DC Universe – Earth Prime

Gotham City

Wayne Manor – Batcave

"If you had to guess, how long do you think Dr Octavius has been here?" Batman spoke as he was looking over the information on his Batcomputer with growing amounts of dread.

"Based on what Deathstroke said… a while now… Months at least." Peter was leaning on the desk, rubbing the still raw aches and bruises of his misadventures earlier in the night.

Both Peter and Cass ate their Chinese in the Clocktower Peter, incidentally, realising how right Babs was about the quality of Dragon Wok, before they used Orphan's motorcycle to return to the Batcave. Cass went to get changed for some further sparring with Damian, who'd also just returned to the manor after he and Tigress decided to forego their Titan's training for the night.

Peter's thoughts were whirring steadily in his mind as he began to piece together what Bruce's train of thought was, reading the older man's unmasked expression as Peter briefed him on his octopus themed concerns.

"Hmmm… We already knew that there are several people with the same name as all of your rogues… Dr Otto Octavius included." Bruce replied as he was looking over the information on the screen.

"Yeah, I know. Supposedly a completely different guy… Completely different fields of research, younger, handsomer… Dead for nine months…" Peter said as he looked over his shoulder at the profile behind him.

A younger man from Metropolis in his mid-thirties with strawberry blond hair, a beard and a completely different face, a Doctor of mechanical engineering. He died in a building collapse after an attack by Intergang which killed three people. Not a mid-forties, brown-haired nuclear physicist with an evil, punchable face.

Peter heard a half grunt half sigh leave Bruce's mouth as the older man's fist tightened inside his glove, "You think it was a double bluff?" he added as he turned away from the screen and faced Bruce, noting his clear aggravation.

Bruce looked at him solemnly and sighed out a reply as his annoyed demeanour was immediately replaced with one of level-headed acceptance, "It was. Oracle looked back into it when she got home… It wasn't just a coincidence of names, but a fake profile to send you, us, off his trail."

"Or to taunt me…" Peter added under his breath.

"Hmm… Most likely both. We should have seen this… But the paper trail was airtight. There are videos of him at press conferences. We had Gordon send word to the MPD to check on some of his students… They gave statements." Bruce added as he was scanning the information on screen, his voice shadowed by disbelief.

"They can be faked… They could have used actors. Coerced people into lying. If the Light is as powerful as you say, and he's already with them…" Peter said as he stared at an unmasked Batman.

"This was all on purpose… Oracle hasn't been able to find any of his students again… They've vanished. We confirmed them the first time… And moved on. Their addresses, their social media, social security, all of it. All of them. They're all lies… None of them exist." Bruce was rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration, they'd been duped, "Hundreds of people… Gone. If we only checked again… Dug deeper."

Peter shook his head in frustration, "The 'master planner' strikes again. He must have seen that Jackson Brice and Max Dillon already had profiles, different people with the same names… Hell, I found out there's hairdresser in Star City called Victor Von Doom the other day... Completely different dude, trust me."

Bruce nodded, "Octavius capitalised on that. He made an army of fake profiles to make the lie believable. They had real people talk to the police inquiries we sent… And now that they've done their job, distracted us… They're gone.

"He relied on our assumption you all arrived at the same time… Since you and your other three villains only showed up a couple weeks ago… He used us to corroborate his story for him." Bruce added as he was eyeing a video of a lecture on robotics by the young Otto Octavius, the fake smile of the fake man mocking the 'World's Greatest Detective'.

"But Ock may have been here for months already, years even… He would have had time to do this… Waiting, for me to get here. Anticipating the moment I would fall into his trap of lies… I bet the smug bastard's chuckling evilly to himself right now…" Peter's voice was cold despite its attempt of levity, but there was a flicker of something else in there. He almost sounded scared at the implication.

"We were sloppy. He wasn't. He's laughing at us… He's even killed himself off and gone back to being a ghost, just to rub it in…" Bruce sighed as he gripped his gloved hand into an even tighter fist than before. He felt something he'd not felt for a while, defeat.

"Don't feel too bad, Bats. He's probably like the tenth smartest person in the world back home, which considering some of the names on that list… I mean, it's astounding to even make the cut." Peter said but it was clear he was just as pissed of as Bruce, more so even, "So, the Light? They've got to be our best bet at picking up the trail…" Peter added as he stood up from the desk.

"The Light has been a priority target of the Justice League for a while now… Now the priority has gotten larger… If Octavius can achieve all this, just on a whim, to mock us, then we need to find him, fast. Before he helps the Light achieve their goals… The Question is working the case as we speak." Bruce spoke as he stood from his seat.

"So, what do we do? twiddle our thumbs while we wait?" Peter asked, deep, exasperated, sarcasm in his tone.

"We're going to train. Hard. Octavius made a mockery of us and, frankly, that pisses me off… I need to work through this frustration, and it looks like you do too. Get changed and meet me in the training room in five." Bruce spoke, his rage subdued, but his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Yeah…" Peter nodded with stiff determination as he replied, he didn't want to argue anyway. He agreed wholeheartedly. He was pissed.

After a quick change into some training gear, Peter entered the training room, expecting to only see Bruce. Instead, he saw Cassandra, Tim and Damian all sat on their knees to the side of the room while Bruce, also in more casual training gear, was equipping big mechanical gauntlets to match the peculiar mechanical boots he was wearing.

"What's this? Are they to match my strength?" Peter asked as he eyed the peculiar devices.

"In a way…" Bruce said with a slight smile as he pressed his gloved hand to the side, and it connected to the wall. He began pulling himself up the wall and standing on its surface as the boots connected with its vertical surface, "Experimental Wayne-tech, what do you think?"

