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the12thnightproject · 1 year

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(Sound up on vid)

Event: One Suitor, One Prompt, sponsored by @violettduchess

Suitor/Prompt: Clavis / Water

Clavis vs Emma, Yves, Rio, Licht, Keith; with an assist from Chevalier, as witnessed by Cyran

Title: The Rube Golderg Escalation

Logline: One prank leads to another... or... does it?

Genre: Chaos Fic

Warnings: There might be a pun

Word Count: ~3000

Precisely at midnight, in a room fortified by three different fail-safe traps, Clavis instantly falls asleep. The moment he face-plants on his desk, the top of his head knocks over the first domino in a line of tiles that snakes across the room. This sets in motion a chain reaction as the dominos topple one by one, until the final tile nudges a marble, which rolls down a ramp and plops into a basket attached to a pulley. The marble’s weight causes the basket to descend and a platform to rise. At the top of the climb, the platform flips a lever, and a dagger pops up to slice a string, releasing a mallet that swings down and knocks over a jar full of tiny silver balls.

The balls whoosh to the floor and rebound in a symphonic clatter.

At the noise, Clavis wakes up and leaps to his feet.

He looks around… checks his traps…

Then he corrals the balls, resets every stage of his device, and settles back at his desk again, determined to stay awake.

At 12:48 a.m., Clavis’s head droops, and as he falls into slumber, he again face-plants on his desk-–

We’re going to pause here, for this scenario will repeat another five and a half times, until 5:29 a.m. The five hours until that moment will be far less interesting than the hours that drove us to this point.

So, let us go back in time a bit…

“Haha, I know you have fallen in love with me. Even though you first set eyes upon me only moments ago, you now are so truly madly deeply attached to my person, that you’ve dropped your plans to conspire against me, your one true love.”

Further back.

“Do you want a cupcake?”

Keep going.

“You want me to instruct you on how to achieve revenge on Clavis.”

Not quite there yet… keep going.

“Congratulations. You have a son.”

That’s … too far.

Two days ago, just after ten in the morning, Yves and Licht fell prey to a pit trap. This in itself was not an out of the ordinary occurrence, as sometimes it seemed that Yves and Licht only existed for the sole purpose of falling into these traps. In fact, they had blundered into so many traps that Clavis had been forced to invent new and exciting ways to make them even more fun for his brothers, to ensure that they did not become bored with the whole enterprise.

Therefore, this particular Thursday morning, the trap had been filled with water, and –

[Right. It has been pointed out to this correspondent that “filled with water” is an inaccurate description. There was indeed water in the trap, water that Clavis himself had poured into the trap, but only to a depth of about two feet. There was not enough water to drown anyone hapless enough to fall into Clavis’ trap. Moving on.]

Where were we? Right. Pit trap… water… Yves and Licht.

Splash!

Sploosh!

Squish.

Casualties of the trap included Licht’s boots and Yves’ entire outfit, for he, unfortunately slid down the muddy sides of the pit and landed inelegantly on his otherwise elegant rear.

Normally, that would have been the end* of it, but when the muddy victims made their way back to the castle, they encountered Emma, Rio and Keith, who were out for a morning stroll among the roses.

Yves’s condition elicited immediate sympathy from Emma. Meanwhile Rio vowed that should Emma become a pit trap victim, Clavis would need to travel past the islands of Kogyoku to escape his wrath. But it was an uncharacteristic suggestion from Keith, offered in an uncharacteristic tone of voice, that toppled the first domino. “Perhaps you should get even with him. Teach him what it’s like to be the object of a prank.”

Yves paused to wring out his cravat before answering. The sight of the muddy water dripping onto the ground caused him to flinch, and Emma was tempted to hug him. However when he finally spoke, it was to shoot down the idea. “I have more important things to do than to get involved in a war of pranks.”

Then he squish-marched his way into the castle without another word.

Things might have ended there, were it not for the unlikely assistance of Chevalier, who nudged the marble forward.

(Yes. Chevalier. Really.)

His advice was quite possibly unintentional. After all, the petty pranks of his younger siblings had nothing to do with him, and there was no incentive for him to step in and help…

“You’re blocking the light, Simpleton. Also. No.” Chevalier did not look up from his book, even though Emma had been patiently waiting for him to speak to her. The eventual acknowledgement wasn’t especially flattering, but she was interrupting his reading time, which probably accounted for his mood.

[Ed. Note: No it didn’t.]

“You don’t even know what I was about to –“

“You want me to instruct you on how to achieve revenge on Clavis.” Chevalier set the book in his lap, the open pages signaling that he expected this to be too short a discussion to bother shutting it, too short even to keep his finger in to mark his place. Not that he would have done so anyway**. “It’s not worth my breath. Besides, a man who expects an attack will never let down his guard enough to be surprised.” He picked up the book again, a clear signal that the conversation was over and Emma had again become invisible to him.

“Expects an attack…” Though Emma had spoken aloud, Chevalier did not react. There had been a considering tone to her voice, as if an idea had occurred to her. It was only after she left his private library that Chevalier looked up, with half of his mouth quirked up in a tiny smile.

Perhaps the idea of a private Chevalier smile is artistic license. This correspondent will leave that decision up to the reader.

The following morning, a strategy session took place in the secondary kitchen. Though Yves had professed disinterest in revenge, he had been lured to the meeting with the promise of a recipe from Jade that Keith swore was an heirloom from his Grandmother’s kitchen. And since he was already there, he supposed he could hear Emma out…

“… what is so perfect about this idea is that we actually don’t have to do anything.” Emma went on to detail her idea. “If we set it up correctly, the prank will just work on its own.”

It was simple.

It was deceptive.

It was devious.

It was a surprise that this devious plan had come from Emma.

“You’ve been working too hard with the Bossman.” Rio examined her for signs of nervous exhaustion.

Emma decided it would be a bad idea to mention that the impetus of this plot had come from Chevalier.

Even after they all agreed that the scheme was really quite workable, they might not have ever come up with the nerve to deploy it. That was when fate stepped in, kicking that marble down the ramp.

“Dearie me, you’re having a secret breakfast meeting without me.” Clavis put his hand to his heart. “I can only think that you must be putting together a surprise for my birthday. Let me guess – we’re going to have full day to fete me? A Celebration of Clavis, as it were? Or… Carnival of Clavis! I am touched.”

At his words, the five co-conspirators immediately displayed the shamed faces that only people unused to subterfuge can do. Emma blushed. Yves cleared his throat and fiddled with his earring. Keith stuck his hand in his coat and stared at the wall. Rio looked up at the ceiling. Licht looked down at the floor.

A more guilty looking party you couldn’t find outside of a political convention.

Instantly alerted by their reactions, Clavis gazed at this gallery of rogues. “I sense a plot is in the works.”

“Eep.” Emma could only squeak.

“Nothing.” Licht’s denial was mumbled at sub-audible volume***.

“My mistress would never dream of such a thing.” Rio turned and winked at Emma.

Casually… perhaps too casually at this point – Clavis stole a pastry from the tray and popped it in his mouth. Only after swallowing it during a silence as uncomfortable as a lukewarm bath in winter did he speak. “If I were a suspicious type, one who did not believe his family loved him, I might think you all were planning a dastardly trick on me.” He added a disbelieving laugh at the end, and waited for them to deny things.

A chorus of not terribly convincing “Of course nots,” arose, after which the original members of the tea plotting party suddenly recalled that they all had tasks that immediately needed accomplished, and made their escape.

Only the dregs of their breakfast remained, and Clavis was left gazing at the space where they had been. They truly were up to something. A game… a plot… a… revenge?

Maybe… maybe filling the pit trap with water had been a bad idea?

Hm.

He resolved to be on his guard for signs of surprise attacks. Not that they could possibly come up with a revenge that rivalled his own pit traps and other experiments.

The marble had fallen into the basket, and the platform was on the ascent.

Upon exiting the kitchen, Clavis noticed Emma had paused to talk to Cyran. When Emma glanced over her shoulder and spotted Clavis, she bit her lip and scurried away.

“You too?” Clavis’s words weren’t loud enough to reach Cyran’s ears, but he had already seen Clavis peering out of the kitchen, so he greeted the Prince accordingly.

“Good morning sir.” Taking in the remains of the conspirator’s food, he added, “Did you make breakfast for Emma then?” This was said in the guarded tones of a man who has eaten Clavis’s cooking and barely lived to tell the tale.

Ignoring the question, Clavis gestured to where Emma and Cyran had been talking. “Did she try to recruit you to the cause?”

“What cause?” Cyran said outwardly. Now what? (He said inwardly).

“Dear me, there are multiple causes. I knew it. For they will need to attack on simultaneous fronts in order to best me.” All five of them were independently working on plots against him. “Thank you for confirming the existence of those dastardly plans.”

Cyran sighed. “I said what cause, not which cause.”

“Ah ha!”

“Ah ha?”

“Ah ha ha ha.” And with that, Clavis strode off, leaving a truly confused Cyran in his wake.

A short while later, Clavis discovered Emma furtively creeping out of Sariel’s office. She held something shiny in her hand that she tried to hide when she spotted him. “We meet again, my love!” He bowed over her hand, inspecting the object. It was a key. Flashing her a dazzling smile, he said, “Hahaha. Sariel gave you a key? It won’t open the door to my room, so if you plan to wait for me there on a bed of roses, it is all for naught.”

“What? No!” Emma blushed and thrust the key behind her back. “It’s for the hidden gazebo in the garden.” Her face still bright red, Emma edged away from him, then zipped down the hallway.

Once she was out of sight, a frown crossed his face. Had Sariel managed to make a key that would unlock his room? Clavis had designed that lock to be impossible to break… but just to be safe, it would be a good idea to increase the protections in his room.

As a precaution.

And thus… the dagger sliced through the string, and the mallet swooped down, releasing over the course of the day, a series of suspicious incidents, conversations and near misses that bounce through his mind like tiny silver balls…

Item One – a serving tray full of Yves’s freshly baked pastry. Just before Clavis could take a lavender-bergamot flavored cupcake, Rio rotated the tray. Had this been a suggestion he wanted Clavis to take the cake now closest to his hand? Or maybe a diversion that was aimed to ensure he took the purple frosted one he had originally been aiming for? In the end, Clavis decided he was safest depriving himself of the treat altogether, and went without tea.

Item Two – Emma and Keith (and perpetual tag-along Rio) invited him on an excursion to that previously mentioned secret gazebo. But… were they nudging him down a specific path? Clavis could not see any evidence of a newly dug trap… but danger didn’t only lurk below. He eyed the line of hedges, looking for a suspended net or hanging bucket… and in the process, stubbed his toe on an unevenly placed stone on the path. Giving up on the trek, he returned to the main garden, and perched upon a warm sunny bench in an open area where he would be able to see if anyone approached. A slight sunburn was his reward – but at least no one attacked him and no net landed upon him.

Item Three – At a party that night arranged for a delegation of visiting nobles from outside the capital area, Clavis took note of a lovely, long-legged lady who eyed him with overt appreciation. Ah… another instance of love at first sight. He would permit her to lay her heart at his feet. However, before Clavis could reach her side, the lady was temporarily waylaid by Emma and Yves. He was too far away to hear their conversation, but … what if this unknown lady had been hired as part of their revenge prank?

Alas, for Clavis, the woman was completely innocent of any conspiracy, and his less-than-subtle questioning of her only resulted in a –

Slap!

At this point, Clavis called for a tactical retreat, barricaded himself in his room, and set up a complicated alarm to help keep him awake past midnight, in order to ensure he could instantly repel a pre-dawn revenge raid.

This brings us to 5:27 a.m…

Clavis has once again fallen asleep at his desk. Regrettably, in his exhaustion, he neglected to correctly reset his ‘Clavis Personal Sleep Interrupter™’ and the dominos ceased falling mid-stream. The marble stayed at the top of the ramp. The dagger never cut the string to release the mallet. There was no cascade of silver balls across the floor.

Instead, at 5:28 a.m. there is a crash, followed by a yelp of pain outside his room, caused by one of the maids colliding with a castle footman and dropping her dust pan... on the footman’s foot****.

Awakened and alarmed by the noise, Clave jumps to his feet, grabs a weapon, and runs to his door, determined to confront an invasion. Given his mostly sleepless night, it should not come as a surprise that he forgot his own booby traps. Therefore, when he throws open the door, there is a BOOM as an explosion of pink dust fills the room. This is followed by a sploosh when a bucket of honey (stolen from Luke who will not be happy when he realizes it is gone) falls on his head. Then finally a floof, when the honey-blinded Clavis trips over a rope and falls into mini-pit full of feathers.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

(The Maid, upon seeing the pink honey and feather colored beast emerging from Clavis’s room).

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

(The Footman, deeper voice, same cause).

At 9:42 a.m. a freshly cleaned, de-honeyed, de-pinked, de-feathered (except for one tiny feather stuck to the side of his head), very tired, sunburned and slightly feverish Clavis finds and confronts the gang of five, who are, this time, enjoying breakfast in the rose garden. “What a sorry looking cabal of conspirators.” Five “innocent” looking faces greet this statement. “You’re planning a revenge prank are you not? Ah hahaha. Have I not proved that I am equal to anything you might throw at me?”

As he spoke, that one tiny feather finally loosed itself and drifts harmlessly to the ground.

After a moment of silence for the kamikaze feather, Emma, who has somehow been elected speaker, shakes her head. “Prince Clavis, no one here is planning a prank on you.”

One eyebrow rises in disbelief.

“It might be more honest to say that instead… we convinced you that we were going to prank you… and…” She waves her hand in the air. “Then you pranked yourself.”

There is a long moment of silence while Clavis ponders the ramifications of that.

Longer…

“Ah hahahah haha” Clavis throws back his head and laughs into the sky. “I knew it! You all love me! Nothing else could have motivated such a brilliant plot. Emma… Rio… Keith… and my beloved brothers… I’m overjoyed.” Indeed, it does appear that Clavis is shaking with excitement. “Only people who adore me and respect my genius could have realized what was truly necessary to trick me. Because of course, the only person who can successfully prank me is,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “Me! How deliciously intriguing.”

The conspirator’s momentary relief that he appears to be taking this so well, changes to worry at Clavis’s next announcement. “I cannot wait to show you all how much I love you in return.”

(The end.... or is it...?)

*Pun intended

** Not that would Chevalier ever stoop to leaving his finger in a book, turning it upside down or commit the heinous crime of folding down the corner of a page. He has no need to as he always remembers his exact place.

***More sub-audible than usual

**** Though this uproar is incredibly well timed and placed, it is actually just an unfortunate coincidence. Emma, Rio, Yves, Licht, Keith and Keith were all asleep in their respective beds when this occurred and had nothing to do with the maid/footman collision. Sometimes an act of fate is simply that.

Thank you @violettduchess for a lovely event that forced me way way beyond my Sengoku comfort zone.

Also thanks to Lorei helping to ensure this isn't egregiously OOC.

#ikemen prince #ikemen prince clavis #clavis lelouch #yves kloss #licht klein #rio ortiz #chevalier michel #cyran rose #ikepri emma #ikepri clavis #ikepri fanfic #cybird #wow princes are more difficult to write than warlords!#one suitor one prompt ccc #keith howell #whoops almost forgot keith #and his last name #original inspiration - 'The Joker Is Wild' M*A*S*H ep 44

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mercurydancer · 1 year

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Burning Matches Pt 5.

Welcome Home

“No,” Peni gasped at the sight of the warning flashing on the screen, looking from it to Pete. “No,” she repeated, and pressed the button again. At the sound of the warning chiming again, Peni had to swallow back the start of more tears.

汚染

“No!” she cried out and pushed it again, still trying to fight against the prickling burning of tears at the back of her eyes, back of her throat, under her ribs. “That’s a LIE!” Another warning beep.

汚染

“He’s not contaminated!” She pressed the button again, and a sob rasped out from deep in her chest. “Shut up!” she screamed as it blinked out:

汚染

Peni gave another sob, not sure what it meant, what it could be referring to, why it wasn’t working. She had already made sure that there was a field in place for each of them, that it could recognize their cells and what made them different and be able to work around that. Why wasn’t it working? What did it mean? Was the Lizard venomous? But it should have been able to simply take out the venom, why was it acting like…like he wasn’t even…?

Peni couldn’t even think about it, and her arm reared back as the urge came to punch a hole through the monitor that was lying, Peni’s voice coming out in a stilted scream, and Peter B was suddenly before her.

Her arm halted before it even came close to touching him. Peter B grabbed her mechanical hand in both of his, and held her tight, bringing her hand down to his level and staring up into her eyes with wide and insistent brown. There was worry in them, but also a burning resolve that fed into her a calm that she desperately needed.

“Peni, Peni, it’s okay. It’s okay, he’s still breathing, we still have time, he’s not dead yet and he won’t die in here.” Peter B kept his eyes locked on hers in her suit, his voice calm and certain. “Your machine probably just doesn’t recognize the Spider mutate. That’s fine. He’ll be fine. I’ve survived worse, he’ll survive worse, it’s going to be fine, we just…have to take him somewhere else.”

“But where?” Peni asked. “He…he was…”

“I got my back broken once, kid, and I’m walking around fine and I definitely didn’t have any access to your…weird medical stuff,” Peter B kept his eyes on hers, voice steady. “If that happened to him it might take a little longer, but I don’t doubt that he’ll be back on his feet eventually. But frankly, we don’t even know that’s what happened. Do you have a way to take an x-ray? Or anything? What did that first image show? Can you get the data off it?”

“Yes, but…”

“We’ll take him somewhere they can help. I didn’t have any fancy medical technology, and he definitely doesn’t, but we’re both still here. This isn’t the first time he’s been cut up, either…but he’s starting to bleed around the webbing, and I’m lacking some sanitary webbing. We gotta move.” Peter B’s voice was gaining urgency once Peni stopped panicking and it filled her with resolve.

Peni felt herself calm, immediately seeking to hack through the mainframe and steal what information the machine could gain before it decided that Pete wasn’t… She still didn’t know what exactly was happening or why it had blocked him out, but it was like the machine decided he wasn’t even human.

Peter took a deep breath as soon as Peni turned to her task, pressing the button that he had seen Peni use that released the odd bed. He checked the bleeding and found that while it was definitely still oozing out around the webbing, it wasn’t at life-threatening levels. Not yet at least, but it was getting to the point where it might be critical. He turned to ask for help and found three Spiders staring at him in shock.

“What?” he asked.

“That was…that was pretty amazing?” Miles managed breathlessly. “I felt calm and I wasn’t…you weren’t even talking to me.”

“Oh, well…you learn what to say, kid,” Peter finally said softly. “Lot of experience with that kinda thing. But listen, I need you all to help me move him back to Peni as soon as she has the data. We…we need to take him to Aunt May.” The slight waver in his voice hardened as he said those words, knowing that as a registered nurse, and someone that had experience with her nephew she would be the most capable. As he spoke he went over to the remains of Pete’s shredded coat, and balled it up before walking back to the man. He gestured to Porker as the smallest of them, and wadded up the coat, putting it on his wound and applying pressure to slow the blood-loss even more. Porker caught on quick, and pressed, following the conversation quietly even as he applied all of his weight on it.

“No,” Gwen said suddenly, shaking her head as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Peter blinked in surprise, turning back from helping Porker.

“What do you mean…?” he started.

“She already buried her nephew once, are you going to ask her to take care of him again when there’s the possibility she can’t help him in time, and she’ll have to bury another?” Gwen asked. “Why not take him to MJ?”

“MJ isn’t a registered nurse, for one, and for two she has to deal with my healing factor. She doesn’t have any experience with people that aren’t exactly like me, I don’t think she’d be completely up to the task,” Peter argued back, which was true, as much as he didn’t want to throw MJ under the bus, he knew that her medical skills were limited.

“She might be the only one who can help us, even if his healing isn’t as good as yours. Who knows, maybe the sight of him like that also might make her stop wanting kids, so you wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore,” Gwen snapped back.

Peter found himself stuck between bristling and reeling with the absolute venom in Gwen’s voice. He didn’t know what to say for a moment, various words caught in his mouth, fighting over his tongue, and then another voice:

“My mom’s a nurse,” Miles interrupted suddenly, and all attention snapped to him that could be spared, Peni still working on retrieving what information she could. “My mom’s a nurse. She could…she could help him. I know she could. She works in the trauma ward, she…she’s good at this kind of thing, she’s seen it happen all the time.”

Peter took a moment to gather his thoughts again, staring down at Miles closely, taking in the way Miles took a step back under the initial scrutiny, before squaring his shoulders and standing upright. Miles looked up at him with his expression daring him to say no, and Peter finally kneeled down before him. Peter put his hands on the oh-so-small shoulders encased in their black spandex costume and stared deeply into the kid’s eyes.

“Are you sure, kid?” Peter asked. “This is a big decision and I need to be sure that you are sure.”

“Yes,” Miles replied, and he met his gaze with all the intensity that the thirteen-year-old possessed, those shoulders squaring. “If it means that Pete’ll be okay, then I’ll do it.”

“Kid, listen closely,” Peter ordered softly, watching as Miles locked his gaze. “If you decide this is the moment when you show your parents what you’ve been doing and who you are, then alright, we’ll be with you and support you no matter what. But if you decide you are not ready then let me do the talking, okay? No matter what we have your back, but trust me, just let me do the talking.”

Miles nodded, and that was the moment when Peni finally called out, “I have it!” They immediately set to repositioning Pete. Keeping his body as steady as possible without the cocoon was a little more challenging, but still doable, even with Porker’s added weight. “Where are we going?”

“My world,” Miles said, straightening and squaring his shoulder’s defiantly. The black of Pete’s blood stained the red on his fingers. “My mom’s a nurse. She can help.”

“Okay,” Peni agreed, and immediately set to programming. A portal opened again and all of them resumed their places on the mech. Peni leapt through, that weird disorienting feeling lurching through Peter’s stomach, before they were out again. Each of them leapt to the side as Peni threw out her own web, Times Square brilliant and shining before them in the nighttime sky.

Miles took the lead and they all followed him in an odd parody of follow-the-leader throughout the city, keeping high and out of sight.

They had to adjust their pattern to make sure there wouldn’t be many people noticing as they finally made it to Miles’ neighborhood. Miles paused before making the final leap to his fire-escape and into the building, and Peter watched as Miles pulled the mask off, before looking up at him with wide eyes. Peter made eye-contact, watching the fear and the uncertainty war within the young man, before making his decision.

“Say that we need help, and then let me do the rest,” Peter said, and his voice was filled with all of the calm confidence he could inject into it. Miles continued staring at him for a moment, before nodding, and diving into his bedroom. A few moments later he rushed back to the front and began pounding on the door, his clothes changed and fear in his movements.

A woman stepped out a few moments later, pushing curly hair behind her ear and looking at her son. She was dressed in scrubs, looking like she had just gotten off of a shift, her body still holding all of its stress between its shoulders, and her gaze that had been sharp and almost panicked softened into a mixture of concern and surprise when she saw Miles standing there. She ducked down immediately, reaching out with both hands and taking Miles’ shoulders in her gentle, if not steady grip, and began speaking to him in worried, but mostly soothing Spanish.

Peter gave a slight nod at the sight, respect building for her already. Miles threw a glance their way, waving, and Peni slid out of SP//dr, the mech ducking low and camouflaging immediately. Peter helped her onto his shoulder in a move he knew Pete had performed first, and the other two moved into position to better hold Pete steady, Porker still applying pressure. Miles made a gesture at his own room, just as a man ran forward into view, and the other three made the leap over to Miles’ room when given permission.

“Tenemos que ayudarlo, mamá,” Peter could hear Miles saying in Spanish as he led his parents over to his room with hurried feet, the sound of a door slamming a second later, “Por favor, tenemos que ayudarlo, él... él me salvó, y está tan... está tan herido, por favor”

The door was thrown open then, that man that Peter hadn’t really had a chance to glance at before suddenly standing before them all suddenly standing before him. He was tall, broad-shouldered in a way that Peter’s physique could never pull off, particularly now (but he wasn’t thinking about that), and he was definitely the larger threat, the one that was actively going to be worried about what was being brought into his home, what was being brought near his family.

Peter could respect that intimately.

It was the reason why as soon as he knew that the man had taken a good look at the five of them, taken in their bedraggled appearance and the costumes, and had finally focused on him as being not only the tallest but the one in the costume that would be so iconic to their universe that Peter stood up slowly. Holding his hands up, Peter reached up to his head, and pulled off the mask. The man’s eyes widened in surprise at the face that was revealed to him, taking in the lines, the gray to his hair, the fact that he knew that face, and Peter took another step forward, his hands still held up. He heard Miles gasp in surprise at the sight of him taking off his mask, but he didn’t acknowledge the kid.

“Hola, mí nombre es Peter Parker…” he said in Spanish, it having been the language that he had heard as they entered in the door, and the sight of Miles’ as well as his mother and father all boggling was mildly amusing for a moment. He stepped to the side when he knew he had their attention and gestured to Pete lying still on the ground, Porker finally able to move from on top of him, taking the coat with him. “Please, we need your help,” he finished, and Miles’ mother reacted with a gasp.

They hadn’t bothered to reclothe Pete, knowing that it would eat up too much of their already limited time, and it needed to be removed anyway. It left his chest and the ugly gashes with their black blood and their white webbing visible, as well as the awful discolored bruises on his chalk-white skin. The woman dropped to her knees down next to him, her eyes as wide as possible.

”Dios mío,” she started in soft Spanish, “Why is he so white? What…what happened? Why haven’t you taken him to a hospital?” She asked finally, turning her gaze back to Peter, the questions in English, but they were almost…afterthoughts, unimportant, gesturing at her husband with her other hand in a way that he seemed to recognize immediately. Her husband immediately ran out of the room towards another deeper into the apartment, not only showing that he trusted them but also just how closely-knit their bond was. Peter’s respect grew just that much more in the way only another married couple’s could at the sight of such blatant understanding.

“Alternate dimensions,” Peter started. “He’s from one without color. Like…literally without color, it’s pretty wild. Everyone’s from an alternate dimension.” The woman reached up for his mask to pull it the rest of the way off, and Peter immediately ducked down, “Wait, wait, that’s a no-no. If he wakes up and finds his mask missing, he might think that he’s being held captive.”

She nodded, and that was when her husband returned with a downright impressive first-aid kit. He dropped it next to her and moved into position to grab whatever she wanted.

“What about the webbing, does it need to come out?” She asked.

“No, it’s biodegradable, a bit like liquid stitch, but I…ran out…” Peter blinked.

“Alright. I don’t have any staples, we need to close it the old-fashioned way, does anyone have a blood count or anything?” she asked. Her husband held out a hooked needle that had already been prepared and she took it with a nod of her head, suture thread pulled out and threaded through.

“I have the information!” Peni called out and waved her small stack of paper that she had brought with her. She spread it out next to the woman and began talking to her as the woman started her sutures. As her attention turned to that, her husband’s attention turned to them, but ultimately stuck to Peter. Peter did his best to square his shoulders and stand up straight, doing his best not to squirm under the taller man’s scrutiny. He could do this.

“Who are you?” he asked, squaring his shoulders further and using all of his intimidating height to loom over him. It would probably be more intimidating if Peter hadn’t faced down the Goblin.

“Peter Parker of an alternate universe.” Peter responded, “Can I…ask your name or are you the one going to be asking the questions?”

The man paused, taking him in before finally giving a brusque, “Jefferson Davis. If you’re from an alternate universe how did you get here?”

“Kingpin.” Peter watched the sudden flash of understanding on Davis’ face. “A while back he linked everything up and we all got dragged here. On one hand it was the worst because we were being physically torn apart, on the other…it brought us together, and that was…kind of amazing.” Peter looked to the other Spiders, his expression fonder than he wanted to admit. “We fought to come back together and in particular to get back here because…we had to leave before we were able to help your Spider-Man before we could turn off the collider.”

“You were there? Why did you…why did you have to leave?” Davis took a step forward, his eyes flashing with some odd mixture between anger and concern, and Peter knew that Davis had obviously bonded with the newest Spider. “Do you know what you left him to? Why didn’t you finish the job?”

“Because we were literally falling apart. Our cells were rebelling against being in your world and our bodies were…less than happy about it. We left because we were being more of a hindrance than a help, and because…he wanted us to. Because he knew he could stop Kingpin, and we trusted in that. We trusted in him.” Peter saw the way that Miles was staring at him, the wide dark eyes and the awe written on his face and he didn’t say anything more.

Davis paused, taking in that answer, and finally giving a heavy sigh. “Alright. Alright, I can…I can accept that. But why did you come back?”

“Because we wanted to be sure, and because learning how to be Spider-Man? It can be pretty tough on your own and believe me, I would know. I started at 15 and let me tell you what, balancing homework and saving the world was a pretty tough gig. I owed him a better lesson.” Peter hesitated. “We all saw what happened to your world’s Peter Parker. We’re trying to stick together more so…so what happened to him doesn’t happen to the others that put on the mask. Or at least…if it does, there’s a support-system in place.”

Davis paused, obviously thinking, his head lowering as he took a step back. “Alright. Then what…what happened to him?” he gestured at Pete and Peter took a breath.

“It was a…bad time. We jumped into the wrong spot at the wrong time and...without that warning he wasn’t able to compensate. We were looking for your Spider-Man, but we found your kid instead. Or he found us. When he saw what happened to him and how he was hurt he told us about his mom and about her being a nurse. We…couldn’t take him to a hospital. We couldn’t think of a way to explain the black and white thing, and we can’t exactly be taking off masks everywhere, and…when he promised us it wouldn’t be an intrusion, that you’d help us…we took him up on it.” Peter met Davis’ eyes directly, trying to convey everything, the stress, the worry, and beneath it all the overwhelming gratitude. “I’m very sorry for barging in on you like this, and for asking all of this from you, but…I’m grateful that you were so quick to help us. It means a lot.”

Peter watched as Davis huffed out a sigh and took another step back and felt a bubble of satisfaction rise in his chest.

Still got it.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry for looming and…I trust you. Miles is a good kid, I’m glad he was there when you needed him, though he shouldn't have been anywhere out and about.” Davis turned to look at his son with a frown, and a look that said they would talk later.

“I'm glad that he was there, as well,” Peter agreed without hesitation, turning the conversation and the attention back to him.

“How old did you say you were?” Davis asked him.

“I didn’t, but I’m thirty-seven. Been Spider-Man 22 years, so I’ve got a bit of experience.” He smirked slightly. “Gotta whip these kids into shape.” Just like that, Davis gives a brief huff of a laugh, and a smile slowly spread across his face.

“Alright. I…I have some questions I want to ask you later, but…for now I think I’m good.”

“Good,” Peter returned the grin with one of his own, “Who’s the one helping my buddy?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, that’s my wife, Rio Morales,” Davis introduced. “She’s good, you won’t need to worry about your friend.” Mrs. Morales looked up from looking at the information Peni gave her just enough to give them a nod before going back to reading.

“I’m Gwen Stacy,” Gwen said suddenly, pulling her own mask off and looking up at Jefferson. “I…I’m also grateful for you guy’s helping us.”

“Peni Parker,” Peni said then looking up with her wide and shimmering eyes. “Thank you for this.”

“Peter Porker,” Porker introduced, pulling off his own mask and holding up a hand that…wasn’t wet, Peter saw with a brief flash of annoyance. “Nice to meet you.”

Davis stared down the pig for a moment, before finally reaching out and taking the other’s hand, giving a brief shake. “Um…yeah…? Nice to…um, meet you too?”

Took it like a champ, Peter grinned. He liked these people. Kind of made him feel bad about lying through his teeth, but it was all for Miles. At that thought he finally risked a glance at the teen, catching eyes that were so round and so…amazed they made him feel like he had just moved a mountain, and that was all the confirmation he needed to know that he had truly done good. God, he had missed that feeling.

“I’ve done all I can for him,” Mrs. Morales finally said, looking up at them, brushing her hair back with a black-stained hand. Pete’s chest had been wrapped in gauze, which matched the color of his skin almost perfectly. It was a very discomforting sight, and Peter shifted slightly. “He has cracked ribs, a great deal of bruising, and has lost a lot of blood, on top of what is likely one hell of a concussion, but he’ll live. Judging from the charts Peni printed, he’ll likely be out of it for another few hours at least, but all that leather he seems to be wearing protected him from anything worse. He was lucky." The gaze that she flashed them all was intense, her mouth in a fine line.

The relief that ran through everyone was staggering, Peter finding himself sitting before he even realized what was happening, the other Spider’s dropping into a similar stance.

“Thank @#%&!” Porker shouted out, his hands over his blue eyes, that blond tuft of hair on his head whipping. “I was gonna have to kill him if he died!”

The exclamation broke a scattered laugh out of them, something half-hysterical and half-genuine.

“Watch your language,” Davis scolded, with a slight frown, but he looked happy as well. Mrs. Morales made a sound suddenly, her eyes locked on Gwen's leg.

"You didn't mention anyone else was injured..." she frowned, and they stiffened slightly. What began was more mothering than Peter B could remember happening in a long time. The fight with Lizard had been hard on everyone.

These were good people, Peter finally decided. He was happy that Miles’ had parents like them. When they invited them all to stay with them for as long as it took for their friend to be up and moving, as well as their own injuries to be healed, it solidified that warmth and made Peter hopeful that Miles would be able to open up to his parents sooner rather than later. Peter didn’t really feel bad about lying, but he knew that the longer it took…the worse the fallout would potentially get.

Either way, the rest of the Spiders were there for him, and he promised himself that he’d be there, too.

For now...they would wait for Pete to wake up, and hope that he would forgive them for what had happened.

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