┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐
chapter eleven
TWO-FACED
└────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘

+note: cozy up and get ready for the longest chapter of the series so far

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

LENA AND GRAHAM stare at the place where Peter and Strange had vanished into thin air, shocked into silence. Several beats pass while they try to process what they'd just seen. It's almost as if they'd never existed— the street is quiet and empty, the sounds of distant traffic permeating the silence.

Finally, Lena speaks. "What the shit?"

"Where did they go?" Graham asks. "I didn't know Strange could teleport without the portals."

Lena shakes her head, her eyes still locked on the last place Peter had been, her heart constricting. "He can't. It must've been something else. I don't really know him that well, so I don't know much about his powers..."

She takes a mental step back from the situation and recalls everything she knows about the sorcerer. He used to protect the Time Stone, meaning he was used to knowing the future and could be prepared for anything. Now he's still grappling with that control being ripped away from him. Everything they do forces him to react in real-time, and their antics are driving him crazy.

"He's a control freak," she says. "He always wants to be the smartest person in the room."

"Don't say that," Graham says with a shudder. "We know who the last person to say that ended up being."

Right. Mysterio had said the same thing when they'd met.

"The point is, he wants to regain that control, right? So maybe he took Peter somewhere that he's in charge of."

"Like another dimension?"

Lena shrugs. "We have people trapped in the basement who are from other universes. It wouldn't be impossible."

She has to convince herself that everything will be fine. It has to be, or else she'll wind up having a complete mental breakdown. She's felt such a chaotic culmination of emotions within the past forty-eight hours, and if Peter is gone, she might just lose her mind. It'll tip her over the precipice she's been dangling on for far too long and shove her into insanity.

Peter is fine. Peter is smart. He'll get through whatever mess Strange has him in.

"I have zero faith in him," Graham says.

Lena shoots him a glare and runs back into the Sanctum, forgetting about the half-frozen foyer and sliding toward the basement steps with her arms windmilling to keep her upright. Her feet thunder down the steps to the undercroft. When she reaches the bottom, her friends turn to look at her.

"What's wrong?" Cindy asks, immediately reading her panicked expression. "What happened?"

"We don't know," Lena answers. She's vaguely aware of how Graham had followed her into the building and now stops at her side. The others look toward the staircase, waiting for Peter, who won't be coming down any time soon. "They just... disappeared. Peter and Strange."

"Well, Peter must be doing something right," Keanu points out. His voice is gentle to soothe Lena's panicked one, reassuring her in her time of need. "I'm — we're — still here. He couldn't have completed the spell or else we'd be back home."

"Or dead," Max Dillon pipes up from his cell.

Keanu winces. "Or dead."

A series of sparks causes all of them to jump, turning toward the orange light to see a portal forming in the air near the crypt. Lena sucks in a sharp breath at the sight as the circle grows larger. She runs toward it, her heart beating in her throat.

"Hey Strange!" Peter's voice exclaims from the other side. "You know what's cooler than magic?"

Strange's scream — either from pain or anger, Lena isn't sure — echoes back.

"Math."

Lena peers into the orange-rimmed portal to see Peter hanging upside down a few feet away, the Macchina di Kadavus gripped firmly in one hand. She looks beyond his figure to see a mind-boggling amalgamation of swirling rocks, flying trains, and canyons tilting in on each other. Everything defies the laws of physics. It makes her brain pulse with confusion the more of the scene she takes in.

"You don't have to do this," Strange says through ragged breaths. She can't see him from where she stands, but he must be incapacitated in some way or else he'd be fighting Peter for the box. The boy uses a web to yank something off of his hand, making him cringe. "Ow."

"I'm sorry, sir, but" — Peter does an abrupt backflip through the portal, making Lena dart out of the way before he can accidentally tackle her — "I have to try."

The portal closes with Strange trapped on the other side.

Abe, holding a cup of coffee with a confused expression on his face, asks, "What?"

Everyone else is just as perplexed. They all flock around Peter, who rises to his feet.

"Dude, what happened?" Ned questions.

Peter's voice is full of excitement, which makes Lena feel relieved that he's okay. "I just had a fight with Doctor Strange and I totally won!"

"What?"

"Look, and I stole his ring thing." Peter holds up the two-pronged ring that Strange uses to create his portals, meaning the sorcerer is stranded. Ned, his mouth open in fascination, takes it from him and puts it on while Peter continues hastily explaining what happened. "I was swinging through the city, and then I went through this" — he yanks his mask off, causing his hair to fly everywhere — "massive mirror thing, and then I was back in this—"

"Where is he?" MJ questions through his rambling. "Where is he?"

He looks where the portal had just been. "Uh, he's trapped, but... I'm not sure for how long."

"Definitely not forever," Lena says, reaching up to tame his wild curls. "I'm shocked he hasn't just teleported here out of pure spite."

From his cell, Otto Octavius speaks up, his voice disbelieving. "You could've just left us to die. Why didn't you?"

"Because that's not who they are," MJ replies matter-of-factly.

Cindy nods in agreement. "Whenever someone's in trouble, they always try every possible method to help the person."

Lena glances over at her friend and gives her a grateful smile. She extends her hand, which Cindy grabs, giving it a supportive squeeze before they let go.

Over the past few months since shit has hit the fan about their identities, Lena thought it would only be fair to explain everything to Cindy — starting from the beginning of her adventures with Spider-Man. She'd told her how Vulture had tried to kill them the night of homecoming. That a quinjet carrying Avengers cargo from the tower to the compound would've taken out Coney Island if Lena hadn't moved it with her energy. How, even though Vulture had left them for dead, Peter still trudged through a fire to save his life.

Even if Cindy hadn't known all of Lena's secrets from the beginning, she's showing her unconditional support now, and that's all Lena can ask for.

"I think we can help you guys," Peter says to the invaders in their cells. "If we can fix what happened to you, then when you go back, things will be different and you might not die fighting Spider-Man."

