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encore
somewhere in the
multiverse...
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IT'S COLD AND dark when he finally finds her.

The wind whistles in Peter's ears, the freezing December air biting through the spandex of his suit as he swings through the bustling streets of New York City. The traffic has started to ramp up as the holiday season approaches. It causes more distractions than usual, each car horn, click of a shoe against the pavement, and snatch of conversation catching his attention. It used to overwhelm his senses, but now he's used to it, along with a myriad of other things that come with being Spider-Man— like constant back pain.

He's tried to do this three times now. On each occasion, he's backed out, trying to justify the delay by convincing himself it's not the right time, or she looks like she's busy, or any other excuse he could come up with. It's certainly not that he's scared. Few things actually frighten him and there's no reason for this to be one of them.

Hell, he just survived a trip through the multiverse a few weeks ago. There's no way something like this would actually make him nervous.

Right?

Before his brain can start drudging up some new excuse — though that Italian bakery on the corner with the good cannolis might be calling his name right now — focus, Peter — he shoots one last web onto the traffic lights overlooking the street and makes a beeline toward his target.

Luckily, this area is less densely-populated than the one closer to Midtown. It means she's the only person on the sidewalk when Peter drops directly in front of her, holds up the bag clutched in his hand, and asks, "Ma'am, is this your purse?"

Lena Santos releases a gasp of fright and stumbles back, a fist raised to punch him in the face. Once her widened eyes recognize his ruby-and-navy suit and the gleaming reflection of his eye mask, she relaxes with a sigh.

It's been a long time since he's taken a good look at her. Sure, Peter occasionally swings by her job during his rounds of checking in on the people in his life — even those who have left — but he's only seen her from afar: a glimpse as he rushes past, a random photo with her posted on someone's social media page. But it's nothing compared to seeing her living and breathing in front of him.

And he's glad to see she looks fine. Good, even. Though she'd been a bit awkwardly tall in high school compared to the rest of her body's proportions, she's grown into herself, made even taller by a pair of heeled ankle boots that leave her just a few inches shorter than him. Her wind-blown hair is softly curled. Most of her outfit is obscured by a thick winter coat that falls to her mid-thigh, but by the looks of it, she'd been out someplace nice.

"I almost hit you!" she exclaims indignantly. The fact that the first thing she does after years of no contact is yell at him is so Lena that Peter feels relieved despite the fury on her face. "And no, that's not my purse."

"I would've dodged it," Peter says. "Spidey senses."

"That still doesn't make it right," Lena argues, shaking herself of the remaining adrenaline that had flooded her veins after his abrupt appearance. "You should know better than to surprise a woman who's walking alone at night."

"Oh, yeah." Maybe he didn't think this through enough. "Sorry."

She stares at him for a moment, and if he could guess, he'd say she was trying to picture him behind the mask and analyze his appearance just how he had done with hers. Picking apart each detail and tracing it back to the things they remember about each other.

It's weird, having been so close with someone only to become total strangers, and now to see each other again.

Whack!

Peter stumbles back when Lena's fist flies into his shoulder, his hand instinctively moving up to cradle the spot. "What—? Ow!"

"You didn't dodge that." She smirks. It's not quite a full smile, but Peter decides that he'll take it.

"I was letting you have that one. You know, as an apology for sneaking up on a woman alone at night."

Lena clearly doesn't believe him, but she nods like she does, anyway. Then she tilts her head to the side and lowers her voice. "What are you doing here, Peter?"

He scratches the back of his head. He had not thought of what to say. His only goal had been to reconnect like the other version of her had suggested, but he hadn't actually prepared for any of the stuff that would happen in between.

"I have a story. To tell you. It's a long one." Wow, this is coming out great. "Would you believe me if I said I met other versions of us?"

Lena blinks. "No."

Of course she wouldn't. Peter probably wouldn't have believed himself. "Well... what if I could prove it to you? Like, not in the middle of this street? Are you doing anything tonight?"

"Not anymore," she replies, a hint of bitterness in her voice. "I had a date. He was a dick. I left him to pay the tab."

