— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 —

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THE WORLD WAS A KALEIDOSCOPE OF COLOR. And it remained that way for several minutes as Peter's eyes shot wide open. His ears rang, but fading like a distant memory he could still hear the events of the previous day. He was catatonic. Frozen in place as the images of those memories flashed across his mind.

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"She told me that with great power..."

"...Comes great responsibility."

"Wait, what? How do you know that?"

"Uncle Ben said it."

"The day he died. Maybe she
didn't die for nothing, Peter."

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"I lost... I lost Gwen, my, um, she was my MJ.
I couldn't save her. I'm never gonna be able to
forgive myself for that. But I carried on—tried
to, tried to keep going, tried to be the Friendly
Neighborhood Spider-Man because I know that's
what she would have wanted. But, at some point
I just, I stopped pulling my punches. I got rageful.
I got bitter. I just don't want you to end up like...
like me."

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"Hey... what are like, some
of the craziest villains that
you guys have fought?"

"Seems you've met some of them."

"That's a good question."

"I fought a... an alien made
out of black goo once."

"No way! I fought an alien,
too. On Earth and in space."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he was purple."

"I wanna fight an alien..."

"I'm, I'm still like... that you
fought an alien, in space."

"I'm lame compared to—like,
I fought a Russian guy in a
like a rhinoceros machine."

"Hey, can we rewind it back to the
'I'm lame' part? 'Cause, you are not."

"Aw, thanks. No, yeah.
I appreciate it, I'm not
saying I'm lame."

"But it's just the self-talk maybe we should,
you know... 'cause you're... you're amazing.
Just to take it in for a minute."

"Yeah yeah yeah.
I can take it in"

"You... you are amazing."

"I guess I am."

"You are amazing."

"Thank you."

"Will you say it?"

"No, I kinda needed to
hear that. Thank you."

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"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay... Are you okay?"

« 🕸️ »

"You have someone?"

"No. I got no time for, uh, Peter
Parker stuff, y'know. Do you?"

"Uh, it's a little... complicated."

"No, I understand. I guess it's just
not in the cards for guys like us."

"Well... I wouldn't give up. Took
a while, but we made it work."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, me and... MJ."

« 🕸️ »

"PETER!"

The shouting of his name snapped him out of his psychedelic trance. Peter blinked half a dozen times, shaking his head to clear the fog, before his gaze finally focused on the girl standing in the doorway of his bedroom.

"I did knock," Amelia insisted as she noticed his look of inconvenienced disapproval.

"Right..." Peter's reply lingered as he looked around the room. Everything was just as he'd left it, and he was beginning to question what had been real and what had been a dream. "What time is it?"

"Noon," Amelia answered. His cousin stepped into the room, looking both ways in the hall before closing the door. "Mom was starting to worry that you were sick over something. And it's not like I could tell her that you were exhausted from traveling the multiverse."

"So it wasn't a dream," Peter muttered to himself under his breath.

"Yeah," Amelia scoffed. "And I woke up with the bruises to prove it. Thankfully it wasn't anything a little concealer couldn't fix."

"Mel..." Peter paused, eyeing the door before focusing again on his cousin, "we were gone at least two days."

Amelia shrugged. "It's like no time has passed."

"How is that possible?" Peter asked.

"You're the genius when it comes to this stuff, Pete" Amelia retorted. "True, I could engineer a suit that mimics that abilities of a spider but when it comes to the mysteries of the universe I'm clueless. I didn't even believe your theories about an existing multiverse until I was physically transported to one myself."

Peter turned his head, looking out the window at the limited view of New York that his window provided. "You think they'll be alright?"

Amelia walked across the room to sit on the edge of the bed beside him. "They're strong kids... besides, they're us. It's not gonna be easy, but they'll be alright."

"I can feel the memories fading," Peter admitted.

"Me too..."

"Where do we even go from here?" Peter asked. "With everything we know..."

"Well you could start by walking into the kitchen," Amelia replied. Her lips tugged back into a coy smirk as she teased her cousin. "Mom would love some proof that you're actually alive. Apparently I wasn't very convincing."

Peter laughed, shaking his head. "How are you actually the worst sidekick?"

"Sidekick?" Amelia gasped with insult. "The Ivory Spider is no one's sidekick."

