Love
Three dark-haired heads popped out of the alleyway down the street from the cafe, with the shortest on the bottom and the tallest on top. They instantly ducked back into the dark alley when a bystander walked by but then slowly, cautiously peeked over the edge of the wall again when the bystander vanished around a corner.
“I know we’re not supposed to be creepy, but we’re totally being creepy right now,” Peter-Three whispered conspiratorially to his shorter counterparts.
“I don’t understand why we couldn’t just eavesdrop from the roof,” Peter-One grumbled.
“We’re dressed as civilians, anyone who sees us is gonna think we’re trapped up there and call the fire department,” the eldest Peter whispered back as if it was obvious. Clearly this has happened to him on more than one occasion.
Peter-One’s eyes fixated on the two women having a discussion in the cafe. He could tell his MJ was uncomfortable -she always was around strangers- but Mary-Jane was on the charm offense, nodding along and smiling when appropriate. “Man,” he breathed, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I’m so nervous.”
“Why?” Peter-Two asked, pulling them both back into the alleyway by their sleeves. They instinctively huddled together with hunched shoulders and lowered voices. “Why are you nervous? MJ is great at small talk.”
“My MJ doesn’t like small talk though,” Peter-One whined.
Peter-Three shrugged. “Still a better option than any of us, we’re not exactly known for our good luck with the ladies.”
“Stop that,“ Peter-Two frowned at him.
“Shhhhhh, that’s not the point,“ Peter-One interrupted, looking between his elders. “I just… I don’t know, what if she doesn’t like me?”
The other two stared at him like he had grown a second head.
Peter-Three started to giggle but his older counterpart slapped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything. “Peter,” he stressed to his younger self, whispering as loudly as he could without bystanders overhearing them. “She’s been your girlfriend before, yes? Through thick and thin.”
Peter-Three shrugged off the other Peter’s hand, batting it away impatiently. “And you’ve dropped her on the top of a bridge and she didn’t immediately break up with you like any sane person would?”
Peter-One blinked, “Uh, well, when you put it that way-“
“Trust me,” Peter-Two said with that oddly serene tone of his, “She’ll like you.”
Peter-One swallowed thickly. “How do you know this’ll work? She could change her job, call the police, or just never want to talk to me again-“
“Peter.” Peter-Two placed both hands on the teenager’s shoulders to hold his attention. “I tried to leave MJ. I get your fears, I really do.”
Now it was his turn to get stared at by the other two.
Peter-Three seemed affronted by this whole concept. “Why the fuck, dude-“
Now it was Peter-One’s turn to elbow him and made a ‘lower your voice’ gesture with his hand. “Shhh. Tell us. What happened?”
Peter-Two shoved his hands in his coat pockets, probably to hide that he fidgets just as much as they do. “Well, um…You noticed we didn’t have any kids, right?”
The other two nodded in unison.
Peter-Two looked down at the ground, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. “After we got married, we tried for a while, but then we realized… We can’t.” He swallowed, looking up at them with guilt. “I can’t.”
It took a second for that to sink in.
The teenaged Peter’s eyes got saucer wide, while Peter-Three’s face looked genuinely horrified. “Damn, I’m sorry-“
“I don’t know if this applies to either of you, I really don’t,” Peter-Two responded quickly, trying to alleviate their growing panic, “I was affected by the bite differently, right? Everything is… you know, organic, biological, whatever with me. My organs have probably changed and moved around, I don’t really know, but the point is… I can’t seem to have kids.”
He took a deep breath to slow himself down. Sometimes the other two were a really bad influence on the way he talked. “I tried to leave her because… I thought maybe she’d be happier with someone else. Someone who could be at home with her every night, who could give her kids and be a dad that was, you know, normal. I didn’t want to hold her back-“
“-because you love her,” Peter-Three finished, giving him a strained smile of both approval and sympathy. We really are so similar.
“…Yeah.” Peter-Two shrugging helplessly as if he didn’t know how else to explain it. “I loved her so much that I let her go, even though… it killed me on the inside.” He squeezed his eyes shut, clearly fighting overwhelming emotions at the memory.
Peter-One was suddenly aware of where this story was going. “She came back though, didn’t she?” he whispered. He didn’t dare to hope that might happen to him, but the three of them have learned that the universe works in mysterious, parallel ways.
“Sure did,” his older self admitted, “She even found the exact roof I was brooding on and got the FDNY to put her up there with a ladder. And she was furious. We had a huge fight about it, and in the end, she told me never to pull that stunt again. With a few… interesting curses in there that I won’t repeat.” He gave an embarrassed smile at his other two companions. “Point is, Peter Parkers are not meant to run away from MJs. Some people are just-“ he shrugged, “-meant to be together.”
Peter-Three stiffened and crossed his arm defensively. “Maybe for you two.”
“Why not you?” Peter-Two didn’t miss a beat, facing him with a calm, neutral expression, “Because you ‘don’t have time for it’? Or because of Gwen?”
The taller of the two stared at him, simultaneously hurt and outraged, and the frightening thought occurred to Peter-One that his elders may come to blows over something he didn’t quite understand. But something silent passed between the others and the taller Peter looked away, unnerved. For once, he didn’t seem to have a snarky response.
“If you like someone, you make time,” the younger Peter added, carefully, keeping his voice light and chipper.
“Sure, but I don’t have an MJ, so-” Peter-Three grumbled.
“Maybe you do,” Peter-Two’s eyes were twinkling, “It’s a big world. Well, multiple… worlds, I guess.”
