A/N: It took me two months to finish this and edit it. I've been so so so busy lately. Sorry. Hope you enjoy!

Peter was running. He was running and swinging. Peter had to move as fast as he could before the truth caught up to him. He was running out of breath. And his conversation with Deadpool was playing on repeat in his mind.

"I remember dying."

"You actually remember that."

"So, it's true. I did die."

"Fuck! You tricked me. And I didn't say you did. You said you did. Don't put words in my mouth."

"Don't do that. You're bad at it. I can see right through your badly veiled lies. I have a secret identity. I know how to do that better than you."

"Right. Right. I'm not trying to lie. It's more like I'm trying to prolong the conversation. I missed you, buddy. And I'd rather you come back with me before you figure out all the ins and outs. What do you say?"

"Wade. I died. I know I died. You know I died. What I don't know is how I ended up here. Or how you knew to look for me. I was dead, Wade. Why would you look for me?"

"Spidey, let's go home. I'll take you to my favorite taco truck. We'll buy out the truck. Take all the tacos back to my place. Get comfy on the couch. Throw on some music to set the mood. Then we'll gab like Wilma and Betty about all the dimension-hopping nonsense."

"How did you know I was in a different dimension?"

"You're like a fucking dog with a bone."

"Wade."

"Fine. When I found out you died, I couldn't bear it. You're my best friend. I couldn't just let my best bud die. New York would never be the same without you. So, I talked to a few people. And they all turned me away. Everyone except for the Barren Martyr fellow."

"Do you mean Baron Mordo?"

"Uh, yup. That's his name."

"What did you do, Wade?"

"Nothing. It was all Mordo and some Duran Duran wannabe. They brought you back to the land of the living."

"Duran Dur—? Are you talking about Dormammu? The ruler of the Dark Dimension?"

"You sure do know a lot of people, Spidey. Having you around while I was trying to figure this all out would have been—"

"Wade."

"Right. The magicians. Dark magic, voodoo cultists. You don't need to worry about them, buddy. I made sure to draw up a contract first. So that they couldn't keep you or use you for anything you wouldn't like. But they tricked me and sent you here. They said something about not being able to have two of you in one place, which made no sense. Until I found out that you hadn't actually died."

Peter swung too low and got his foot caught in a clothesline. He spun out of control and managed to grip a ledge. He hung there for a minute or two while he caught his breath. Then he pulled himself up and over to lay on a rooftop.

Peter stared up at the dark cloudy sky. The light from the police zeppelin shone on the clouds. He could hear people bustling about. Some were shouting. Others were singing. But everything sounded distorted. Too far and too close. Too high and too low.

Suddenly, Peter felt claustrophobic. He ripped off what was left of his mask. The air was humid and tasted wrong in his mouth. He gagged and rolled to the side. He breathed in through his nose and decided to wait out the nausea. All the noise disappeared except for that conversation.

"What do you mean I didn't die?"

Wade looked down and away.

"Dear god. I'm a clone. I'm a fucking clone."

"No. No. No. You are you. Your own person. A separate entity from the other you."

"I'm a clone. This makes so much sense. It's why my memory is all out of order. Why I can only remember certain things and don't know others. I thought it was a side effect of dying. But I've never died before. I'm only a few months old. I was brought into this world in that chrysalis. Oh my god, why do I have a belly button? What is its purpose? This is so weird…"

"Spidey!"

"WHAT, Wade?! What could you possibly want? I just found out I'm a clone. Leave me alone."

"Oh, sweet pea. Get a hold of yourself. You. Are. Not. A. Clone. You are the motherfucking Spider-Man of this dimension. Sure, it's not ideal to come to be as an adult with a whacked-out memory intact that is different from what you thought was the truth. By the way, been there, done that. My origin story has been rewritten so many times.

"But this isn't about me. Let's circle back to what you were saying. Something about a chrysalis? You're not a butterfly, Spidey. You're a spider. It's in the name. And spiders lay eggs. You hatched from an egg. A spider egg. Ergo, not a clone."

Peter sat up in a hurry and lurched forward. He ended up on his hands and knees. He expelled everything from his stomach and continued to dry heave for a moment longer. When he finished, he stood up on shaky legs and ran. He didn't know where he was or where he was going. He just had to get away. Far away from his thoughts. From the memory of that conversation.

"Go home, Wade."

"What? We're leaving. It's about time. Though, I have to ask. Does Batman look like Robert Pattinson or Ben Affleck here?"

"I'd say more like George Clooney."

"Shut the front door."

Spidey turned his back to him.

"Wait. Was that a joke? You told a joke. Ha! I knew you couldn't stay angry at me."

