Secret War

Tom sets on his sofa, staring at the black TV screen. Chinese food on the table is not opened even they are cold.

He knows Peter will going to leave, he knows Peter isn't going to ignore that damn alien bomb.He knows it from the beginning.
There is a voice deep inside him that keeps reminding him, whispering to him that Peter Parker wouldn't stop being Spider-Man, even if he knew he would die for it one day. You know his prototype is the Peter of the Ultimate Universe, so you have to keep an eye on him, you need catch him and don't let him return to the MCU.

But he choose to ignores that voice. He compliments Peter for everything he does, whether it's stopping a heist or saving a cat, or inventing something new, even if it's just showing the way to passersby.
He sat beside the boy, he held the boy's hand, he held the boy's trembling body until the boy had a peaceful sleep.
He twisted the trick and tells Peter that he didn't need to take all the blame alone.
He tells the boy that he was priceless, something to be cherished.
He tells the boy that something happened through no fault of his own.

He'll be back, he'll back, he's with the Avengers, he'll be fine, he'll be safe. I've already stopped playing Spider-Man, I turned down that script so Peter Parker doesn't die.
He will not die.
But what if he gets hurt? What if he gets stuck alone? if he--
No, I can't, I should trust him, I trust him.
I believe

The crisp ringing of the phone interrupted Tom's thoughts, saving him from trying to suffocate himself.

The caller is Kevin Feige.
Tom ignores it, he isn't in the mood to do it. He turns the phone to vibrate mode, and finally to silent mode. But the other one is still indomitable to call one after another.

He sighs and presses the green circle.
"Hello Kevin."

"Hey Tom, we have a new proposal."

"Uh, Kevin. I don't want to——"

"We're not going to kill Spider-Man! Are you interested now?"
The producer's voice comes impatiently from the receiver.

Tom is silent for a while. "Tell me about it."

"Okay, we discussed it with Sony and came up with a new idea. If you insist, instead of dying, Peter Parker loses his spider powers and gives the Spider-Man title to Miles. What do you think? How's the idea?"

Tom narrows his eyes.
"Can you tell me how he lost his spider powers?"

"We don't have a plan for that," Kevin said. "We wanted to hear from you first. All we wanted to do was get the Spider-Man trilogy done, and we had to give the story a finish. At least let it come to an end. The Spider-Man story can't just stop there."

His story would never stop. I won't let it stop.
But Tom didn't say a word, he just takes a deep breath.

"Think about it, Tom. Spider-Man fans and yours have been fighting on internet for weeks, and we have to respond to them. You can't just walk away."

After a moment of silence Tom replied, "I will, I...give me some time, Kevin."

Making Peter lose his spider powers...not a good idea.
But it could make Peter alive.
But that's really not a good idea.

No. I have to think of other ways, there must be other ways.
Tom throws his phone aside and starring anxiously at the empty room, desperately hoping that Peter would jumping out of the air with a pop in the next second.

Just like Peter did when they first met.

Peter is sitting on the roof of a building.
Tonight was a peaceful night, no robbery or runaway cars. He wandered the streets for five full hours with nothing to do. The criminals in New York seem to have noticed that the young vigilante has been in a bad mood lately, and they all decided to keep a low profile.

Peter took off his mask and let the familiar New York wind blow across his face. It's not intense, but rather gentle, like a grateful touch.
Peter looked at the lights of the cars on the road and the thousands of windows lit up in the city, and realized that after the war New York was getting its old beauty and vitality back, and these lights, these lights—they became glittering Bright streams and fireflies flying in the dark night.

When Peter realized he was crying, he tried to wipe away the tears that didn't seem to stop.
Never again, never again.
stop, stop. Stop your thinking.
Peter told himself desperately in his head.
Don't think it, do not think, do not think. Don't let May worry.

Just think about Ned, what are our favorite things?——Star Wars, yes. Just think about the Star Wars plot, my favorite movie, The Empire Strikes Back - Skywalker - Death Star - War.
His stomach began to throb.

No, no, no, not a good idea.
Peter fought the urge to vomit, and his body started shaking nervously. The edge of the roof cracked under his grip, and sweat wet his hair and skin.

