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Peter had never bothered imagining Dr. Strange in a Santa costume. And good thing he hadn’t, because nothing in his imagination could have compared to the real thing. It took everything in him not to laugh at the Doctor’s grouchy expression, contrasting with the bright fuzzy hat and red fur coat. The Eye of Agamotto could still be seen under the white fluff of the collar.
“Not a word,” he threatened. “I lost a bet to America.”
Peter grinned, miming zipping his lips closed as he set his backpack on the floor of his bedroom. Finals were finally over–a couple of which were somehow harder than the entirety of his GED back on Earth 616–and they could finish Christmas preparations here at the tower before the big day. Part of him lamented Strange’s timing, that it would delay him making hot cocoa and arguing over Christmas music with the team upstairs. The much larger part, though, rushed in exhilaration; Strange only visited for one reason, after all.
“Holiday wishes from your friends.” He handed over the letters. “Seems they’ve finished their finals, too, and are back in town for the break. Lucky me.”
“Thank you, Stephen. Can I call back on you for my response?”
He waved off the request. “I’ll be back here the same time tomorrow.”
Perfect. “Merry Christmas! Tell Wong and America I say hi.”
Strange waved as his multiversal, holographic form faded away. Peter still wasn’t sure how the Doctor had figured out how to bring the physical letters across the multiversal borders, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“ Peter,” FRIDAY greeted. “ The Little Miss was wondering when you would come out to do a craft with her that she did at school.”
Peter gripped the letters in his hand a bit tighter, hesitating. Especially after their rocky beginning, he hated keeping Morgan waiting when it wasn’t for an emergency. Still, the last thing he needed was another lecture from Tony about “not being afraid to tell Morgan no when it’s for something important–not an emergency, but important.”
While she didn’t fully understand it, Morgan knew the complications with Earth 616 Ned and MJ, and wouldn’t mind, he was sure.
“Could you tell her I’ll be out soon? Give me like, ten minutes or so.”
“Of course, Peter.”
It was always a struggle to decide which letter he’d open first. His best friend since middle school, or the girl he knew he’d always love? After the second exchange, he just kept rotating them. He’d opened Ned’s first last time, so he gently ripped open MJ’s now.
Peter Parker,
You never tell us enough about the multiverse in your letters. Does Earth 599 have any big Christmas differences? You mentioned that the Avengers are all still alive–have you been able to convince Tony Stark to dress like Santa or something? Like a promotional Avengers event where they all dress up for charity or something? If you do manage it, promise you’ll send pictures in your next letter. I may not be able to show anyone apart from Ned, but Captain America with a Rudolph nose is something I could cherish forever.
My family has always had quiet Christmases, but like a lot of things over the last year, this one feels different. Were you there for Christmas with us at some point? Ned and I tried to convince Strange to let us send a present over there, but he just gave some excuse about “stretching the dimensional bounds of the multiverse” or something. Honestly, learn to challenge yourself a little.
We can give tiny objects, though, like the necklace from our first letters, so Ned and I pooled some money to slip something else inside my letter. Hopefully it transcends multidimensional bounds.
I know you heard enough about my finals in my last letter, but I apparently had more vitriol to spew about that research paper. Better make sure Stark’s little girl isn’t around, because it’s not pretty and you’re one of the best people to vent to; Ned just tried to defend him.
Peter grinned, sitting down on the bed to read more. MJ had mentioned last time how she was almost done with a 5,000 word research paper for a class when the professor announced that there had been a typo on the assignment, and that it was actually a 7,500 word paper. The threats in that letter against Dr. Ward’s life would have taken MJ off Santa’s Nice List for good, but they had been quite amusing to read. This letter was no different.
I hope you have a great holiday, Peter. With love from Earth 616,
MJ
Peter hesitated before pulling out Ned’s letter to read before seeing what “tiny object” MJ had slipped inside her own.
As MJ had said, Ned’s last letter had indeed given Dr. Ward the benefit of the doubt on their paper. That, however, was before they had to actually write the extra two and a half thousand words. Now, his frustration in it broke even Ned Leeds’ easygoing nature. Peter had found the limits of his friend’s academic tolerance, and it was pulling an all-nighter to finish a paper he’d hated to begin with.
