Peter WHY...

The alternate Peter Parker stirred awake, his body heavy and aching as he lay on a sleek medical table, the cool metal a stark contrast to the throbbing pain in his broken hand and battered ribs. 

His sharp red-and-blue suit, torn and dirt-streaked from the fight with Green Goblin, clung to him, a reminder of the chaos he'd endured. His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the soft, steady glow of overhead lights. The abandoned railway tunnel had been transformed into a fortress, its concrete walls lined with soundproofing, its air still and sterile, no trace of noise or the outside world penetrating its depths.

Where am I? he thought, his mind sluggish as he blinked, taking in the space. His gaze drifted to his arms—IV lines snaked into his veins, secured with neat tape, dripping clear fluid from bags hung on a polished stand beside him. IVs? This… isn't a hospital, he mused, confusion creeping in as he scanned the room. The lair was well-equipped—monitors hummed faintly, and shelves held lab-grade tools, all meticulously arranged. This place—it's advanced. Too quiet, though. What's going on?

His head swam, the edges of his vision blurring as a wave of exhaustion hit, his injuries dragging him back under. Fight… Goblin… broke my hand, he thought, fragments of memory flashing—claws, trees, pain—before darkness swallowed him again. Can't… stay awake… His eyes rolled back, consciousness slipping away in the silent, sterile cocoon of the hideout.

Time blurred, a haze of stillness and faint beeps, until his eyes snapped open again, sharper this time, the fog parting slightly. The same steady lights glowed above, the same medical table pressed against his back, but now a figure stood nearby—Peter Parker (MC).

Peter Parker (MC) stood near a workbench, his red-and-black suit pristine—no tears, no bloodstains, —his mask pulled up to reveal his face, his dark hair tousled. He glanced over as the alternate Peter Parker on the medical table, the IV lines still dripping into his battered frame, his sharp red-and-blue suit a mess of rips and dirt from Green Goblin's assault.

The alternate Peter's eyes fluttered open, meeting Peter (MC)'s gaze, and Peter stepped forward, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Hey, you're awake," he said, his voice warm but steady as he approached. "Good to see you back in the land of the living."

The alternate Peter blinked, his head pounding as he processed the sight—Peter (MC) in his undamaged suit, maskless, standing in a hideout. He's… fine? he thought, confusion swirling. No scratches, no nothing—how's he looking so put-together after that fight? "Where… am I?" he croaked, his voice rough, his broken hand throbbing under the splint.

"You're in my lair," Peter (MC) replied, gesturing to the space—the monitors, the shelves of gear. "Been out cold for 24 hours—took a hell of a beating back there. You're safe here, though. You'll need to rest up a while, let those bones knit."

The alternate Peter's gaze darted around, the silence of the lair unnerving yet reassuring. Twenty-four hours? he thought, shock prickling his spine. Felt like minutes… this place is insane. He's got it locked down. He swallowed, his mind catching up. "Green Goblin—what happened to him?"

Peter (MC)'s expression tightened, his jaw clenching briefly before he spoke. "He's dead," he said flatly, stepping to a locked cabinet and pulling out a small case. He opened it, revealing several tubes filled with dark red blood—labeled with cryptic markings. " Secured these too—the DNA samples he'd collected, including yours. Took 'em off him after."

The alternate Peter's eyes widened, shock slamming into him as he stared at the tubes, then at Peter (MC). "Dead?" he rasped, anger flaring as he pushed himself up slightly, pain shooting through his ribs. "You killed him? What the hell, man?"

Peter (MC) met his gaze, unflinching, his tone hardening. "Yeah, I did," he said, setting the case down with a thud. "You were knocked out cold—crashed through two trees, hand busted, out like a light. I was alone with that psycho. He downed some booster juice—went berserk. Had to end it quick before it got out of hand, before he took more than just blood."

The alternate Peter's fists clenched, his voice rising despite the strain. "You didn't have to kill him! We could've stopped him—locked him up! That's not what we do!" He's gone too far, he thought, fury mixing with disbelief. Killing's not the way—how'd he turn this into a bloodbath?

Peter (MC) stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "What you do? Maybe on your Earth," he shot back, his voice low and fierce. "But I was on my own—he was a monster, hopped up and ready to rip me apart. You weren't there to vote on it. I ended it—fast. Kept us both alive."

The alternate Peter glared, his chest heaving, but the pain forced him back down, his anger warring with exhaustion. He's got a point—I was out, he thought, frustration gnawing at him. But killing? That's a line I don't cross—not like this. He exhaled shakily, his gaze shifting as Peter (MC) reached for something else—a crystalline artifact, glowing faintly green, its edges sharp and arcane.

"Found this on him too," Peter (MC) said, holding up the Siege Perilous, its light casting shadows across his face. "Figured it's how he jumped worlds".

The alternate Peter's eyes locked on it, recognition cutting through his haze. "That's the Siege Perilous," he said, his voice steadying as he leaned forward slightly. "It's a portal device—lets you hop dimensions, Earth to Earth. He used it to travel from one earth to another, to hit other Spiders. Powered by some kinda energy—don't know the details, but it's how he got to this earth."

Peter (MC) turned the artifact over in his hands, his thoughts racing. Siege Perilous—straight out of Ultimate Spider-Man, he mused, his grip tightening. Explains the crack, the multiverse mess. Goblin's tech—dangerous as hell. Gotta keep this locked down. "So it's his ticket between worlds," he said aloud, his tone thoughtful. "Cool."