Chapter Text
I.
The others were all screaming at Miles to do things that took loads of practice, and Peter just sat there in stunned silence.
He'd been aware, for a while now, about how terrible of mentors he'd had in the past, and he realized with a pang that these guys had always been on their own and had never had a mentor to rely on.
But it was when he stumbled and the others began to walk away that he hit his breaking point.
"The hell?" He screamed. The others, who had started to huddle, all glanced up at One, who was perched above the black and blue suit. "You think that you're, what, encouraging him? Toxic mentorship, is what that was."
Gwen scoffs. "That's not even a real thing."
One is so offended that he stomps off the glass case and points right at all of them.
"I know we didn't get much time to tell our stories, but did I ever mention the time I had to lift ten tons, all because my mentor didn't trust me?"
He never had mentioned that to anyone, but his heart twisted and the words came before he could stop them. Damn safe spider-sense.
One clears his throat awkwardly. "I... uhm... didn't mean to say that, but it doesn't mean I'm wrong. Would any of you like to look me in the eye and say that you were fighting Ock and the Kingpin days after you got your powers? You really think you'd've been able to do it? Hell, if my bite went anything like all of yours, you'd know that it takes months for some of the powers to kick in. And yeah, I don't know if he could handle this fight on his own, but I'm not going to sit here and let you scream your insecurities at him! And if it matters that much to you, I'll do it! You've all got actual people back home, but as far as my world is concerned, I popped into existence with no relatives at the age of 17."
Miles had already fled.
II.
"Turn invisible, on command, so you can get past me."
Peter and Noir touched down beside each other, each sliding their masks halfway for a breather.
"It's not fair," Peter muttered.
"What?" Noir asked.
Peter huffed a little. "Beter was sticking to Miles's suit. He wanted the kid to use the only powers he didn't understand. If Miles had tried to use his super-strength, Beter wouldn't have budged."
Noir sighs. "Nothin' we can do about it now."
"You know how much self-doubt he's going to have? He's going to push himself all the time until he can do everything you guys wanted him to. And you ain't even going to stick around to see what it does to him in the long run."
"What do you know 'bout it?" Noir asks.
"My old mentor," Peter sighs after a moment. "Seemed amazing at the time. Looking back, he just wanted... he just wanted to prove he was responsible enough to be a mentor. And he wasn't but he tried so hard to make amends, man. It's not exaggerating to say that he died to save the entire universe. And I get it, you all want to keep it away from him but also want to prepare it, but we're going about it wrong. We didn't warn him about the sensory overloads and the days where you starve because everything tastes like soap."
Noir nods. "He'll get out of those webs at some point. He came back last time. We just gotta be patient."
III.
The cleanup after the fight at May's was messy.
Miles was gone.
"I heard a gunshot," One finally manages. "And I don't like what that means."
"He's not ready," Gwen mutters.
One had been done with this for a long time, now. And he lashed out, it failed, so now was time for a different approach. "You're right," he says. "He's not ready. Are we ready to die, either? It's loose-loose, but this 'verse needs a Spider-Man, and if we don't do what we can, once we're gone, he might not ever be ready. For us, Spider-Man was an outlet. For him, it's just another new expectation for a kid who just became a teenager. I can tell you all were older when you started, but I got these powers a few weeks after my 14th birthday. And I don't care if you listen to me anymore, because you're clearly not, but B, take a second and remember all the times you thought your Aunt May was using her age against you."
IV.
"Hey, One?" B asked, tentative, like he was afraid of Peter One.
"Yeah?" One asks, dangling from the roof of the shed.
"You uhm," Gwen chimes, anxiously, and they've clearly been discussing it, "you're story seemed a lot... more than you had the time to share."
One laughs, a little, because that was an understatement. "It's normal in my 'verse, 's the thing. We just... accepted our lives are weird. Ain't nothin' we can do about it now."
(His accent comes out more when he's tired.)
"We're fine if you want to tell us," Peni mutters."Toxic mentorship was a term I remember being thrown around."