"What do you mean, 'fix us'?" Dillon questions.

"Look, our technology is advanced, and I wa—"

"I can help you," Osborn offers with a smile. "You know, I'm something of a scientist myself." He nods to the other man from his dimension. "Octavius knows what I can do."

"Fix?" Octavius repeats. "You mean like a dog? I refuse."

Graham pulls a face. "Would you rather die?"

"I can't promise you guys anything, but at least this way, you actually get to go home and have a chance," Peter says. "A second chance. I mean, come on. Isn't that worth trying?"

"Trust me, Peter," Dr. Connors says, his razor-sharp teeth gleaming in the low lighting of his prison, "when you try to fix people, there are always consequences."

"I mean, you don't have to come. I also didn't know that you could talk. But if you stay here, you're gonna have to deal with the wizard."

Connors hums thoughtfully. "Ah, so, we go along, or die. Not much of a choice, is it?"

"I just wanna go home," Flint says with a shrug.

Dillon nods. "Well, I myself don't wanna be killed, especially by a guy dressed like Dungeons and Dragons, so... what's your plan?"

"I have it all under control," Peter reassures them.

Graham and Lena share a knowing look. With Peter, that usually means he has absolutely no idea what he's going to do.

A hand touches her elbow. Lena turns her attention to Keanu, who wears a concerned expression. He waves her over for a little time out in the undercroft.

"We're leaving?" he asks quietly so the others can't hear.

"We have some technology back where we're staying that can help," Lena explains. "There's no tech here, only magic, and that won't get us anywhere. Don't worry— we're actually pretty smart."

"I know that," Keanu says. His eyes shift to something behind her. "That's not what I'm worried about."

Lena follows his gaze to see Farah leaning against the back wall of her cell, twirling a strand of her long, black hair around her finger like she doesn't have a care in the world. Her purple suit isn't illuminated like it was when they saw her in the forest, and there's no sign of her cape made of lights, but she appears no less threatening. A chill slithers down Lena's spine at the mere sight of her.

"That cell keeps her from using her powers," her brother continues. "Do we really want to let her out?"

She ponders this dilemma for a moment, twisting her mouth to the side. "So... we just leave her here?"

Keanu shakes his head. "I don't want to let her out of my sight."

"Well, then we don't have a choice. We can't stay here and it's not like one person can play babysitter with her— especially not when Strange could come back any minute. He doesn't know what she's capable of."

Keanu's jaw tightens, the gears turning in his mind as he considers her words. Lena can see that he doesn't like either option. They're at a crossroads, and neither path appears safe.

But ultimately, he relents with a sigh. "Fine. But here." He removes the silver circlet from his head and places it on Lena's. The intricately entwined metal is cool on her forehead where the front dips into a v-shape. She doesn't feel a difference, but she supposes that's because nobody is attempting to infiltrate her mind yet. "To keep you safe."

Lena's heart swells. Even if this may not be her Keanu and she's not his Lena, there's still a sibling connection between them, and she can safely say that she loves him even if they've only met hours ago. She can tell that though he's had every person he loves ripped away from him, there's still so much kindness in his heart. He cares about her and will do anything to keep her safe. She's not sure how, but she just knows it, like a reflex.

She pulls him into a hug and wraps her arms firmly around him, feeling her eyes grow damp with tears. His arms are strong and secure like a rock anchoring her. She blinks the oncoming tide of emotions away before stepping back.

Keanu gives her a small, closed-lipped grin. Then he faces the crypt and storms toward Farah. His footsteps echoing against the high, stone walls causes her to look up, noticing his thunderous expression and the actual electricity sparking at his fingertips when he stops in front of her.

"Understand this," he says, his voice a deep, threatening promise. "If you so much as step a toe out of line, I will kill you. I will kill you with my bare hands, and you can forget about ever getting a second chance. I don't have the same moral code as my sister and her friends anymore."

The room is silent after that as everyone processes the sincerity of his threat. For the first time, Farah doesn't appear nonchalant. Maybe the desire to survive in her universe is stronger than her tendency to lean toward malice. Because even if Lena hasn't seen Keanu fight, she knows that he'll keep his promise and snap her neck if she tries anything.

While Lena had been talking with her brother, Peter and Graham had decided to leave the Macchina di Kadavus with their friends. Cindy, Abe, MJ, Ned, and the twins will all hang out at Ned's place to keep the relic — and themselves — safe. Lena feels better knowing that her friends will be out of danger. Even if she's going to help these people, she doesn't completely trust them, and would hate for the others to get caught in the crossfire if anything were to happen.

Lena gives each of them hugs, during which Abe tells her to be safe and MJ promises that she'll press the button on the box if anything goes wrong. And then they're gone.

Peter turns to the rest of the people locked in their cells. "So, uh, who's comin' with me?"

Max Dillon shrugs. "Well, I'm in. But, if this goes sideways... Imma fry you from the inside out."

Keanu tilts his head to the side. "I'd like to see you try."

-♕-

Bumping into Ma and Pa in the hallway while six multiverse invaders trail after her was not on her itinerary for the day. At first, her parents don't pay any mind to Norman Osborn and Max Dillon, but then they realize that Flint Marko is made of dirt, and their eyes widen as they take in Keanu and Farrah's suits.

"Heading out?" May questions casually as if this situation is totally normal. She'd picked all of them up in her work's company truck to prevent suspicion and hide the giant lizard they're transporting, so she's already had the run-down of who each person is.

Ma's wide eyes take in Octavius's tentacles that are wrapped around him and linger there as she responds, "Oh, yes. Michael and Rachel are just pulling their car around."

Lena feels a surge of relief that both her and Graham's parents will be out of the apartment for the night— it's already cramped enough as it is, and adding six more people, most with volatile powers, will only add to the chaos. At least they'll have more room to breathe.

