Peter 3

"Are you ready?"

I blinked. I was standing under a gazebo with white drapes flowing in a summer breeze. In front of me was a long line of white folding chairs that were being filled up with people in suits and dresses.

Peter 1 and 2 were standing next to me, wearing black suits, and big grins.

They both had their old haircuts from before the army went and sawed the sides off.

"Yeah. Sure…..For what again?"

They laughed. No, seriously, for what?

"Hey, it's okay." Peter 2 said. "I was really jittery before my wedding."

My face dropped. I blacked out for a second and next thing I knew, I was at a wedding?

This didn't feel right. There was something I missed.

"Weren't we somewhere else?" I asked.

"If you mean the hotel, yeah." Peter 1 said.

"No. It was cold and wet and you guys were crying…"
The two Peters looked at me like I had forgotten to take medication.

"We were what?"

"I think you had a really weird dream or something." Peter 2 said. "What did you eat yesterday?"

Peter 1 looked past me. He smiled and waved to someone from behind me.

I turned around. I might as well have seen a ghost.

It was Michelle Jones, Peter 1's girlfriend. But she was dead. She had vanished with the rest of our universes.

And next to her was a beautiful, red-haired woman who I could only guess was Peter 2's MJ.

And they were wearing bridesmaid dresses, which could only mean….

"Hey, there's the groom!"

Wanda walked over to us wearing a wine-colored dress.

I had never seen her so happy or energetic before.

Wanda pulled me in for a hug. She had never done that before either.

"Are you nervous?" she asked.

I couldn't tell her I had no idea what was happening, so I shook my head.

She beamed at me. "Great. Because you don't need to be."

Loki and Strange came over, also wearing suits.

"We just wanted to wish you good luck before the ceremony." Loki said.

"What does he need luck for?" Peter 1 asked. "What could go wrong?"

Peter 2 shook his head. "Whenever someone asks what could go wrong, something usually does go wrong. So don't jinx it!"

"Okay! Okay! Look, I'll knock on wood."

Peter 1 rapped his knuckles against a wooden post.

"Peter and Gwen are going to have a happy life together. See?"

"Gwen?" I repeated.

Gwen had died years ago. Maybe Gwen and I could've gotten married, but that was a dream that I buried when she died.

What was this?

Next thing I knew, the six of us were taking a group photo with Peter 1's phone. When had we been this friendly and open with each other? And how was Peter 1 standing by Loki and not acting like he was a disease? I thought Peter hated him.

"Guys, they're about to start!" Peter 1 whispered.

Loki and Strange patted me on the back and they followed Wanda to a row of chairs.

A woman in a beautiful white dress glided down the aisle.

The second I saw her face, time seemed to freeze.

Every step she made seemed to take years.

She went up the stairs where I waited.

And then she looked up at me and smiled.

It was Gwen.

I felt like I could live forever as long as it was with her.

There was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, something that was telling me this wasn't real. But I buried it deep inside me.

Because this moment was one I've been begging for for years.

All the pain and anguish of a decade was gone.

I could just take her in my arms, promise to be a better man, and promise to spend the rest of my life with her. This time, instead of letting her fall, I'd catch her.

This time will be different.

I woke up with a loud cry. I was back in the cell.

I lunged for the ground, trying to snatch back the pieces of that dream before they left me completely. I tried to keep telling myself that it was real and if I snapped out of it, I would be back underneath that gazebo, but I could feel myself waking up.

"No! It was real….it was real…."

I gritted my teeth to keep myself from crying.

I looked back at the wall that I had been leaning on while I slept.

The two Peters were resting against each others' shoulders, still asleep.

Only now did I realize how much weight they lost. Their cheeks were hollow and devoid of color. Peter 2's unbuttoned shirt hung from his torso. He had a jacket, but he gave that to Peter 1. I could've easily played their rib cages like a xylophone.

They looked just inches from death. If they looked that awful, what did I look like?

I missed my dream. They had been well-fed and weren't struggling to sit up.

"Peter?" Peter 1 asked groggily.

"Hmmm?" the older one responded.

"Could you go check on Peter 3?" His eyes were still closed. "I think he had a bad dream."
"You all right, bud?"