"Uh huh," Peter sarcastically agreed, eyeing the newspaper tacked to his wall that claimed otherwise. The Bugle had been going on about the two of them for months. Only a couple of Jameson's theories weren't entirely ludicrous and those were the articles that wound up on his wall.

"Last month they claimed we were lovers," Amelia rebutted then stuck out her tongue with disgust. "The Bugle's not exactly a beacon of truth. And the next time you even suggest such a source I'm gonna start looking for signs of brain damage."

"Alright. Alright." Peter waved away her comment, the end of a laugh creeping up his throat as he urged his cousin out of the room. "I'll be down in a few. Just keep May preoccupied for a few minutes while I clean myself up."

"A smart idea," Amelia agreed. With a single finger she gestured to his face, circling the left eye. "You've got a nice shiner that you should cover up if you don't want Mom on your back."

"Thank you for the tip, I'll handle it from here," Peter said as he rose from the bed and opened his door. The implication clearly wasn't enough. His cousin apparently needed to physically be shown the exit. She rolled her eyes, but left without a fight. Only after he was alone, did Peter release the breath he'd been holding back. His feet slowly gave out as his back slid down against the wood while his hands rubbed the last remnants of the multiverse from his vision.

He wasn't going insane. He merely felt like it. He'd lived through the past two days, tampering with the delicate strings of someone else's life. It seemed that it had partially been his own fault as those deemed villains in his own world had been dragged to another... destroying the life of his counterpart. And the boy still had the strength to choose life. That boy chose to save those that even he, himself, couldn't find the strength to redeem. The strength for forgiveness that still eluded him.

He could still see the girl, MJ, falling. The world had paused, moving in slow-motion as it taunted him. The girl's hair flickered between her natural color and a brighter blonde. He swore her eyes had turned green for a second. The second that he wasn't sure whether another had slipped from his grasp, or that the weight in his arms was actually present. It was the reason he couldn't bring himself to say a name when verifying that she wasn't hurt. Because he knew—he knew that if he tried to ask anything else, he would break down. He'd say the name that had felt like a cold, uncaring kiss of death across his lips. He would've called her Gwen. And then the moment passed. There was no Gwen, only the other Peter's MJ in his arms. It wasn't fair... knowing that he was capable of saving her. But he wouldn't change a thing. He'd never wish anyone to endure something quite so painful as the taste of love only for it to be stripped away until only a remnant of a memory remained.

He could still feel the warm tears that slid down the sides of his face as the breeze flitted past his ear offering solace.

"I forgive you."

It was freeing. It had felt like she'd been there, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he landed with the girl, unharmed. It was redemption, but even that feeling was fleeting now. He could feel himself forgetting about the portals and the magic and the time and the other Peters. They'd won—that much he knew—but it seemed that forgetting the victory was the cost...

Peter flipped on the light switch to the bathroom, jumping slightly at his haggard appearance. His eye was bloodshot. The surrounding skin: purple with green undertones. He gently pressed his fingers against his cheekbone, immediately wincing as he recoiled.

"Max got me good," he muttered only to himself, "or maybe it was the octopus..."

He did his best to clean himself up. But even if he'd attempted to cover up the bruise, no amount of concealer could naturally mute the vibrant hues. Satisfied, but displeased, he emerged from isolation and entered the kitchen. May immediately gasped.

"Peter, your eye!" She grabbed the sides of his face, trying to be gentle, but not gentle enough.

Peter winced and tried to pull away, but her concern kept him stuck in place. "I'm alright, really. I just fell out of bed and hit my head on the dresser."

"Your dresser that's across the room?" Amelia asked, her mouth full of Honey Nut Cheerios.

Peter shot her a look. Her response was a smug grin that indicated she didn't care as she discreetly flipped him off behind her mother's back. He'd have retaliated if May wasn't watching him so closely.

"I must have sleep-walked," Peter said between gritted teeth.

Amelia snickered. His cousin really had no appreciation for the term "secret identity" or secret anything. It was internally killing the girl to lie to her family, but Peter had explained on multiple occasions that it was the only way to keep them safe. The mask was their shield. It was the only thing standing between a private life and becoming a celebrity... or an identified menace according to the Daily Bugle.

May opened her mouth, looking between her daughter and nephew. There had been a few gestures that her peripheral vision had caught, but the doorbell rang before she could address anyone. She took one last look, shook her head to let the matter go, and then exited the room to answer the door.