Pa's gaze finds hers as Peter continues leading the others down the corridor. "Lena? Anyare?"

"Um, these are people from other universes," she replies, deciding to just bite the bullet and explain the truth. "And there's someone I want you to meet. Ma, Pa, this is my brother."

She grabs the boy by the arm and tugs him closer. He smiles and places his right hand on his chest, giving the adults a polite bow. "Kumusta. Ako ay si Keanu."

Pa's eyebrows shoot up his forehead at the traditional sign of respect and his use of Tagalog to introduce himself. Ever the customary man, he's sure to gain a liking toward Keanu now.

"Ikinagagalak kong makilala ka, Keanu," Ma replies with a smile. "You look so much like Lena. She could be you with a wig on!"

Lena cringes. "Uh, thanks?"

Keanu laughs good-naturedly. "It's nice to meet you, too. Don't worry, I'm going to watch out for her and the boys."

It's clear that Ma and Pa have more questions and could probably talk Keanu's ear off about his dimension, but Lena is eager to get him inside the safety of Happy's apartment before anyone sees him. She bids her parents farewell and pushes Keanu along.

"I'm glad you have them," he says to her as they reach the door.

"Were we not put up for adoption in your universe?" Lena asks.

"We were, but we never got out of foster care. I aged out of the system and became your legal guardian at 18."

There's a tug at her heartstrings. Lena can't imagine not having Ma and Pa — the parents who had chosen her, have loved her as their own — in her life. She'd wondered about their living situation in Keanu's dimension, but now that she knows, it makes her feel a little guilty. She has her friends, adoptive parents, and boyfriend. How could she have been so miserable before when she has more than Keanu does?

She knocks on Happy's door and hears three clicks as each deadbolt unlocks. Peter whisks the door open, ushering them inside with a hand on the small of Lena's back.

"Where's Connors?" he asks.

"He told me he wants to stay in the truck," May replies.

"Okay." He closes the door again, pressing a button on the elaborate security system Happy has attached to the wall.

"Alarm systems deactivated," the robotic voice announces.

"I feel kinda bad using Happy's place like this," Peter whispers to May, who shakes her head.

"No, no, no, no. He'll get over it."

They look into the living room where their guests are settling in. Max Dillon flicks out a hand and turns the television on. Keanu eyes him distrustfully and stands next to Farah to keep her movements under a microscope, causing her to roll her eyes. Flint takes a seat on the sofa. As soon as he makes contact with the cushion, dust plumes from his body and spreads into the air, along with a pile of dirt that lands on the empty spot next to him.

"Oh, sorry," he says, trying to wipe the mess away, but only succeeding in spilling more dirt from his arms.

"Happy is going to murder us," Graham deadpans.

Lena glances over when a movement from the kitchen catches her eye. She notices Osborn inspecting the Dum-E robot and bites her tongue to keep herself from scolding him not to touch it. Even if it's one of Tony's less-intricate assistants, it's invaluable, and she doesn't want to see it tampered with.

"So this is your plan, Peter?" Octavius asks condescendingly. "Hmm? No lab, no facilities, just performing miracles in a condominium? What, you're gonna cook up some cures — some frozen burritos in a microwave?"

"I could go for a burrito," Osborn chimes in from the corner.

"He's gonna kill us all," Octavius retorts back in his direction.

"Well, let's hope not," Peter says, heading toward the bedrooms and patting the man's shoulder as he passes. "You're up first, Doc."

"What?" he turns and hollers after him, "Hey, I told you, I don't need fixing. I don't need fixing! Especially by a teenager using scraps from a bachelor's junk drawer."

"Hey, it's okay," Lena assures Octavius, contrasting his outraged tone with a soft one. His attention turns to her and the hardened expression on his lined face wavers. "If you can't trust him, or even Graham, trust me, okay? We can help you."

"I don't need help,"  Octavius replies through gritted teeth, practically spitting the last word.

Lena thinks for a moment before asking, "Have you always been this angry?"

He opens his mouth to fire back a response, but pauses as the question sinks in. He falters and considers her words. That is enough to confirm it for Lena— there is something wrong with him, something that's made him so spiteful and distrusting, and it's not just from everything he's been through.

Dillon's attention strays from the television to the spare room with all of their technology from Tony. Lena feels the urge to reach it first, so she hurries toward the room behind Osborn, not liking the power-hungry gleam in Dillon's eyes.

"Nah," Dillon says as he walks closer. "He got something back there. I can feel it. Weird energy..."

The room isn't finished, meaning the walls are void of drywall or paint, exposing the plain wood that forms the structure of the apartment complex. Pipes run up and down the boards. It also lacks insulation, causing the November chill to seep in from outside. Each gadget shoved in here is cold to the touch as a result.

Peter pulls a protective sheet off one of their gifts from Tony— a large, metal box about half their heights, its complex mechanisms obscured by the old stickers placed all over its surface. From the outside, it looks like a huge safe.

"What the hell is that?" Osborn asks with a frown.

"It's a fabricator," Peter replies. He presses the power button on the top, allowing the machine to unfold, revealing bright, shiny, metal insides that form into what looks like a workbench. "It can analyze, design, construct... basically anything."

"I thought that was the tanning bed Happy broke," May says.

The arc reactor spirals out and flashes a bright blue. Dillon's eyes spark with electricity at the sight. "Look at that."

"No touchy," Lena tells him, stepping closer to the machine. She doesn't like the enamored expression on his face one bit.

The arc reactor continues to rotate until it finally clicks into place, allowing the fabricator to unfold completely. It slams up and into the wall behind it, creating a ginormous dent. The sound of tiles shattering from the kitchen greets their ears.

Graham was right. Happy is totally going to murder them.