"Angry? Who's angry? That word has nothing on what I'm feeling. You need to go before I kill you and burn your body so that you won't be able to regenerate."

"Spidey?"

"Leave."

"I can't just leave you here with a fake George Clooney!"

"There is no Clooney! And I'm not your friend. I just met you, and I'd like you to leave. Go back to your real friend."

"If you have memories of our friendship, then you are my best friend. And I'm not leaving without you. I'm taking you home. You're my very own Build-A-Spidey! It says so here on this contract. You won't have to worry about a thing. I got you, Spidey."

Spider-Man walked up to Deadpool and began patting him down.

Wade chuckled. "Spidey, hey. You're not a Magic-order bride. You don't need to do that. Unless you really want to…"

Spidey pulled out a knife and a lighter from two different pockets on Wade's suit. He snatched the magic contract from Wade's hand. Then he cut into his hand and dribbled blood on the contract before setting it on fire.

"Uh, Spidey? What are you doing?"

"Rescinding the contract."

"I don't think it works like that."

"It absolutely works exactly like this."

"How do you know?"

"Because I said so." He didn't release the contract until the fire licked his fingers. He released the last piece and watched it burn as it fell to the ground. "I'm going home. You should too."

"Spidey."

"Deadpool, you don't belong here. I do. It's like you said. I'm the motherfucking Spider-Man of this dimension. That means I stay here, and you go back to yours."

"Fuck!"

"Bye, Wade. It was nice knowing you, even if it was for a short while."

"Bamf?"

"Sorry, Blue. This is the way it has to be. Please, get him back safe, and don't let him return."

"…bamf."

"No wai—!"

BAMF!

Spidey came back to his senses at the edge of a rooftop. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. He'd been operating on autopilot. It wasn't until he began a freefall that his thoughts returned to the present time. He looked around and tried to release a web, but nothing happened.

Spidey had just jumped off a twenty-story building. The floor was coming up fast. He knew he could slow down his fall if he did a flip. As he uncurled from the tuck, he automatically reached out to grab something. He looked around for a ledge when he saw something on the horizon. The sky shimmered. It was like a mirage. Instead of being stagnant, it was moving toward him.

Magic!

A wall obscured his view. Peter was in an alley. He'd forgotten he was falling. He didn't have enough time to change his web cartridges. He did, however, have time for a last-ditch effort. He pulled out an emergency cartridge and threw it to the ground.

The cartridge was designed like an airbag. Upon impact, the webbing would expand to act as a cushion then it would dissolve within a few minutes. Peter sunk into the pillow of webs. But at the velocity he was going, his body sliced through the webs without much resistance. The webbing slowed his momentum some but not enough.

The last thing Peter saw before he'd sunk into the webbing was a flash of light. He cradled his head with his arms and tucked in his knees before he hit the floor and passed out.

Peter woke up feeling cold. His head felt heavy as if a bag of bricks was pressing it down. His eyelids fluttered but never fully opened. He swore he heard dogs barking.

I need to sleep off last night's patrol. Someone shut those dogs up. Please.

"Shh…shh…shh. Let's let Mr. Man sleep a little more."

Thank you, Gwen. There are a couple of pet treats in my wrist pocket. That usually gets the doggies to quiet down and stay put.

"Let's get you a little more comfortable, hmm?"

Peter felt a pinch in his arm. The bag of bricks in his head morphed into feathers and flew away.

Thanks, Mom. I feel so much better. G'd ni't.

Peter stretched and yawned before he opened his eyes. He rubbed his belly as he looked around and then froze.

Where am I?

He sat up on the bed. It looked like he was in an office. From beyond the door, he could hear dogs barking and a parrot squawking. Then the door opened, and a blonde in a white coat walked in.

Uh. Please tell me she's not a psychiatrist. Am I her patient? But why am I hearing animals? And why is there a bed in her office? Wait. Wait. Wait. Was I her booty call? No, I would remember that. I had to be roofied and delivered here. What the hell am I thinking?

The woman turned around. When Peter saw her face, his breath caught in his throat. It was Gwen. He had just been dreaming of her.

"Oh, good. You're awake. How are you feeling?" she said with an awkward smile.

Peter stood on shaky legs and took two steps forwards. She rushed to meet him and held on to his arms.

"Easy there, tiger."

"Gwen?"

"Why don't we get you to sit down for a bit? You had quite an eventful night. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Gwen, is it really you?" Peter said and reached out to touch her hair.

"Okay. Let's not get handsy. Here you go," she told him as she settled him in a chair near the desk. She leaned against it and crossed her arms over her chest. "We'll start with introductions. My name is Hailey Thomas. And it's nice to finally meet you."