I’m just so glad finals are over, Ned wrote, his handwriting calmer after venting about it all. Now my eyes can be exhausted in the morning from playing video games till 2 in the morning, not from reading tiny text on a screen and trying to have intelligent thoughts all night. Just bad Christmas movie marathons and cookie making with Lola now. What kind of cookies do the Avengers like best? We haven’t fully tested the limit of the size of object that Dr. Strange can take between the worlds, and if you send me a Christmas cookie baked by Thor I’ll name my firstborn after you or something.
But tell us about whatever you do! We want to know it all.
Merry Christmas, Peter!!
Ned
Peter glanced at the clock on his nightstand; it was creeping up to the ten minutes he’d told Morgan, but she’d probably understand if he was a little late, right? It always felt wrong to get up and do something immediately after reading the messages from his old friends. He just had to sit there and breathe for a minute or two, to soak in the fact that against all odds, he had gotten back a piece of his friends to keep with him.
He wasn’t sure what to feel when he reached into MJ’s envelope and pulled out a $50 gift card to the coffeeshop MJ had worked at in Queens. Though he usually accompanied Peter 599 and their friends there after school or on the weekends, he hadn’t gone in for a drink recently, despite it being below freezing more often than not. The last time he’d gone there in the winter weather, their Christmas decorations out . . .
Shaking his head, he set the letters and the card in the box Tony had gotten him as an early Christmas present to store them in. He’d figure out the gift card later, along with writing his own letters back to them. That, though, could wait until after crafts and dinner time.
/*/*/*/*/
“Daddy, does each universe have their own Santa, or is there just one that travels to every single universe in one night to deliver presents?”
Peter barely held in a snort, and Tony almost dropped his fork at the unexpected question over dinner with the Avengers. “He–well, given the infinite nature of the multiverse, it would make the most sense that there was one for each universe.”
“Why don’t you ask Thor?” Sam grinned. “According to him, he’s met Santa before.”
Morgan’s eyes went as big as the dinner plates. “ Really?”
“So he says.”
“Hey, speaking of rumors,” Tony added, taking advantage of his daughter’s awe, “I heard one that SHIELD itself has had dealings with the big man in the past. Natasha, Clint?”
Nat leaned back in her seat, smirking slightly. “I can neither confirm nor deny the facts of such a rumor. But frankly, it sounds absolutely ridiculous.”
Morgan pouted the rest of dinner over the fact that Thor and Loki were currently in New Asgard celebrating with Korg and Valkyrie and wouldn’t be back until Christmas Eve next week, leaving her unable to ask him right away about the mystery of St. Nick. Tony comforted her with the reminder that, now that she and the Peters were out of school for the holidays, they could wake up early tomorrow and make cookies for breakfast. Pepper didn’t look happy about it at first, but relented with the combination of her daughter’s puppy eyes and her husband’s reminder that “it’s the holidays, Pep. Calories and sugar intake don’t count at this point in the year, it’s just basic science.”
“Then when Uncle Thor brings Santa over to meet us, we can give him his Christmas cookies early!”
In the meantime, Peter helped distract her by showing her the tutu Pepper had bought for when they planned to see The Nutcracker performed this weekend. Morgan squealed and immediately dragged Peter over to her room to see her twirl around in it.
When she at last began to tire, Peter sat her down in his lap to watch him shoot out his webs from his portable shooters and test out the gloves that he and Tony had been working on. They were supposed to leave him fully immune to the stickiness of his web formula without compromising it for anyone else, and let him mold it as he chose. He kept having to keep Morgan from touching it herself as he shaped it into a snowman, a cat, a star; they hadn’t made a kid’s size for them yet.
She yawned, leaning back against his chest. “We’re gonna decorate the tree tomorrow, right Petey?”
“Yep. We’re gonna do cookies, just like Dad said, and decorate the tree. And then I’m going to go over to May and our brother’s, and help decorate their tree. I’ve gotta do a bit more present shopping for all of you, and we’ll plan out a movie marathon, and Clint and Natasha invited me to join their annual gingerbread house competition, and after I buy all the presents I have to actually wrap the darn things–”
“And we’re gonna go see The Nutcracker and eat candy canes and have a snowball fight–”
Peter laughed. “Well, we’ve gotta have enough snow stick to the ground for that first.” They’d had some snowfall the last couple of weeks, but it had yet to stick to the ground for more than half a day before melting. “And I hate to break it to you, kiddo, but I can’t really eat peppermint.”
She pouted. “Really?”
“Messes with my Spider DNA. Isn’t it the same with your first Peter?”
“Was hoping it was something different between the universes.”
“Ah. Sorry to disappoint.”