"You're going to get us caught one of these days," Peter said while opening the fridge to grab the half-empty carton of milk.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" Amelia rhetorically asked.

Peter shot her a look that served as the only answer she needed. Since becoming partners following graduation from Middleton, the two had learned how to operate on the same wavelength. Which at times included conversing in a collection of incredulous looks and obscene hand gestures—like the second bird she'd flipped in his direction.

He was ready to wage war, but a tingling sensation crawled down his spine, pulling at the hairs on the back of his neck. Instead of flipping her off, he slowly closed the fridge, allowing the glass containers to clatter—dangerously close to cracking as more force was used than necessary—then faced the doorway that would lead to the front door.

"Pete?" Amelia questioned his actions. Sure, she'd developed an AI that acted like a spider-sense, but as she wasn't wearing her suit she remained in the dark since all of her "powers" were man-made. "What's wrong?"

"I—"

"You said they were in the kitchen?" a voice with an English lilt asked. Although neither Amelia or Peter could see the man who had spoken, they immediately knew who he was. He'd played an integral part in making them the people they were today. Peter wouldn't even be Spider-Man without his research. As for Amelia... well, no Spider-Man, no Ivory Spider.

As Dr. Curt Connors entered the room, both Parkers froze—hesitating between a defensive stance and remaining calm. Dr. Connors appeared well aware of their unease, holding out his hands as if waving a white flag before glancing over his shoulder toward May who was only a few steps behind. As if unanimously coming to a truce, the three tense individuals relaxed—albeit still twitching with discomfort.

"In the kitchen," May agreed, nodding toward the two, "Just where I said they'd be."

"Thank you," Connors sounded genuinely appreciative.

There was a brief moment of silence before May clasped her hands together. The sound was loud—and somehow more uncomfortable than the tense silence prior. She inhaled, putting her thoughts together before nodding her head as she recognized the desire for a private discussion.

"You kids all good here?"

Peter and Amelia nodded simultaneously even though every fiber of their being urged them to plead with her to stay. However, they both understood that May's safety was priority number one, and getting her out of the house was the only way to do so.

"I think we're out of milk," Amelia noted.

"Already?" May asked incredulously, turning to open the fridge. "I just had Peter pick some up last night."

Amelia quickly slid in front of the fridge, pressing her back against the door to keep it sealed. "I couldn't sleep. Needed some warm milk... lots of it."

May sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Is there anything else I should pick up while I'm out?"

"Ooo, brownie mix," Amelia requested.

"I think the bread is about to expire," Peter added.

"Some tea might be nice," Connors suggested. Then quickly realized that he wasn't actually involved in that conversation. "If you're tea people anyway..."

May blinked then grabbed her purse and left the house without another word. She had wisely chosen that ignorance was bliss. Most parents wouldn't leave the kids alone in a house right after receiving company. But then again most parents didn't have a pair of college students who were well on their way to having several phds.

As soon as the door closed, the webs sprung loose. Connors hand was trapped against the table as Peter tapped the device at his wrist. For an extra measure of safety... Peter and Amelia took another step back before beginning their interrogation.

"What are you doing here, Dr. Connors?" Peter asked.

"Should I get a lamp?" Amelia asked. Her head turned toward the other two as if asking their opinion. "This feels like it needs a lamp."

"Mel~"

"~Mia."

Peter and Connors spoke in unison. Only the doctor's choice of phrase caught them off-guard. Never once in her life had Amelia ever been referred to by Mia—not without some serious damage anyway. Peter and Amelia glanced at one another.

"You remember the other me," Amelia noted.

"Yes." Connors nodded. "But I was beginning to fear that you never would."

Peter's brow furrowed. "What are you saying? That we returned to different points of time."

"I'm not sure what I'm saying," Connors half-heartedly contradicted. "But from what I can understand, I was brought back several days before I'd been taken on a cross-dimensional joyride."

"When?" Amelia asked, forgetting all about her boundaries of precaution as she left the fridge and took a seat at the table. "When did you get back? Because we woke up as if we'd never left."

"I was brought back to the moment prior to injecting myself with our serum, Peter," Connors replied. "I don't know how, but I was given a second chance at life."