"Oh. Sorry." Peter's gaze moves past her head like he's hoping to pinpoint the guy on sight, then give him a Spider-Man knuckle sandwich.

She shrugs. "It's how it's been. So, no, I don't have anything to do tonight, and I'm completely available to hear about your acid trip where you spoke to alternate versions of ourselves."

"Hey! It was not an acid trip. I have not done acid."

Lena rolls her eyes in amusement and then locks her eyes on something. "Peter, seriously, whose purse is that?"

"What?" He looks down at the brown handbag he'd forgotten he was holding. "Oh. I don't know, I found it on the subway tracks. It's empty and ripped. I think a rat pooped in it."

He tosses it aside on the street. Lena follows the bag's movements with her gaze until it lands somewhere near an alley, then stares at him blankly. Peter realizes what he's done about two seconds later and then runs over to retrieve the purse, placing it in someone's trash bin.

When he's done, he jogs back over to her and dutifully puts his hands on his hips. "Spider-Man doesn't litter."

"Right." Lena steps around him and resumes her path down the sidewalk. Peter watches her go for a moment in stupid silence.

"H-Hey! Where are you going?"

She barely turns her head over her shoulder when she replies, "My apartment. You can come with me, or you can just keep standing there."

"It's all the way in East Village."

That makes her stop and turn around. "How do you know that?"

"I... saw it in the Yellow Pages."

"Those don't exist anymore. And they only had phone numbers for businesses."

"Fine!" Peter throws his hands up in surrender. "I was keeping an eye on you... and stuff... okay?"

He half expects her to berate him, to tell him that she doesn't need him skittering on the edges of her life like a strangely avoidant guard dog, to inform him that she can take care of herself, thank you very much. These expectations come from his attempts to talk to her after Gwen's death. The loss of someone so close to both of them should've brought them closer together. Instead, it drove them apart as Lena lost hope. She'd pushed him away every time he tried to reach out, avoided him when their shared friend circles placed them at the same events, and probably blocked his number.

But now, Lena smiles. It's genuine, lighting up her face, and Peter realizes he's been braced for a blow. He relaxes at the sight of her grin.

"You're such a dork," she tells him with a hint of affection in her tone.

"Don't think too highly of yourself, now that I've told you that," Peter says, walking closer. "You aren't the only person I keep tabs on." When she starts to turn as if to continue walking, he decides to test his luck and blurts out, "It would be faster if we swung."

Lena stops again. She doesn't outright protest, though.

"Spider-Man doesn't take the subway," Peter adds as a means of explanation.

She appears to weigh her options — a) walk all the way there together in the freezing cold, b) take the subway herself while Peter swings there and waits for her to get inside and open her window, or c) just take the leap and swing with him.

To his surprise, she chooses the last one. "Fine. But do any fancy tricks and I will throw up on you in revenge."

-♕-

Luckily, Peter does not get thrown up on. He obeys Lena's wishes and keeps things relatively simple, or as simple as he can get while swinging through neighborhoods in New York City, trying to dodge ginormous Christmas trees and hanging lights and a thousand other obstacles that seem strategically placed to block his path.

Lena clings to him like a petrified koala the entire time, her face buried in his shoulder and her nose pressed against his neck. She grips him tight enough that it would be painful if he didn't have his powers. He catches her whispered curses over the wind whistling in his ears. Back in the day, he would've teased her for her fear. Now he stays quiet.

He drops her off in front of her apartment building and waits in an adjacent alley until she opens her window. When he crawls inside, he finds her shivering, already wrapped in a blanket, her cheeks bright pink from the freezing wind even through her makeup. She waves at him to shut the window, and he quickly does, lest he evoke her wrath.

"I'm gonna make hot chocolate," she tells him as she heads toward the kitchen. "Want some?"

"Yeah," he replies, rubbing his hands together to warm them. He hadn't realized how cold he was until the mention of a hot drink. "That would be really nice, actually."

