you go. How far or how fast, I will find you. I will track you through the multiverse, I will burn entire realities if that’s what it takes. Your death will be slow, and I will burn the ashes of your ashes. Do you understand?”
Spider-Man is quiet for a long moment. But strangely, he’s not tense. He’s fidgeting with something—a canister of white fluid?—in his right hand, but that just sort of seems to be how he is.
“You’re a good man, Torch,” Spider-Man finally decides. “I wish I’d had more of that suspicion. Your family is lucky to have you.”
Before Johnny can say anything in response to that—that condescending drivel , his wristwatch is beeping. As it goes off, Spider-Man sits up, straight as a rod, eyes flying to the wide windows. Merely a second later, the side of a nearby building sloughs off.
“You stay right—” Johnny commands as he rushes to the window, but Spider-Man is right there beside them.
Without a hint of hesitation on either of their parts, Johnny Storm and Spider-Man leap off the Baxter Building, and join the fray.
✧
Okay, so ‘Spider-Man?’ Starting to make a bit more sense now.
After getting his suit, Johnny can’t even concentrate on the miniature dinosaur running amok, because there’s this little red blob flying through the air and sticking to walls .
Johnny flies up beside him as he’s swinging, eyeing the webs. “Is this stuff coming out of you?”
“No,” Spider-Man grunts, spring boarding off the side of a building to kick the dinosaur thing in the face. “I built these web shooters and—Well, there was a version of me that did have it coming out of him and it was really gross but—Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Not really,” Johnny keeps an easy pace with him. “I’m more interested in whatever the heck is going on with your and your pow—”
He’s cut off as a car goes flying between them, nearly catching and pinning Johnny. Really, it’s only the microsecond of a hand on his chest, pushing him back, that saves him. He looks down at the dinosaur in outrage.
Is it grinning at him?
“Okay, now I’m pissed,” Johnny announces. “Time for dinosaur extinction round two.”
He flies in, blasting the dino with flames. The force of it knocks him backwards, but doesn’t otherwise seem to harm him. Why’s that happening so much with these guys? It’s really starting to make him feel less like a formidable foe and more like a flashy target.
“He’s not a dinosaur,” Spider-Man calls, falling back into swing with Johnny. “He’s the Lizard. Doctor Curt Connors. He lost his arm and became obsessed with lizard limb regeneration, accidentally turned himself into a lizard, and now is obsessed with turning everyone else into lizards.”
Johnny does another overhead dousing of fire. The Lizard hisses and steams, roaring up at Johnny in outrage. He grabs the nearest car and throws it at them. They both dodge easily, and the automobile lodges itself head first in the nearest building.
Johnny’s heart is in his throat, but Spider-Man beats him to the impact site. He sticks to the nearest window, searching inside for civilians. Apparently it’s clear, as he rejoins Johnny’s side a second later.
One thing about the people of New York, they’ve gotten very efficient at evacuation.
“Well, at least he got his arm back?” Johnny muses.
The Fantasticar pulls up then. Johnny goes down to rendezvous with them and plead with Reed for a way to get rid of this guy. Behind him, Spider-Man makes some stupid quip and slams his fist into the Lizard’s eye. As he steps out of the car, Ben whistles.
“I thought we were dealing with baddies of the human variety.” Ben gestures to the Lizard.
Now really, Spider-Man acted like he was stupid for calling it a dinosaur, but what else was he supposed to think? The Lizard is about five times larger than a regular human, with clawed feet and hands, spikes down his spine, and a tail longer than a semi-truck.
“The Lizard,” Johnny decides to get them up to speed. “Crazy scientist type. Turned himself into a lizard. Wants everyone else to be lizards. That sort of thing.”
“Is no one else perplexed by the number of animal related villains this guy has?” Ben questions. “First an octopus, then a vulture, now a lizard. Doesn’t that seem a bit extreme?”
“Technically speaking, none of those are classed as what we traditionally refer to as an ‘animal’—” Reed muses.
“Reed, tell me you figured something out,” Sue prompts, eyeing the Lizard nervously.
“A few more days would’ve been helpful, but I do have this.” Reed pulls out a syringe.
A totally regular, human sized syringe. The type the doctors used to give Franklin his vaccines. Johnny stares from its tiny needle, over to the monstrous beast biting a car in half.
“Reed,” Johnny says tightly. “Buddy. Are you seriously telling me you expect us to stab that thing with this ?”
“It shouldn’t be too hard.” Reed is busy analyzing the Lizard—and the way Spider-Man is ricocheting off it. “It’s just a matter of getting close. Just be careful not to break the needle on his scales. You’ll have to target the fleshy area between—”
“Why are you saying this like I’m the one who’s gotta stick the guy?” Johnny demands.
“You’re the fastest,” Reed says, like it’s obvious. “Not to mention the clear advantage of flight, allowing for far more angles of entry than—”
“Won’t my fire just evaporate all your multiverse juice or whatever?”
“You’re in better control than that.”
“It’s multiverse juice , Reed! You have no idea how it’ll—”
They’re interrupted as a psionic field goes up around them. Hanging just over their heads is a chunk of building debris, caught by Sue just in time. Johnny glares at Reed.
“Sorry!” Spider-Man calls, from where he’s stuck in the Lizard’s month on the side of a building. “Good catch Sue! Now, Doctor Connors, if we could just have a civilized discussion—”
“Boys!” Sue snaps. “Enough with the complaining! Johnny, take the syringe. Ben, Reed, help me try to lure it back to the ground. When it gets street level, Ben, see if you can pin it. Johnny, you go for it when it’s down.”
“And Spider-Man?” Johnny demands, just to be contrarian.
Sue raises her eyebrows at where the Bug-Boy has just kicked one of the Lizard’s teeth onto the pavement. “I think he knows what he’s doing.”
They’re forced into action then, as Sue launches the rubble back at the Lizard—effectively turning his attention to the ground. With a sigh and a few grumbled curses, Johnny snatches the syringe from Reed, tucking it into his belt. Whatever. Whatever! He’s gonna cosmically vaccinate that dinosaur so hard—
He flames on, and with a little finesse from him, thankfully the syringe doesn’t burst or melt. Johnny flies overhead the Lizard, bathing it in flames. The beast hisses and cries, leaping to the ground in order to escape it.
“Connors, you’ve put on weight since I last saw you,” Spider-Man slams into the Lizard’s neck, shooting out webs on either side to pull him face first into the concrete. “You gotta tell me your secret so I can avoid it. Not a big fan of the spikes, dude.”