"I think you're stealing my thing…" Peter said with a soft smile as he leapt onto to wall and stood to face Bruce.

"Black Bat and Robin agreed, you're fighting style is unique, impressive. I want you to teach us, Peter."

Peter smiled before, registering Bruce's words and looking 'up' at Cass, "Wait, Black Bat? You changed your name, why?"

Cass' smile was subtle, but nonetheless present, as she looked to Peter and then to Bruce, "I'm not an Orphan." She said while softly grinning at her adopted father, "I'm Cassandra Wayne."

She was already 'adopted' in the legal sense, but after her meeting with Shiva, Cass spoke to Bruce, and she wanted to take the final step into officially joining the Wayne family. Changing both her legal name, which Barbara was organising as they spoke, and her costume and name while on patrol.

Bruce smiled at her for a moment before turning to Peter, who seemed to be very heart warmed by the wholesome display, "Now, Peter... You didn't come here to talk. Let's train. I'm first, then Cassandra, Tim, then Damian… Show us the Way of the Spider…" Bruce added a slight smirk on the last word as he took a bow, "Master."

Peter responded with a smile before he too bowed and the two of them began sparring.

New York - Queens

Parker Residence

Peter woke from his utterly blank sleep with a start as he felt something move in his room, his Spider-Sense eerily silent, 'Otto!' He thought as he tensed, ready to attack at moment's notice when he saw a shadow move in the corner.

"Peter Parker. Please refrain from your attack, I come not as an adversary but as a friend…" The voice was deep, calming, ethereal… Endless.

The man in the shadows stepped out from the dark, he was tall, skinny, and bone-white pale. He was dressed in a black hoodie with black jeans. His black hair punctuating his sheet white skin. His eyes were deep and black, as though a void, save for the middles which were distant silver stars.

Either the man had the frequency to negate Peter's Spider-Sense, or he was telling the truth, "Your Spider-Sense is active, Peter. Speak to the Other inside you, they will confirm that I am not lying…"

He was telling the truth; Peter felt a tickle from his Slimbiote in his subconscious, "Who are you?" Peter asked, still on edge, just because he meant no threat right now, didn't mean he wasn't one.

"I am Morpheus, Lord of the Dreaming… But you may call me Dream." The man spoke.

"Hi… I'm Peter… Man of the Spiders… You can call me Spider-Man… Why are you in my room? Dream." Peter spoke, his tone still on edge and mildly hostile.

"You have slept many times in this world Peter, but you have not dreamt once… Do you realise that?" Morpheus' voice rhythmically cascaded over Peter, as if he was being softly carried over a calm sea on his bed.

"I'd noticed… Yeah. Not really been a top priority for me. Seems pretty unimportant compared to everything else going on right now, frankly." Peter didn't know why, but he felt his hostility waning, as if there was no need for it at all in the first place.

Morpheus regarded Peter with intense, starry, eyes, "I disagree."

"I'm not surprised. I mean I imagine a guy who calls himself 'Dream' is pretty invested in the whole concept." Peter felt calmed somehow, he felt the Slimbiote's soothing presence as it seemed… Content?

"I am more than merely invested, Peter… I am Dream. I was birthed when the first living thing was capable of dreams, and I will be here until the last enters its final slumber…" His meaning was absolutely clear, Peter felt no need to argue, he was telling the truth.

"You are, aren't you? So why are you here?" Peter asked, rubbing some of the sleep from his eyes as overwhelming understanding washed over him.

It felt to Peter as if he had always known of Dream and had merely forgotten, as though knowledge always within him. All of sudden and always, Peter knew that Morpheus was one of the Endless. Beings whose existence is a constant in the multiverse. Omniscient, living, manifestations of the abstract ideas they are named after. He is the embodiment of Dreams. He always has been, and he always will be. He is Endless.

Morpheus continued, "Because you do not exist, Peter. You and the others from your world, you are not part of this earth's story… Nor are you part of any of the world's within this reality… This multiverse. Do you understand the implications that has on all of creation?" The weight of Dream's words were felt intensely even though his tone never changed.

Peter sighed guiltily before responding, "Not good, I take it?"

"I have no idea." There was a matter-of-factness in his tone that slightly comforted Peter, "Neither do any of my siblings…" He still spoke bluntly, almost sounding uncaring at the catastrophic implications, "I believe you are aware there are only fifty-two unique realities in this strand of creation...?"

"So, I heard, though it doesn't make any sense…"

"That is because you are from an entirely separate web of creation, one that does not adhere to our rules… Your existence here has no determined path. Destiny is being written, deleted and rewritten every passing moment, much to my brother's dismay… You, and your dimensional ilk, cracked the barrier between multiverses. That is something even Destiny could not predict…"

"So, you want me gone? To fix Destiny?" Peter said, he knew that wasn't what Dream was here for though, nonetheless the question was asked as he felt it needed to be asked.

Dream smiled a fraction, he even chuckled softly at that remark. It was an unnerving, grating, uncomfortable noise. This being did not laugh often and it was evident by his clear lack of practice in his very, very long existence.

The laughter ceased all of a sudden, immediately killing any levity in the moment, "I have no care for my brother's woes. He will speak to you in time, or he will ignore you entirely. It does not matter… No, I am here to offer you a gift. It is your birthday is it not?"

"I- Yes, it is… Kind of. The other version of me, it's his birthday…" Peter spoke, slight shame in his voice, it was going to be a day of complex emotions for everyone.

"Yes… But it is also yours… Tell me, how long have you been here?"