In the meantime, Peter and Lena shoo everyone else out of the room so they can devise a plan. They had initially invited Graham to help them brainstorm, but he'd complained about being hungry and went to go find a snack instead. Even if Osborn had offered his assistance, they want to think of something on their own first. This also gives them a chance to drop their guards for the first time in hours and breathe.

Peter connects the fabricator to his nanotech control pad and uploads the information containing the details of Octavius's artificial intelligence. A holographic diagram of the mechanical tentacles appears above the workbench, followed by stats on the screen on top of it.

Lena frowns as she examines the numbers. There's a red error symbol beside one of the categories, and she turns to point it out to Peter, only to find him staring at her with a small smile on his face.

She raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing," he answers. "It's just... that circle-crown-thing makes you look like a princess."

Lena reaches up and touches the circlet on her head. Its weight has grown so familiar that she'd forgotten about it. Her cheeks warm with a carmine blush at his words.

"Will you be the Han to my Leia?" she asks.

Peter snaps in disappointment. "That should've been our Halloween costume."

Lena pokes him in the side, causing him to flinch back from the ticklish spot. "Hey, I thought Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor was fun. We can do Han and Leia next year."

Her heart spasms in her chest when she registers her own words. They haven't talked much about the future since their university applications had been denied, so for a moment, she worries she'd said the wrong thing. The possibility of their relationship lasting a year, then another, and another, potentially leading to marriage, has crossed her mind, of course. She's never voiced those thoughts aloud, instead keeping them locked up in a secret corner of her heart. She isn't sure if he'd even want the same thing. But Peter's nod reassures her.

"Okay," he says, "but I'm forcing you to watch all of the Star Wars movies with me before then. Honestly, how we've been dating for five months and you can't recite every script by now is atrocious. I need to up my standards."

Lena laughs at his teasing tone, then dramatically deepens her voice, mimicking MJ's from the first day of school. "Yes, my Spider-Lord."

Peter pokes her in the stomach with his eyes narrowed. She laughs again at the contact of the ticklish spot and tries to twist away, only for Peter to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer instead. He presses a kiss to her temple through his own smile.

"I'm kidding," she says, "I'll watch Star Wars." Then, "You're lucky I love you."

Both of them freeze when the confession slips out, their bodies tensing in Peter's embrace. The blood drains from Lena's cheeks. Curse her mouth, which always seems to move faster than her brain at the worst of times.

Peter pulls back. "You... really?"

Lena looks everywhere except at him, her eyes flickering around the small room like the particles of dust floating in the air and catching in the bright light of the fabricator are the most interesting things in the world. She worries that the rapidly-changing appearance of her face is bad for her health. It had just been freezing and void of blood, but now it's unbearably hot and red and her vision is swimming in her state of panic.

In some perfect world, like one of her favorite books, she would have made a dramatic love confession Mr. Darcy or Laurie-style, finding the time to articulate every one of her feelings into words. But much like during their first kiss, she finds herself floundering instead.

"Yes." Her voice is quiet now. Her gaze is downcast and oh God, the spider on Peter's suit is definitely doing a little dance right now, or maybe that's her surroundings turning in on themselves. Is she supposed to feel this lightheaded?

The truth is, she's known for a while. She isn't sure when everything fell into place. It was slowly, building before they'd even confessed their feelings to each other, when she found herself looking for him in every room and studying all of his little mannerisms. Each piece had slid into place like a puzzle leading up to her realizing that the heart-swelling sensation that overpowered her every waking moment was love.

Lena remembers the exact moment she'd recognized the feeling for what it was. They'd been doing homework back in September. She, Peter, and Graham were sitting at Happy's kitchen table, laptops and textbooks sprawled over the wooden surface, when Peter had interrupted his AP Chemistry notes to tap her on the arm and say, "Are you made of Fluorine, Iodine, and Neon? 'Cause you are F-I-Ne."

Graham had immediately groaned and thrown his pen at Peter, but Lena had laughed. She'd looked at the boy with messy curls who was trying not to snicker at his own joke. Who she'd been through hell and back with, who made her heart jump, who knew all of her faults and still wanted to be with her anyway, and thought, I love you.

Because, sure, loving someone is pretty easy. Lena loves her friends. She knows that she's loved Peter for a while. But being in love with him is an entirely different feeling, like looking at him will steal the breath from her lungs every time, and it's scary, feeling that sensation that's much bigger than herself.

Lena draws in a shaky breath. "I love you. I'm in love with you? I'm not sure how to say it."

She longs for Graham's powers, because then she'd be able to melt into the shadows and escape from the embarrassment threatening to swallow her whole. Maybe she can just bang her head against the fabricator and knock herself unconscious.

The cloth of Peter's suit is soft on her face when his thumb touches her chin and tilts it forward, forcing her gaze to meet his. She'd expected his eyes to be wide with shock, and they kinda are, but they're also filled with awe and pure, raw adoration that threatens to make her poor heart burst. A light pink flush adorns his pale skin on the apples of his cheeks and the smooth bridge of his nose. He looks like a dream in the warm, late-afternoon light bathing the room, turning the tips of his curls amber. His eyes are like endless pools of honey.

"I love you, too," he says. Then he teasingly furrows his brows, parroting her ramble. "Or... I'm also in love with you? I'm not sure how to say it back."

Lena laughs as every trace of anxiety disappears. Her hands slide to his shoulders and bring him close enough to press her lips to his. In all of the chaos and stress of dealing with people from other universes, it's a relief to be alone with Peter, who eases all of her worries away with a gentle caress of his hands on her face and his mouth against hers.

She would be content to stay there for the rest of her days. Unfortunately, life has other plans— like Graham barging in with a huge bowl of snacks, saying, "You guys better not be— oh Jesus Christ."

They break apart and Lena presents Graham with her middle finger.

Her friend walks further into the darkening room, the sun setting rapidly and early in the evening thanks to the end of Daylight Savings. The crunch of tortilla chips in his mouth grows louder the closer he gets. He drags a metal stool to a spot across from the fabricator and plops down on it.