Johnny joins Spider-Man on the beast’s back, unable to stifle a snort.
“Should we really be making him more mad?” Reed asks tightly, stretching his arms around the Lizard’s claws to bind them.
“I dunno.” Spider-Man shrugs. “Makes the job a bit livelier though. Feels good to annoy them into submission, y’know?”
“See!” Johnny shouts. “This guy gets it!”
Ben comes to pin the Lizard’s snout to ground, easily snapping its seething jaws closed. “Not helping, Johnny.”
Light bends around him as Sue comes from behind, layering them in a blanket of psionic energy. The Lizard’s thrashing turns to nothing more than muscle twitches under her force. This is only helped as Spider-Man spits out balls of webbing, sticking the Lizard to the ground.
Well, that was easier than expected. Johnny pulls the syringe from his belt, kneeling between the Lizard’s spikes. He finds a spot between the scales, just like Reed suggested, and stabs.
And the needle slips off his hide.
Frankly, it’s a miracle the needle didn’t just snap in half. The Lizard begins writhing harder under them. Johnny has to grab onto the nearest spike to avoid being bucked off.
“ Reed !” Johnny yells. “The needle won’t go in!”
“Did you aim between the—”
“ Between the scales , yes! Yes I did! It bounced off!”
“We’ll have to find softer tissue. Maybe his underbelly—”
“Whatever you’re doing, do it quick!” Sue shouts. “I can’t hold this thing forever!”
“Yeah, he’s really nibbling on my fingers, you guys,” Ben provides.
Reed’s voice cuts back in. “Johnny, bring the serum to me, and we’ll—”
Three things happen at once. Underneath them, the monster gives a massive shudder as it pounds against Sue’s shield. Ben loses grip on his snout, and the Lizard snatches him between his teeth, dripping with saliva. Beside Johnny, Spider-Man disappears.
Johnny is just a few seconds too late on the uptake. But he turns around just in time to recognize the one part of the Lizard none of them have given enough attention to: the tail. He sees it begin to lash, and he’s just too slow.
“ Sue! ” Johnny screams.
The tail winds up, and she looks up, eyes wide. Her reflexes are fast, but she’s already extending herself to pin the beast down. She’s going to get hit, she’s going—
A flash of red. It barrels into Sue, sending her skidding across the concrete. That fleck of red takes her place, right as the tail connects. More red, darker, thicker, spreading as the spikes of the tail enter flesh.
Spider-Man goes flying into a nearby building—a crater left in his wake.
“Sue!” Johnny yells again, flaming on to reach her.
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” She’s shaking, but sits up on her own. “Is he—Oh, god, Spider-Man—”
Johnny has to put a wall of fire up to ward off another tail attack. The beast wails as he’s singed. With Sue’s concentration on her field broken, the Lizard is back up. It’s spit Ben out, probably realizing there’s no getting through him, and is going after Reed now.
The tail lashes out again, heading for Spider-Man’s body and—a field of shuddering light guards him just in time.
“I’ll take care of him, you send that thing back where it came from,” Sue commands.
Johnny’s chest tightens with assertion at her words, but it takes him a second to tear his eyes from Spider-Man’s limp body. He shoots up into the sky. Another cascade of fire flows through the Lizard’s spikes, causing it to roar in outrage. It swings up, biting at Johnny’s trail of fire.
Reed is completely on the defensive, scaling a nearby fire escape to get out of claw range. Sue is crouched behind a force field, pressing on Spider-Man’s chest. Ben is pummeling the Lizard’s forearms, successfully drawing its attention but not doing much damage. The beast tears up on its hind legs, roaring down at Ben in a hail of saliva.
The position gives Johnny a good view of its stomach and—no, that skin’s too tough. There’s no way the syringe will go through it. God, for being the smartest man alive, Reed really loves to be wrong all the time—
Ben yells back at the beast, launching himself in the air to clock its jaw and Johnny’s eyes stick on the pink skin of its mouth.
Bingo .
Johnny flies lower to pummel its eyes with fire, temporarily taking its attention from Ben.
“ Ben , get its jaw open and keep it that way!” Johnny shouts as he zips overhead.
“Are you really tryna test whether I can withstand a giant lizard’s stomach acid right now?”
“ Just do it! ”
Ben grumbles, but does as told, leaping into the air to catch the beast by the lower jaw as it roars up at Johnny. It hits the pavement with a crack . The Lizard cries in outrage, pushing forward and snapping at Ben. He withstands, catching it by the teeth and holding its mouth open.
Johnny hits the ground running, sprinting forward, syringe in hand. He tries to go for it and nearly gets his hand chomped off when Ben loses his grip. It’s only momentary though, and he quickly regains his hold, giving Johnny a hurry it up look.
The syringe meets the flesh interior of the Lizard’s mouth, just behind his teeth. It goes in easy. Johnny lets out a massive sigh as the fluid goes in.
“Get back!” Reed yells from somewhere above.
When Reed says that, it’s always a good idea to listen. Johnny and Ben both rear back at once. Something like a reverse black hole appears around the Lizard and swallows him whole in half a second flat. And just like that…
Poof.
Any sense of victory they might be feeling is interrupted by Sue’s panicked shout.
“Reed!” She begs. “Reed, please help, he’s losing blood, I can’t stop the blood—”
Oh, right. Spider-Man. Ben and Johnny exchange an uh-oh glance.
After all, they’ve just killed an alternate universe’s superhero.
Notes:
I promise Johnny will soften up soon, just give him time haha
chapter 3 next week!
thank you for reading, i appreciate you <3
Chapter 3: it’s been a long, cold, lonely winter
Chapter Text
Peter dreams of Aunt May.
Nothing specific. Just her. Her smile, and her hugs, and the nervous way she looked at him whenever he spoke about spider-business. All the while, he hears sirens, and smells smoke and blood, and feels a body in his arms.
When he wakes up, he’s in a hospital bed—which is probably in the top ten weirdest things that’s happened to him lately.
He’s not in his suit, and his immediate first thought is they took the mask off. But when he reaches up, he finds familiar fabric. Torn and frayed, but still there. Still enough to keep him safe.
He sighs, sinking back against the bed. There are no wires or tubes on him, which is surprising. He’s not really familiar with hospitals—he’s always taken care of the wounds himself. For good reason too. Whoever’s got him now is probably salivating at the way his wounds are closing.