Just think of something else, ok, some happy thing. What do kids like, lollipops, toys, Disney? Yes yes Disney is great, Disney is great, they always do great animation, think about Elsa, think about Moana, Cinderella, Ariel. They are all beautiful, they are strong, they can sing when they are sad, maybe I should sing, I should sing too.

Singing is a good idea, right? he asked them.
They all nodded in agreement.

OK, OK, OK.
Peter coughed, ignoring the bitter, sour taste in his throat.

He started singing.

"Al, all——"
"All those days, watching, from, the windows."
His voice was low and his words slurred. Only he can hear it.
"All those years, ou-outside, look, in."
"All! that time! Never even knowing——"
He let out a breath.
"Just, how—blind I've been."
The lights in front of him began to dim again, but he continued to sing.
"Now—I'm here, b-blinking in the star-light."

When Peter finished singing the song, he realized that he had stopped crying.
He found himself lying down at some point, looking at the sky.

The sky in New York is clear, the pollution on this planet has dropped dramatically since half of the population disappeared, and even in New York five years later, beautiful stars can be seen.
Right now, this starry sky hangs high above New York. Different shades of purple and blue are mixed and intertwined, and countless white spots are like sprinkles of icing sugar and ice dross.

   Look.

Then Peter noticed something had fallen out of the starry sky that seemed to last forever.

Its speed can be said to be slow, like a feather, swaying and falling towards the block in an elegant manner. After figuring out its final landing spot, Peter shoots the web, swings a few times, then waits for that thing on another roof.

At first all Peter saw was a little purple light. However, as the distance shortened, his enhanced vision made him realize that it is a lilac transparent fragment.

A star fall.

Am I dreaming? He thought blankly.

His spider sense didn't give any warning, and he also couldn't help but stretch out his left hand to catch the star.

Then the world changed.

There was no prompt or strange feeling, the lights of the night and New York disappeared, the sound of vehicles and whistles were intercepted on the way, and the cluttered smell in the alley became the aroma of apples.
The soft rays of the sun fell on the floor, turning some of the beige tiles a warm yellow, and the refrigerator hummed quietly beside it. The green leaves outside the window and the humidity in the air herald the arrival of spring.

Peter Parker came to an unfamiliar room.

The boy blinked, glanced at the neat and spacious kitchen in front of him, and pinched his face again to see if it was a dream.
Then he heard a crisp "click" sound.

He turned and saw another of himself holding a bitten apple, chewing slowly and hard.

"I must be dreaming," Peter muttered.

The other Peter Parker didn't answer immediately, but continued to chew the apple in his mouth until he swallowed it.
"Actually, they are my words ."

Peter Parker’s face changes times and stop at a puzzled look, his mind racing.
"So I met another me, like things in the comics," Peter said. "Have you been bitten by a spider too?"

The other Peter Parker froze for a moment, his face full of confusion.

"Okay, so you didn't get bitten by a spider, I see." Peter nodded, his eyes started scanning the room, noticing those beautiful decor and furniture. God, this Peter Parker is clearly richer than him.
He didn't notice that the other self had gone from confusion to shock.

"You're... Peter Parker." He heard the other stammer himself.

"Yeah, since we look the same, I think we should have the same name." Peter raised his eyebrows and nodded.

"Uh, Well, to be honest, ——my name is Tom," Tom said softly.

"Tom Parker?"

"Tom, Holland." The older man emphasized his last name.

"OK. What?!!!" Peter called out after a second pause. "Holland?!"

"I knew I was dreaming!" shouted another, throwing away his apple. "Otherwise, how could I meet Spider-Man!"

"I don't know if I'm dreaming now!" Peter shouted, waving his hands.
Then he pinched the man's arm.

"Ouch! Alright! I'm sure I'm awake!" Tom Holland frowned, covering his arms.

"So you're not me." Thanks for his brilliant mind ,Peter calmed down quickly, though not completely, Cause he pinched his arm. "You're, uh, someone else who just happens to look exactly like me. There's nothing between us."

"In fact , I'm your actor." Tom kept scanning Peter's body back and forth. "I'm an actor."

"——Excuse me?" The boy frowned deeply, he vaguely understood something. "Wait, wait wait. Tell me it’s not what I thought.”

Tom took a deep breath. "Yes, I'm playing Spider-Man, and you're a movie character to us."