"Yeah." I said raspily. "Just a weird dream."

"Good weird or bad?"

"Good weird."

They were beginning to wake up too. Peter 2 held up a trembling hand.

"Guys, I can't shoot webs anymore."

He said it as a matter-of-factly.

Peter 2's natural webs were dependent on him not having any emotional crises. The experiments had definitely been draining on him. I didn't know what they were doing to us. I didn't feel myself at all. Sometimes, I felt like all my strength had been drained, sometimes I felt I could blow up the sun. They were using us for some kind of super soldier project, that was for sure. But whether they were using our blood for a new soldier or we were the new soldiers, I couldn't tell.

The younger Peter tried to assure him. ""It's okay, Pete. We just need to hold out a little longer until the cavalry comes."

"And what if they don't?"

"They have to."

A while ago, Peter 1 told us how Captain America went into a prison camp behind enemy lines by himself. He was able to free hundreds of prisoners. Even his best friend. But we had no idea if we were in the right prison camp or when that was even going to happen.

The sky was a few shades lighter. Dawn was coming and another day of torture and experiments with it.

Sure enough, we heard the heavy thuds of boots coming to our cell. I shut my eyes, not ready for round two.

There was a jingling of keys, then the icy squeal of the cell door being opened.

"Aufstehen." a guard ordered.

We were pulled to our feet like rag dolls and handcuffed. We had given up resisting a long time ago. We just didn't have the strength.

From our cell to Dr. Zola's lab was down a corridor, pass another set of bars, then take a left, two doors down.

Dr. Zola was standing over his desk when we walked in, reading some papers with anatomical designs; instructions on how to make our lives miserable for the next ten hours.

"Restrain them." Zola said. "We will begin soon."

We were bolted to the metal operation table. I exhaled, telling myself that I could take whatever they were going to throw at me today. I gave the other Peters a reassuring nod. They gave me nervous smiles.

Another door opened. Two Hydra guards dragged in a man. He had sharp eyes and a cleft chin. Definitely the type of guy who girls fawned over. The man fought against the guards. A guy that healthy and strong was probably a new arrival.

When he saw us, he looked like he was seeing ghosts.

"Who are those men? What did you do to them?" he shouted at Zola.

Wow. We must've looked awful. I glanced at the other Peters. Now that there was better lighting, there was no denying it. We looked like skeletons.

Zola had a small smile.

"The same thing I will do to you."

The prisoner was restrained onto another table next to me, still trying to fight the guards.

Like a classic mad scientist, Zola raised a syringe, tapping on it to release some liquid. The needle was several inches long. This was gonna hurt.

Zola's assistant came into the room.

"Dr. Zola, Schmidt is on the phone. He needs to speak with you."

Sighing, Zola set the syringe down and disappeared into his office.

The new guy was trying to be brave, but his chest rose and fell quickly.

"They say that nobody comes out of here." he said.

I gave him a sad nod. There were signs that there were people here before us. Blood on the floor, a piece of fabric from someone's jacket in the cell, and Zola grumbling about failed trials before we came. I didn't want to think about the former occupants of our cell.

"How long have you been here?" the man asked.

"We lost track of time." Peter 1 said. "A week, maybe."

"Does it hurt?"

"Oh, yeah." Peter 2 said.

The man sighed miserably. "Great."

"What's your name?" Peter 1 asked.

"Sergeant James Barnes. But my friends call me Bucky."
There it was again. The same expression on Peter 1's face when he saw Peggy Carter. The name James Barnes sounded painfully familiar. Where had I heard that?
Then I remembered Peter 1's stories of his Avenger days. He fought a brainwashed Soviet assassin named Bucky.

Dr. Zola came back in. He eyed Bucky greedily like a hawk before it dove in for the kill.

"Sergeant Barnes, you have the honor of being the first in today's experiments."

James Barnes, the future Winter Soldier, was about to go through his first procedures.

And there was nothing we could do to stop it.

And Bucky Barnes has entered the fanfic!

The original version of the dream in the beginning of chapter was from Peter 2's point of view and the other Peters were his half-brothers and he was going to propose to MJ, but I changed it for length and because I'd changed their names to the actors' first names and that was weirding me out.

Have a great day, guys. Thanks for reading.