Peter rubbed his temples, trying to process the new information he was being fed. "Let me get this straight... You were sent back to a time before you injected yourself with the serum, and by the looks of it you never did. So then what, the Lizard doesn't exist in our current timeline?"

"And you don't have the slightest urge to turn the human race into anthropomorphic reptiles?" Amelia added, speaking as if she didn't buy a word he was saying.

"It wasn't easy turning down the temptation to become whole—" Connors paused, cutting himself off as he looked down at his missing arm. For a brief moment, the light glittered across his eyes in an eerie manner. However, he quickly shook away the power-hungry gaze as if chastising himself. "No, I wouldn't have been whole, simply powerful. It's hard to turn away power once you've had a taste..."

"Shouldn't the time stream be collapsing in on itself if the Lizard never existed?" Amelia asked. "Mind, I'm no professional when it comes to quantum mechanics, but every time-traveling movie I've ever watched has said that changing the past is a big 'no-no'."

"I never said there wasn't a Lizard," Connors corrected her statement. "And I wouldn't trust Back to the Future as law when it comes to theoretical time-travel."

"Dr. Connors," Peter again called for him to focus, shooting Amelia a look that implied she should stop distracting him. She stuck her tongue out. He cleared his throat. "Then who became the Lizard."

"Dr. Ratha," Connors explained. "The first time around, I'd been fired just before taking the serum because I wouldn't rush to human trials. It was unethical—"

"As opposed to turning the entire human race into reptiles," Amelia snickered under her breath.

"As I was saying," Connors continued. "I walked away this time. I left my research behind, founded my own genetics laboratory—which I'll talk more about later—and disassociated with Oscorp entirely."

"And Dr. Ratha?" Peter asked.

"A mishap on his way to the airport," Connors replied. "My research was to be Norman Osborn's next experimental treatment. However, a wreck on the bridge created the accident which injected Dr. Ratha with the serum. Most of the events over the next few days transpired similar to the original timeline, only it was you and I that co-created the antidote for the serum, Peter. From there I hired some of Osborn's neglected staff—including Max, which meant he was nowhere near the right conditions to create—I believe he called himself Electro—And then I brought in a couple of interns... that being the two of you, of course."

Amelia scoffed. "I'm an engineer, not a biologist. Why would I accept an internship for a branch of science I don't plan to specialize in?"

"Perhaps because you've been working under one of the greatest technological minds of the age," Connors answered without missing a beat. "Dr. Otto Octavius."

"I'm pretty sure that's the guy who tried to kill up in the other universe," Amelia countered. "It's kinda hard to forget a name reminiscent of calamari."

"I've closely monitored the conditions of the laboratory to ensure that no mishaps would occur," Connors reassured her. "Dr. Octavius may share a name with his counterpart, but he's hardly the same individual."

"You can paint a zebra pink and that doesn't change its stripes," Amelia snorted, crossing her arms as she twisted her lips.

Peter blinked. "How did you screw up that idiom so badly?"

"None of that is important," Connors interrupted before the train of conversation could be derailed once more. "What you need to understand is that the world you've returned to is vastly different to the one you left behind."

"What else could you have possibly changed?" Peter's brow furrowed as his eyes widened. "Already you stopped the Lizard apocalypse, prevented the creation of a second supervillain, provided both my cousin and myself with internships—"

"Which led to scholarships at your universities of choice," Connors interrupted.

"I got in to MIT?" Amelia's jaw dropped.

"And Peter is attending ESU I believe," Connors agreed with a nod of his head.

"How could one moment completely unravel the timeline we know?" Peter questioned, rubbing his temples as if experiencing a headache.

"It's what we've come to call 'the butterfly effect'," Connors explained, "But it's not quite so much one moment as it is dozens of decisions altered to appear like one grand event."

"Who's we?" Amelia asked, tilting her head as she leaned back in her chair. Her arms remained crossed only long enough that she couldn't properly catch herself as the chair slid out from under her. Peter looked as if he would try to catch her, but feigned the action, pulling his hand back before a web could be released. She gawked and he smirked.

"Max," Connors replied, leaning forward against the table to be closer to the two. "When we reached the point of time where his consciousness from the multiverse merged with his physical form, we began running calculations on transdimensional travel and its relation to time. It's fascinating stuff—"

"Doc." Peter sighed. "We can go over the schematics later, but can we stick to the important details?"