“You almost died,” a newly familiar, irritating voice provides unhelpfully.
Peter sighs again, rubbing at his face through the mask. “Yeah, I got that part.”
He glances over to his bedside, where Johnny Storm is lounging in a chair, notebook in hand. It’s the one Peter has been using to document the historical differences between their two worlds. Yes, he always meant to show it to the Four, but he at least wanted to clean it up a little. Johnny, he’s learning, cares very little for what he wants.
“You saved my sister.” Johnny claps the notebook shut, staring those deathly blue eyes directly into Peter.
“She’s okay?” Peter asks hopefully.
“All thanks to you,” Johnny leans forward. “And I want to know why.”
Peter frowns. “What do you mean?”
“You saved my sister, and you almost died for it. You almost sacrificed your life for hers. Why?”
“What do you mean why? Why wouldn’t I? I’d do it for anyone, but especially her. She’s kind, she’s welcoming, she has a child, and a husband, and brothers—a family. She does real good in this world. Of course I’d trade my life for hers.”
“You’d do it for anyone.”
“I would.”
“But you did it for her.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Peter challenges again.
Johnny narrows his eyes. Analyzes him. For someone so charismatic and ostentatious, he sure knows how to lock down his exterior, make sure no hint of emotion shows.
The people of this world see him as the goofy one, the silly younger brother who goads and jokes his way through being a superhero. He’s the charmer that no one takes seriously. But Peter is starting to see the meat of it. Johnny cares deep down into his bones, and that makes him the most dangerous one of them all.
All at once, the tension breaks as Johnny flops back into his chair, propping his legs on the hospital bed.
“I guess I should say thank you,” He muses.
“I don’t do it for that.”
“No, but it’s usually the nice thing to do.”
Johnny gets quiet for a second, like he’s debating something. Peter lets him stew in silence. If he’s going to be so combative, his thoughts can eat him alive for all Peter cares.
But when Johnny speaks, it’s with a kindness Peter didn’t think he could possess. “You know, we almost lost her a few years ago. And sometimes, when I close my eyes, all I see is her lying pale on that pavement. Even if she’s here, and she’s okay now, I can’t stop thinking about it. She practically raised me, and I just can’t—”
He stops short, scowling at nothing that Peter can see.
“So, thank you,” Johnny says, with a kind of force Peter knows can’t be falsehood. “I mean that. And I won’t forget it either. I owe you, webhead.”
With that, he stands abruptly, and strides towards the door.
“Keep working on that notebook,” Johnny calls back from the doorway. “In its current stage, I estimate about an eleven hour session of Reed badgering you with questions. Trust me, you don’t want that.”
He slips out then, and Peter decides that he actually probably has really died.
✦
Secret identity aside, there is one very specific reason that Peter has never gone to a hospital. He is, very painfully, faced with that reason now, as Reed Richards paces back and forth in his lab, muttering about the science behind Peter’s healing factor. On any other day, Peter might find it fascinating. Today? He’s tired.
“And your other abilities are extraordinary,” Reed continues. “Clinging to surfaces as you do… Is there a time limit to it? Have you tested it on different surfaces? Is it touch based, or are you manipulating the fabric of reality on a molecular basis?”
“I… actually don’t know.”
“Fascinating. We should start running tests immediately. Am I correct in assuming you have superior strength as well? You accomplished quite a few feats that I have previously only been able to ascribe to Ben. Do you know the upper limits to such an ability? We have many ways to ascertain such a—”
“Babe,” Sue cuts in sweetly. “Take a breath. You’re doing too much too fast. You’re going to overwhelm the poor boy. He just got discharged from the medical bay, let’s not push him.”
“Oh, yes, good point.” Reed scowls at Peter. “Just answer me this for now. How did you come upon such wonderful powers?”
“Uh, bitten by a radioactive spider.”
“A radioactive spider...” Reed mutters to himself. “What sort of radiation could cause such pronounced mutation in a human? Perhaps when exposed to the venom…”
And… they’ve lost him. Reed is back at his chalkboard, brushing away some equations to make room for his latest string of thoughts. Peter can already spot three flaws in his logic, and contradictions to Peter’s own hypothesis about the spider, but he doesn’t interject. He’s too busy trying to quell his fight or flight.
It seems like the group is about to disperse, so Peter cuts in before they’re gone. “Just one question before you go.”
His voice is strangely authoritarian. It’s something he only developed after the spell that wiped him from existence. There was less room for his bumbling, socially awkward self in the world that he was left with.
They all clock the change in mood, freezing and looking at him.
“Yes, Spider-Man?” Sue doesn’t portray an ounce of nervousness or even surprise.
He sucks in a breath. “Did you take my mask off?”
A minute bit of tension eases from Sue’s shoulders. “No, we didn’t. By the time we got you to the med bay you were already healed enough that you didn’t need oxygen. Even if you did, we would go through the mask before we took it off.”
Peter nods numbly. He knew. But he can’t stand to think of himself like that, completely open and helpless in his unconscious state. He’s lucky this group is so kind—in another world… Well, there’s just no telling.
Then, of course, Johnny opens his big mouth to ruin things. “Uh, not sure if this has totally sunk in for you dude, but there’s not exactly an identity for you to protect on our earth.”
Peter glares at him. “Yes, I am aware.”
Johnny throws his hands up in an exaggerated shrug. “Then I’m having trouble understanding the whole mask and no name thing. Especially not around us.”
“I’ve revealed my identity to peers before. It hasn’t exactly gone well.”
It still stings to think about Quentin Beck. Just how trusting Peter was of him, just because he and Fury said he was a hero. Because Peter revealed himself to him, he lost everything.
“So you don’t trust us.” Johnny decides.
“I didn’t say that,” Peter argues. “You are not the problem. The thing is, when—”
Peter cuts off with a huff, trying to find his words. Surprisingly, Johnny gives him the space to do so. Those sharp blue eyes stay on him, watching. Studying. Like if he stares hard enough, he’ll be able to put all the pieces of Peter’s puzzle together.
As if Peter would even give him the chance.
“When you start revealing your identity, it can be hard to stop,” Peter explains tightly. “You trust someone, and they tell you to trust someone else, and suddenly it gets to the wrong person. And once it’s out there, there’s no taking it back.”
Not unless you give up everything, Peter doesn’t say. He’s never told anyone about the spell. Never had anyone to tell, anyways. Besides, saying it on his own world just seems… dangerous. Like it might break the whole thing.