One takes a deep breath. He hates talking about it, but at the same time being around the other spiders makes him feel inexplicably safe. "I was just a guy in a hoodie and a blue ski-mask when I started. Had some goggles that mimicked my facial expressions and my web-shooters, but that was about it. At the time some shit was going down, I never really got the chance to ask, and the Avengers kind of... broke up. Stark knew it'd turn into a fight and had brought me just in case. Gave me a suit with every upgrade under the sun, and then disabled everything besides the eyes, even things that could save my life. Me and my best friend hacked into it, obviously, and god did that make him upset. He took the suit away, told me that I didn't deserve it, because I mistook a bunch of FBI guys holding guns for the arms dealers I'd been tracking. And then... uhm, Adrian Toomes, most of us know him, right? Nice guy, real charming, pulled a gun on me Homecoming night after he cracked my identity. I tracked him after that to an empty warehouse, fought him in my makeshift suit, sweating my ass off because it was a hoodie from a thrift store. He dropped the damned building on me and ran. And I didn't have anyone to call. Stark apologized down the line, and since I was still a bubbly 15-year-old, I listened. Let him think he was being a good mentor for a bit. Now he's dead. And my dumbass brain, for a little, thought that he'd actually been someone important enough to cry over. After... after my first run-in with the multiverse, I'd already met two versions of myself who were a lot better off than me, and they'd done it my their goddamn selves. Put some shit into perspective. Doesn't really matter now, does it? 'S not like I have anyone left to cry at my funeral."
V.
"C'mon, One, they're the best burgers left in my 'verse!"
Peter One, had, in fact, tried B's favorite burgers in his 'verse, and couldn't admit that it tasted like chemicals to him, and the place was lousy with a lot of things when it came to germs in their food.
"And I'm saying, I don't like them!"
"We're the same people, how do you not like them?" Three asked with a scoff.
"Three," One said, rounding on his brother with a concealed smirk. "Does this place exist in your universe?"
Three paused for a moment, and then shook his head. Hell yes.
One rolled his mask up halfway, and tried to explain their enhanced senses in a way that wouldn't be weird.
"So you can... taste chemicals?" Miles asked.
"Yes, and those burgers taste like fucking Febreze!" One hissed.
There was a pregnant pause.
"I envy you," Three said, patting him on the back.
One rolled his mask back down. "Bright side," One says brightly, "is that I can tell every time B lies about going to the gym. You're not slick."
Miles snorts and then flickers a little in embarrassment.
"I've been trying to get my Matt to show me how he does it," B grumbles, "and he finds it funny."
One's not sure if he's talking about the senses or not.
VII.
Peter B eventually gets the chance for a one-on-one conversation with Two, the only other member of their group treated like an adult. Three has too much energy to be considered an adult, and Ham is... Ham.
"How did you do it?" B asks tentatively.
Two arks an eyebrow. "Care to be more specific?"
B sighs, resigning himself to this conversation. "How... how did you balance everything?"
Two stares at the rising sun for a moment before he speaks. "You have a lot of the same history as two, you know. You act like you don't. Starting out with the Lizard, then Electro, and then... Harry."
The name is like a knife to his thigh, making him recoil slightly.
"And, if my eyes haven't deceived me, Gwen."
B scoffs, but he knows Two's already somehow got him figured out. "There wasn't a Gwen in my world."
"Then why do you try to avoid this new one?"
There's no heat in Two's words, no emotion at all, really. It feels almost like a statement.
"There's a Gwen in my world. She's still alive. She... she's a bit of a bitch, I'll say it straight. Not as nice as Spider-Woman, and probably not like yours or Three's. But... during my multiverse escapade, I came across my Norman Osborn. He'd died, for me, 20 years ago. But for him, we'd been in the middle of our final fight, and then he'd been in One's universe."
B tilts his head. "What happened there?"
"I'm not going to let this conversation change yet, sir."
B looks at this reflection of himself, the man who's Spider-Man, faced the same things as Spider-Man, but had managed to make it work, unlike B. He can't tell whether he's jealous or curious.