“S’okay. I’ll just get Dad to eat them with me.” She yawned again, bigger this time, and Peter changed positions to pick her up.
“Come on, Mongoose. Time for bed.”
Tony intercepted them in the hall, holding out his arms for the little girl and shooing Peter off to rest. “I’ll take care of it, kiddo. You deserve some you-time after acing all those finals. ” Peter had rolled his eyes; he hadn’t gotten his grades back yet.
He was tired, though. Holding in a yawn of his own, he sat down at his desk and pulled out a notebook, getting started on a response to his friends for Stephen.
/*/*/*/*/
Something warm yet heavy settled in Peter’s chest as they pulled out the apartment’s Christmas decorations.
It had been a busy morning–Peter hadn’t managed to secure a cookie made by Thor for Ned; his friend would have to settle for a snickerdoodle baked by Steve Rogers. After untangling hundreds of lights for the tree and lifting Morgan a dozen times so she could reach the higher branches, and making sure his finished letters were out for Stephen to pick up–there wasn’t time to write about all their holiday plans, but Peter had crammed in as much as he could–Peter was happy for the relative peace of May and Peter 599’s apartment.
Well, as peaceful as it could be with two Peter Parkers.
Peter 599 swerved before he could trip over a box of ornaments, his stickiness and reflexes probably the only thing keeping the hot cocoas in his hands safe. Peter gratefully accepted one, setting it on the coffee table as he wound tinsel across the faux-pine branches. Peter 599 and May had put it together that morning and gotten out the boxes, so that they could get started as soon as the Peters were ready.
“Hey, what happened to–” Peter 599 cut himself off, cheeks reddening as he took a hasty sip of cocoa that was surely still too hot to be drinking.
“To what?”
599 shook his head. “No, sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Well, technically, you didn’t ask anything.” Peter wasn’t naive, he could expect that his younger brother’s question had to do with Earth 616. There were still plenty of details that his new family here didn’t know about his first universe, but since what they knew was mostly tragedies of the last couple of years, it made sense that they would be nervous to ask him to confess more. He tried to project confidence in his voice when he said, “it’s okay. You can ask.”
He did, after a minute more of hesitation. “I just . . . wondered what happened to you and your May’s Christmas stuff. If you’d brought any over, or . . .”
Peter frowned, taking his own sip of slightly-too-hot chocolate to stall for a moment while he gathered his answer.
“You don’t have to tell me, of course, if you don’t want to, or–”
“No, it’s fine. I-I don’t know what happened to most of it. I managed to save a couple of Christmas photos with Ben and May, but the spell Stephen did to make people forget me did weird things to pictures with me in it. We had to quickly move somewhere safer when my identity was revealed, and since it wasn’t Christmas time yet, I never really thought about what happened to our decorations.”
He didn’t look up to see the–understandable–look of deep sadness in Peter 599’s eyes that inevitably came up whenever he discussed his old world, but he did feel when two familiar arms embraced him.
“Sorry.”
He nodded as he hugged back, smiling when a second pair of arms enveloped them both.
“Well,” May said as she released them. “I guess this just means I’ll have to make duplicates of all of your elementary school Christmas photos.”
/*/*/*/*/
“Hey, what did you get for Bruce?”
Peter 599 glanced up from the shelf. “Haven’t yet. Tony promised to help me brainstorm tonight. What do you have for Morgan?”
“Doll sized hair styling stuff, and–” he rifled around in his shopping bags, “this gift card to Build-A-Bear. They have an Iron Man bear I think she’d like, but I don’t want to make it without her.”
Peter 599 nodded, and glanced down at his arms, similarly laden with bags. While the weight wasn’t a problem, they were all getting a bit clunky to carry. “Maybe we should pick this up tomorrow?”
Peter nodded. “Let’s get them back to the tower.” With the limited space in Peter 599’s bedroom, Peter had volunteered his walk-in closet at the tower to help store the presents in until they were all wrapped and under the tree.
/*/*/*/*/
Logically, Peter knew that the older you got usually corresponded with how exhausted you were at Christmas. There were more presents to buy, more organization put upon you, and more cleaning.
Still, Peter was pretty sure the contrast was a lot worse for him.
Last year, his exhaustion at the holidays came from patrolling every spare moment he had, and studying for his GED, and looking for any way to make rent. It was physical, bone-deep fatigue that finally let him close his eyes at night after pushing away his grief as long as possible. It was looking out at others as they ice-skated and baked cookies in warm homes and laughter with families that he no longer had for himself.
This year was . . . not that. And even if that was a good thing, it was–a lot.
He startled awake at a nudge to his arm, only to nearly stab himself with the scissors still in his hand.
“Whoa, careful kiddo.” Tony quickly grabbed the scissors, placing them on his desk. “Fiver, you got a picture?”
“Yep. I bet May will want it framed for next Christmas.”
“Ditto.”
Peter scowled lightly as he sat up. Tape was stuck to his fingertips, three feet of sparkly gold wrapping paper spread across his legs like a blanket. He groaned, pulling away the tape to rub at his eyes unobstructed.
“Hopefully that gift wasn’t for either of us. Don’t worry, we did our best not to peek.”
“Mm-m.” Peter blearily shook his head, tossing off the paper and stretching to a stand. “Was for May. Did I really fall asleep wrapping presents?”
“Yep.” Tony’s voice was still slightly teasing, though his face had scrunched a bit in concern. “Everything alright, Stitch? Getting enough sleep?”
“Think it’s just the holidays. Just–a lot of holiday.”
Tony shot him a sympathetic glance before slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Well, good thing our next activity is about as restful as you can get in this tower. How about it, Pete, got a favorite Christmas movie to add to the list?”
Peter shrugged. His pick would probably be the same as 599’s–he had grown up watching It’s A Wonderful Life with May and Ben for the holidays–and said as much. Though he did make sure that they were also planning to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas .
The movies ended pretty late–they had paused halfway through the line-up for Pepper to put Morgan to bed–and most of the Avengers excused themselves back to their floor to get ready to go to sleep after, Tony kissing each of the Peters on the forehead before heading to his lab to get a bit of work done and promising not to stay up too late.
Peter was about to get up and unplug the tree to get ready for bed himself, when a hand on his arm stopped him. Frowning, he sat back down next to his brother.
“Everything alright?”
599 huffed. “I’m supposed to be asking you that. I couldn’t stop thinking–and you can say no, of course–but can I ask a couple not-fun questions?”
It was only the begging look in Peter 599’s big eyes that had Peter nodding, assuring him that he would answer as well as he was able.
“What was–” he swallowed, and it looked to Peter like Peter 599 barely wanted the answers to his questions. “Christmas wasn’t like this for you last year, was it?”
Peter took a deep breath, using it to push away some of the tightness in his chest. He knew someone would ask eventually, yet the answers still didn’t come right away.
“No. It wasn’t. It was–only a week or two after I had decided not to try and get Ned and MJ to remember me. After I decided to–let Peter Parker fade away as much as possible. There wasn’t–no, it wasn’t like this.”
Peter 599 nodded, looking upset but unsurprised. “It hadn’t fully sunk in. This time last year, you were–you were alone.”
“I’m not now, though. This–I couldn’t be more grateful for all of this. For all of you.”
“That doesn’t erase what you went through last year.” A hand landed over Peter’s. “And I’m sorry you went through it.”
“Thanks.”
“Let us know if you need a break from anything. We’re happy to meet in the middle for whatever you need.”
Peter nodded, giving his alternate a smile. He did know, and he loved them all for it. It was just hard, a lot of the time, to say it out loud. To dampen everyone’s holiday spirits with his depressing stories when he could just put up with it instead. But that wasn’t what anyone wanted to hear, either.
He took another deep breath in preparation, thinking back to that box by his nightstand.
“Ned, MJ and Gwen haven’t left for vacation yet or anything, right?”
/*/*/*/*/
The bus spit them out along the same street as last time, and it was snowing. Their decorations were exactly the same, and brought a lump to Peter’s throat. He shivered, and not just from the below-freezing temperatures.
Peter 599 stopped beside him when he paused outside the doors.
“They still don’t know me,” Peter whispered. “Not really.”
“But they love you. And they’re there for you.”
They were. He’d go in, and sit next to them, and they would welcome him like the friends they were. The friends he had here, and didn’t intend to lose.
“Yeah. You’re right.”
He pushed open the door, MJ coming over to the counter from where she’d been talking with Ned and Gwen at their booth. She gave them a small smile. “Hey, Ben, Peter. Coffee? It’s illegally cold outside.”
Peter smiled, lighting up at the recognition and spark in her eyes at the sight of her. The sight of her safe, and happy, and knowing him as much as almost anyone in this world.
“No thanks,” he said. “I think I’ll take a hot chocolate, this time.”