Long silence.

"Oh my god." Peter finally grabbed his face. "Oh my god, It's crazy that the multiverse is real, but meeting my actors? ——It's even crazier."

"Yes, I agree." Another said in almost the same tone as he. "I can't believe my Spider-Man is... real."
Tom took a deep breath, After several facial expressions he trying to calm his pounding heartbeat.
Unfortunately Spider-Man has noticed this.

"Are you all right?" Peter asked. "Your heart is beating so fast, um, would you like to sit down and have a glass of water or something?"

"I, I'm fine! Just so excited! !That's how everyone reacts when they meet the coolest superheroes!!!"

Super hero.
Super hero.
Super hero.
Super hero.

The words swirled in his head like ghostly whispers.
Peter's breathing definitely stopped.

"I'm-not." Speaking is very difficult.

"Of course you are!!!You're the most popular one!!!People love you!! Your toys are the best seller! No hero is as popular as you are!!" Tom shouted excitedly, looking desperate to grab the boy in front of him.

"I’m not.”
——This sound is too low, too small. Like the scream of an ant falling into the sea.

"You can walk on walls, lift a building, and have super cool spider senses!! You took down so many villains all by yourself and fought in Infinity War! You almost knocked Thanos down, you are"

"I'm not a hero!!!!!!!!"

The older man flinched at the reply.

Spider-Man interrupted him with a loudly cry of anger and pain, full with desperation. His eyes widening and looking at Tom angrily. "Tony is dead!!! I can't save him!! I got those stones and didn't protect them! I left it to someone else to deal with!! What kind of hero am I?! I didn't even rush up to Thanos to snatch the stones. I screwed up those alien weapons and put people on the ferry in danger. If it wasn't for Tony and they all died, ——how could I be called a hero?!!! I'm just an arrogant and reckless idiot who happened to get spider powers!!! I didn't become better, I didn't even use those stones to resurrect Tony, I’m a loser, I should be the one who make that snap!! I did nothing! Why do you call me a hero! !!!!!"

Peter's hands waved wildly in the air, hard to predict. He stomped his feet violently, and cobweb-like cracks appeared on the smooth tiles.

It seemed that the whole house is shaking with Peter's cry and movement. Tom opened his mouth but can say nothing, he forgot his breathing and his heart was pounding with shock. He thought for a moment and then cursed himself in chagrin that he hadn't noticed the tears on Spider-Man's face in the first place, and had forgotten what the boy had been through.
After a few movies, he was supposed to be the one who knew Peter Parker best, but he foolishly ripped open Peter's wound.
He stares hates himself.

He didn't immediately run over and hug the boy who was still screaming, because he knew how terrifying the strength of Spider-Man he was. All he doesn't need to do now is make Peter Parker more flustered and self-blame.

So he waited quietly until the boy crouched down and started crying quietly.

He waited another minute, then walked carefully towards Spider-Man, and deliberately making his own footsteps to make noises so that his arrival could be noticed by the other party.
His plan worked, Peter Parker looked up at the older man.

"Hey," Tom said in a soothing tone, slowly kneeling in front of the boy. "I,uh, Can I hug you? I, I want to hug you." He looked at the boy's crying, red eyes, feeling sad. "Let me hug you."

Peter looked at that guy quietly for a moment, then closed his eyes and nodded.
Then he was surrounded by a pair of solid arms.

This hug is firm, yet soft. It's tight, but not a cage. The man’s hands stayed on his back all the time, without any extra movement and no intention of leaving.
Peter doesn't know how long he's been in this hug, but it's enough to stabilize him. He could hear the heartbeat in the older man's chest and smell the shower gel on the man's body. The heat radiating from the guy’s body caused him to lean a little closer, resting his forehead on the other's shoulder.

A world without superheroes and supervillains. He thought in a daze. so good.

He fell asleep in Tom's arms.

"Peter?"
Tom said softly, almost murmured. Because his arms and knees are really sore after keep still in half hour.
Spider-Man responded with steady breathing.
All right.
He carefully picked up the boy and brought him to the sofa.