"Me and Mary have been on and off since highschool. She didn't want Spider-Man." Two pauses after that, takes a second to consider, clears his throat, and continues. "Back around the time my Ock became a villain, I was struggling with my emotions, just like you are, and unlike you, my powers completely shut off. I'd keep falling off walls and my webs stopped coming out of my wrists. And then, right as me and MJ were either making it or breaking it, I'm sitting there and my glasses suddenly get all foggy, and I realize that the world is slow and oh shit, that's my spider-sense. And then, my powers just came back, and I was shoving her out of the way right as a damned car flies through the cafe window. But then it's all gone, Ock's standing there, asking Peter Parker to find Spider-Man and tip him off, and I'm in one of his metal arms but no matter how much I flex they won't snap. And it... yeah."
"I feel like you're about to transition that trauma-dump into a metaphor," B leads cautiously.
Two huffs. "That... that was the plan, yeah."
"We're just a bunch of ramblers, huh?"
"Multiversal constant."
B sighs. "You're up, Mr. Spider-Man."
Two laughs a little, then straightens. "Before I got stuck in the moment, I was going to say what happened as my powers were returning. I told MJ I didn't love her, tried to convince myself I meant it, and then she said that we had to kiss one last time, because that woman just knew I didn't mean it. And maybe... maybe your MJ still wants you back. She just wants to see you realize why you split. Or... maybe it's something else, I don't know your universe. I just know Peter Parker, and deep down, I knew what was shutting off my powers, and what I could do if I wanted them back that bad."
B rolls his words around in his head a bit before smirking. "Was this a fake story, by any chance? I mean, the powers part of it."
Two shrugs. "'Guess you'll never know."
And, inexplicably, he's said the right thing without saying anything at all.
VIII.
One's verse was... well, it wasn't dull, maybe rigid was the right word. Possibly. Most of the worlds were colorful and smoothed, with the exception being Gwen and her jagged edges, but his, accompanied by his brothers Two and Three, had a certain aura to it.
It took a while, to Miles's surprise, to find One, even though the guy had promised they'd be doing some mentor stuff while B sorted out his life.
When he did find One, the guy waved without a word, and lead him into a boxing gym called Fogwell's.
"So," One finally spoke, wrapping his hands. "I've got a guy. He's got a key to this place. We're going to fight in the ring. I'm going to show you a few tricks. We are not going to turn on the lights. We clear?"
Miles shuffled uncomfortably. "Sure?"
One clicked his mouth to signal his smirk.
He let them into a boxing ring and then spent the next five minutes correcting Miles's stance, which would have been easier if they could see, but one was insistent.
"My mentor," One said conversationally, "says that sight is a distraction. He's a weird guy, but he ain't that far off. So, Miles, you're going to have to rely on things other than your sight, because there's always a chance someone will catch you off guard when you don't have it. Three rules. No hits that will sting for a while, say if you need a breather, and most importantly, don't let your head leave this room."
Miles nodded slightly.
One moved... something. "Could you hear that?" He asked Miles.
"No?"
One exhaled. "Listen to my shoulder. How the muscles tense and untense. The bones grinding."
One did the same movement, and with his small instruction, he was already able to identify that it was a sloppy mock-punch.
"You're swinging your fist," Miles stated.
"Good. Listen to my heartbeat now. Keep it in focus. Before I swing, it's going to flutter, and then you'll here my bones grind, and then your Spider-Sense will ping, and you have to combine all of that into a dodge or block."
Miles listens.
One knows some shit.
IX.
"Three, you alright?" Noir asks, sitting further from the edge of the Empire State, but still ready to catch Three if he falls, even if the man can definitely catch himself.
"I... I sent someone to the hospital today. I was doing so good, Noir. I was being the Friendly Neighborhood Spidey again. And I still fucked that up."
Noir sighs. "You did better than me."
Three shrugs. "It's the great depression in your 'verse. You're allowed to be a fighter."
Noir shakes his head. "You know about One's vulture, right?"
Three shrugs. "Heard of 'im. One's not exactly too open, why?"
"My uncle didn't die in a mugging."
The words hang ominously in the air for a moment before Noir tugs his mask off.
He's a younger mirror of B, except his face is still monochromatic, and he's still 21.
"Toomes ate him alive."
There's a haunted look in his eyes, like he's having flashbacks.
