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It’s another day, another battle, another multiverse related shenanigan.
AKA, just another day in the life of Spider-Man.
Peter has to admit that there are times that he misses the days where his biggest problems were a guy in a flying vulture suit and worrying about failing English class.
It’s a whole new world that he finds himself in now. His eyes have been opened to the multiverse and, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to shake it. It nips at his heels like a relentless dog.
It hasn’t been all bad though. After all, that’s how he met the other Peters. And more recently, it brought the Fantastic Four into his life.
They’ve been good assets to the city and a huge help when it comes to any space related issues. Better than all that though, they’ve become good friends. Especially Johnny Storm. And, despite a shaky first encounter, he and Johnny get along like a house on fire, pun intended.
But the downside is that they brought some of their universe’s pests with them. Like, for instance, the invasion of robots and their evil overlord now trying to overthrow Manhattan.
Mr. Fantastic calls them Doombots, named after their arch nemesis, Dr. Doom. They’re relentless little guys, much like their master, Reed tells them, but easy to take out. So much so that there’s no need for full Avenger’s backup. Just Peter and Sam come out for reinforcements.
“That’s 20 for me.” Peter says as he webs a Doombot to the pavement. The bot struggles against the webbing but stays stuck.
“30 over here.” Sam chirps over the coms. Peter can hear the ricochet of his shield. “31. Keep up, kid.”
“Could we keep the chatter down, please?” Reed asks sounding annoyed from where he’s stretched around a group of bots. He squeezes until the heads pop off.
“Eh, let them have some fun, stretch.” Ben grouses in between punches and Peter grins. “And 42.”
“Thank you, Ben.”
“Whatever, bug.”
Sue’s voice crackles through the coms next. Peter can’t see her but that’s kind of her thing. “Has anyone seen Johnny?”
“Not in minute.” Peter answers, sticking to the side of a building and scanning the skyline. No sooner then he get the words out of his mouth does a streak of fire flash by.
“I’m here.” Johnny says. “35, by the way, and I have a clear shot on Doom.”
Peter watches as Johnny arches down towards the street where Doom, an imposing figure covered in green robes and face covered in a metal mask, stands. Johnny throws a large fireball and it hits Doom in the chest, knocking him off his feet. His mask falls off, clattering onto the pavement.
“Got him!” Johnny crows.
Peter opens his mouth to celebrate with him when Doom stands up, face exposed, and turns around.
Peter’s heart falls to his feet, and possibly even right out of his body all together. He stares down at the man and feels like he’s been knocked into the astral place. His fingers slip and he falls onto the street with a graceless thud that he doesn’t even feel.
It’s a miracle that he even hears Sam say, “What the hell?” his voice full of shock and disbelief, over the roar in Peter’s head.
Because under Victor Von Doom’s mask is Tony Stark’s face.
Peter stares. He somehow manages to pull himself up onto his feet. He sways, suddenly feeling nauseous.
Doom stares back, his gaze holding nothing less than contempt. The warm eyes that used to crinkle at the edges at him across the lab when Peter cracked a joke, are now hard and cold. The mouth that used to smile at him and say, “Good job, kid.” is pinched down in what seems to be permanent frown.
But it’s still unmistakably Tony’s face.
“Mr. Stark -“ He hears himself say, sounding like a 16 year old again, a kid that he hasn’t been for a long time now.
His feet move forward on their own.
“Spider-Man,” Sam's voice cuts through the static in Peter’s head. “Stop. It’s -“ For a second Sam sounds as lost as Peter feels but then says in his Captain America voice, “Don’t engage, Spider-Man. That’s an order.”
And Peter wants to listen, he usually does. But it’s Tony.
How can he — he’s got to —
He takes another step.
“Torch, get Spider-Man out of here.”
No soon then Sam says it, Peter’s lifted up in the air up under his arms. He immediately twists in Johnny’s grip, craning to look behind him, to try and get sight of Tony again. But Doom has the mask back on already and the battle continues on without them.
Johnny grunts and wobbles in the air. “Pete, be still or you’re going to make me drop you.”
Somehow they make it the Baxter Building in one piece. Johnny flies them through the open window to the living room and Peter collapses as soon as Johnny lets go of him. He lands hard on his knees and rips off his mask. He tries to breathe but is only able to manage short painful pants.
Johnny crouches down beside him. He looks freaked out and his voice is full of alarm when he says, “Peter, what’s wrong? What’s going on? What the hell happened back there?”
Doom is — Tony was — He’s —
Peter tries to explain but nothing comes out of his mouth expect for a retch and —
He’s laying down on the couch.
He’s not sure how he got there but he knows he’s lost some time. He can hear Sam and Reed yelling at each other in the kitchen. He can’t understand what they’re saying though. Their words just fly over the back on the couch and right over his head.
Johnny is sitting by his hip, looking towards the kitchen with wide eyes, listening. Peter closes his. He’s sure Johnny will fill him in later.
Something cold and damp is placed on his forehead and soft fingers caress his check before checking his pulse.
Gotta be Sue, Peter thinks distantly and realizes that he’s fading again.
He doesn’t fight it. He willingly lets himself get pulled under.
A super villain dictator from another universe is wearing his old mentor’s face. Of course Peter doesn’t want to be anywhere near this. His body’s doing him a solid by shutting down.
If he’s honest though, Peter thinks before he goes completely under to the sweet nothingness of unconsciousness, he doesn’t know why he’s so surprised.
It’s pretty much just another day in the life of Spider-Man.