"I—Two weeks…" He spoke as if he doubted the timeframe despite the fact, it was in no way up for debate.

"And what was the date when you left your home world…?"

Peter thought for a moment as he did the math. It was Saturday the second of April in his old New York. And it was Saturday the second of December when he arrived in Gotham. Two weeks had passed, it was the sixteenth today, of both months. It was both the other Peter's birthday, and his. He hadn't realised. Today he turned twenty, not just legally, but actually.

"Holy crap." The words hopped from his lips entirely of their own will.

Dream kept a nonchalant stare fixed on Peter as he saw the mental hoops he was going through, watching the human as his eyes widening as realisation set in. Dream continued, "I allow you passage into my realm. From today, until your last in this world should that time come… You and the Other inside you. Your dreamless sleeps are over… Should you wish to accept that is."

"I- I accept…" Peter spoke, he wanted to dream again, even if it meant having the nightmares once more.

His nights had been devoid of any reflection, any remorse or joy… His sleeps had been encompassed by stark emptiness, a baron depth with no thought or feeling. He wanted to feel again, to experience the joy of dreams. To feel the clawing of pain… Even if it meant seeing Norman's sick face while he slept yet again, he needed to dream. He could not allow the mercy from Osborne's absence to make him complacent in his mindless rests.

Dream's voice was soft as he spoke, "Then I shall see you when you sleep, Peter. Should you wish to visit my home, you will be welcome. Sleep well. I will take my leave."

Peter could feel the beginnings of sleep grabbing him gently, but he pushed them back as he asked one last question, "Wait… Before you go… Uncle Ben, Teresas, this world's May… The other me. How do they exist here if I'm not supposed to here at all?"

Dream smiled widely, the immortal being appeared fascinated, it was a very disconcerting sight to behold, "That I cannot answer for I do not know. Perhaps they were a gift as well… One from something beyond even the Endless… Dream well, Peter Parker…"

Peter's eyes grew heavy as he fell gently back into his pillow, sleep taking him as he rested well. A slumber of happy, inconsequential adventures delighted his night.

When he awoke, he felt as if his night visitor, was merely an extension of his dreams. Their blurry visage seeming to him as only images of his subconscious, its way of telling him his dreamless sleeps were over. That it had adjusted to his new home now and was able to provide thoughts to his sleep once more.

The Other inside him knew the truth, but it allowed Peter his misconception, it brought him peace.

What was definitely true to Peter, however, was the realisation of the date. It was his birthday. He left his room and slowly descended into the living room; it was going to be a confusing day.

It was only his second weekend with the Parkers, and already emotions were going to be tested. Peter's birthday was a day of remembrance for Ben and Teresa, they had their little rituals. And now, he was here.

He had asked if it would be easier for him to come on Sunday instead, but both Ben and Terri insisted he still come. Though an agreement was made for him to not have any gifts until his actual birthday in April. But now Peter realised, it was still April… In a sense.

He decide not to bring it up regardless, he had his life, a family… Several families now. He didn't need any more gifts.

He entered the kitchen as a delicious waft of bacon and eggs hit his noise, Ben was finishing up breakfast, "Hey, Peter. You're just in time! How'd ya' take your eggs?"

"However, you're doing them, Uncle Ben! It smells great." Peter replied as he took a seat at his normal, relative to his own world, seat at the table, opposite Teresa.

"Thanks, sport. Won't be long so take a seat…" Ben replied as he turned down the heat on the hob slightly.

"Morning, Pe—" She stopped as she looked up from her phone and saw where he was about to sit, he paused as he noticed her gaze.

"Wha—" He realised what may be the problem, "Was this where he sat?"

She smiled slightly with a twinge of pain as she nodded back, "Err… Yeah. It's fine, really you can sit there…"

"No. No it's no stress, I'll go somewhere else." Peter said with a smile to his sister.

"You don—"

"Terri, it's fine… Really. I understand. You don't need to justify yourself to me, especially not today. If that's his seat, it's his seat." He said as he moved to the seat adjacent to it at the head of the table.

Teresa just smiled at him gratefully as he understood her hesitation and watched him move before going to speak again, Ben's voice cut her off as he spoke, "Actually, Pete. That's my seat…"

"Right. Right. Yeah of course it is…" He said, it was Ben's old seat back home too, so that made sense.

He pointed to the chair at the opposite end, "Let me guess, that's May's seat...?"

Teresa nodded and replied, slightly sheepishly, "Yeah…"

"Cool. Cool… I'll go here then, unless there's any extended family I don't know about?" He replied as he moved back around the table and took the seat diagonally opposite Teresa, next to where his counterpart would have sat.

"No. No. There's good… Is that where one of your brothers would have sat?" She asked, with tempered curiosity.

"Actually, I think Ben did sit here once… Jess usually sits where you are now." Peter replied.

"Heh… Ben Reilly…" Ben was smiling to himself as he shook his head, remembering what Peter had told him of his clone sibling, how he took the name Ben from their uncle and Reilly from Aunt May, Reilly being her maiden name.

"So, the other one… Kaine? He'd go here." Teresa said out loud, vocalising her thoughts as she gestured to the seat next to her.

"Actually… I don't think Kaine has even been to the house yet… In fact, now that I think about it, I don't think that all four of us have ever even been in the same room at once…" Peter was thinking hard, his voice was quite cold with guilt when he realised that.

"Wow… That's like, really, really sad…" Teresa felt herself saying, sobered by the thought that Peter, although, he had siblings in a sense, never had a real familial bond with them outside of Jess.