"Nobody knew who did it except for The Spider. Not even my Aunt. She doesn't know about... all this. I think she'd make me move back in if I went within a mile of a weapon. Anyways. I... I shot the Vulture. Three times. Right in front of her. I was in my costume. I just... couldn't think. I didn't want to kill him. I don't want to kill anyone."
Three shudders. "I don't know what to say."
Noir shrugs. "Nice to say it out loud. It's... it's nice to be Peter Parker every once in a while."
"And you knew that if I felt bad for you I wouldn't feel bad for myself."
"Bingo."
X.
Everyone's finally out of school for the summer or on a day off, so they all gathered in Miles's universe to celebrate.
What this means is a pile of burgers from 4 different versions of Delmar's, and a kind side pile for Gwen and Miles, who don't particularly care for Delmar's.
Noir leaves his hat on, but for the first time since they've met him, he leaves his mask off. He's nothing special, and nobody really cares.
"Point blank, most embarrassing thing a villain's ever done," Miles says.
B smirks. "One time I got sick of Ock so instead of fighting him, I waited for the paparazzi and webbed his pants down."
One and Two both choke on their bite of burger.
"There was a big controversy in my dimension," One offers tentatively. "Not about me."
"Which Avenger blew something up this time?" B sighs.
One begins to giggle. "Everyone was upset, because they thought a big loss could have been avoided if Ant-Man had gone up the villains butt and... grown in size."
"I hate that," Gwen declares. "Y'all's Avengers are weird."
"Your Captain America is a black woman! How the hell did your 'verse even manage that?" Noir retorts.
Gwen can only shrug. "I know her clone better."
"Clone?" Several voices repeat incredulously.
"Y'know, Sam 13. Falcon."
One begins to cackle.
"While we're at it," Ham offers, "Flint Marko definitely has the hots for Electro."
"Ew," Three says instantly.
"No, Ham's right," One says. "He was checking out his dick when Max's body first reformed."
"I'm done," Miles declares.
XI.
Miles calls in Three and Noir for backup when his Green Goblin finally reappears.
He gets Noir, which is better than nothing, but Three is the only available counterpart who's fought an Osborn.
They find him when the fight his over, staring out at the city from the top of the Empire State in his home dimension.
"I don't get it," Three says. "How- how do you keep fighting them, without messing up?"
"What happened, Three?" Noir asks, taking a seat a few feet behind him.
"My Gwen."
Miles stops his shuffling instantly.
"We'd just stopped Max. Then Harry comes in. He'd attempted to cure a disease in his family with the Os serum, the stuff that gave me my powers. It made ihm insane. He- he dropped my Gwen down a clocktower. I tried to save her. Her neck snapped when the web stretched and then her head hit the floor. She was dead before I even checked."
XII.
None of them have been able to get the drop on One, not yet. Every single time one of them tries, he hears them coming. Even Ham.
Tonight, though, things were going to be different. Three, Gwen, and Miles had gathered to observe as One and his Wade (Wade-O, as B had accidentally dubbed him) enjoyed their taco Tuesday on a Saturday afternoon.
Perfect timing, in Gwen's humble opinion.
"Alright," Three directed, "Miles, you're on distraction. Just do some hopping."
"Why am I the distraction? I'm the invisa-boy!" Miles said indignantly.
Three rolled his entire head. "Because, you sizzle, little man. All that bioelctricity makes you sound as noisy as a car in an empty street. Did One teach you nothing?"
Miles sighed. "Fine."
"Anyways, Gwen, you're going to go in for gold, 'kay? I'll be in an abandoned apartment filming this with a drone. Bye!"
(To nobody's suprise, this ends with One dangling Gwen off a rooftop by her hood and Wade-O dramatically screaming as Miles flickered, poor kid was still scared of every Deadpool except for Peni's.)
End Notes: I saw that the author wrote something inspired by this and so I wrote one more, lol. Anywho, might add notes to this to some of the other thingys.
XIII.
Two, B, and Ham were all standing with mirrored cross-armed postures and that caused all of the children (that somehow included Three and Noir? They'd tried to object but the adults would not be swayed) to sweat under their suits/hoodies.