“Well, I don’t mind it,” Ben cuts in, before Johnny can even finish processing—and Peter is grateful to the big guy. “Mask or no mask, name or no name, it don’t matter. You’re a good kid, we all can tell that. Damn good superhero too. We really don’t need anything more than that.”
Some of the tension leaves his body as Sue nods along to Ben’s words. Even Reed detaches from his chalkboard long enough to glance over his shoulder and give Peter an affirming nod. Johnny doesn’t react at all, still staring Peter down. Finally, Peter gives him his attention, staring right back at Johnny, unblinking.
It only takes a few seconds under his scrutiny before Johnny crumbles and looks away, starting to fidget. Chicken. All bravado, no substance. If only he wasn’t so good at getting under Peter’s skin.
The air is starting to get uncomfortable, so Peter pushes to his feet. “I need to stretch my legs. I’ll be up in my room if you need me.”
He’s given a myriad of soft farewells, but as the elevator door closes, he feels all the attention in the room zero in on Johnny. There’s the sound of rock against skin as Ben cuffs him. His cry out in pain is mostly muted by Sue’s angry hissing.
“What is your problem? You can’t keep treating our guest this way. You need to get your act together before…”
Her voice fades as Peter ascends a fifth level. He could stretch his hearing to spy on Johnny getting reamed—and maybe he should—but it feels wrong. It’s one thing to accidentally spy, it’s another to do it on purpose. Considering that they’re literally defending him right now, it’d be gross to turn around and violate their trust that way.
Peter makes it to the inlaid couch, and falls face first onto it. They’re being too nice to him. And what is he doing in return? He won’t even show them his face. Even though it doesn’t matter if his identity was revealed—he doesn’t exist here. And if it made it all the way back home… Well, what does he even have to lose anymore?
He cocoons his arms over his head, and forces his eyes to close.
He knows he won’t sleep, but it feels good to at least pretend.
✦
The next morning, the elevator dings open. It’s not totally unexpected—Peter left it unlocked for them. What is unexpected is who exactly the sliding doors deposit.
“Spiderling,” Johnny proclaims to the room. “I am here.”
Peter doesn’t look up from his place at the kitchen counter. He’s in the middle of sewing his suit back together, and really would prefer not to be disturbed. It took less time than expected to get the blood out with the soap they provided, at least. One of Reed’s patented products, apparently.
“What are you doing here?” Peter asks flatly as Johnny comes to stand on the other side of the counter.
“I have been informed that I have been, and I quote, a ‘huge dick.’” Johnny says. “So, to make it up to you, I have brought breakfast.”
He slams a box of Lucky Charms on the counter between them. Peter looks from them, up to Johnny, raising his eyebrows. The other man has a completely straight face.
“Is this what passes for home cooking on your world?” Peter questions genuinely.
“No, but I don’t waste my time on useless things like cooking,” Johnny explains, ripping into the box. “But look, I brought you my favorite. And see, totally fresh box. No stale cereal for you. Cherry on top, a gift in every box.”
He places a tiny action figure of himself on the counter. For effect, he presses the button on its side. The little plastic man echoes with a catchphrase: Flame on!
Peter drags his eyes up from the toy. “Is that seriously something you say?”
“Yeah, what about it?” Johnny questions, shoving a handful of cereal in his mouth. “It’s good branding. The kids love it. And like, how else would you describe what I do? Flame on! It just fits.”
“Do not light yourself on fire in my kitchen.”
“Hey, technically not your kitchen, and also we don’t have smoke detectors in the building.”
Peter rolls his eyes—hoping the expression shows properly through his mask. There’s no telling if it does, because Johnny doesn’t react. He’s had an entire lifetime as the annoying younger brother, it’ll take more than a huff and a puff to scare him away.
Whatever. Peter focuses back on the suit in his hands. None of the punctures were big enough to need extra fabric to fill. Just some stitches and he’ll be good to go. If only he were allowed to concentrate.
“You know, Reed really will make you a new suit,” Johnny says through another mouthful of cereal. “It’s like no problem, and that one… Man, it’s seen better days.”
Peter bites down on a sigh, unwilling to let Johnny see just how much he’s wearing on him. “I don’t need charity.”
“It’s not charity, it’s helping a fellow out,” Johnny argues. “You’re our guest. And frankly, we have an image to maintain. Being seen with you in that… I mean, is that craft fabric?”
Peter lets his project fall to the countertop, glaring openly at Johnny. “Not all of us have the resources of a multimillion dollar superhero conglomeration.”
“Except that you do. Right now. All you have to do is ask—”
“I’ve relied on others for that before. The suits, the tech, all of it. And look how that turned out for me, flamebrain. So, you know, I think I’m fine figuring it out for myself.”
Johnny shrugs, like it doesn’t matter to him either way. “Just saying, it would help us out. If you got a little more durable suit we wouldn’t have to worry about you getting shredded in a fight. But whatever. You keep going with this self sufficiency complex.”
That’s… a better point than he’s made during this whole argument. And just a good point in general. But Peter will be damned if he ever let that on. Thankfully, his ears prick then. He leans over to the radio on the counter, turning it up.
“Did you turn that into a police scanner?” Johnny demands.
“Yes, now shut up.” Peter listens intently, but quickly realizes it’s nothing more than a fender bender.
“You do realize that if anything happens, we’ll get alerted, right?” Johnny asks, tapping the device on his wrist. “You don’t need to be so hyper vigilant. Reed does enough of that for all of us.”
“Not all of us only focus on the major supervillain problems,” Peter mutters.
Johnny freezes, eyes narrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Peter shakes his head. “That I actually very rarely deal with these sort of… city ending problems that you guys do. I spend all my time out on the streets, helping people out with the everyday. Muggings and robberies and car crashes and cats stuck in trees. That’s what I do.”
“Then why aren’t you doing it now?” Johnny challenges.
“Not my world. Figured you guys wanted to keep an eye on me, not have me swinging through the city.”
“You’re not under house arrest.”
“So you’d be fine with me having free reign of your city?”
“Well, we just need a way to contact you in case of an emergency, so you’ll need a band but…”
Johnny slams his box of cereal back on the counter, chewing one last, huge mouthful. He dusts off his hands. Half the crumbs land on Peter’s suit.
“That thing ready to go?” Johnny nods to the suit.
