Peter 1

"Incoming!"

A panzer tank blew a chunk of earth from the ground, spewing up brown water.

Ever tried guerilla warfare during spring in the Austrian countryside after it rained for a week?

I have. It's not pleasant.

I tripped on half-buried barbed wire and face-planted in the mud.

I sucked my face out. It was like fighting against a vacuum.

"I hate this." I grumbled.

I suddenly got deja vu from the really weird vision that Strange gave me. Creepy.

But instead of Wanda plucking me out of the mud, it was Bucky Barnes.

"Come on, kid. We ain't playing in the mud all day."

"Does it look like I was enjoying it?"

We jogged through a muddy field that threatened to pull us in like quicksand. It slowed our pace even more.

Two enemy soldiers emerged from a trench. We dropped on our stomachs and exchanged gunfire.

It's been almost a year of serving alongside Bucky in the army and I'm still not over how weird it is.

The first time we met at the Leipzig airport in Germany, I'm pretty sure I terrified him.

There he was, minding his own business, trying to not get arrested, when suddenly, this spider-guy starts chasing him and his buddy. Then that guy brings his metal arm to a dead halt, something nobody is supposed to do.

Even then, I knew that Bucky was shocked when I blocked his punch.

Bucky was still coming out of the winter soldier programming. He wasn't very expressive with his emotions, but he was in that moment.

The Hydra soldiers were getting too close for comfort.

I shot out webs and slammed them to the ground.

"See, Holland? These fights would be over way faster if you flinged the spider webs out sooner."

I held up my wrist with my web shooter.

"Do you want Hydra getting their hands on these?"

Bucky shot a few rounds. "Guess not."

When they brought Bucky into the lab in the prison camp, I was suddenly way more alert. I knew that what they would do to Bucky would start him on the path to become a mindless assassin for seventy years.

With every injection, every test, and every electro-shock trial that they did with Bucky, I thought, this is what's gonna make him the Winter Soldier.

And ever since then, a guilty little feeling has been festering in the back of my mind.

I've been spending a lot of time with Bucky. The guilty feeling pops up at random intervals like a painful reminder. Sometimes he'll be sharing a joke or he borrows the razor that I never use. A thought comes into my head.

You see this bright, young sergeant? All that goes away because of Hydra and you know what's about to happen.

My spider-sense pulled me to my right. A grenade was coming at us.

I was about to grab Bucky and pull him to the ground, but he caught the grenade with his bare hand and flung it across the field. It went off without hurting anyone.

"Wow."

Bucky grinned. "Pretty cool, huh?"
"How'd you do that?" I asked.

What would I have given to take Green Goblin's pumpkin bomb and throw it like that before it could hurt May?

"A lot of baseball."

Even though alleyway baseball can give you a really good throwing arm, Bucky was just afraid to admit that after the Hydra experiments, his senses and reflexes had improved.

Steve strode over with Dugan and the Peters.

"We're almost finished here, guys. Let's head out."
"Alright. Just give us a second." Bucky said. "Holland and I are gonna make sure that there aren't any Hydra stragglers."

"If you find any, we'll pack them with the rest of the POWs." Dugan said.

They headed over to a jeep waiting for us while Bucky and I went closer to a ditch.

"I thought ditches were from the great war." I said.

Here's a time-traveling tip, don't refer to the first world war as World War 1. It freaks people out.

"You mean trenches." Bucky explained. "This here is just a hidey-hole."

We saw movement in the ditch.

For a second, I thought a zombie was coming out of the ground.

It was just a wounded Hydra soldier.

His uniform was streaked with blood and dirt. He clutched his side as he slurred out,

"Cut off one head…..two more will…."

He cocked a loaded gun at us.

"Take its place."

It was instinct, not choice.

I threw myself in the path of the bullet. I felt it rip through my chest.

I heard another gunshot and Bucky yell for a medic, then it all went black.

I woke up in a hospital bed with Strange, Wanda, Loki, Bucky, and Steve all staring at me.

"So I take it I'm not dead." I said with a scratchy rasp.

"Fortunately for you, no." Peggy said, striding in with a nurse behind her.

"Doctor Strange, the Colonel needs you to sign these."

The nurse handed Strange a clipboard.

"What are they?" I asked.

"I'm signing to give you a week-long medical leave." Strange said, signing in his signature shaky handwriting. "Actually, for all three of you."

"Three?"

The nurse pulled back a curtain.

Peter 2 and 3 laid in identical hospital beds next to me. They were pretty groggy, but awake.

"Hey, man. What's up?" Peter 3 flicked out his pinky and pointer finger.

I took it as a rock n' roll sign and the web shooter hand position.