"Yeah… I guess it is… It's different for Ben and Kaine though, I think it'd be pretty painful… All the memories… Clone siblings can be complicated…"

"Just like ones from other worlds…" Teresa added quietly, she meant no harm by the comment, she was just giving an aural communication of her thoughts.

"Yeah…" He nodded in agreement before continuing with his thought, "I know May would've loved to have all of us together at least once, but I guess it never happened… Me and Jess were talking about inviting them for Thanksgiving, but… Guess I won't make it for that…"

The mood went a bit glum for a moment as Ben set the table and took his seat, before he spoke, "Well Peter, they'll have their Thanksgiving, and we'll have ours… It's going to be hard, but they have each other and so do we… So, let's make do with the family we have."

Peter turned to Ben with a smile, Ben's paternal wisdom always seeming to take control of him at the right moments, "Yeah, you're right…"

"Of course, I am. I'm always right… Anyway, let's eat!" He said as he extended his hands to his sides with open palms raised, offering for Peter and Teresa to take them while he led grace.

Teresa took the hand as did Peter, the latter having to lean and reach slightly awkwardly to grip Ben's hand, eliciting a slight chuckle from Teresa as Peter smiled her in amusement. Both of them becoming silent and serious faced when Ben met them with a glare.

Although neither Terri or Peter shared his faith, Ben insisted they join him for grace, and he wouldn't allow any shenanigans during it.

Ben finished his morning prayer and all of them spoke, "Amen." Before beginning their breakfast.

"So, Pete, any plans for today?" Ben asked as they enjoyed their food as a family.

"Nothing much, bit of studying, a swing around town, stop a mugging, maybe save an old lady from a purse snatcher… The usual… What have you two got planned? Anything special for… You know."

Ben and Terri shared a quick look, "Actually, we're going to visit Peter and May… We were hoping you might want to come with?" ben spoke softly with kind eyes.

"I—Yeah. I'd love to… I didn't want to ask in case—"

Teresa cut him off, "No, no. We want you to come… If- If that's not too weird for you…?"

"Weird is a relative term for me, I've learnt to kinda' just go with the flow… But yeah, I'd like to come too…" Peter said with a subdued but genuine smile.

A moment of silence fell over the kitchen's dining area, smiles and averted gazes dotted about the room as no one really knew how to move on from the moment.

No one, except Ben, who finally spoke, "That's great, Peter… We'll make our way there after breakfast…"

After finishing their morning meal, they made their way to Harlem via the train. A quick bus ride later and they arrived at an all too familiar cemetery in the Northwest Harlem area, the same one where Ben Parker was buried in Peter's world.

Ben had with him two sets of flowers, peonies for May and roses for Peter. As they approached the graves, an overwhelming shudder of imposter syndrome berated Peter with brutal waves of self-doubt and guilt.

He stood weakly as Ben and Teresa took the last couple steps towards the graves; Peter and May had been buried next to each other. It was sickeningly uncanny, the exact spot where Ben was buried was his own grave and his surrogate mother's.

He felt like he might faint as all of the blood in his body seemed to stop flowing, his heart skipping so many beats it might as well not be pumping at all. Internally he was frantic, externally he was stone still, limply watching as Terri placed a small plastic cupcake, complete with candle, on Peter's gravestone.

Peter shakily turned his head and watched with impotent terror as Ben placed the peonies by May's grave and a surreal sensation struck him, his heart clenching suddenly as he saw the epitaph on May's grave, 'When you help someone, you help everyone.'

A buckshot of pain grabbed his heart, and he felt his stomach drop. He felt like he might throw up as he read the engraving; his May had said those exact words to him the day she discovered his secret.

The memory washed over him, it was an emotional exchange, fuelled by maternal concern and simultaneous pride. She saw Peter's doubt in himself, questioning whether anything he did as Spider-Man was even worth it.

May hugged him and held the moment after an emotional exchange full of tears from both of them, speaking past his shoulder, "You know, I saw our old neighbour Ruth the other day… Wanna' know what she told me?"

Peter's face momentarily lost its solemn nature and became one of confusion, "You mean, Mrs. Johannsen? From the Deli? What about her?"

May smiled as she stepped back from Peter, grabbing his hand as she spoke, cupping his cheek lovingly with the other, wiping away the last dregs of a tear in his eye, "She told me that her son had ran into the road earlier that day. He was moments away from being hit by a car… Until Spider-Man swooped in and saved him at the last second. Not even stopping for a word of thanks, he just warned her boy to 'look both ways next time!' And off he went swinging away..."

Peter squinted for a moment as he tried to remember, "That was Mrs. Johannsen's son? I didn't even know she had kids…"

"I know you didn't, Peter… But who his mother was didn't matter to you, did it? You just saw a boy in trouble and rushed in… You didn't even think twice. That wasn't the first story I've heard like that either… Not by a long shot. The people at F.E.A.S.T. are always talking about either being saved by Spider-Man or knowing someone who has been. Their friends, their family… Even Joyce's cat…"

"Oh god, don't remind me. Corporal Mittens is always climbing trees he can't get down from…"

She smiled as she shook her head in slight disbelief at Peter's comment, "And Spider-Man is there. You're there. Even if it's just to help a cat that's stuck in a tree… No matter how small: When you help someone, you help everyone. And you've helped so many people Peter, don't you ever doubt yourself!"

"Thanks, Aunt May… I'm sorry, I kept this from you for so long… I- I should've told you… But I didn't want you to worry." He swallowed a heavy lump in his throat as he spoke between choked tears.

"Peter, I am worried sick. All the battles Spider-Man has fought? Finding out that it was you the whole time… What happened to Gwen…" A dark flicker of pain and understanding came over her eyes for a moment before she shook it away and continued, "Peter, I am terrified. And I'm going to be worrying about you every time I know you're out there… So, from now on, you are going to call me. Every. Single. Night! Do you understand me, Peter?"

Peter thoughts lingered on Gwen for second before he looked back at his adopted mother and spoke, "May… I'm starting college soon; I can't be calling every night…" Peter rolled his eyes slightly with an exasperated but understanding smile.

"A text then! Something… I don't care how old you are. Even when you're pushing forty and you're married with kids. If you still wear that costume, you are going to tell me you're okay. Every night. Capiche?"

"Capiche." He nodded back.

They hugged once more, May gripping her nephew so tight she was suffocating him slightly even despite his strength, before she spoke again, "I am so proud of you, Peter. Ben would be too. Now…" She pulled away as she fought to end the flow of her own tears, "What would you like for dinner?"

Peter was pulled from his ruminations by a slight tug on his sleeve, Teresa was looking at him with concern, "You, okay? You totally zoned out for a moment, Pete."

"I- I miss May… And seeing this… I-I don't know if I'll ever see her again… It's… I'm sorry, I'm being stupid. Today isn't about me."

Ben and Terri shared a look for a moment, "You sure you're okay with this, Peter? You can sit this out if you need to, we understand." Ben's voice was diplomatic as he offered Peter a life raft.

"I-I think I do. I'm sorry. I'm not ready for this just yet… I thought I was, sorry… I'm gonna' go over there… You guys continue, take all the time you need…" He gestured to a bench far off in the distance and seeing their understanding nods he began walking sheepishly away.

He felt like dirt while he sat on the bench, continuing to wallow in his thoughts of home, feeling guilty for taking away from Ben and Terri's moment with their loved ones. He looked up and watched their tiny forms in the distance as they placed a blanket on the cold wet ground in front of Peter and May's graves and sat themselves down.

He could hear the muffled sounds of talking, but it was too far for even his superior hearing to pick up on, not that he would try to listen in anyway. He felt the cold chill of the wind biting at him as the few birds that were still out were singing their song above, their soft coos and the rhythmic flap of their wings lulling Peter further into yet another dissociative state.

Tonight, would mark two whole weeks of his life spent in this world, and the pain of knowing his own world is years, potentially decades, away from being reached gnawed at him again. It was his grief. While Terri and Ben marked Peter's birthday and felt theirs, Peter took the time to mourn himself.

He still hadn't properly mourned, only allowing the pain out in bursts with his earlier breakdowns. But now, he was passed his denial and reached acceptance, so the pain was different. No longer was it a battering of absolute shock, hurt and anger, it was a dull ache of sobriety and piteous sorrow.

It was a unique kind of grief, unlike Ben and Terri's. They mourned the loved ones they lost; Peter mourned his own. He was lost. Everyone he knew, his friends, family, teammates, all of them. They would be grieving him, but here he was, alive.

It was Peter's birthday. Peter was dead. It was his birthday. He was alive. But to everyone back in his own world, it was Peter's birthday. And Peter was dead. He was dead.

'But I'm alive!', Why couldn't he just shout that loud enough for them to hear? Why must he live his life knowing that everyone he loved wouldn't even know that he was?

He had a life here now, friends, families, a job, a purpose. What if he found love again? What if the years continued? Would he settle down? Decide to stay even after a portal was made and visit his home world on weekends? That'd be nice… But still, even if he could never go back, if a portal was impossible, he just wished he could tell them he was okay.

'Even when you're pushing forty and you're married with kids. If you still wear that costume, you are going to tell me you're okay. Every night. Capiche?' May's words rang through his mind, and he felt their weight crushing his heart as it struggled to beat against them, 'I am okay, May. I just can't tell you that…'

May, Jess, Miles, MJ… Everyone… They were grieving a soul that was still living, a heart that was still beating, and eyes that could still cry tears… He let his eyes serve their purpose, he allowed himself to cry.

The tears fell, but they were not profuse. They just progressively trickled down his cheeks in a steady flow. The warm, salty water massaging his face as they rolled down his cheek, punctuating themselves against the cutting chill of the winter's day.

His breathing was heavy, he could feel the bittersweet warmth of his heartbreak resting in his chest as he just sat there, thinking, remembering, mourning and revelling in every moment he spent with his loved ones. His rhythmic crying became slightly faster as his grief became more intense each moment.

They all sat in their positions of grief for a long while, Peter on his bench and Ben and Terri at the graves. Peter drew his head back up as he saw a flicker of movement in his peripheral, their forms were becoming bigger as they were walking towards Peter.

They saw his face and they knew that he too had been mourning, today was a painful day for all of them.

Ben smiled at Peter, "You ready to go, son?"

Peter hesitated before a sense of resolve struck him, asking sheepishly despite his resolution, "Actually, if it's okay with you two… You mind if I have a quick word with them…? I won't be long, I promise."

Again, Ben and Terri looked to each other with understanding, Ben waiting for an affirmative nod from his niece before he spoke, "Sure, Peter… Take all the time you need."

He once again approached the graves, more self-assured this time. He stopped at the headstones and took a deep breath before looking to May's grave, "Hey, May… I know your not my May, but still… If you were half the woman she is, you were the best mom a kid could ask for… So even if I don't know you I just wanna' say… Thanks for looking out for Terri and this guy here…" He nodded to his own grave, it was a surreal sensation, "They were lucky to have you… I wi- I wish I could have met you…"

Peter turned to face the other grave, his grave, he wondered if there was one for him back home and if it looked like this, "Peter… First of all, happy birthday! You know, I did the math last night, it's my birthday too… Weird right? You don't have to say it back though…"

The grave had had Peter's year of death chiselled out on the basis that he was legally no longer dead, but after Bruce pulled some strings, the grave was allowed to be kept next to May's, Ready for when 'Peter' eventually did die. It was an odd compromise to be asked to make, but Ben and Teresa made it anyway. They knew when they lost Peter, it was the same date they lost May, they didn't need an epitaph to remind them of that.

Peter breathed out a very heavy sigh as he prepared himself to continue, "I-I feel bad, I didn't get you a gift, or anything… But I wanna' say thank you, because even if you didn't mean to, you already gave me the greatest gift in the world- worlds… The best dad and sister ever… And hey, other than Jess, I didn't even have one of those so that was kinda' a freebie, thanks…

"God… I'm so bad at this… You know, I wish you were alive still… I mean I guess that's kinda' the least I could say after I basically stole your life… Sorry, about that by the way… And thanks for letting me keep it, it's not a bad life when I think about it… I would've loved to have met you… It feels weird to say this, but I do love you. And I don't even need to have met you to know that… Wanna' know why? Cause' I love Ben and Terri, so much already, and they love you…

"Heh... If you were alive, I guess we would have been like twins, eh Pete? Speaking of… I don't know if you two are looking down from wherever you are, or anything … But if you are, if you could maybe try to break the barrier between multiverses and like check on Ben, Kaine and Jess, that'd be cool… I'd appreciate that a lot…

"May too while you're at it… Maybe Miles and MJ if you get the time… Oh and Reed, Sue and Ben… Ava, Danny, Lu- You know what, next time I'll just bring a list. You both would've loved them… All of them… Even Kaine… Cause' I- I do… Wow… That's the first time I've said that out loud… Guess I must have meant it, huh? I really do love that hot-headed jackass…"

He wiped away the tears that had once more began to fall, before he cleared his throat and finished his conversation with the two souls that were hopefully connected to the headstones, "I'll try to visit sometime… Even if I'm just on my own… You two deserve that… I hope I don't become annoying… But hey, I'm family now, so you're stuck with me! Sorry not sorry. But for real… Thanks and goodbye guys…"

He softly placed his hand on both of the graves one after the other with heavy eyes, his lips being pulled into a painful upward curl of sincere gratitude and sorrow. He dried his face with his sleeve and began a slow march back to Ben and Terri who were now sat on the same bench, chatting to each other. Their faces communicating genuine happiness with a syrup of bittersweet melancholy drizzled over top as they reminisced to one another.

As Peter's slow, heavy, squelching footsteps trapsed through the wet muddy grass he eventually reached the other two. They hushed their tones and brought their trip through memory lane to an end as they both turned to Peter with soft looks of empathy.

"Ready to go?" Ben asked with an inviting warmth, one that dispelled any floating notions of imposter syndrome that were still fluttering their way through Peter's mind.

"Yeah… Thanks for letting me do that." Peter said as he felt himself fighting his arm as it attempted to rub the back of his neck.

Teresa caught his gaze as she looked at him with earnest curiosity, "How was it? Did it help?"

Peter felt the warmth behind his eyes return as they moistened in response to Terri's question, "Y-Yeah… It did." He choked out as he blinked away his budding tears before they could manifest.

There was a warm blanket of silence draped over all three of them on the bus ride back. Each of them allowing themselves to think deeply as they felt the comfort of each other's presence. Ben absentmindedly stared at the floor as he thought of his high school years, smiling softly as he remembered the dork he once was, falling over himself, constantly trying to impress one special someone, Maybelle Reilly.

Teresa stared at her hands as her fingers danced around each other, humming so softly to herself that it was almost silent. She thought about her childhood, playing videogames with her brother in winter, running around the garden in summer and the near daily bickering and yelling at each other from across the room over completely unimportant things…

Peter watched as the streets moved past them, he was staring wistfully at the life all around them. Smiles and sneers at passersby, casual chatter, people playing basketball on the outdoor courts despite the chill of winter, someone on a weekend shift having a cigarette break in an alley, a father comforting his daughter after a pigeon defecated on her coat. Peter smiled at all of it as he rested his head on the, slightly grimy, bus window. This was his home, this was New York…

The next day Spider-Man, back in his classic costume, was sat on the ledge of a building, his mask hallway up his face as he took another bite of the hot dog in his hand, casually casting his gaze across the skyline looking out for trouble.

"I don't see why I have to wear a mask as well…" Terri complained as she too took a bite of her hot dog, accidentally, nudging Peter's newer, black, mask with its bun and smearing a small glob of mustard on it.

She was only wearing the mask alongside some non-descript civilian clothes, she was too small for the full costume, besides, it was Peter's costume. If she wants, she can make her own…

"If you wanna' come out on patrol with me, you have to keep your identity secret… It's for you own safe—" He paused as he turned to her and saw the sauce on his new mask, "Ugh… Come on! Can you not get mustard all over my new costume?" he said as he placed his dog down and picked up a napkin, slightly pulling Terri's head towards him as he stretched the fabric and quickly began wiping away the sauce before it could stain…

"Hey! Careful. You trying to push me off the ledge here?" Terri said as she was jerked to the side, slightly pushing back against his chest.

Peter sighed as he saw it was a losing battle, he managed to clear some of it, but there'd still be a small yellow splodge on his mask until he could get it properly washed by Alfred, "How the hell have you managed to already stain my new mask? I fought a giant luchador with superstrength the other night, and it still came out less scathed than you eating a freaking hot dog!"

"Okay now your just being hyperbolic. The suit was not 'less scathed'! It was very scathed, you showed me remember? It had like cuts and tears all over it." Terri said as she continued to take another bite, immediately getting ketchup on the other side of the mask.

'I swear to god…. She's doing this on purpose to irk me…' He thought before reluctantly ignoring the second stain and talking, "Okay fine. But it's just been patched up and cleaned and now I have to wash it all over again! Also, did you just say hyperbolic? Unironically?"

"Oh, stop being a baby, it's just the mask. Make another and I'll keep this one if it bothers you that much... And yes, I did say hyperbolic… So what?"

Peter shook his head, 'Great… A teenage girl with the same grandiose vocab as Doc Ock… Is this hell?' Before he spoke, "I shouldn't have to make another mask. You should be more respectful of my mask that I graciously let you borrow…."

"Hey, if its such a big deal to you, I just won't wear the mask…" She said as her hand travelled to her face to remove it.

"No! Keep it on… Trust me… It's too dangerous otherwise…" Peter had paused his eating for the moment, placing his hot dog back down on a napkin next him once more.

"Fine… Fine. I trust you. I'll keep it on… But don't you think you're being a little paranoid?" She asked between bites as she brought her other hand back down to her side.

"Good. I'd rather be too careful than not careful enough…" He said rather morosely as he stared out into the distance.

His thoughts lingered on his grief for a moment before skipping on to more current worries. He knew the League of Shadows, and most likely the rest of the Light, were aware of Teresa and Ben. He had made his point to Deathstroke, and the assassin had given his word they would not move against them. But there was still a stretch of tension constantly tugging at his heart. His thoughts yanking it in painful directions as it skipped a beat, his stomach dropping every time he thought of what could happen if Deathstroke broke his promise.

He stared at the vents of the buildings ahead, watching the founts of steam rising gracefully from the rooftops, their upward trajectory being diagonalised by the wind. His worries calmed as he felt peace in watching the simple display.

Peter found this trick a few years back and used it a lot since; whenever he felt stressed he would focus his gaze on the steam vents of the New York skyline. Every time he felt weighed down by his memories, Peter liked to imagine he was one of those little clouds of steam, weightless and floating above the city. A simple swirl of fog, floating, spectating the world below. No worries, no stress, no power, no responsibility, not even gravity holding him down.

He did have worries though, he had stress. Gravity did control his body. He had power, and so did his choices. Responsibility kept him tethered to the ground; he couldn't forget that.

He needed to stay alert, focused, ready, for Ben and Terri's sake. He would meditate when he got home, just like Danny had showed him. This world, its New York and Gotham, needed him to be the best Spider-Man he could be just as his old New York did.

Teresa looked at his severe expression with concern for a moment before the heaviness was immediately lifted and replaced with one of shocked confusion. A pigeon shot past Peter with impressive speed and snatched his hotdog off the side of the building, carrying it haphazardly in its beak as it flew off into the distance.

"What the—Hey!" Peter was snapped out of his thoughts by the rush of wind next to him as his food was stolen. Watching helplessly with agitation as the winged thief made off with its bounty.

"Hah! Ohmigod!" Teresa managed to snort out between chuckles as she looked to Peter who was helplessly extending his arm after the bird, "You just got mugged by a pigeon!"

"Goddammit! Not again… Every fricking time…" Peter clenched his fist in slight agitation before turning to Teresa and holding his hand out expectantly, "Gimme the rest of your hot dog."

"No. Why? It's mine." Terri said as she leant further away from Peter as he half-tried to steal her food.

"It's your fault I was distracted…" He said as he shuffled along the ledge to get closer to her as she continued trying to lean even further away, extending her arm as far as possible as she giggled slightly from Peter's attempts at theft.

"Nuh-uh. You distracted yourself with your brooding… Besides, you have superpowers! Shouldn't your 'Spidey-Tingle' have sensed it, or whatever?" She replied as she shuffled along the ledge away from Peter while he continued pawing towards her.

He began chuckling back while leaning over 'trying' to snatch her food, again half-heartedly, he wasn't actually trying to steal it, "Pigeon's don't normally register… As… Threats…" Peter gave up his sentence, and his middling attempt at food snatchery as he watched Terri's next move with both awe and horror.

Wide eyed he stared, wrenching his arm back with disgust as Terri all but unhinged her jaw and shoved what was left of her hotdog (which was a hefty chunk) into her mouth, stuffing her cheeks full. Her move to dissuade Peter from any future grabs for her hotdog was successful for all the wrong reasons as he felt himself cringe at the site.

Terri, for her part, felt a beat of regret in the decision but stubbornly decided to commit to her bit. She was drooling slightly, struggling to chew the food that was far too big for her jaw to fully contain.

Peter spoke with grim fascination, unable to tear his eyes from Terri as she gorged her face with the hotdog, "Wow… That is both horrifying and impressive."

Teresa held her palm up towards Peter, urging him to stay silent as she physically struggled against the impulsive decision she had just made, eventually finding a reprieve as she managed to swallow the remainders of what was once, but no longer, solid food.

Gasping slightly for air she looked at Peter with her half mask, her red, watery eyes obscured by its lenses. All Teresa could see was Peter's lensed eyes looking at her, presumably as wide as they could possibly go while his mouth remained agape with distraught fascination.

"That is my superpower…" Teresa said with exasperated pride.

"You know what…? You keep the mask." Peter said, staring at the new splotches of crumbs, ketchup, grease and mustard that had joined the other stains.

Peter felt his head being jerked to the side intensely as he felt a ring in his Spider-Sense, the sounds finally catching up as he heard gunshots in the distance. Before even he, or Teresa, had realised he was on his feet, he'd pulled his mask down, and had jumped of the building in a graceful dive.

"Hey! Peter! Don't just leave me here!" Teresa called out before slamming her hand over her mouth.

Peter leapt of the building and begun a swing before immediately landing on the first wall in front of him, standing on its vertical face before pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance and jumping back to the roof he was just on.

"Now, 'Spider-Girl', what was rule number one?" He said as he offered his hand to her.

"No yelling names… Sorry… But you left me here!" She replied, sheepishly but with a tinge of defiance as she took her brother's hand and pulled herself to her feet and pulled the rest of her mask over her face.

"You're forgiven cause' you're right, I did. I'm sorry, too. I acted without thinking. Now, quickly, people could be in danger!" He said as he knelt down and waited for her to climb onto his back.

"You're forgiven too..." Terri jumped onto her brother's back before muttering with a dry sense of sarcasm, "Asshole."

Peter just nodded in acceptance of what was clearly an innocent mistake, he then shook his head and smirked as he heard her words before finally realising just how odd it really felt bringing his new younger sister on patrols with him, before once again leaping off the roof.

Seeing on his HUD that a silent alarm had been triggered in a bank a couple blocks away Peter swung quickly but cautiously to a rooftop before dropping off Teresa once more.

"Wait. I can't go in with you?" Teresa began to protest before feeling an overprotective glare land on her masked face from behind Peter's own.

"Seriously? No. I'm obviously not going to bring my seventeen-year-old sister into an active hostage situation… Just hang here and I'll back in a jiffy." He said before diving off the roof and swinging into a side alley next to the bank.

Teresa watched with mild frustration as he disappeared into an air vent on the side of the building, "That's what you said the last three crimes…" She muttered to herself before sighing and sitting on the roof, swing her legs petulantly.

She obviously understood why he wouldn't let her join him for the actual crime fighting, but she still felt the frustration at constantly being plonked several buildings away from the incidents while Peter leapt head on into the danger. It made her feel helpless, as if she was made of glass, not even being allowed close enough to see any of the action.

That's all she wanted. Not to be in Peter's way as he fought off muggers or bank robbers, but just to be able to watch him in action as he kicked some ass. She rested her head in her hand, harumphing slightly as she watched the midday weekend traffic going about their business.

"Feeling left out?" A feminine voice spoke from beside Teresa.

Terri started speaking without any conscious effort, "Yeah, little bi—" She finally realised she was answering the question of the disembodied voice before pausing with worry and turning.

Her worry turned to stunned disbelief as she immediately recognised the voice's owner who was floating beside her "Wait! What the fu-?!"

Author Notes:

[EDIT]

Starting to get a heavy feeling of imposter syndrome and burn out unfortunately, so I'm most likely going to take a little break from this for a while now. This isn't the first time I've done this and won't be the last.

Basically, my quick uploads recently have been due to a sort of ADHD hyperfixation for a bit and now I'm getting extremely burnt out and kind of starting to resent my own writing and think its awful and cringe...

I genuinely can't tell anymore if this story is actually any good, or even passable, or if I'm just getting too wrapped up in my own ideas to see the story's overwhelming flaws. Right now unfortunately, I'm starting to feel more and more like it's the latter and I don't think that's a healthy mindset to be having about my own work. I don't know whether or not that's true, but it's how I feel about it right now...

I will still continue writing/planning and going with the chapters, like I said, I have had this story mapped out for a while now and the chapters change as I go to fit more ideas in. But, I'm just going to hold off on uploading for a while so I can take some time to breathe...

It's funny how like within a day or two I can go from absolutely excited to upload and read reviews to absolutely despising my own work completely and doubting every single sentence I write. It's a crappy feeling and just leaves me hollow everyday as I wittle the hours away refreshing the 'My Account' page on FF and AO3 and not making any real progress on the story content.

Rereading the chapters and hating my own words while constantly noticing EVERY, SINGLE, LITTLE, grammar mistake and feeling like a failure for allowing myself to be so over eager. Looking at the clock and seeing I've wasted a day doing nothing but hate on empty words on a digital screen, words that I myself wrote, and yet, in no way do they resemble the story I wanted to tell. Dreaming about releasing the final chapters and everyone hating the ending while I just feel ashamed that the words on the page could in no way measure up, or do justice, to the awesome story I saw in my own imagination.

So I'm going to pause being a writer for a bit and go back to being a reader... Have a wander around at other works on these two sites and get a better idea of who I want to be as a writer from seeing how much better writers do it. :)

Btw for those of you who've been with this from the beginning you have my SINCEREST gratitude I love you all 3
Extra love for those who have left kind words and critiques on every chapter you've genuinely made this whole thing feel worth it and if it weren't for you guys I probably would have abandoned this whole fanfic thing all together.
And for any new readers just coming in you also have my genuine gratitude and love and I hope you've enjoyed 616161 Peter's journey so far, BIG things are coming his way I promise you.

So this message is just to say thanks everyone for reading or supporting this work and to say right now it is NOT abandoned. I just need to take a break until I can find the heart to enjoy it again...
Maybe it'll only be a few days and the next chapter will be out in a couple of weeks and I'll laugh about how over dramatic I was being, maybe it'll be longer... Who knows...?

In the meanwhile, I've started a TikTok page (same name as here), mostly to advertise this work but I'm thinking I may also use it to show progress and give ideas of where I'm at with chapter uploads...

Until next time,
Love you bye,
Fumble :)