Peter frowns. “Just about. Why are you—“
“Cool,” he marches to the elevator. “You have five minutes to get suited up.”
“What are you—”
“You wanna do some crime fighting?” Johnny demands with a grin. “Oh, I’ll show you crime fighting, webhead.”
He disappears behind the round sliding door then, and Peter is left staring after him in shock. Did he really just offer to…? The radio crackles beside him. Bicycle thief. Too fast for the police but… A manic grin breaks Peter’s face.
Johnny better be able to keep up.
✦
Turns out, he can do better than simply keep up. When he puts on the speed, it’s up to Peter to build momentum to stay at his pace. It should be irritating. Peter should be hating every second of it.
But as he weaves between the buildings, wind in his face, chasing after a man on fire, Peter can’t remember the last time he felt so alive.
With Johnny routing the police radio through his wristband, they’re able to follow the chaos. When that fails, Peter opens his senses and tracks the screams and cries himself. It takes them both a bit to get into habit of following the other, but soon they’re falling into a rhythm of trust.
As expected, Johnny is a beast. It doesn’t take much to scare off muggers when there’s a man literally engulfed in flames staring them down. It means Peter has less grunt work to do—which is more than fine by him. The violence was always the part he hated about the job. So, he lets Johnny do the scaring off, and he does the helping out and comforting.
It works. It actually works really, really well.
This version of New York is quieter than Peter’s. He thought as much, just listening to the scanner and the amount the Four are called upon. In the time between incidents, he and Johnny just end up racing between the buildings. And frankly, if every day of being Spider-Man was like this, he’d sacrifice Peter Parker entirely.
When the sun starts to dip, they both get a little slow. But they’re both proud, and neither of them wants to say they need to stop, so they go until they’re running literally empty. Eventually, they both just collapse on the same rooftop, breathing heavy.
“No one’s ever kept pace with me like that before,” Peter admits.
“I have no one to keep pace with me.” Johnny laughs, sitting up. “They just follow in the car but…”
“It’s not the same.”
“It’s not the same,” Johnny agrees.
They sit in silence for a long time. Long enough for Peter to start rethinking every assumption he’s made about Johnny. Frankly, he’s confusing as all hell. Openly challenging Peter one minute, offering to spend the day in the city with him the next.
Just as he’s about to ask Johnny just what his deal is, the man cuts in.
“C’mon, I need to eat.” Johnny leaps to his feet. “I know you’re not very liquid right now, so dinner’s on me. If you don’t piss me off between here and there, I’ll even show you my favorite hanging spot.”
Peter frowns at that, but follows when Johnny flames back on—and decides that’s still such a stupid thing to call it. They swing and fly a few blocks over, landing on the sidewalk. With confident steps—uncaring that everyone can see his flagrant use of power—Johnny ducks into a nearby pizza place.
It takes Peter a second, but as he crosses the threshold, he’s hit with a wave of memories.
“No way.” Peter trots behind Johnny. “This place closed when I was a kid. My aunt used to take me here. Best crust in Chinatown.”
Johnny flashes a winning grin back at him, and winks. That freezes him in place for exactly three seconds. Just when he thought Johnny might be done messing with him… He’s not sure why something so benign caught him so off guard though.
“Hey Manny,” Johnny calls, coming to the counter. “Two pepperoni please, large. If you throw on that garlic butter I like so much on the crust there’s an extra dollar in it for you.”
It takes Peter a second to remember that a dollar is probably worth a lot more than he thinks it is, and that Johnny’s not just messing with them.
“You spoil us,” the man behind the counter drawls, shouting the order back into the kitchen.
For a second, Peter just has to marvel at it. Here’s an unmasked hero, in full costume, just… waltzing into a place and receiving a perfectly normal welcome. Sure, there are a few girls in the corner whispering and giggling, but everyone leaves them alone.
“Oh hey, you’re that new guy,” the cashier, Manny, addresses Peter. “Insect-Guy. You helped defeat that dinosaur thing.”
“Uh, it’s Spider-Man, actually,” Peter says tightly. “But yes, sir, that was me.”
He’s not sure what reaction he’s expecting exactly, but it certainly isn’t the man sticking his hand out for a handshake. Gingerly, Peter grabs on and shakes. The man’s hand is firm, the kind of handshake that comes with respect.
“Thank you for helping our pal Johnny out,” he smiles, crooked. “Business might go under if he wasn’t here to fill up.”
“Now, hey, he didn’t really help me specifically out—” Johnny tries to cut in, but is shut down by an eyebrow raise from the cashier.
Rule one, never piss off the guy giving you pizza.
Peter is left shaking the man’s hand too long, a little stunned by the whole thing. He can’t remember the last time someone thanked him on such a human level. After the Mysterio fiasco, the tides changed on Spider-Man, and even the spell never quite put things right. And with Jameson twisting his every action, Peter never quite got back to ‘neighborhood hero’ status.
Johnny nudges him sharp in the side, and Peter snaps out of it, dropping the man’s hand. Peter clears his throat. Thankfully, the pizza comes out barely a second later, already packed neatly in two boxes. Johnny tosses a wad of cash on the counter that looks decent even to Peter, taking the boxes in a practiced routine.
“Thanks Manny and friends!” Johnny calls, pushing his way back onto to the street.
He doesn’t stop on the sidewalk. No, he backs all the way into the center of the street, like he owns all of New York City. There’s a dangerous kind of twinkle in his eye as he grins at Peter.
“Try and keep up, webs,” he balances the pizzas in one hand, palming fire in the other.
When he jets off, Peter is already airborne. He’s forced to follow though, because Johnny hasn’t told him where they’re going, and also he’s holding his dinner hostage. Still, he refuses to give him an easy win, neck and neck with Johnny the whole way.
He nearly gets whiplash when Johnny pulls short, skimming along the water. It’s starting to look unsettlingly familiar. With the decades of changes it takes Peter a second to realize it.
Bastard lured him across the river to Jersey.
Just as he’s about to web him from behind and slam him into the concrete, Johnny blasts off in another burst of fire. The setting sun glimmering off the river makes his surroundings hard to sparse. But there’s no making that silhouette.
Peter snorts. Of course he would choose maybe the most iconic monument in America, and certainly in New York, to have a pizza party on. Jack ass.
Webwings out, Peter skids over the surprisingly clean river. With a little bit of leap-frogging off the ferry, he lands on the railing. It takes exactly two webs to propel himself up onto Lady Liberty.