"What?" Did she say Hailey? But she looks exactly like Gwen. Except Gwen is blonder. And her eyes are blue. This girl is a dirty blonde with Violet eyes. Very pretty, Violet eyes.

"Do you remember what happened last night?"

Peter shook his head.

"Hmm. What's the last thing you remember?"

"I'm not sure. Talking to a friend. No. Arguing with—" Wade! And then Peter remembered their conversation and falling off the building. The weird magic coming towards him. The bed of webs he made to catch himself. "I, um. I think I fell."

"Are you sure you fell?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Peter said defensively. "I wasn't trying to kill myself. I used webbing to break my fall?"

"I see," she said and nodded. She stood up and walked around her desk. She sat down and pulled out a notepad. She scribbled something down and handed it to Peter.

"What's this?" Peter said and looked at the paper dumbfounded. "Is this a bill?"

"Yes. It's for the medication I used on you. And sorry that I messed up the dose. I don't normally treat people. And never people with healing capabilities."

"Did you say people? As in you usually treat aliens here?"

She chuckled. "I wonder why you thought of aliens first." She smiled at him. "I'm a veterinarian. You're in my office. This is a pet clinic. Not a free clinic for people or otherwise."

"Otherwise? I'm still human, even with my spider powers." Uh. Crap!

"Yes, I pieced that together after a while. I'm glad I chose not to take you to the hospital." She pulled out a plastic bag from under her desk. Inside was his Spider-Man suit. "Though, I'm glad you weren't some rando dressing like Spider-Man and jumping off roofs."

"That's not mine." Peter inwardly cringed as soon as he said it. Why am I so stupid today?

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

All Peter could do was nod at the stranger with the familiar face.

"The next time you have a medical emergency and can't go to a hospital, for some reason, Doctor Leslie Thompson has a free clinic down the street. I would've taken you there last night, but my clinic was closer. Also, you were wearing your suit, but you had your mask in your hand. And with that head injury..."

"Thank you." Peter looked down. It was then that he noticed he was wearing scrubs. He plucked at the pink garment that had black and white kittens in cute poses. He looked up at the girl with a raised brow and half a smile.

She chuckled. "That was all you. Didn't know you had a soft spot for kitties?"

"Yeah, I do. I think they're cute. They just don't like me."

They both laughed.

"The fastest way to a cat's heart is to ignore them. If you come on too strong, trying to get them to come to you before they're ready, they get scared and try to run away. But if they're backed in a corner they lash out."

"Huh. That explains a lot."

She smiled at him then she tightened her lips. "You know. It was touch and go with you for a few hours. You had a head injury I had to keep an eye on. There were a few lacerations I needed to stitch up. You also had a fractured spine. Keeping you still so you wouldn't hurt yourself further was a little difficult."

"Sorry."

She waved the comment away.

"Your injuries didn't make sense to me. You were in the alley next to this building. I found you when I was taking out some trash. But this building is only five stories high. Your injuries are from a fall much higher than that. Do you remember what happened? Were you on Batman's turf, and he threw you off Gruenwald Tower?"

"No, uh," he chuckled. "Believe it or not, I threw myself off the tower."

"A swan dive?"

"No. Not exactly. More like a stride jump."

"Did you lose sight of your landing?"

"No, I, uh, ran out of webs."

"Webs? You have spider webs?" She pulled out his web-shooters and laid them on the desk. "Is that what these are for, to shoot webs?"

"Yeah. They were empty. And I fell."

"You were covered in some weird sticky stuff. Was that you? You did that?"

"Yes, a web grenade to cushion my fall."

She let out a sigh of relief. "That's good. Very good."

"Um, no. It was bad, very bad."

"No, I'm sorry. It's not what I meant. I thought you were suicidal." She let out a breath and placed a hand over her chest. "I'm sorry. I thought I made a huge mistake bringing you in here."

"Oh. I'm really sorry for all the trouble, but I can assure you, I'm not suicidal."

"I'm glad to hear that. So, are you hungry?"

"Starving!"

"We have dogs, cats, and a few birds. What are you in the mood for?"

"Uh."

"Kidding! There is a diner on the next block. I have some Crocs that will match your outfit. Say when."

"When."

Hailey laughed and got up. She took off her white coat and gestured for Peter to follow. She bent down and opened the cabinet near the door. She brandished a new pair of Crocs. They were pink like the scrubs.

Peter took them and put them. Then his stomach growled fiercely. Hailey chuckled and grabbed her wallet and keys. Peter was hot on her trail as she walked out the door. He needed food and he needed it now. The rest was a problem for future Peter.