#peter two

The feeling of a lumpy couch prodding right into the middle of a back, the smell of leftover pizza wafting through the living space, the ominous tick... tick of the grandfather clock.

Welp, it was definitely Peter three's place.

The Spider-Brothers were prone to sleepovers, sleepovers that were more often unplanned than not, and since this particular sleepover was the usual, Peter three treated his esteemed guests to his leftovers and tons of TV, and his alternate selves didn't complain one bit as they enjoyed a night of trash reality television and a contest to see who could eat the most pizza and then hold himself upside down without puking.

Normal Spider-Man activities.

And when Peter three woke up on that couch, the sky still an inky blue that early in the morning, many things didn't surprise him, and one thing did.

The taste of toothpaste in his mouth was still lingering after he brushed his teeth the night prior after he puked everywhere. His back was killing him more than Peter two's did him as he had slept on his lumpy couch for hours under a crumpled soda can. And he had a headache because apparently staring at a TV all day didn't do great things to you at all. Three expected all of this.

What he didn't expect is to hear gut-wrenching screams.

He jolted up off the couch, trying not to slip with socks on a hardwood floor. He immediately pinpointed the screaming to be coming from Peter one's room, which Three called the guest room, but it never housed any other guest but One. Peter two was always made to sleep in Three's room.

So yeah, Peter one's room.

Anyways, the older brother instincts kicked in, which spidey sense had nothing on as Peter three was in Peter one's room in 0.4 seconds flat.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?? Why are you screaming? Why...????" Three, in his very frazzled and just as well meaning state, reached out to the younger, which he was happy to find looked physically safe, maybe just being a little paler then usual.

"Mister... no... he was... Mister Stark... don't go..." Peter one whimpered, a high, pleading sound as he reached out to the other Peter as well, seemingly desperate for something that the elder didn't know. Already, three felt hopeless.

"Hey, hey..." Three repeated, feeling himself cringe on the inside as he tried to find a better word to say then just "hey" over and over.

"It's okay. I won't go. I'm sorry, buddy. Mister Stark isn't here right now. But I'm here, okay? Peter three's here, and I'm not going anywhere." Three promised, clasping his little brother's hands, giving them a gentle squeeze that he prayed was reassuring.

But the younger boy's eyes were still welled up, and Peter three could already hear the soft sobs ready to flow out of his little brother. He started to panic.

"Okay! Okay! I-I'll get two, alright? Nightmare? It was a nightmare, right?" Peter one frantically nodded in response to three's question.

"Yeah, yeah, right! It's okay, bud. He'll know what to do!" And at that, Peter three scrambled back out of the room, an almost childish fear, the need for someone older and wiser, grappled at his chest. "Peter two!?" Three called as he ran to the room where the eldest brother was made to reside at his house, his stomach dropping to find it empty.

"Okay... he must be in the bathroom." Three whispered reassuringly to himself, dashing off to the room's bathroom and barging in without knocking like he always did. Finding it empty, too.

Great, so this means Peter two has gone missing, and Peter one is talking about dead people. Just that Parker luck.

Three stumbled out of his room with an uneasy hum, licking his lips and pacing around in a little circle as he thought of his next move, which he didn't have to think for for long due to in the darkness, he spotted a small note covered in sharply scrawled, but still neat handwriting.

The oldest spidey. The only person in the world that would leave a note in a house full of seemingly sleeping brothers to say where he's gone off too at three in the morning.

Peter three grabbed up the note like it was ancient scripture, his eyes flying over the text.

Said note stated as follows:

Hey, whoever kiddo who's reading this! Police thing came in, bank robbery down the road, don't swing after me, you guys just rest! I'll be back in the morning!

Love ya!

-The best biggest brother, Peter two!

Two would be out until morning. Parker luck once again, fantastic, and I was only joking before.

And as much as Peter would have liked to think about how much this sucks and how much he wanted his big brother, this wasn't the time to turn bitter when his little brother needed him.

So, swiftly, he escorted himself back to Peter one's room. Finding him huddled under the covers, tears streaming down his face.

"Hey..." Peter three whispered gently, cringing as he said the dreaded word yet again. "Yeah, two isn't here. He's out doing work and stuff. But I'm here. So tell me about this dream." Peter settled himself next to his little brother, careful to be mindful of his space, which he didn't actually need to be as one threw himself on top of him as soon as he was in arms reach.

"It's the ones about Mysterio again." One mumbled into his big brother's shoulder, shuffling. "The ones just like his illusions. It felt so real." Three could feel the boy physically shudder against his body. He placed a tentative hand on one's back, rubbing up and down.

"But they're not. That's what you gotta remember, bud. They're just stupid dreams, and they aren't real." Peter three tried to soothe his little brother. "Even though they feel really, really real at the time."

Three rested his cheek slowly on top of his little brother's head, feeling his own breath even out and slow at the touch. He reminded himself that it was fine, One just had a nightmare. They were both going to be so fine.

So Peter three rocked and cradled, wiped at tears, and hummed until the kid was calm. Three really didn't wanna ruin it, but in the back of his mind, a voice nagged him, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

"Hey, bud, when you woke up... you were talking about Tony. What was that all about?" Peter asked slowly, hoping he didn't make things worse after he seemingly succeeded in keeping One from freaking out for a good ten minutes.

Peter one's jaw visibly clenched at the question, but before Peter three could go off and say he didn't have to answer if he didn't want to, one answered.

"I just wanted him. He just got it, y'know? And you guys get it so well too, don't get me wrong, I love you guys. But I just..."

"Miss him?" Three finished. One nodded.

"Yeah. I miss him."

"Well, let's talk about him." Three smiled, an open invitation for One to talk about his hero.

"Pfft..." One let out a wek laugh. "I'm pretty sure you and two have heard everything I can tell you about Mister Stark. I mean, it's not like I even knew him for long-"

"Don't care, just tell it all to me, again, just to make sure I didn't miss anything the first two times." Peter three cut him off, looking expectant now.

With a few more, "Are you sures," Peter one got started on his rendition of the Tony Stark life story. Damn, Three thought, he should definitely make a documentary with all he knew. His brothers would watch it if no one else did.

Also, by the time he hit the MIT days, One was passed out, and so was Three.

Nightmares, zero, big bros, one.

"Boys! I'm home!" Peter two called out later that morning, a box of donouts in his hands as he climbed through the window, pulling it shut with a web and setting the box on the table.

"I got breakfast!" He called again, knowing the mention of breakfast, or any food for that matter, made his overly fast metabolism yielding little brothers come running from whatever corner of the house or universe they were in, so he was surprised when they DIDN'T come running.

"Boys?" The eldest spider brother called before hearing some loud snores from One's room and, with a fond smile, decided to start there.

When he opened the door, he found his two little brothers tangled up in a pile of sheets and limbs, completely knocked out. Peter two instantly went fumbling for his shitty broken phone, snapping a few pictures. How he wished he could get up there with them but he was still musky from the nights events. Damn he needed a shower.

But still he found himself leaning against the doorway, not moving for that shower.

May God, or the Gods, Two has now learned from one there is a whole hell of a lot of them, bless these kids so they don't have to suffer so much.

That's what two thought as he stood there, watching over his brothers, now sleeping peacefully.