"What happened?" I asked.

"What do you remember?" Bucky asked.

"Um, there was a Hydra survivor and….."

I wrestled the last memories into my consciousness. I got shot somewhere between then and now.

"You took a bullet for me, Peter." Bucky said with a new tone of respect.

Oh, yeah. There was that.

I could barely move my head, so I forced my eyeballs to move as low as possible.

I was shirtless, but there were a whole lot of dressings and bandages covering my right shoulder. It looked pretty bad, but I felt fine other than feeling like I was hit with a major cold.

"When you went down, Garfield and Maguire were the first to hear Bucky yell." Steve continued. "They ran across the field to help. Turns out, Hydra placed timed landmines."

I sat upright. Landmines? I could handle a gunshot no problem, but I'd heard horror stories of soldiers stepping on landmines and losing their limbs.

Strange forced me down.

"Easy, kid. You've had a hard day."

"How bad is it, Doc?" Peter 2 asked nonchalantly.

"Well, you went through surgery ok." Wanda said. "Can you feel your limbs?"

"Yeah." Peter 3 said.

Wanda smiled. "Then you're just fine."

"But there's probably bad scarring, right?" Peter 2 asked.

"It's too soon to tell." Strange said.

I doubted that there was scarring. Us Spider-Men healed like champs when we were given the time.

Wanda subtly shook her head and mouthed, There's not.

Strange smiled. "I'd expect quick recovery, but only if you rest."

He gave me a small wink. He knew we'd heal soon, but he also knew that if we were back on our feet tomorrow with no problems, there would be questions.

The rest of the Commandos came in, to say hi and told us to get well soon.

"It won't be the same without you, kid." Dugan said.

Colonel Phillips and a few other officers awarded us purple hearts, which made me feel like an imposter. Hundreds of thousands of brave soldiers would be wounded for their country. A bullet wound was like a paper cut to me. Sure, it hurt way worse and it was way more dangerous, but the wound went away soon.

For most guys, that wasn't the case.

Later on that day, Bucky came back in.

"Hey."

"Hey." I responded.

He awkwardly sat down at the end of the bed.

"I….didn't get to thank you."
"It's alright." I said. "It's just another day on the job, eh?"
"You know you didn't have to take that bullet for me. You're just a kid."
Was I just a kid? At this point, I didn't even know.

I chuckled. "What does that make you? Gandalf?"
I did a mental double-check. When was the Hobbit written again?
Luckily, he seemed to get the reference.

He shook my hand.

"Thanks, kid."

But a polite handshake wasn't enough for him or for me.

He pulled me in for a hug.

My watch read nine o'clock. It was going to be lights out soon, but the other Peters were asleep. I guess they needed more healing time than I did.

I doubted that I'd be able to sleep.

The stress and guilt had been pounding me in the gut for hours.

I stared at the soft glow of my bedside lamp, wondering if I could stop what was going to happen to Bucky.

"Peter?"
Strange's voice tore me out of my head. He was standing over my bed.

"Are you alright?"

"Operation: Where Eagles Dare."

It came out of nowhere, but now that I said it, it wasn't gonna stop.

"What?"
"The Howling Commandos' mission to capture Zola. The one where they lose Bucky. When does that happen?"

I knew Strange had been at this afternoon's briefing.

The Peters and I were taking leave, so we had no idea what was discussed.

Strange sighed.

"Peter, if you're saying that you want to save Bucky, you know what the implications could be."

"Did you know him? Before our universe was destroyed, I mean. Did you know him?"

"I saw him at the funeral."

We saw everyone at the funeral, from a talking space racoon to the Secretary of State.

"When I saw on the news that Sam and Bucky had stopped the Flag Smashers, I thought he was doing better. But now I have a younger version to compare him to."

Strange had that stoic doctor expression when you're trying really hard to stay unemotional.

"I was wrong, Strange." My throat tightened. "He's never gonna be the same again."
"Peter, that was seventy years of being under Hydra's control. Of course it's going to take him a while to recover. But you and I both know that by the time our universe is destroyed, Bucky is at peace."
I swallowed hard. "But is he?"

Strange said he was at peace. He was satisfied with the sacrifices he'd made.

But I wasn't. I accepted my sacrifices, but I was never satisfied with leaving my home and family.

I had been fighting against resentment churning inside of me. I wonder what it's like to be Stephen Strange. The guy who's always making the sacrifice plays. And the guy who's ok with it.

Peter 2

"Excusez-moi, monsieur." said a bright voice.

I looked up from the Kodak-35 camera that I was helping Peter 1 use.

Honestly, the kid forgot what film was for a second. I'm not that old, am I?