"So, got any ideas?" Graham asks. "Or were you just playing tonsil hockey in here the whole time?"

Lena glares at him, but her glower has no effect; he merely pops another chip into his mouth and stares at her expectantly. She sighs and points to the error symbol on the screen. "Something is definitely wrong with one of the connections in his A.I."

Graham nods as if to spur her on, only to stop and blink when she doesn't elaborate. "An error message. That's all you figured out this whole time?"

"Hey, you wanna do this yourself?" Peter retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. "At least we were doing work. You were getting snacks."

Graham tosses a chip at him, but Peter's hand moves lightning-fast to catch it mid-air thanks to his reflexes. He lobs it back at the boy. Graham tries to grab it, only to have it bounce off his fingertips and fall to the ground.

"Five second rule," he says, leaning down to pick the chip up from the dusty concrete floor and eat it.

Lena's nose wrinkles. "You're disgusting."

"You love me."

"One of my many personal flaws." Lena taps the error icon and a piece of the holographic model of Octavius's harness flashes red.

"Let's see..." Peter's brows pinch together as he uses his thumb and forefinger to zoom in on the figure. The red area appears at the top of his spine. "Well, that'll do it."

They spend the next hour determining exactly what's wrong with the chip in Octavius's neck. Once they have it figured out (and Graham eats the entire bowl of tortilla chips), they call Osborn back into the room to update him on their findings.

"So, the chip in the back of Doc's neck was designed to protect his brain from the A.I. system that's controlling these tentacles," Peter explains. "But if you look here" — he copies his earlier action of zooming in on the chip — "the chip is fried. So rather than him being in control of the tentacles, the tentacles are now in control of him. Which, I guess explains why he is so miserable all the time."

"Essentially, he's not Otto Octavius anymore," Lena summarizes. "His technology is using his body like a puppet. We're not talking to him, we're talking to his harness."

"Dude's possessed," Graham adds. Lena shrugs at his way of putting it— he's technically not wrong.

Osborn holds the hologram of the fried chip in his hand with his forehead creased. Lena presses a few buttons on the screen as Peter calls out dimensions, commanding the fabricator to re-create the chip's structure down to the space between the atoms.

The machine prints out each component separately, meaning they have to put it together themselves. Mechanical arms extend outward to hold the tiny metal pieces. Peter puts on a pair of magnifying goggles with a light attached, making him look like a bug, before he starts to attach electrodes with tweezers.

"Remarkable," Osborn says as he admires their careful handiwork. "The technology and you two. When all this is over, if you need a job and you're willing to commute to another universe..."

"Thank you, sir," Lena says with a grateful smile, "but I'm gonna try to get into college before I attempt multiversal travel. And, uh, safely invent it."

She glances over to see Peter's reaction to the offer, only to see him pulling ridiculous faces as he connects each piece, barely daring to breathe lest he accidentally pushes something out of place. She covers her mouth with her hand and turns away to stifle her snort.

As the last piece clicks into place, the arm relaxes.

"It worked," Peter says. His tone is full of awe as he reads each statistic on the screen to check for errors. Luckily, there aren't any. "That totally worked!"

"Yay us!" Graham cheers from behind them.

"You didn't do anything," Lena points out.

"I boosted morale."

Peter snatches the chip out of the extended claw and sprints into the main room of the apartment so fast that his feet slide on the smooth tile. Lena and Osborn share a laugh at his excitement, both of them mirroring each other's smiles. She bounds after her boyfriend with her heart beating elatedly in her chest.

"We got it. We did it. We did it," Peter chants. "Will you send him up?"

"Yup." May leans across the kitchen counter to press instructions on the nanotech controlling Octavius's tentacles. "Here we go! Hold on, Doc."

The mechanical arms rise against his will, gripping onto the railing of the loft above them and hauling the man along with them so he dangles above the first floor. Keanu moves from his spot on Happy's massage chair to stand and watch the ordeal. He has an amused grin on his face at Octavius's cries of protest.

"Oh, will all these humiliations never cease?" Octavius exclaims, trying to wriggle out of his harness, but to no avail— the arms have complete control over him.

Peter takes the stairs two at a time in his anticipation to test their work. "Lee, help me out."

Lena follows after him, but he reaches Octavius first. The man flinches upon noticing that Peter is about to 'fix' him. "You! Keep your science fair project away from me!"

Peter tugs at the collar of the man's jacket to expose the back of his neck. His tongue pokes out from the corner of his mouth in concentration, but Octavius's head is moving too much.

"Hey, it'll work," Osborn assures him from below. "Have faith."

"Says the reckless fool who turned himself into a monster!"

"Hold him," Peter says.

Lena nods and holds out her hands, creating a steady flow of energy that forms a ring around Octavius's head and forces him to stay still. It yanks his chin upright and turns it straight. Since they're dealing with something that can kill him if it goes wrong, they can't risk him moving and ruining all of their hard work.

"What is this?" Octavius demands, noticing that not only can he not escape his harness— he can't move his head. "Don't you dare!"

"Peter, hurry up," Lena hisses.

"I'm — trying." He locates the chip's placeholder: a shiny, outlet-like insertion just along Doc's vertebrae.

"I swear, when I get out of this, we're gonna rip you a—"

Octavius's growled threat cuts itself off the moment the new chip clicks into place. His body sags like a puppet whose strings have just been cut, his head still held upright only by the support of Lena's energy. As soon as she releases him, it lolls forward so his chin rests on his chest.

For a moment, Lena and Peter share a petrified look.

"Doc?" he asks, then after a beat with no response, he repeats softer, "Doc?"

Lena leans over the railing and presses two fingers to the side of the man's neck. A regular thump, thump, thump beats against her skin, but his body is still unresponsive. She'll cry if he's brain-dead.