"Noir," Ham finally said, and said spider went rigid as everyone but One -- empath that he was -- breathed a sigh of relif.
"You are a lying liar," B agreed, huffing and crossing his arms the other way for dramatic effect.
Noir struggled to create a response, but luckily Two beat him to the punch. "So me and B were messing around on photoshop, as you do, when we made a discovery."
"Oh my god," Gwen whispered to Miles in awe, "I think that they're embarrassing their inner man-child."
B grabbed his phone from his pocket and turned it on grumpily. "Presenting: The Spider of 1934 or whatever, colourised!"
When the image was shown, everyone gasped. There was silence, until...
Three burst out laughing. "Noir, you dress up like an avocado!"
Peni wheezed. "What ever happened to red and blue, Benji? The Parker colours not good enough for you?"
"How was I supposed to know what colour it was!?"
Gwen leaned on One for support, but One was barely standing up as well. "Those are some of the ugliest shades of gray, dude, of course they wouldn't be the good colours!"
"I'll have you know that wearing ugly colours makes it more likely that someone would look away from me," Noir pouted.
B finally broke and started laughing alongside everyone else.
End Notes: So there are actually some pics of Noir's outfit in colour. He's brown and green.
XIV.
Two hates that he's jealous of some of his fellow spiders.
They hadn't even done anything to deserve it, it was all just circumstance and other things he should have expected the moment he signed up for the multiverse thing, but he still sometimes found himself envious of how simple their worlds seemed.
His world was an outlier, even if it was more grounded than a talking pig or giant mech. See, unlike the rest of the universes where the spider being was always the teenager just trying to use his powers for good, in his universe he was the 21st century superhero and had responsibilities that came with it, especially when Iron Man and all those others began popping up and essentially forcing him to do what they did because he was supposedly the superhero.
People all over the world thought that he was one of the glorified Avengers, and began mirroring their opinions on the team onto Spider-Man.
Superhero now meant someone that you only trusted when there was nobody left to trust, somebody who you rolled your eyes about because they 'don't know what they're doing' only to turn around and get starry eyed at the chance to actually meet one.
And it wasn't... it wasn't that he hadn't been seen as something like that back when he was in his prime, it was that it had become so much more... common ever since showboaters like Stark had claimed the word superhero as theirs.
Meanwhile, that was just how it was in the rest of the dimensions. Gwen had been wanted by the cops, even her own father, from the start, as had Noir, Peni was sponsored by the literal government, B didn't care what people thought about him, Ham had cartoon logic and a lack of papers on his side, Two was the only superhero in his world, and the rest of them -- including Gwen as well -- had all started after other superherores from their world, and didn't have to worry about the mental tole of being the baseline hero.
But it was... fine. He was the responsible adult of the group. B didn't count because he was a little depressed.
"Clint," Peter greets, not turning around to face the bow-wielding superhero that had just ever-so-rudely interrupted his late night city watch.
Clint Barton, otherwise known as the superhero -- actually an agent, but none of the advertisers would dare say that -- Hawkeye, the sharpshooter who could probably have knocked Peter unconscious if he wanted to, but had instead decided on a friendly chit-chat, as usual.
"Spider-Man," Clint responds, as if it's not such a weird thing to call someone casually like this. "Long night?"
"It just started."
Clint clears his throat awkwardly. "Mr. Stark would like to have a meeting with you, I thought I should warn you before he comes blasting over in his suit."
Peter arches an eyebrow under the mask. "Meeting?"
"Yeah... something dumb, I'm not really sure what, but he really wanted to have this conversation with you for some reason."
It takes a second to load, but then Peter just sighs. "Tell Mr. Stark that I am not joining his stupid possy, and he can kiss my ass if he thinks I can be bribed."
Clint sighs. "I knew that was what you were going to say. Just, look at this."
He holds out a notecard, and on it is written an address, tagged with the initials 'DP.'
"He found out about the meeting, somehow, and said that if you made the right choice to come to him. Give the guy a shot, man. It gets lonely up here."
And within a few seconds, Clint Barton has vanished.
Huh.