In the safety of her apartment, Peter yanks off his mask. Lena does a double take at the sight of his face. She pauses en route to fill the kettle with water, stopping in her tracks to look him over. She takes in the way his cheeks are tinted pink from hours of patrol in the frigid night air, his hair that's sticking up in all directions, and observes him as if she's looking for something. What it is, he doesn't know, but her expression is unreadable. It lasts only a few beats before she catches herself.

Peter uses the downtime to look around her apartment. It's lively, which isn't surprising given what he knows about her personality. He's glad to see that aspect of her hasn't changed. Plants of varying types rest on nearly every surface, filling the room with vibrant greens from well-watered leaves and colorful flowers. Posters hang on the walls. They range from plant diagrams to musical artists, with even a few containing science puns that make Peter chuckle. A record player sits on a wooden stand. The shelf below it is filled with albums to the point where no more will fit, so another shelf contains the extras that couldn't be crammed in with the others.

Strings of Christmas lights dimly illuminate the room. Other festive decorations give the space the same festive feel as the rest of the city, but the cozy interior is a sharp contrast to the dark and frigid exterior world from which they'd just come.

Lena returns a few minutes later with two steaming mugs that she sets on the coffee table. Then she curls up on the sofa, motioning for him to follow.

It feels different in here than it had on the street. Now, his mask is off. Now, there are four walls constraining them. It's quiet without the ambient noise of the city surrounding them on all sides. It's... intimate.

Peter honestly wasn't sure if he would make it this far. He'd thought she would nip this in the bud before it even began. He didn't expect her to hear him out, and especially not in her apartment, which suggests that she wants to talk to him for longer than an encounter in the middle of the street would allow. Or maybe she's just being hospitable. She's always been good at caring for others.

"Glad to see you're still a maniac when it comes to reading," he jokes, trying to disguise the fact that he doesn't know where to go from here.

Lena's eyes dart to the overflowing bookshelf near her record player. "Once a nerd, always a nerd," she says, grabbing her mug and tapping her fingers restlessly against it. "Now stop stalling and tell me what you came here to tell me."

Well, at least she's still blunt, too. Peter is glad to have someone who always cuts to the chase.

"I can promise you it wasn't an acid trip," he says. "Drugs and alcohol— those things don't work on me. I heal too fast. And I know that well, because I tried using marijuana to calm myself, you know, after—"

After Gwen. Would speaking her name rip apart this moment of serenity between them? He knows she catches his drift, her eyes flickering away from his and a thick swallow becoming lodged in her throat. He can hear her heart skip a beat. Even years later, a reminder of someone you've lost can feel like a slap to the face.

He takes a deep inhale before continuing, "And I wouldn't come all the way here just to pull a prank on you or something. You know that, right?"

A beat. For a moment, he thinks the worst, that she's going to prove just how little trust she has in him. But then she slowly nods and brings her gaze back to his.

"Yeah. I know."

Peter releases a breath of relief. It's a bit more audible than he'd intended, because Lena cracks a small grin.

"So, the multiverse, huh?" she asks, taking a sip of her cocoa. He reaches for his nearly-forgotten mug as well and takes a hearty gulp. "It's real?"

"You don't seem surprised."

Lena shrugs. "I had my theories."

Of course she did.

"Turns out some weird spell opened portals to people who knew about Peter Parker being Spider-Man, and it brought some of them to this one universe. It was kinda like ours, but also not. That Peter was just a kid."

"We were just kids back when this all started," she reminds him.

"Yeah, I know, but — it's weird, being an adult now, because he looked like a baby to me. And that Lena did, too."

Lena is smiling. "Tell me about her."

"Well, she had this group of friends that she cared about more than anything. Her powers were like yours, but they were light blue, and her fighting style was different, too. She was also way better at hand-to-hand. No offense."

"I've been taking classes," she informs him, her expression turning defiant. "For seven years, now."

That is news to Peter. Apparently, he needs to get better at keeping an eye on people.