Peter raises his voice as he calls out his name again. "Doc? Doctor Octavius—"

Lena stumbles back when Octavius's head jerks up with a gasp, but Peter steadies her with his hands on her waist. She clutches at her heart from the fear of God his sudden movement had brought upon her.

Heavy pants escape from Octavius's mouth. His eyes are wide, brows pushed together. It's like he's just woken from a heavy nightmare.

"It's so quiet," he whispers after a moment. "Those voices... inside my head..." He gasps, his voice becoming thick with emotion. "I — I'd almost forgotten..."

"Otto," Osborn says.

"Yes." The mechanical arms lower him back to the first level, proving his newfound control over them. A smile — the first one Lena has ever seen him wear — adorns his face. "Norman. It's me."

Peter flips over the railing and lands in a crouch at Octavius's feet. Lena rolls her eyes at his unnecessary display of agility and hauls herself over it as well, using gentle gusts of energy from her hands to slow her descent.

"Would you look at that," Flint says with a twinge of admiration in his voice.

Peter taps a few buttons on the nanotech control pad. One of the tentacles reaches out and touches the center of his chest, spreading the golden pieces of his suit back together. Instead of the red-and-silver color that had signified Peter's control over them, they've returned to their original rustic design.

"I'm grateful, dear boy. Truly." Octavius reaches out to Peter for a handshake, which the boy accepts. Then he turns to Lena, and the eyes behind his thick black sunglasses cloud with emotion. This is the first time he's looked at her as himself. She can tell that flashbacks are plaguing his vision, bringing tears to his eyes, so she pulls him into a hug that she hopes will break that spell.

"Welcome back," Lena tells him.

"Thank you, my dear."

Once she pulls away, elated by the sense of accomplishment and wonder filling the room, she notices that everyone — except Farah, who still wears her default expression of boredom — looks impressed.

"How can I help?"

-♕-

Night has fallen completely. The apartment's floor-to-ceiling windows bathe it in darkness even with the overhead lights turned on, but the ticking clock hasn't deterred them at all. Progress moves smoothly as they figure out the best way to prevent each person's death upon re-entering their dimension. For Dillon, that's an electricity drainer. For Flint, an anti-collider. For Farah... well, Lena isn't a hundred percent sure yet, which is why she's scribbling ideas in a notebook.

She's as restless as usual, pacing between the brainstorming room and the main one, her brows furrowed and pencil moving fast before she takes a break to examine her notes and gnaw on the eraser. Maybe she should ask Shuri for some ideas. Or would that invoke too many questions about what they're up to? How can she explain why she needs the information without having to divulge the entire backstory?

Lena walks into the kitchen and overhears Peter explaining the electricity drainer to Dillon. The circular device is attached to the center of his chest, its center framed by dull green lights that have yet to illuminate. Dillon's expression is suspicious, causing Peter to ramble, intimidated by his judgmental stare.

"— I'm gonna come back in a second just to check on it, but... keep an eye on the lights. When they're all green, it means all the electricity in your body's dissipated. Well, not all the electricity. I mean, obviously you know you need electricity for your brain to function — your nervous system is — I'm not really sure why I'm explaining electricity to you."

"Yeah," Dillon says, disregarding everything he'd just said. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Peter replies.

He points to the legos that are sprawled over the table. "Are these your Legos?"

Before Peter can answer, the fabricator beeps from the other room, catching his attention. He looks up from the laptop displaying the drainer's progress. "I gotta go. I'll be back."

He jogs to retrieve the anti-collider, sliding past Lena on his way out. She removes her pencil from her mouth and glares at Dillon.

"Don't talk about his Legos like that," she chastises. "I bought him that set for his birthday."

"They're for kids," the man responds.

"Legos are educational and a creative outlet."

"Your boyfriend's into some weird stuff."

Lena shrugs. "He's into Legos and I write bad poetry. Maybe you should get a hobby instead of judging other people's."

She raises her eyebrows at him as a silent challenge to say something else. He doesn't.

When she turns to pace back into the brainstorming room, she finds May standing in front of her with a glass of water.

"You've been working hard all day," she says. "Make sure you take care of yourself, honey."

Lena swallows, finding her mouth parched. She hadn't realized how thirsty she is until she'd seen the cup. This day has been so chaotic that her brain hasn't been sending her the proper signals to eat, drink, and rest. When was the last time she slept?

"Thanks, May." Lena gratefully accepts the water and drains it all in one go.

"You should take a break," May advises, taking the glass back once it's empty. "You've got a little storm cloud above your head. You think so loudly."

Lena shakes her head and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her suit. "I'm almost done. I can't stop now, not when I'm so close to figuring this out."

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad texting Shuri. What time is it in Wakanda again? Would the princess even be awake?

She retreats back into the spare room, where Osborn and Graham (who has actually decided to put his brilliant mind to good use) are scrawling calculations on a board. Octavius peers over their shoulders and makes notes on their work. Peter is in the corner of the room, a screwdriver in one hand and the anti-collider in the other.

Lena stops in front of him and leans down to examine his work. "How's it going?"

"Good," he replies vaguely, a sign that he's deep in thought and only half-processing her words. "Lot of parts to attach, though, so—"

He cuts himself off. Lena's eyes flick upward to see him straightening up, eyes wide and forehead creased so a chasm forms between his brows.

She lays a careful hand over his. "Pete? You okay?"

Her voice falls on deaf ears. He doesn't seem to hear her, standing with robotic movements as he focuses on his senses, trying to pinpoint the threat that's causing his internal alarm bells to ring.

"Peter?" Octavius asks in concern.

Osborn turns away from his calculations to assess the situation. "What's wrong?"

Graham also instantly abandons his notes, his pencil clattering to the ground as he focuses his full attention on Peter. He shares a worried look with Lena. If Peter's Spidey Senses are being triggered, there has to be something awry.