“The Human Torch’s favorite hangout spot is the torch of the Statue of Liberty?” Peter sits down heavily beside him. “Little on the nose, don’t you think?”
“You have absolutely no sense of branding,” Johnny mutters through a mouthful of food.
He’s already downed two slices already. And Peter thought he had a post-patrol appetite… Guess the fire has to be fueled by something.
Peter glances over the edge of the burnished gold fire, down to the statue. It’s copper-green still, unlike that awful cleaning they did to her on Earth-616. No shield either. Although, Peter kind of ruined that addition anyways…
“You good?” Johnny asks through another mouthful of food. “The pizza is actually for you too, y’know. I’m not evil enough to eat two pizzas in front of you. That would be really funny though.”
Peter sits back up. “No, it’s just… been a while since I’ve been here. Last time wasn’t exactly a trip worthy of the t-shirt.”
“What happened? Drop your ice cream cone?”
“Something like that.”
Peter cracks open the pizza box, stealing a slice as he rolls his mask up with one hand. It’s a practiced motion by now. He doesn’t think twice about it since he’s eaten with Johnny and his family a few times by now.
“You get so cagey sometimes,” Johnny scoffs. “You’re gonna have to let me in eventually, Bug-Boy.”
“Is that a challenge? Because I really assure you I do not.”
Johnny just rolls his eyes, relaxing back on his hands. Peter nibbles on his pizza. It’s even better than he remembers it being.
This should be harder, he thinks. Eating pizza he used to share with Aunt May and Uncle Ben, at the site where the spell to erase him from the earth was cast. But here, post-crime-fighting-tired, in a world apart, his mind is oddly quiet.
“Thanks,” Johnny cuts in softly, suddenly.
Peter raises his eyebrows at him. “For what?”
“Today. It was fun.”
“Yeah… thank you too.”
They sit in silence for a moment, just staring into the sunset.
“It is a good view,” Peter murmurs.
Johnny smiles at him. “It is.”
✦
He’s woken suddenly the next morning by the alarms blaring. Seems Reed’s predictions are still marginally off. This next baddie wasn’t supposed to arrive until the afternoon.
Peter is out the window in an instant, always hesitant to shed his suit these days. Not a moment later, the Fantasticar sidles up under him. Letting himself drop, Peter lands on the passenger side of the windshield.
“Hey, wipers!” Johnny calls. “Wipers! Bug on the windshield!”
Peter is getting increasingly good at ignoring him. “Where are we headed?”
“There was a spike in multiversal residual energy in the Upper East Side,” Reed explains.
“Evacuations?” Peter asks. “That’s something you guys do, right?”
“Already working on it.” Sue is tapping at her wristband.
“Wow, you’re so efficient,” Peter breathes. “Hey, wait a second, if Reed is tracking this guy, and Sue is heading the evacuation, and Ben is driving… what exactly are you doing Johnny?”
“Not blocking the windshield, unlike some people.”
Peter rolls his eyes. “Last one there is a rotten egg.”
He leaps off the car, falling into a sharp dive to gain speed. When he finally shoots out a web, the force of his swing is enough to make his shoulder wince in protest. He lets out a happy holler to the wind.
“That is not fair!” Johnny is screaming from above him, having just leapt out the car.
With the speed he’s able to build up, it takes Peter no time at all to reach the Upper East Side. He swings down and lands in a crouch on one of the larger streets. It’s already deserted. Damn, these people are great at running and hiding.
Peter stands, hands on his hips. He looks around, finding nothing out of the ordinary. His senses reach far out around them, but nothing. Behind him, the Fantasticar and the Human Torch land.
“I don’t know, I don’t see any—Shit—!” His spider-sense zips down his spine like a live wire.
There’s barely a hair’s breadth between Peter’s skull and a fist twice its size. He does a few flips back, landing in a crouch to assess. Only a gray blur is visible, charging straight towards Peter. With an undignified yelp, he shoots upward, catching himself on the third floor window of a brownstone.
The building shakes as something big, heavy, and mean impacts its lower levels. Peter winces. Hopefully they have fantastic Fantastic Four insurance here.
“Ben!” Sue shouts.
“On it, boss!” He yells back, mid-run. “Hey, ugly! Pick on someone your own size!”
Reed slings himself up to the rooftop just above Peter. “Who is that?”
Peter has to squint his eyes to peek through the dust and debris. What he sees is a figure more Hulk than man, layered in a patchy gray armor. At the crown of his helmet—is that a rhinosaurus horn?
“Oh, have you come to play, little thing?” The guy yells out in a Russian accent.
“Actually, I’m a pretty big Thing,” Ben cracks his neck to one side.
Johnny flies up on Peter’s side, also looking at him skeptically for an answer.
“I… have no idea,” Peter admits.
“What do you mean?” Johnny demands. “These are supposed to be your villains right? You’re supposed to have the know-how to defeat this guy!”
“Well, I think I’d remember fighting a heavily armored, nine foot tall Russian!” Peter snaps. “And it’s really not ringing any bells!”
“No matter,” Reed cuts in. “His defeat will come the same way as the Lizard’s.”
From his belt he pulls an auto injector, larger and longer than Peter’s hand. It’s gray, ringed, with a comically red button at the end. Peter lets out a breath. Just like the Lizard. Get between the armor, send him back to… whatever demiplane of existence he comes from.
“Alright, let’s go,” Johnny holds his hand out expectantly.
Reed holds it even further out of reach—which considering his stretching ability, is pretty damn far. “Not you. This one is for Spider-Man. He has a better chance of getting close with this one. All he has to do is get on its back, and hit it in the neck.”
“I can do that too!”
“But can you adhere to the surface of its armor to avoid being bucked off?”
Silence.
Reed’s stretchy arm curves around to present the auto injector pen to Peter. He takes it gingerly. There’s no telling what this thing will do if it comes into contact with anything or anyone not dressed like a rhino. Personally, he’s not interested in that particular experiment.
“Okay,” Peter sounds more resolute than he feels. “Let’s get this guy outta your universe.”
They break with a fluidity that Peter doesn’t expect. Johnny flies overhead of the Rhino, dousing it in fire and hurling insults. Reed winds his arm around the Rhino’s neck like a lasso, causing him to fall to his knees. Peter comes in, injector in hand, reading to hit the soft spot where his head meets his neck.
