Spider-Man and The Esper

85. Not Alone In The Mutiverse

Was he dead? He had to be dead. After all, he’d done it. He’d finally done it. He’d ended it all. Hadn’t he?

But if he was dead… why did he feel so bad? Why did his head and his throat hurt so much? Why was it so hard to breathe? This wasn’t how he was supposed to feel. He was supposed to not feel anything bad anymore. He was supposed to feel good. He was supposed to feel light and free. Instead, he could barely move a muscle. 

He opened his eyes and blinked, but for a couple of seconds, he couldn’t see anything. Everything was fuzzy and swimming in front of his eyes. He felt a little sick.

Michael woke up to the feeling of pain. He scrunched up his face and flinched back from whatever was hurting him. He was disoriented, felt groggy and weak. He moaned softly.

“Hey. It’s okay. You’re safe” A different voice told him. Michael opened his eyes and blinked a few times. Warm blue eyes met his own. A gentle hand caressed his hair. His sight slowly cleared and focused on the friendly face of a middle-aged man with short brown hair and light stubble on his cheeks and chin. There are two others wearing the same red and blue outfits much like the middle aged guy.

One was on the young side, possibly 15 or 16. This guy was lean and a bit muscular, his suit was red and blue. His eyes were also expressive as well. The spider emblem was a bit sharp, it was a little similar to Michael’s red back symbol.

The other one next to him, the other Spider-man was taller than him. Taller and lean. He was muscular, but lean. His suit looked different than any suit he’d ever owned himself, the spider emblem in the middle of his chest so big, the legs reached all the way down to his stomach

Michael’s spider senses tingled, but not in the way that told him that he was in danger. The three others got the same feeling.

“… You guys are like me?” He softly asked, astonished. The man grinned in that slightly dorky, but endearing way.

“Yeah. It’s pretty crazy. All three of us are Peter Parker or you can call me Peter 2."

The taller one raised his hand to introduce himself, "Peter 3."

"Peter 1."

Michael twitched again, as Peter 2 pressed something soft and wet against the gash right over his eyebrow. It smelt like disinfectant. “Sorry. You’re in pretty bad shape. We were able to help you out before you lost a lot of blood."

Michael held still now that he was slowly taking in his surroundings. He was lying on a small bed, a thick blanket covering him up to his chest. Peter 2 was sitting on the edge of it, a first aid kit lying open on the nightstand. They were back at his house.

“I… I don’t understand, why choose to save someone like me?" Michael helplessly said. His voice was hoarse. He suddenly realized how thirsty he was.

Peter 2 seemed to notice, because he reached for a glass of water on the nightstand. “Here, drink.”

Michael carefully sat up, the blanket falling back to reveal his bare chest. He looked down at himself. Some of his injuries had been dressed – the slightly deeper cuts that were on his wrists. He felt very self-conscious with his muscle and bruised body exposed like that, the scars were covered with bandages as his mask and top suit was on drawer, only his bottom suit remained on his body. These three had now seen identify and scars, he felt that the three were now giving off sympathetic vibes showing that they were sort of understanding his pain and struggles.