Otto couldn’t do anything but stand by as the boy disappeared, running away from the wizard to stop him from using the magic box.
“Well, would you look at that,” the electrician said. Max, Connors had said his name was. Albeit, the Connors from Max’s universe. Otto was quite certain that if the Curt Connors he knew had turned himself into a lizard, he’d be the first to know.
Otto wasn’t sure whether he should despair that this was what his life had come to. Wizards, magic, multidimensional travel… He was a scientist, and he found it hard to get used to the concepts of those things existing. It changed everything. If magic was real, then there were so many ways in which it could aids science. So many ways to achieve what was simply impossible before. Not that this man – Strange, an apt name for such a being – would be amenable to trying any of them. Hell, Strange seemed hardly to want to interact with the otherworldly visitors. If Otto was in his position, he would want to know everything about the alternative universes he had – in this case clearly not on purpose – drawn to his own. Then again, he could understand and perhaps even respect Strange’s choice not to engage. It was very possible that the safety of the entire fabric of reality depended on it. Otto did not have such knowledge, but it might very well be that the wizard had.
If there was any true danger, however, Peter not the teenagers seemed to have no qualms to squander with the possibility of causing a travesty. The boy interacted freely with them – so freely that Otto almost wondered how he could rhyme this man with the quiet college student he knew his Peter to be. Soft-spoken, shy, and even a bit awkward. Otto had found that although this boy hid his awkwardness, it was still there. While this younger Parker buzzed with energy, he spoke rapidly and often unthinkingly, not properly ordering his thoughts and talking over himself to hide perceived faults. It was unendingly interesting how two people – arguably the same person – could be so different, and yet so similar.
“We could help your friend, you know?” Connors said, addressing the two teenagers. The boy stepped back a little, seemingly intimidating by Connors’s admittedly large frame. The girl held her own, but her eyes flitted nervously between the various visitors. “You just have to let us out.”
“I wouldn’t know how to do that,” the girl – MJ – said. “Even if I wanted to.”
“Which you don’t,” the electrician said.
“Would you let yourself out?” Otto asked, spitting the words into the other man’s direction. The teenagers must know that Connors would not follow up on his promise, and that all men held here had been viewed as antagonists by the Peters from their respective universes. They would be mad if they released them. And yet, Otto could not help eyeing the button that Strange had used to release Peter from his prison when he had trapped him to exemplify the workings of his magical bracelet.
“The answer to that is yes, obviously,” Max said, rolling his eyes.
“I don’t care about getting out,” Marko said, “I just want to get home.”
The lamps in the room flickered as Max spoke again. “Well, for some of us that might mean death. Not too keen on that.”
Otto attempted to focus his thoughts, organise them to form a plan. What did he want, what did they want? They needed to get to their machine, naturally. They needed to finish what they started. He did not need all these extra people for that – they were unknown variables, and they were clearly unstable. Marko was not going to be any help, and the others weren’t even from his universe. He needed to get back home, and he needed not to die. He needed the boy for that. The boy and his magic box. And he was a variable too. Even though Otto could see his Peter in the boy, they weren’t the same, and he didn’t understand why this Peter had chosen to fight in this instant. He didn’t understand what his ploy was. What did he need from them, other than to send them back where they belonged? No, he should not focus on Peters. As soon as the magic box was in reach, they could use it to get back. Everything else was a distraction.
“Peter is not going to let you die,” MJ said, her voice unwavering.
“Yeah,” the boy said, sounding equally sure of himself. “You knew Peter in your universe too, right? Would he ever have let you die?”
Otto’s mind filled with bitter fury. “If Marko is to be believed, he already did.”
“After you tried to kill him, probably,” the girl said without skipping a beat.
And she had him there. He had tried to kill Mary Jane, he had tried to hurt Peter. Not merely to hurt him, he had to admit to himself. He had wanted to kill him. They had wanted to kill him. He shook his head, trying to get his mind in order. Why had he done that? Peter had been trying to stop him, that was for certain. But why couldn’t he have convinced him with words? Why couldn’t they have talked. They were both adults, and surely Peter would have seen the light, given time.
Time that you didn’t have. The machine is what is most important. Don’t lose sight of that.
No, of course he wouldn’t. His work was what mattered. If his own Peter, the Peter who had said at his dinner table and talked about poetry, had tried to end his life, there was no reason why this Peter wouldn’t end up just as ruthless. No more––
A portal appeared in the middle of the room, and Spider-Man – Peter Parker – stepped out of it, breathlessly regaling how he had fought Strange and had trapped him.
“You could have just left us to die,” Otto said, voicing the doubt his mind was filled with. “Why didn’t you?”
Peter opened his mouth to answer, but the girl was quicker, fixing her gaze on him. Almost unforgiving, like her otherworldly counterpart. “Because that’s not who he is.”
Otto wanted to fight her simple platitude. They disagreed, surely. Instead, he let himself be comforted by the idea, even if it was just for a moment.