As soon as he touches strange, polymer armor, the Rhino rears his head back. Peter momentarily sees stars at he goes flying, rolling ass over tea kettle across the pavement. Peter didn’t know it possible to laugh in a Russian accent, but this guy is doing it.
“Ow,” he whines into the cracked concrete.
“Spider-Man!” Sue screams.
Flickering light shimmers over him, just in time. The Rhino’s massive foot—easily able to encompass Peter’s whole chest—is stuck a mere two feet above him. Grimacing, Sue turns from defense to offense, throwing the force field into him.
The man goes skidding back into Ben and Reed, who work on restraining him again.
“Spider-Man!” Ben yells. “Why are all your villains animal themed?!”
Peter shakes concrete chunks off as he pushes upright. “Uh, good branding?”
Thankfully, Johnny is too busy dousing this guy in another fire bath to notice that Peter is picking up on his wording. Just as Rhino is winding back for a brutal blow to Ben, Peter shoots his webshooters at either of his massive hands. Digging his heels in, he pulls with all his might.
The Rhino falls back one step, two steps. Then one more. Peter realizes too late the slack in the lines. Rhino tugs his way into a turn, holding his hands tied in front of him. Then, he pulls.
Peter isn’t sure the expletives that come out his mouth as he goes flying face first into the concrete at the Rhino’s feet, but he knows they can’t be aired on the news.
“Puny little pauk,” Rhino goads. “You will die like all the rest of them.”
A burst of psionic energy just manages to throw Peter out of the way of Rhino’s massive boot aiming for his skull.
“Not today,” Sue challenges, hands raised and flickering with fractured light. “Johnny!”
She throws her hands out, making a barrier of light between her and the Rhino. Peter isn’t sure of the purpose, until Johnny comes swooping in from behind. His body pulsates with fire as he throws it out, straight through Sue’s wall of light.
They just made a magnifying glass, Peter realizes in wonder.
The Rhino cries and shouts in pain, throwing his hands up. The tip of his horn is melted. In a blind rage, he started lunging towards the area of the attack. Sue has to throw up a barrier and turn invisible to avoid getting crushed.
Johnny isn’t so lucky.
The worst part is, he’s moving. Blasting out of the way. But that attack must have winded him, because he doesn’t get far enough. The Rhino gets him by the ankle. If the monster of a man even feels the burning, apparently he doesn’t care.
With an incoherent cry, the Rhino winds up his arm, and he throws.
Peter is moving without thinking.
He’s not gonna be fast enough, he’s not gonna be fast enough, he’s not gonna be fast enough—that’s all he’s thinking as he flies after Johnny. Please be fast enough. Just this once be fast enough—
Peter grabs Johnny by the arm. Pulls him forward so Peter is behind him. Grabs on tight, and covers his head. Then, his spine cracks into a building.
✦
“Spidey, Spidey come on. Stay with me. I still owe you for saving my sister. I owe you for saving me now too. You can’t leave me with that kind of guilt, man—”
Peter groans, rolling onto his side. “Shut up. I’m not going to die.”
“Hey, no,” Johnny pulls Peter back to lay on his back. “I don’t know a lot of first aid, but I’m supposed to keep you on your back so you don’t aspirate.”
“I’m not going to aspirate.”
“You can’t be sure about—”
“What about if I had a neck injury and you’re trying to roll me on my back and accidentally decapitate me?”
“You’re not going to be decapitated, drama queen.”
“See! Finally we’re on the same page.”
With a very unsexy groan, Peter lifts himself into a sitting position. Surprisingly, Johnny’s hands are on his shoulder and arm, steadying him. Even when he’s upright, Johnny doesn’t let go.
It’s completely dark, and a little dank. There’s concrete dust heavy in the air. Sparks of electricity from broken circuits, and the stink of glycol seeping from air conditioning units.
“Where are—what?” Peter’s chest is getting tight.
There’s not a lot of space around them. Less and less so as things shift and lower and squeeze around them. He doesn’t even need a spidersense to know there are layers and layers and layers of rubble above them.
They’re trapped.
Johnny is explaining just that, but Peter only catches the last half. “…and I made a little flame to look around, but there aren’t any clear exits. We have some input of oxygen, but using my power will gobble it all up.”
Peter is nodding absently, when a chunk of rubble above him shifts downward suddenly. It’s not close enough to hit him, but it might as well have buried him alive. He presses his face into the concrete under him. He’s breathing too hard.
“Spidey?” Johnny questions tentatively, hands still on him. “Hey, come on. Deep breaths. It’s okay, we’ll get out. Ben will get us out.”
“How?” Peter demands—or begs, the line is thin right now. “I have the pen, Johnny! They can’t beat that thing without me!”
“Just trust them. They won’t leave us here. They would never leave us here.”
Peter shakes his head. “No one comes. No one will hear us. We’re trapped. We’re gonna die here. They did it, they won.”
“Hey, now, let’s not—”
“You don’t get it!” Peter screams at him, and it takes him a few uneasy breaths before he realizes he’s crying.
He remembers this feeling. It’s just like it was then. All this weight on him, burying him. No help, no matter how long he screamed. And he did, he screamed himself raw. But he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe. It was like all the strength in his muscles was being extracted from his body and put right into the weight burying him, crushing him, erasing him.
“Spidey, buddy,” Johnny is gentler than Peter has ever heard, laying flat on the ground to be eye level with him. “You gotta breathe, okay. Gotta lose the mask, it’s impeding—”
“No,” Peter seethes. “I told you no, I told you why—”
Johnny grabs his hands, presses them together, and encompasses them entirely. “I won’t look. I promise. It’s too dark in here anyway, but I will close my eyes, and I won’t open them until you tell me to, okay? But you need to breathe.”
“Promises mean nothing,” Peter’s voice is thick with a sob.
“I’ll swear it, then. Spider-Man, I swear to you on my nephew’s life that I will keep my eyes shut until you tell me not to.”
And that makes Peter pause. Because Johnny loves his family—his sister, his best friend, his brother-in-law he pretends to hate. But Franklin… Peter’s only seen them together a few times, but he knows. Johnny would burn the world for him.
And Peter, more than anyone, understands how deep an uncle’s love can go.
“Okay,” Peter’s voice cracks. “Okay.”
Johnny takes their conjoined hands, pressing Peter’s to his eyelids so he can feel them close. Peter keeps them there, feeling the way his eyelashes flutter as his eyes twitch around under their lids. Slowly, he peels his mask up from under his skin.