“Maybe you haven’t found her yet,” Peter-One agreed, nodding, “-or him. You know, maybe a guy, because MJ is sort of a vague nickname anyway and I’m not judging-“
“Peter, stop,” Peter-Two sighed.
“I’m just saying! We’d support you either way. Or you know, neither way. Whatever floats your boat.”
Peter-Three rolled his eyes, blushing. “I’m not having this discussion with you guys-“
“Who else would you have it with?” both other Peters asked at the same time, then glanced at each other and chuckled.
Peter-Three sulked and his older self took pity on him, patting him lightly on the nape of his burning neck. “All we’re saying is, if you ever find someone new, maybe… be open to it instead of turning and running the other way. I know that’s what you do. I’ve done that. And look where it landed me.”
“Married and whipped?” Peter-Three quipped, then dodged a lightning-fast swat to the head, laughing as he did so. “No no, point taken. I’ll…” he took a deep, shaky breath, “I’ll keep that in mind. For the future.”
“Got it!” Mary-Jane’s cheerful voice broke through their little huddle. They turned to see her standing on the street, holding up a piece of paper triumphantly. She glanced around for any witnesses and then stepped into the alleyway, carefully stepping over debris and what looked suspiciously like a dead rat. “Ugh, I don’t know how you guys do this every night. These alleyways are disgusting.”
Peter-Three nudged Peter-Two with a knowing smirk. “What’s that, MJ?”
“Michelle-Jones’ new number,” MJ said, handing the paper to the startled teenaged Peter with flourish, “for my ‘nephew’.”
Peter-Two frowned. “Wait, doesn’t that make me-“
Peter-One gawked at her. “But I told her my aunt died.”
“Well, I’m aunt Mary from the other side of the family, who is from very, very out-of-town. I had to pretend not to know how to use the subways.” MJ smooched her pouting husband and patted his cheek. “Relaaax. At least I didn’t say you were his dad.”
“What else did you say?” Peter-One asked with worry.
“That you were thinking of applying to MIT in the future and could use some pointers. Nothing creepy, promise,” Mary-Jane continued, laying her head on her husband’s shoulder contently as he wrapped an arm comfortably around her waist. “Just… new friend stuff.”
“New friend stuff,” Peter-Two echoed, clearly proud of his wife. He looked at the youngest Peter. “You’ve made friends with her before, you can do it again.”
Peter-Three wrapped an arm cheerfully around the shorter man’s shoulders. “Congrats, buddy, It’s a fresh start!” His expression fell. “Why the long face?”
The youngest Peter looked down at the number, his fingers shaking. It was scrawled in Michelle-Jones’ familiar, chicken-scratch handwriting (for an artist, she sure struggled to write neatly). He shook his head in disbelief. A new start, a second beginning. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” The words tumbled out before he could stop himself and he cringed, immediately sensing that the three adults were looking at him with those sad eyes of pity again.
Peter-Three squeezed him. “Hey. Only one of us can be a depressed mess and I call dibs. Besides, you saved us -and some other people, I guess, but we’re the most important- in more ways than one.”
“And you sent them home,” added Mary-Jane. “I don’t know what I would have done if Peter vanished forever.”
Peter-Two tilted his head at him, smiling in that uniquely serene way of his. “It’s what we do, Peter.”
Those words again, their unofficial mantra. Peter-One felt all warm inside every time he heard it. “Thank you,” he said, meaning every word, “Really. I’ll… I’ll call her in a few days. I need some time to work up the courage.” He tucked the paper carefully into his jacket. “Last time didn’t seem… this scary.”
“Your MJ is pretty scary,” Peter-Three agreed, holding up a finger, “Come to think of it, she threw bread at me when we first met.”
The other two Peters stared at him while Mary-Jane pulled her lips tight, nodding as if she approved.
Peter-Two put his free hand to his chin, looking thoughtful. “That would explain all the scattered food when I stepped through…”
“But why?” Peter-One gaped. He couldn’t imagine it. His MJ had her weird moments but she never threw food at him.
“Something something about testing my tingle. That girl has some serious trust issues,” Peter-Three laughed, pulling him down the alleyway and out of the street. “C’mon, tell you the whole story over pizza. I’m starving.”
“Thank you. I got green water on my boots and it’s never coming off,” Mary-Jane sighed as she slid her hand in with her husband’s and was pulled along with the group.
“We’ll go shopping for new boots,” her husband offered without missing a beat.
“You have him so well-trained,” Peter-Three laughed, and his elder successfully punched him in the shoulder this time.
Peter-One was jostled between them, but he couldn’t help grinning. For the first time in months, there was a bounce to his steps. Everything was different now. There was no going back to a world where he could patrol his neighborhood one night but also slide over to Stark Industries for new gear the next day. There would be no casually popping-by-the-Avengers-tower to say hi to Thor (where is he now, anyways?) and the older Avengers. There’d also be… no Aunt May waiting for him at home.
But, somehow, despite all the odds, he had found the family he never knew he was missing.
He wondered faintly if there was anything to be done about Dr Strange. None of them had any leverage on him, and the other Spidermen didn’t know him as anyone other than that scary, angry wizard who sent them back home. And yet… Strange didn’t seem that opposed to people just waltzing into the Sanctum, as long as he could sense -in his secretive, magical way- that they weren’t a threat.
What do old people like, anyways? Peter-One mused, They get all fancy and bring gifts, right? Like, wine or…
“Hey,” he said, stopping in his track and causing the other three to look back on him. “Can we get pizza on Bleeker Street?”
---FIN---