"Right," Connors agreed with a nod of his head. He cleared his throat to catch his train of thought. "Now this is where things get interesting."

Amelia scoffed. "Oh, now thing's get interesting."

"I'd had memories of both timelines running through my mind because I'd lived through them, right?" Connors rhetorically asked, growing giddy with excitement the longer he spoke. "About two weeks after Max returned, and I'd explained everything to his as I've told you just now, his mind began to adapt. Memories of events he'd never experienced came to him in flashes. And just like me, he was suddenly of both worlds—only he was living with memories that were not his own."

"That's got to do a number on a guy's mind, Doc," Peter noted, growing uneasy as he noticed Connors hands had begun to shake. "What other side effects have there been?"

"We haven't discovered anything else, but isn't this incredible?" Connors asked, trying to stand. He suceeded in the first action, but as he tried to turn, he was yanked back by his hand still trapped within a web attached to the table. He quickly caught his breath. "This is more than anything Richard and I could have dreamed. The possibilities are endless—"

"Doc," Peter interrupted. He'd straightened with a look of concern plastered to his face. "We've already seen that the multiverse is capable of destroying an entire world in seconds. This isn't something we should be tampering with. We don't have magic and wizards to slap a band-aid over any cracks we make."

"No, but we have science." Dr. Connors's eyes widened and his voice was reminiscent of a growl.

Peter could see it in his eyes, the same look of power that flickered in the Lizard's eyes. This was just another substance that the doctor could abuse to fill the void. A void Peter wasn't sure he actually understood. The man had molded his life for the better, why would he risk undoing that all now?

Connors's grin was dangerous. "We have all the tools to control the variables. Theories of magic were always unpredictable anyway. Science. Now that you can always rely on to reveal the truth."

"Sure, when it's not creating supervillains and nuclear weapons so that humanity can destory itself," Amelia retorted under her breath. She then paused. "Okay, that sounded really pessimistic as a scientist, but what I'm saying is that I agree with Peter. We can't risk it."

Connors laughed. Only it wasn't a manic laugh, but tired. "It's too late. The doorway was opened and we can either control it or be controlled by what comes through."

Peter frowned. Now that he'd gotten over the shock of Dr. Connors presence in his home, he could really look at the scientist. Connor's hair was flying up in every direction. His lab coat was marred with stains and possible burn marks. The bags under his eyes were large enough to compete with Mary Poppins's. And there was that wild look that was a mixture of sleep deprivation and curiosity—a dangerous combination.

Peter's jaw clenched but he kept a calm disposition, reaching forward to remove the web that kept the doctor trapped. "I think it's time for you to go, Doc."

Connors clenched and unclenched his hand as if it had fallen asleep while pinned to the table. However, panic crossed his face the second Peter refused his offer. He shook his head, trying to verbally fight back as he followed Peter toward the front door.

"Peter, you don't understand. If we don't decipher these secrets now, we don't stand a chance when they come." Dr. Connors planted his feet at the front door. He wasn't fighting being kicked out of the house, but he'd say what he came to say. His expression turned neutral and the tone of his voice dropped to a low whisper. "And they will come."

"There's a reason they're called secrets," Amelia said. Her arms had remained crossed even as she'd followed the others through the living room.

Peter shook his head, opening the front door. "The universe can send its worst, but I'm not going to be the one placing down the welcome mat."

Dr. Connors frowned, but he knew when he wasn't wanted. He turned to walk out the door, but instead there was another guest. A look of hesitation twisted Connor's features as he amended his thought of leaving without another word. "There may be something else I forgot to mention..."

Apparently the universe was listening to the conversation. Because as Peter turned his head just an inch further to see what or who was keeping the doctor from leaving, chills shot down his spine—but his blood boiled. The universe had sent its worst alright. And it came in the shape of Harry Osborn on his doorstep.

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𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬| Welcome to my take on the multiverse, hopefully it wasn't too difficult to understand. In my opinion, it didn't make sense to cure the sinister six and send them right back to the moment they left because most of them were about to die anyway. So I thought I'd give them a chance at life... and create more chaos in the process. Now if you thought this was crazy just you wait for the train wreck to come into play later. After all this is only chapter one. As always don't be afraid to vote and leave a comment!