"I don't know." Peter walks out of the room, his posture straight as a rod and shoulders drawn tight. His eyes sweep around every crevice for a sign of what's bothering him. "May?"

"What is it, Peter?" she asks.

The quartet follows him into the open space of the loft. Dread begins to coil in Lena's stomach, sending her nerves alight with burning adrenaline. She doesn't like that Peter can't figure it out right away. This is the longest he's gone without a threat becoming obvious.

Peter stops in the middle of the room, his head moving back and forth as he examines each person from head to toe. His eyes rake down Keanu, then Octavius, then Farah.

"What's happening?" Flint questions.

Dillon's face turns into a scowl. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Peter's calculating gaze sweeps around the room one more time before he inhales a shaky breath and closes his eyes, relying entirely on his sensations to identify the threat. Lena's own breath gets clogged in her lungs. She doesn't dare to move.

His flash eyes open a moment later, his face slack as if in realization. Then he extends an arm fast as lightning and thwips a web toward Osborn, attaching his wrist to the Dum-E robot near the window.

For a moment, Osborn regards the thing holding his hand in place. Then he slowly turns his head back toward them. His voice is deep, gravelly, a sound that causes every single hair on Lena's body to stand straight up in alarm. "That's some neat trick, that sense of yours."

"Norman?" Octavius asks.

The man's grin stretches across his face. "Norman's on sabbatical, honey."

Dillon's perplexed expression looks to Peter for answers. "The hell?"

"The Goblin..." Peter whispers. He glances at May in a warning. Noticing his concern for the only non-super-powered person in the room, Lena positions herself between the Goblin and May, locking her limbs tight in preparation for a force field.

"'No more darker half?'" the Goblin repeats an earlier phrase from Octavius mockingly. May slowly backs into the brainstorming room while everyone's attention is focused on this new revelation. "Did you really think that I'd let that happen? That I'd let you kids take away my power, just because you're blind to what true power can bring you?"

"You don't know me," Peter retorts. "You don't know us."

"Don't I? I saw how she trapped you, fighting her... holy moral mission." As he speaks, May moves back into the room with a canvas bag clenched in her hand. "We don't need you to save us. We don't need to be fixed!" He looks at Dillon, whose electric drainer beeps, signaling another step closer to his powers being depleted. "These are not curses. They're gifts."

Octavius shakes his head. "Norman, no."

"Quiet, lapdog."

"We just want to help you," Lena says.

Those venomous, flat eyes flicker to her, causing her to suck in a breath at how not-Norman they are. They glitter with just a tint of mirth that matches the strange smile still plastered onto his face. "I watched you from deep behind Norman's cowardly eyes. Struggling to have everything you want, while the world tries to make you choose."

Another beep from the drainer. The ring is almost closed; its job is nearly done.

"Gods don't have to choose. We take."

"May," Peter says, "run."

The woman cracks into motion, running toward the front door. Lena whirls around, yelling, "Wait! Graham can—"

Her eyes frantically search the room, but there's no sign of her friend anywhere.

Dillon rips the drainer from his chest and tosses it aside as the Goblin tears himself free of the web restricting him. Dillon's arm reaches out, streaming lightning in the direction of the fabricator. Lena throws up a force field, but it's too late— he has the arc reactor.

"NO!" she cries, about to wreck him with a blast of energy, but Keanu gets there first. He's the only one who can truly withstand Dillon's powers. As a result, the two tumble around the room with electricity tainting the air, bolts of lightning crackling between them.

The Goblin swings his arm upward and knocks Peter into the loft steps so hard it creates a dent where his body hits the metal. His body smacks facedown onto the floor, a groan escaping his lips. Lena grits her teeth and raises a hand to blast the Goblin. But before she can, she's knocked off her feet, her head smacking onto the tile.

Now she knows why she couldn't find her best friend.

In all her life, Lena has never been afraid of Graham. Not when he'd earned his black belt in jujitsu and she'd seen him take down an adult man at the age of eleven. Not when he'd shown her his powers for the first time and she'd witnessed him conjure a shadow creature in his palm, its wicked teeth and red eyes gleaming at her. Because underneath all that, it had still been Graham.

One look and she can tell this isn't him.

His eyes are darker than their usual brown, the veins beneath them a horrible, inky black that tapers back into his normal sepia skin near his cheekbones. A bone-chilling grin reveals his perfect teeth. His smile, usually so sunny and bright, has never appeared more threatening.

Lena risks a glance to her left and notices Farah with her stare trained on them. Her eyes dart to her brother next, but he's busy trying to keep Dillon from frying the electricity in the entire building, fists flying and storm clouds rumbling in the sky above.

Graham raises a foot to stomp her face in just when she returns her attention back to him. She quickly blasts him out of the way before he can bring it down and crush her skull. He tumbles back, slamming into the kitchen table and sliding it into Dum-E.

She doesn't want to seriously injure him, so Lena launches herself at him with a series of physical blows. He ducks to avoid a right hook to his jaw and catches her second attempt in his palm. She wrenches herself out of his grip and uses the momentum to spin and crouch, swiping a leg out toward his ankles. Graham leans his weight on the table and avoids the hit, kicking straight out so his boot connects with Lena's nose.

Even among the chaos of the room, Lena hears the crack before she feels the pain. Her head snaps back in response to the nauseating hit. Fiery agony courses from her head to her toes and back again, blood dripping onto the white tile. Tears flood her eyes, blurring her vision, causing her to curse at yet another thing that will make this battle harder to fight.

Farah releases a dark laugh that Graham copies in sync. The two electric-powered men block her path, or else Lena would concentrate her powers on Farah instead. She has the circlet to protect her and it seems to have done its job. Instead of controlling Lena, the woman had found a different, unprotected mind.