"Anyway, she was also crazy smart, and had this whole lab that I think was left to her by a mentor who'd passed away or something, and she helped us create cures for the villains that had snuck into her universe. So, if part of you still doesn't believe me, we can find Dr. Connors and Max Dillon— they can vouch for me."

Lena almost dumps her hot chocolate into her lap. "They're alive?"

"Yeah, and not evil anymore. Our cures made it so they wouldn't die when they got back home."

He doesn't mention the fact that, in that universe, Peter and Lena were a couple. It feels like a weird detail to add. Like if he said it, she might think he expected something out of her.

Back in that other universe, Lena had told him snippets of her life story that would probably be the same across most others— things Peter had no idea about, like human experimentation, her brother, and unstable powers. But looking at his version of Lena, he can tell he doesn't need to relay that information to prove that he's telling the truth.

Maybe Lena has had more faith in him than he'd thought.

She takes one hand off her mug, holding it with her palm facing upward. Purple energy swirls through her fingers. "Blue. Hmm."

"Speaking of that, you know who's not blue?" Peter asks. "Max."

"Really? Good for him. I feel bad about calling him Papa Smurf back then."

They both laugh. Peter feels all warm inside, and not just because of the hot chocolate. He didn't realize how much the strain in their friendship has been chipping away at him, and now it's like those pieces of himself are coming back together.

"She made me promise to talk to you," Peter adds. "And remind you that you're a hero."

Lena looks away again. Her eyes are aimed toward a closet, and Peter would bet anything that her suit is tucked away in there, probably in a box that hasn't been opened since she moved in.

"Peter—" she begins, but her voice gets caught in her throat. She swallows to dislodge it. "I don't know if I can—"

"You don't have to decide now," he assures her. "I'm not expecting you too, like, suit up and jump out the window with me or anything. Just... think about it?"

She hesitates, then looks back at him, observing his earnest expression. Finally, she nods.

At least it's something.

This is the most comfortable he's felt around anyone in a long time. Their old banter is back, along with a sense of maturity they didn't have in their teens. The kind that allows them to catch up with each other's lives but also sit in pleasant silence as they enjoy each other's company. Peter begins to dread the moment he'll have to climb out into the freezing air and swing home.

"I know you still live in Queens," Lena says. "Not far from your old place— not far from Aunt May."

Peter gapes at her in surprise.

She grins, appearing almost sheepish. "I've been keeping tabs on you, too."

Once the realization sinks in, once Peter realizes that a part of her has been looking out for him all this time, watching how he's been dealing with everything, he finds himself returning her smile.

Thank God he hadn't taken that detour for cannolis. The sense of fulfillment he feels is better than any pastry, and he's just started a new chapter in his life. One that has Lena Santos in it once again.

________

a/n:

*yells in TASM!parkos*

LOOK AT THEM:

i honestly didn't realize just how good nicole anderson fits as lena until i was gathering gifs and was like.... wow she and hailee look so similar. all versions of lena santos have my heart <3

i hope you guys enjoyed this lil bonus chapter! it was super fun to write, especially from andrew!peter's pov (well, third person, but you know what i mean. it focused on peter's thoughts).

also, here are some literally AMAZING beautiful gorgeous stunning gifs made by skainatblida containing lyrics from songs on the "This Is: Peter and Lena" playlist on my spotify account. she posted them on tumblr for my birthday and i've been meaning to put them in here, but wp's 3mb size limit wouldn't let me, so she downsized them for me !!! so now i can share them with you !!!! EEEEE

THEY ARE SO FANTASTIC !!!!

thank you once again for all of the support you've given me throughout the course of this series! if you want more lena/graham/parkos content, be sure to check out:

1. the pinterest board for this series (linked in the carrd link in my bio, or my username there is just stilestastic)

2. my meet my oc's book, sunshine, which has sections for both lena & graham with fun extra content!

3. my tiktok accounts: stilestastic where i post memes and other things related to my stories/writing (it's private since i show my face but i'll accept you!) & stilestastic.wp where i post edits for my stories

signing off here for the last time,

—kristyn