It feels like coming up from the ocean. No, it’s not clear air. It’s marred with concrete dust and smoke and probably all kinds of nasty chemicals. But it’s the first breath he’s taken that feels like it goes down all the way to his lungs.
He doesn’t know how long he stays there, hand covering Johnny’s eyes. A primal fear still sits in him, but his mind is clearing to at least work on a plan. He shuts his own eyes, takes another deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” Peter murmurs. “This uh… this happened before. I was fifteen and Vulture dropped a building on me. I really thought I was going to die. I kept yelling but…”
“I’m here now,” Johnny promises. “I hear you.”
Peter cracks a crooked grin. “But can you lift a four story building off of us?”
“Uh, well…”
“Well, don’t worry. Some of us actually have useful powers.“
Whatever snarky remark Johnny was going to come up with is cut off as Peter gingerly removes his hand from over his eyes. But just as promised, he keeps them closed. With shaking fingers, Peter pulls his mask back on.
“Open up, flamebrain,” Peter orders. “Help me find the way out of here that has the least likelihood of crushing us both to death.”
It’s long, it’s grueling, and far too many close calls for Peter’s liking. But with a few solid lifts from him, they’re able to crawl back up to street level. Thankfully, the fight has moved further down the street. He doesn’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if Rhino had hit the building again…
Peter and Johnny share a look.
“Ready to kick some Russian ass?” Peter prompts.
“Dude, I don’t think you really understand that we have this global citizenship thing going so…”
“That’s for the best. You would’ve hated the Cold War.”
With that, Peter thwips to the nearest building and begins his pursuit. A ball of heat is right on his tail. Peter really doesn’t know when that became a comfort.
They find the battle a few blocks over. Sue is shaking with a rage Peter has never seen before, burying the Rhino in psionic force. Reed is hiding behind a taxi with a bleeding head wound. Ben is digging himself up out from under a semi truck.
He spots them first. “They’re back! They’re alive!”
Johnny gives him a salute as they zip past.
“Douse him in all you’ve got, then leave it to me,” Peter orders lowly, refilling his web canisters with practiced ease.
“Since when do you give me orders?” Johnny demands, but it lacks heat—is he teasing?
“Who just unburied you from a collapsing building?” Peter snarks right back. “Just do I say, flamebrain!”
Johnny rolls his eyes, but does as asked, flying around the Rhino’s head like a gnat and yelling stupid things like: “Ever heard of the Cold War, buddy? Well, I’m about to start the Hot War!”
His eyes nearly roll straight from his skull with that one.
Peter swings over Sue’s head, shouting his plan. “Keep his arms down, don’t worry about the rest.”
He finds Reed next. “Wrap up his legs.”
Sticking onto the truck Ben has just extricated himself from, he glances down at him. “Think if I get him down, you can keep him from head butting me off again?”
Ben crackles his knuckles—do rocks have knuckles?—and grins. “On it, bossman.”
Standing Peter turns his attention to the sky. “Johnny, playtimes over! Go get a snack for nap time!”
“Hey!” He shouts indignantly, but does as ordered and stops his flames.
Peter launches into the air as soon as Johnny is clear. He doesn’t have much of his webfluid left, so he was hoping to conserve it but… Whatever. End of the city, and whatnot.
Hitting a peak right over Rhino, Peter shoots one web into the ground on either side of him. Using gravity and his own might, Peter launches himself downward. The brute cracks face first into the pavement with a few Russian curses.
“Yeah, doesn’t feel so good, does it?” Peter mutters.
He launches back in the air, flinging webs as he goes. His webs blanket the Rhino’s hands, his feet, his head. Just as quickly, they begin to tear. But Peter isn’t alone. Each of the Four have performed perfectly, taking their respective places in holding him.
Driving himself down into the small of the Rhino’s back again, Peter pulls the autoinjector from his belt. Whatever Reed made it out of is pretty hardy stuff. Finding an exposed bit of skin, Peter presses it there, and clicks the very inducing red button.
Then, his entire spider-sense goes on overdrive. It’s almost enough to stun him. From the spot of the injection, something like a black hole is opening—and growing quickly. He’s going to get sucked in. There’s no way, even isn’t face enough—
“Spidey!” Johnny yells.
His senses sharpens to one place. Without even looking, Peter fires a web that way. The darkness is spreading, but he needs to stay here. Needs to wait. To hope. To trust.
Just as it’s about to consume him, that web Peter shot out pulls tight. He goes flying in a way he’s never gone before. As he goes, all he can do is stare at the place that Rhino is blinking out of existence. What a marvelous and utterly terrifying thing.
It comes as a complete shock when Peter hits something warm and solid. They hit the pavement and roll—but it’s gentler and more controlled than the other times today. When his back finds concrete, Peter lets out a sigh and falls limp.
Just as quickly, he sparks back to life. There’s heat above him, and around him, and consuming him. It’s familiar, but somehow new. Peter’s eyes fly open behind his mask and…
Johnny is over him, hands bracketing either side of Peter’s head. Currently, he’s looking over at the place Rhino just disappeared—and where his family no doubt still lingers. There’s something fierce in his expression. A set to his jaw that Peter doesn’t know how he’s missed, but from this angle it’s all he can pay attention to.
Blue eyes sweep to find him. “Are you okay?”
Honestly, Peter’s chest is feeling really tight again. Not quite like when they were buried, but something equally as terrifying. He moves to push Johnny off him, but the action ceases as soon as he touches his chest.
“You saved me,” Peter breathes out, deciding that’s answer enough.
Johnny looks up from where his eyes had locked on Peter’s hands on his chest. “Well. You took the brunt of me colliding with a building, and then extracted me from the rubble.”
“Call it even then?”
Johnny smiles sardonically. “Now, I don’t know about that…”
Something is warm and wet under Peter’s palm. He removes it, finding his glove redder and stickier than normal. Positioning it so that Johnny can see, he tilts his head.
“I dare say we both need medical attention,” Peter suggests, starting to feel his own aches and pains.
“To that, I concur,” Johnny agrees, but it takes him a moment to sit up and let Peter out from under him.
Peter doesn’t have the faintest idea why, but he thinks he would rather have stayed there too.
Notes:
I don't know if you can tell but my only real geographical knowledge of NYC comes from the Insomniac Spider-Man games, sorry. pls just nod and pretend I know what I'm talking about, thanks
thanks for reading, I appreciate you a ton <3
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