Something like 'Okay, screw this bitch,' crosses Lena's mind before she launches into another volley of attacks, gritting her teeth against the mind-numbing pain that bursts from her nose with every movement. Hot blood drips down into her mouth and stains it crimson. It must make her look demonic as she blasts Graham to catch him off-guard before straightening her palm into a knifehand strike to his throat. He chokes, and she hits him hard in the temple with the side of her fist, hoping it'll at least knock him unconscious.

Luck is not on her side tonight.

By some miracle — maybe by the aid of Farah's control — he stays awake. His hand reaches out to seize her. Lena's heart spasms with fear, knowing that if he decides to drag her into the shadow realm, he could easily leave her there, and they haven't dared to figure out what that means yet. So she squeezes her eyes shut and says a silent apology to Happy before demolishing the nearest window and leaping out of it.

She easily catches herself with jets of energy from her hands and feet. As soon as she reaches the freezing air, a spotlight shines on her from a news helicopter circling the complex, highlighting her every movement.

Graham stops at the edge of the shattered glass. He closes his eyes, concentrating as the shadows around him begin to move. They push and pull as formless blobs for a moment before appendages form. Lena blinks and suddenly a pack of shadow monsters is hurtling toward her, nightmarish creatures howling in search of blood.

She blocks the assault with a protective bubble around herself. Then, she flings her arms outward and cuts through the monstrosities in a single arc, vaporizing them with her cyan light.

The building looks hellish from the outside. From her vantage point, Lena can see the lights on each floor flickering both from Keanu and Dillon's powers and the structural damage that Peter and the Goblin are causing. She yearns to be able to help him, but she can't— not while Graham is in her way, prepared to block her every movement.

"Sorry, Graham," Lena whispers. She hurls a stream of energy at him, knocking him flat on his ass from its force and heat, melting some of the furniture around him. Then she soars back into the apartment and sprints after the path of destruction.

The lights flicker dangerously as she sprints to the hallway and gapes at a crater in the floor. Lena stops at the edge and peers down, glimpsing through countless layers until her eyes discern nothing but darkness toward the bottom. She doesn't hesitate before stepping off the edge and hurtling toward the ground level. The wind whistles in her ears as she falls, unsure when to use her energy to catch herself.

Unfortunately, she's too late when she finally reaches the lowest level. Her feet slam against the concrete with so much force she instantly crumples and collapses into a feeble roll. Pain shoots up her ankles and back through her nose as it rubs against the ground. Blood, thick and heavy, continues to gush from her nostrils, staining her teeth. Her hands sting where she'd skinned them during her fall.

She groans and looks up, her vision swaying and tilting and turning, flashing lights colliding into each other. She's losing her steady train of thought as pain and delirium take over her senses. Red and blue and red and blue and Peter — where is he — where is May?

Blood on her skin. Slippery. Her hands are wet with it. Plumes of dust stick to her skin, invading her lungs, choking her. She hacks a violent cough that makes her lungs spasm.

And there he is. She hadn't seen Peter at first because he's on the ground, the Goblin standing over him. Lena doesn't think before slashing the man with her energy. She's weak and disoriented, so it's not as powerful as it normally would be, and all it does is make him stumble.

He turns toward her, that deranged smile still pulling up his lips, and raises his eyebrows. "Stopped bickering with your friend, eh? Looks like he got you good."

Faster than any normal person should move, he's suddenly in front of her, his hand wrapped around her throat. Lena's nails claw at his skin, her powers flickering around her, as he lifts her off her feet. Her widened eyes meet his gleaming ones as she thrashes and tries to blast him away with her energy that's not listening to her commands.

Peter groans a feeble protest from where he lies in the epicenter of the rubble. As the air is squeezed from her lungs, her face growing cherry-red from lack of oxygen, she finds herself grateful that at least the Goblin's attention is away from him. She'd rather be hurt a thousand times over than have him suffer a single scratch.

"Put her down," May commands. Lena can't tell where she is from her vision that's caving in on itself.

She does see the flash of white that happens when the Goblin grins. "Very well."

He slams her back onto the concrete so hard that her vision goes black at the corners. She's paralyzed by agony, the wind knocked out of her, tears cutting through the dust plastered to her cheeks as they spill from her stinging eyes.

Shattered glass covers the room as the Goblin's glider makes the windows explode. It looms toward its master, whose blurry figure leaps on top of it as it swoops around.

A flash of movement catches Lena's attention. Graham emerges from the shadows and rushes toward her. She can't tell if he's himself or still under Farah's control, but judging by the earth-shattering crack of thunder and lightning that comes from outside, Keanu had noticed his ex-girlfriend's involvement. The world shines pure white for a second in response to her brother's rage.

"Peter, Lena, Graham..." the Goblin tuts. "No good deed goes unpunished. You can thank me later."

He presses a button on the Pumpkin Bomb grenade in his hand to activate it. A final burst of adrenaline makes Lena roll to her knees, her movements sluggish.

Peter screams, "No!" and leaps into the air to bat the grenade out of the way. Lena flings her arms forward to create a force field, but she can only get so far as to cover the nearest person— Graham.

The bomb detonates, creating an explosion that throws Lena back into the wall. All she registers is heat and a searing pain in her ribs before she blacks out.

________

a/n:

a meme about graham when they created doc ock's chip to ease your suffering:

i am SO sorry that this chapter took forever, but i hope the wait was worth it. this was an absolute rollercoaster and hell to write, but i am very proud of how it turned out. i was literally hallucinating while writing it because i was so stuck in the scene, especially with the goblin fight.

i am sorry for making you all sad, but i hope i compensated for the pain with the parkos love confession ??? they're so cute and awkward i was literally crying while editing💓💓💓

i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for reading and showing your support!

also THE PETERS ARE COMING

—kristyn

TRANSLATIONS:

Anyare?: What happened?

Kumusta. Ako ay si Keanu: Hello. I'm Keanu.

Ikinagagalak kong makilala ka: It's nice to meet you