A little French girl and her brother timidly peered up at us.

I bent down to reach their eye level.

"Oui, mademoiselle? Comment puis-je t'aider?"

Their eyes lit up.

"L'américain parle français!" The boy said.

Peter 1 gave me an intrigued look. "What did he say?"

"They didn't know if we spoke French." I said.

"I don't."

I smiled proudly. "I do."

"Our mother says you have chocolate." the girl continued in French.

Our squadron was stationed in a French village that was just recently liberated from the Nazis.

The people here were kind, but war-weary and they didn't have a lot. To have a pound of sugar was a dream, much less candy.

The Peters and I were still on medical leave, but we couldn't spend the entire week in bed, so this morning, we set out to explore the town. There wasn't much to see. A bunch of buildings in the square had been destroyed. A Red Cross truck was parked nearby and nurses passed out relief packages to hungry villagers.

I nodded with a serious expression.

"I do." I told them.

I pulled a Hershey's bar from my ration pack and watched their eyes grow.

"But only good kids can have chocolate before dinner. Are you a good boy and girl?"

I asked.

"Oui." They nodded quickly.

"Do you help your mother?"

"Oui."

Peter held the camera in front of him.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He waved me away.

"Just keep doing what you're doing."

I smiled and broke the chocolate in half.

"Then I believe this belongs to you two."

I put the two chunks in their waiting hands.

"Merci!" they exclaimed.

I waved good-bye as they ran off across the square.

I caught Peter grinning at me.

"What?"

"Oh, you just have that wistful look in your eyes." he said. "We've got to get you some kids."

I laughed.

"You say that like you're gonna kidnap kids."

He shrugged.

"Either way, I got some really good shots of you just now. At least I think I do." he shook his head at the camera. "I miss digital photos."

Peter 3 came up behind us.

"Hey, Peter 1. You've been to Europe, right? Because I need a translator right about now."

"The school trip to Paris got canceled, dude. I know basic conversational German, maybe some Italian phrases, but that's it."

"What? No Spanish?"

"Bueno, por supuesto."

"¡Porque vivimos en Nueva York!"

I grinned. Two white guys showing off their Spanish in rural France. That's something to see.

"Hey, look. It's Wanda!"

Wanda approached us, but I could tell she wasn't here just to say hi.

Her eyes were red and her hair windblown.

She must've ran from base.

"We just got a message." Her voice trembled. "There was a casualty from Operation: Where Eagles Dare."

Horror filled Peter 1's face.

"That was this week?"

"You didn't know?"

I wasn't as concerned that we missed a mission. We were on leave after all.

But we lost someone in the Howling Commandos.

"Who was it?" I asked.

She shook her head. "They didn't say. Phillips needs all personnel present."

Peter 1 raced down the street with Wanda going after him.

To keep things classified, the radio operator wouldn't always name the people that died.

But judging from Peter 1's reaction and Wanda's, it was too obvious.

Wanda

I followed Peter in pursuit.

I sensed anger and pain pulsing from him.

He was preparing himself for this mission. He wanted to be there to save Bucky.

But he didn't come.

Peter was making a beeline towards the medical tent. He was focused on Doctor Strange. Strange was the one that kept him on leave. Peter had the right to be angry, but he couldn't confront Strange. Not now. He needed to wait and collect himself.

I raced to catch up with him.

"Peter! Peter, wait!"

Loki came out from the tent just as Peter was charging in.

He caught Peter's fists just as he was about to swing his fist at something.

"Easy! Easy!" Loki saw Peter's face. He glanced at me. "She told you."

"Told me about what?" Peter demanded. "That Strange had me purposefully detained?"
"What? No! No, about the casualty-"

He put two-and-two together. Peter, Strange, and I were the only ones that knew who died today.

"Sergeant Barnes." he uttered.

Peter pushed past him. Doctor Strange was seated at his desk, almost like he expected Peter to come barging in.

"Why didn't you tell me!?" he shouted.

Strange was a former neurosurgeon. He was used to seeing the upset family members of a patient come into his office, yelling at him. But this time there was no assistant to use as a shield.

Strange tried to look sympathetic.

"You know what would've happened if we stopped his-"
"We?" Peter gave a desperate laugh. "Is that what this is?" he shook his head. "No, Strange. You don't go out there and fight with us. Even if you gave yourself the chance to save him, which you wouldn't, you aren't in the right position to. I knew the circumstances. I knew the situation. And you stopped me."

"Had I allowed you to stop James Barnes's fall, we would've been tampering with the timeline."

"And what's to say we aren't now?" A voice asked from behind me.

Peter 3 and 2 had finally caught up to us.