Seeing "myself" lying on my couch in a Spider-Man outfit is so weird. Part of Tom Holland is still yelling at him "Oh my God Spider-Man is in my house!", "My Spider-Man is in my house! I should take a photo!"
Tom looked at Peter's face, noticing the eye bags under his eyes, the tears and the thin face. He couldn't help reaching out to touch it, and realized that the boy wasn't exactly his own: Peter wasn't exactly 22 years old, but younger, without wrinkles. Then he remembered that Peter Parker wasn't even 17 years old yet.
A sting hit his chest.
Peter Parker is real.

Peter woke up when Tom was about to leave in order to get the quilt.
There was unease in his eyes, and his eyes swept across the room in a panic——until he saw the guy who looked just like him. Then he froze there.

"Um, are you feeling better?" Tom walked back and crouched down in front of Peter. "I was going to get you a quilt."
The boy nodded, staring at his hands to avoid looking at the other person. "Thank you. I'm fine."

"Would you like to get some more sleep? I, I have a spare bedroom! You can use my bedroom if you think it's too dusty! I live alone now so no one will coming! I promise I won't betray you!"

"No, I got enough sleep." Peter lied.

Tom froze for a moment, but didn't break the lie. He slowed down and tried to offer other help. "How about a glass of water then? I think you must be thirsty. Because you... um, I'm going to get you a towel."
The boy gave him a quick glance. Tom decided to take it as a "Yes."

The older man returned quickly from the kitchen and shoved a warm glass of water into Peter's hand. "I'll be back soon, just to find a new towel!"
Peter quietly watched the guy with the same face rush into the bathroom in a hurry.
This guy is really like me in some ways. he thinks.

It took Tom a few minutes to get out of the bathroom with a hot, damp towel in his hand. "I decided the water temperature from my experience, hopefully it's what you like. Well, let me know if it's too hot or too cold." He handed Peter the towel.

Peter wanted to cry again when the comfortable warm moisture covered his face.
Stop, stop. he said to himself. You've cried enough today, don't cry anymore.
He closed his eyes and wiped his face with a towel.
Then he feels someone sitting beside him.

"How are you feeling? Could it be too hot?"
No, it’s fine.
Peter just doesn't want to answer.

"So, how did you get here? My house?"
Peter's eyes widened at the familiar accent. He put down the towel and looked at his actor in surprise.
"You live in Queens too?"

"No, I live in London and you are in London now."
Still the familiar Queens accent.

Spider-Man opened his mouth wide, obviously not thinking that his actor is an Englishman.
"But your accent..."

"I learned it." Tom turned around and gave Peter a mischievous smile.

"Ah, Ok, well. Cool." Peter nodded blankly, clearly still in shock.

"Back to the question, how did you get here? Traveling across the universe is not a easy task." Tom stopped using his Queens accent. "Did Dr.Strange do it or did you guys build a large particle collider?"

"Super Particle Collider." Peter corrected. "I don't know much about magic. But I'm sure we didn't develop a collider."
"I was on patrol in New York. While I was resting on a roof I noticed something fell from the sky."

"what is that?"

"I don't know, man. I haven't seen anything like that. It looks like a purple crystal. I thought it is a star at first."

"A star?"

"Yeah, Star. I didn't feel any danger anyway, so I reached out and grabbed it," Peter continued, because he didn't want his actor to feel childish. "And then I came here."

"Sounds magical."

"...Yes." Peter agreed.
"I have to find a way to get back, or May will be worried."

"Ah, um. That's right."
Tom didn't know why his heart sank.
"And what about that purple crystal? I guess it must be the key to your return home."
"Yeah." Peter fumbled over himself, then stopped to stare at Tom, his brown eyes widening. "I have no pockets on me."
"Did you see it?"

Tom turned his head to the kitchen, then quickly turned back.
"No."

"You're kidding me."
Fear finally spread in Peter's mind, and he searched his clothes times.
Then there was an expression of extreme panic on his face.

"I fucking lost it!!!"

Ah, it turns out that Peter Parker swears too.

"No no no no!! Where did it go? Where did it go!!"
The boy jumped off the sofa and ran to the kitchen.
The possibility of crystals on the table and cooking table was very small, so he decided to lie on the ground and search carefully.

"Uh, wait. Pe—."
The rest of the words got stuck in Tom’s throat, because his attention had been completely drawn to another thing.
Tom Holland stared intently at Spider-Man's ass.

Spider ass.
he thought blankly. Looks much sexier than mine.

Spider-Man was still looking for his crystal on the floor, completely unaware of the other person's gaze.

Fuck, he's not even 17! What the hell are you thinking! Tom cursed himself. Take your eyes off the minors! You can watch your own ass! He pinched his thigh.
"I, I think you can put on a mask and let Karen help you find it?"

"Oh my god you're right! You're so smart Tom!!" Peter looked at Tom in surprise, then put down the couch in his right hand easily.
The latter expressed shock at the scene.

But even with the help of artificial intelligence, they still haven't found the crystal. In addition, Peter had to order Karen to delete her footage in this universe.

"Fuck, where is it lost?! I can't find it anywhere!!" Ten minutes later Peter grabbed his hair anxiously and sat down on his knees.

"Calm down Peter, we might as well try a vacuum cleaner——"

"Vacuums will not work! Karen has scanned your house ten times! Can your outdated vacuum find thing that even Karen can't see?!"

Tom was shocked again. He hadn't expected his Peter Parker to be so-tempered.
This Peter seems to be more, um, cat than the Peter in Ultimate Universe.

Then he heard whispers.

The boy in the Spider-Man suit curled up, his hands clutching his hair.
"No, no, stop. Don't think about them, don't think about them. I'm fine, I'm safe, I'm safe..."

"Peter?"
Tom realized something was wrong.

"I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe. I'll go home. I'll go home," the boy was still talking to himself. "Breathe, just breathe."

Then he stopped breathing.

Peter's eyes widened in horror, trying to get himself to inhale air, but he let out a harsh gasp or cough, feeling like his lungs were a tattered accordion.

Tom Holland watched in horror as the boy's chest stopped heaving.
"Peter? Peter? Spider-Man?" he tried. The brown-haired boy looked at him, struggling to utter a few syllables, but not enough for Tom to fully understand.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. what should I do? ! I've never learned how to deal with panic attacks, Spider-man looks like he's about to suffocate, what should I do? Artificial respiration? Call 999?
He hurried to the boy and made several gestures to get his brown eyes to look at him.

"Listen Peter! I don't care what are you thinking, but you don't seem to be able to breathe properly on your own right now!" Tom tried to control his own panic. "So I'm going to try to give you artificial respiration! Do you think it’ll working?!”

Peter nods.

"Ok cool! Please don't beat me Okay?"

Peter clearly knew this was a way to go, nodding in pain and closing his eyes.

Tom didn't know exactly how the artificial respiration worked, maybe because the goddamn spider bite had strengthened the boy. Anyway it worked, Peter Parker's chest began to rise and fall again, and air began to flow through his respiratory system again.
Anyway, thank goodness.

He took Peter's hand, making sure Peter can see his eyes.
"Relax, Peter. I'm here, you'll be fine."
He put Peter's right hand on his chest.
"You need to breathe slowly, slowly. Try to follow my rhythm, okay?" Tom took a slow breath.

Peter followed the instructions, The pain in his lungs gradually disappeared.
"Very good." Tom encouraged. "Let's do it again."

Tom took a breath and calmed himself after making sure Spider-Man's breathing was back to normal. Then he looked around and found that the room was dark at some point.
He glanced haggardly at his watch, 7:41PM.
Tom took a deep breath, again, his chaotic brain continuing to tell himself that today was definitely the proudest day of his life because he saved Peter Parker’s life.

He sighed, looking at the sluggish boy on the floor, trying his best to be gentle and even. His heart is hurt.

"Huh, Peter? I think we should all get some sleep. I've run out of energy to do anything else, and you must be in worse shape than I am. Don't deny it. You just nearly died and you need rest. The rest We'll talk about it tomorrow, okay? It's just one night, and I promise to bring you home."
Tom didn't wait for Peter's answer, but carried Peter directly into his bedroom.

Peter didn't struggling, which reassured Tom a lot, but his arms were so tired he nearly threw Peter on the bed.

Let’s call it a day.He told to himself.

"Uh, good night? Good night." He grabbed the quilt and covered Peter, then muttered and lay down on the other side of the bed, throwing himself into sleep.

He didn't hear the "Good night" from Peter Parker.