They were both very protective of Peter. They both watched Strange and Peter carefully, unsure whether they should help Peter's argument.

They were detained for the same reasons Peter was. Because they wouldn't stop Bucky from falling either.

"To everybody else," Peter 1's voice broke. "Bucky is dead. But not us. He's alive and dead at the same time. And I wasn't there."

I didn't want to cry, but I could feel my eyes getting watery.

Back in my Avenger days, I hadn't known Bucky very well. But the first time I caught sight of him, I could sense a horrible fight in his mind. That day in the airport, he was still fighting with the Winter Soldier programming. All he wanted to do was the right thing. At the battle of Wakanda, he was a war-weary soldier who was tired of the fight. But he still fought anyway. Then at Tony's funeral, I found myself standing beside him, while Sam kept checking to see if we were ok. It hurt me to know that the broken man I would one day meet started on that path today.

"Peter, don't put the blame on yourself." Strange said.

"Who do I blame it on? You?" he snapped. "And you're right."

Tears were building up in his eyes, but they didn't fall.

"That's what you are, Strange. You're the guy with the chess board. You make the sacrifices. I've seen it before, you know. With the multiverse guys, with….Tony."

I sensed that Peter was ready to leave the room before he said something else that he might regret.

And he did.

Soon, it was just me and Strange.

He had his head in his hand. It was draining on him, but he deserved it.

"The kid's not wrong, you know." I said.

"I know."

I sat in the empty chair next to him.

"When we were fighting Thanos, you knew. You knew who would go, who would stay."

I was going and opening my own wound, but Spider-Man wasn't the only one with a bone to pick.

"Was there a possibility that Natasha, Stark, and…" I felt my throat closing in. "and Vision lived?"

He stayed silent. Whether he didn't speak because the answer was one I didn't like or there was no answer, I couldn't tell.

I gave up and was just about to leave.

"Loki's right."
I turned away from the entrance of the tent.

"Whether we like it or not, Loki tends to be right about a lot of things." I said, crossing my arms. "You'll have to be specific.

He sat up.

"The way we won was one of thousands that played out. But it's the only one where agents of the TVA didn't come and detain us all."

I realized what he was getting at.

The same agency that was capturing Lokis and stalking Peter Parker was the same one that stopped us from defeating Thanos with less loss.

So there was a reality out there where Vision didn't have to die and we could be a family. But it was kept from me. Exhaustion hit me suddenly. Exhaustion from the fighting and the losses.

"Why are they doing this to us?" I asked him.

For the first time, I noticed tears in Strange's eyes.

This hurt him as much as anybody. But he held up a facade of being emotionless.

That's what pushed people away.

Suddenly, we heard the roar of a plane engine overhead.

"That's them." Strange said.

I raced outside. I had to see Steve. I had to be there when they landed.

Everyone gathered around the landing strip as the air force plane came in.

Dugan and Jones led Zola in handcuffs. More armed guards came to escort him.

Zola's eyes wandered over to the three Peters, who stared right back at him.

Zola smiled eerily. Despite the situation, he was pleased that he could torment them with only his presence.

The rest of the Commandos trudged off the ramp. They all looked miserable, but Steve looked the worst.

He followed from behind with an emotionless look.

Every step seemed to take all of his strength. Colonel Phillips, Loki, and a few other officers approached him. I was too far out of earshot to hear what they were saying.

As the crowd dispersed, I approached him cautiously.

"Steve?"

He looked up.

I never related to Steve more than today.

The feeling of losing the brother that you grew up with. The brother who protected you from the streetfights and the bullies.

"I just lost my best friend." He said quietly. "Do you know what that felt like?"

"I do."

So I didn't stop myself from hugging him and letting the tears flow.

Pietro and Bucky have more in common than I thought they did.

Peter 1

I've been told men don't cry. Especially in the army.

That's why I kept my tears bottled up inside me until they threatened to tear me apart from the inside.

Later on that night, when no one was around, I went into my quarters, and cried at a controlled release, fighting the overpowering urge to scream.

Happy Friday, guys! This chapter was sadder than I thought it would be.

Sorry for another delay. Work keeps me busy and I'm dealing with another writer's block.

What I'm learning is that I can't let social media distract me when I'm writing, which is hard when there's really useful writing tips that you can find on YouTube or pinterest.

I wanted to make the Spider-Men multilingual for this story for plot reasons later on, but I thought it'd be fun to add a little Spanish tidbit.

In response to AnimeWatcher174, using the Last Stand Spider-man suit for Tobey is a really good idea. I'm not sure if I'll be able to find a good time to bring that into a later chapter, but thanks for the suggestion. (: