Archive of Our Own ^beta

My name, is Jesper Fahey.

Jesper’s thought process hadn’t always been absolutely spectacular, but he prided himself in being able to, mostly, prevent his brain from having a complete and utter shut down.

I was bitten by a radioactive spider.

But even he was struggling to control his thoughts right now. Even has he ran through that same, internal monologue he always did. The one that always held back his tongue for him, soothed his anger, comforted his pain. His identity, who he was, had always been enough to collect himself.

And for three years, I’ve been the one and only Spiderman.

Jesper’s footsteps were too silent, too soft as he wandered into the wide, open room. The white walls arched over his head, light glittering off them from every angle, hundreds of people walking along their shining length.

The one and only.

It wasn’t even just people that stuck to the walls.

New York’s only Spiderman.

“Fuck me,” he gasped, spinning around on his heel.

I thought I was the only one.

“It can take a lot to get used to,” the woman beside him said knowingly. The Spiderwoman. Because yeah despite Jesper being on his own for three years stopping petty villains from trying to take over his city, it turned out he was one of many people who got bitten by a damn spider. Someone should really start keeping an eye on those things.

“I’m Inej,” the woman said, reaching up to pull her hooded, purple mask off her face. Jesper hesitated for a moment. Years of hiding his identity from the world had apparently sunk its teeth in harder then he’d anticipated. But Inej’s big, brown eyes were warm, her smile soft, and besides, she was a fucking spiderman as well!

Hesitantly, he peeled back his black and gold mask. He didn’t take it off all the way, just enough to show his face. “Jesper,” he replied, taking her hand in his, “Jesper Fahey.”

'The one and only' my ass.

Inej let go of his hand and led him further into the room. He felt a little out of place here, surrounded by hundreds of Spider men and women -and animals- all in an array of red and blue. He stood out, in his black suit, with its gold webbing and emerald green at his sides and underneath his palms. But then, if he stood out, so did Inej. She wore a suit of dark purple and black, with a hood that could be pulled down to hide the bright white eyes.

“I guess we missed the memo,” he murmured, leaning in close and inclining his head towards one of the many blue and red spiderpeople. “Ignore them,” she replied, “they’re all some variation of Peter Parker. They all think the exact same way, honestly.”

Jesper snorted.

He still didn’t really know exactly how he’d managed to land himself in this position. He’d been blissfully fighting off yet another villain of the week, when someone else swung in to help.

He knew now that said someone else had been Inej, but back then all he could think was a very helpful, what the fuck?

“Ghost Spider!” she’d yelled as an introduction and Jesper, thoroughly confused, had shouted back a stuttered, “Spider—Spiderman.”

And now, here he was.

“Ghost Spider?” he asked with a lifted eyebrow as they walked. Inej grimaced, “I was just Spiderwoman, but there’s so many Spiderwomen here and I was tired of people calling me Spider Inej so...” she trailed off with a shrug, “it was that or SpiderWraith.”

“SpiderWraith has a nice ring to it,” he commented, ducking his head to let a –was that a fucking Spider pig?—swing above him.

“You’ll have to pick yourself a new name,” Inej said with a smile, opening a door at the end of the room and ushering him in. Where he was supposed to meet the leader of this ‘Spider Society’. “Or else they’ll end up calling you Spider Jesper.”

Jesper groaned as the door shut behind them, “they most certainly will not.”

♧♧♧

They called him Spider 1989.

It was beyond annoying, but that was apparently his universes number, and he supposed it was better then Spider Jesper.

I’m Spiderman, Jesper thought with a scowl, kicking a stray stone as he walked back home. He couldn’t give two craps if some guy named Peter was also Spiderman. It was his name.

Wasn’t a very creative one, he could concede, but it was his.

All saints, what the hell has he gotten himself into?

♧♧♧

Being a part of the elite, Spider Society, wasn’t half as eventful as he’d initially thought it might be.

Inej had given him a watch, on that first day after his first meeting, and told him she’d contact him of he was needed.

It’s been three weeks, and not a word from her.

That is, until right now.

“Spider 1989,” she said through the orange projection, “you’re needed.”

Jesper winced, holding his wrist up to his face, “Saints don’t call me that.”

There was a moment where Inej didn’t answer, clearly in the middle of a fight, but then, “I can only call you by your name when we’re only in the presence of other spiders, lest your identity becomes compromised.”

Jesper bit back a, but you’re in another fucking universe Inej! And instead said simply, “send on your coordinates, I’m coming,” and eagerly pulled his mask on over his head. He shimmied out of his pants and shirt, leaving on his red converse and black leather jacket before swinging through the large, crackling portal.

A moment of distortion. When his body started pulling itself apart and immediately putting itself back together again.

And then he was swinging out the other side, webs catching hold of a crooked building.

It was his first time visiting another universe, and it was… odd… to say the least. It was like looking through a mirror at an alternate version of New York. This world was that little bit darker then his, buildings tilted slightly to the side and the sky gloomier. The streets were foggy, the roads below deserted except for people in all black hurrying through them.

Everyone was armed.

Huh.

Whoever it was, this city’s Spiderman really had their job cut out for them.

“Spider 1989!”

Jesper winced as Inej swung in to latch onto the building beside him. “It’s Spiderman!"  he shouted over at her, and he swore he could see her roll her eyes behind the mask.

“You’re not Spiderman, I’m Spiderman!”

That voice…

Jesper jumped, violently turning his head to the side to see another Spider swing in beside him. His suit was white with ice blue webbing and black padding on his torso and thighs. His pants part of his suit was baggy, with large bulging pockets along the length of his legs and the same ice blue surrounding his eyes. He, like Jesper, wore shoes as well. Doc Martins, bad choice kid.

There was something… familiar... about this guy, and Jesper just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Spider 1989,” Inej started and Jesper winced again, “this is Spider 717, it’s his universe we’re in.” Spider 717 winced as well, and Jesper couldn’t help but smirk, “they hit you with the numbers too huh?”

“I’m Spiderman,” he grumbled, and Jesper felt those alarm bells ringing in his head again. He knew that voice… from a long time ago.

Before Jesper could remark, Inej and Blue Spider were swinging away again, and Jesper hurried to catch up. “Your world is very dark,” he said between swings, and Jesper watched his eyes squint, “yeah well, my universe is not the nicest,” he said vaguely.

Huh.

Jesper didn’t have much time to think about that however, before the reason Inej called him in became apparent.

“Saints that thing is huge,” he gasped, perching on the top of a traffic light. The thing turned out to be a large lizard, the size of an eight wheeler truck, that was currently in the process of ripping apart a local McDonalds. Did they forget to give him his nuggets or something? He thought dryly, but refrained from saying anything. Both Inej and Blue seemed far too exhausted to deal with any jokes.

“It’s not actually a lizard,” Blue was saying, hanging upside down off someone’s balcony, “he’s a scientist. He was making some sort of serum that would give him powers but something must have gone wrong in the formula.”

“So we don’t kill him, just subdue, yes?” Inej asked, and Jesper would have fallen off the traffic light if his powers hadn’t stuck him to it instead. He hadn’t even noticed her sit beside him.

Blue nodded, “I have an antidote with me,” he patted one of his pockets, “just keep him still enough so I can administer it.”

“And you just happen to have exactly what we need on you?” Jesper said sceptically. Blue's eyes narrowed until the white was only slits against icy blue, “he made it himself. I grabbed it from his lab. He’s—” he hesitated, “he’s a friend.” He said softly.

Jesper and Inej shared a look, but they nodded. Web him up, don’t kill him, Jesper repeated in his head as the three of them simultaneously swung towards the rampant Lizard. He noticed with a start that Inej’s webs were black.

Inej got there first, her black webs wrapping over Lizard's eyes. Jesper landed lightly onto his back, hoping his feet would stick to it and shot his own webs at his muzzle, trapping it shut. Subdue him, don’t hurt him. Jesper wasn’t in the business of hurting his opponents, but they normally weren’t as large or dangerous as this guy.

The back of his mind suddenly sparked like a live hot jolt and he ducked. The thick, muscular green tail sailed inches from the top of his head, exactly where it had been just a moment before. Within seconds, Jesper shot at it before it could collide with Inej, sticky webs strapping it to the tall apartment block. He shot a fewith more at it, just to be safe before jumping off, aiming at the Lizard’s legs.

Each big, car sized foot was equipped with five long talons, and Jesper watched in horrifyingly slow motion as one of them swept towards Spider 717.

“On your six, Blue!” Jesper yelled in warning. His own webs wrapped around the offending claws and he dug his heels into the ground, straining against the pull. Blue whipped around, adding his own webs to the mix, sticking it to the ground, before swinging his way up onto the Lizard’s thrashing neck.

Jesper caught sight of something bright and purple, before Blue was stabbing the creature in the neck. Probably with the antidote, his brain supplied helpfully. He quickly swung up and out of the way, crouching on the roof of someone’s house as the Lizard swayed, then fell, body crashing into the street below him.

He was so fascinated by watching the Lizard’s body start to shrink that he barely noticed when Blue landed beside him, dusting off his palms. “You not staying to comfort your buddy when he comes up?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, despite knowing that Blue wouldn’t be able to see it. The other Spiderman shook his head, gesturing down the street, “police are coming,” he said sadly, “they already have it out for me enough as it is, I don’t tend to like being in their vicinity.”

Jesper nodded. There was something eerily familiar about him, his voice particularly, but even the way he stood, shoulders hunched, head tipped slightly down, that tugged desperately on some memory string.

“So,” Blue said, interrupting his thought process, “Blue?”

“Well,” Jesper shrugged, “you’re Blue? I couldn’t be bothered to scream all those numbers at you.”

“You could just call me Spiderman.” Blue said hotly, with the kind of stubbornness Jesper could relate to. “But I’m Spiderman,” he said with a laugh. Blue’s eyes narrowed, and Jesper had a feeling that he was going to retort and then suddenly Inej was there, clad in the same black and purple. “You’re both Spiderman,” she said with a sigh, “just find yourselves a new alias for when we’re all together, that’s all.”

“Why not use our own names?” Jesper cut in, “we’re in different universes, nobody would recognise our name.”

“For all we know,” Blue said before Inej could, “there might be a version of you in this universe, and if we’re overhead saying your name… it could put 717 version of you in danger.”

Oh. That made sense, actually.

“Well then,” he said, turning the dial on his watch and waiting for the portal back home to form, “until then, you’re Blue, and I’m Spiderman.”

He laughed at the indignant way Blue’s eyes widened, and throwing a quick salute to an amused Inej, fell through the portal before he could respond.

♧♧♧

Life was far less interesting when he wasn’t Spiderman.

Jesper didn’t live a very glamorous life. He lived on his own, after moving out of his father’s house six months ago. He’d dropped out of college roughly five months after joining.

In a lot of ways, Jesper was alone.

He worked his 9 to 5 job as a bartender, he consistently pissed off his boss by calling in sick to go fight crime under a mask, fell asleep as soon as he got home and repeat it all again the next day.

The day his boyfriend died, two and a half years ago, was the day all colour was sucked out of Jesper’s life.

♧♧♧

“I’ve been thinking!” Jesper shouted over at Blue as they fought.

“Very dangerous occupation for you,” Blue yelled back.

For some reason, Earth 717 always attracted the worst villains.

“Rude.” Jesper webbed up the assailants fist, swinging up onto the high rafters to attach his face to the brick wall behind him. Meanwhile Blue had successfully managed to shut down the very dangerous, very powerful bomb.

Jesper jumped down, stepping in time with Spider 717 as they left the warehouse, leaving the group of mafia members to be found by the police that Blue had tipped off. “You were saying?” Blue asked, nudging him with his shoulder.

“My non-Spiderman alias,” he said with a smirk, “what do you think of Sharpshooter?”

Blue’s eyes blinked. “Where the hell did you come up with that?”

Jesper waved his hands dismissively, “easy, I shoot these bad boys,” he demonstrated by webbing up someone’s dusty window, “and I look damn sharp while doing it!” he gestured helpfully at himself.

Blue snorted. Jesper narrowed his eyes.

“Make fun of it all you want,” he said, feeling oddly defensive, “but I’ve yet to hear any of your ideas.”

It was true.

Jesper, being one of the newest members of the Spider Society and Blue having one of the most regularly unstable Universes while never producing any of the ‘big bad villains’, it made sense for them to be paired off whenever something came up that Spider 717 couldn’t handle alone. Which was, every week, at least.

And a lot of those visits were spent arguing and discussing their new alias.

“I have actually!” Blue shot back. Jesper scoffed, “yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well?”

Blue hesitated, turning his face away, eyes squinting in the way they did when he was unsure. He mumbled something that even Jesper’s enhanced ears didn’t pick up.

He nudged Spider 717 right back, “come again?”

If he could only see under the white and blue mask, Jesper could have sworn he scowled.

“DemoSpider,” he mumbled, hunching in on himself.

Jesper blinked. “Huh,” he said uselessly. It wasn’t… the best, but it was a lot better then Spider 717.

“I know it’s not great,” Blue said hurriedly, “it’s just… well I’m a bit of a demolitions expert,” he gestured at his pockets which Jesper had since learned were full of explosives and acids and other random chemical formulas, “and I’m a Spiderman so…” He trailed off, hunching in on himself even more, as if he could only will himself out of existence.

And—

Well Jesper felt a little bad for him.

“I tell you what,” he said quickly, aware that he needed to be heading back home soon, “you can be Spiderman.”

Blue blinked, “what—”

“Of course you’ll have to be DemoSpider or whatever you choose when you’re at headquarters,” he rambled, already turning the dial, “but when it’s just us, you can be Spiderman.”

Blue’s eyes were so wide they were practically big white circles, rimmed with that icy blue. “But—but you’re Spiderman.” He stumbled.

Jesper grinned crookedly, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it, “I am Spiderman,” he agreed, “but I’m also happy to be Sharpshooter. And you’re also Spiderman, and you really like being Spiderman.”

“Okay.” Spiderman’s voice was slightly breathless, and Jesper could feel something within in him crumbling. Something was just so damn familiar about that voice, it was like an itch that just wouldn’t go away.

He tossed him a salute, winking, “I’ll see you around?” Blue, or Spiderman, nodded, eyes blinking rapidly. It was cute. “Yeah, I’ll see you!” he replied with a little wave as Jesper stepped back into the portal, and that familiarity jumped again.

He knew that little wave.

♧♧♧

“Long time no see!”

Jesper was greeted by an upside down Inej as soon as he stepped into the Spider Society headquarters, her long braid trailing the floor. He bopped her on the nose gently, already moving to pull his mask off. It was taking a lot of practice to unveil that part of himself, still trained to always stay hidden. But Inej was always patient, and he did like being able to be himself sometimes.

Besides, no one knew him here.

Inej dropped to the floor soundlessly, the right way up and smiled up at him, “how have you been Jesper?”

Jesper opened his mouth to respond, when another voice cut in first. That voice cut in. Saying his name. Like that.

“Jesper? As in Jesper Fahey?”

Like he did.

Feeling something ice cold crawling up his insides, Jesper turned slowly to see Blue dropping to the ground behind him, a sketchbook clutched in his hand.

He liked to draw.

It’s just a coincidence.

“Heard of me have you?” he said with a fake smile. Beside him, Inej frowned slightly.

Blue shook his head, laughing slightly, “done more then heard of you!” he said cheerfully, already reaching a hand up to pull off his mask, “there’s a Jesper Fahey in my universe as well, funnily enough.”

No!

Something clutched at his insides and he stared in horror as Blue shoved his mask into one of his pockets, ruffling his hair slightly. “Though he's a bit of a dick, actually.” His head was still lowered, preventing Jesper from seeing his face properly, but that hair.

Oh saints.

“I’m Wylan! Wylan Van Eck.”

And—

Oh saints it really was.

The Wylan that stood in front of him now, still wearing his Spiderman suit, blue eyes sparkling and smile bright, was very much Wylan Van Eck.

He was taller, his red hair slightly longer, but he was, in every way, the Wylan Van Eck that Jesper remembered.

Holy fuck.

Jesper couldn’t breathe.

Distantly, he was aware of Inej’s voice, of her soft hand on his elbow, of the way Wylan’s face turned from eager surprise to confusion to worry.

He needed to get out of here.

Jesper gently shrugged off Inej’s hand, turning to fiddle with his watch with a laugh that sounded fake to his own ears, “well would you look at the time!” he said, voice way too high, shaking fingers fumbling to turn the dial, “I’ve got some… things… I need to do back home so… yeah! I’m gonna—gonna go do that. Yeah. Goodbye!”

He pulled on his mask quickly and practically fell through the portal again.

See, the thing is.

Wylan Van Eck was dead.

Jesper had been there.

Wylan had died two and a half years ago, only weeks after Jesper had been bitten, and days after they’d first kissed and he’d agreed to be Jesper’s boyfriend.

And it had been his fault.

Jesper collapsed on his bed with a broken sob.

All saints!

He knew he recognised that voice.

How could he have ever forgotten that saints forsaken voice. The one that haunted his dreams every night since that dreadful day, cursing him and screaming at him.

His fault, his fault, all his fault.

Lifting his head, his eyes met the photo of Wylan that he’d framed and left propped on his bedside table. It was the only picture he had, Wylan was notorious for hating getting his picture taken. It was of the two of them, the day before Wylan died. That sparkling, happy face, destined to haunt him every day for the rest of his life, even when all he could see was the way blood trickled from his open mouth and how his eyes had stared up at him, glassy and unseeing.

Jesper barely even paused to ensure his mask was on properly before he was slipping out the window and onto the roof, running as fast as he could manage across the many rooftops.

He was sitting cross legged on the top of one of the highest buildings in New York, when someone found him.

His Spider sense told him of the arrival well before he even heard it, a soft buzzing in the back of his head. “Didn’t see you as much of a follower, Inej,” he mused, not turning around. His mask was sat on his lap, black, gold and green. The colour choice mocking him.

The gold had always been for Wylan.

“Not Inej,” that voice said, and Jesper closed his eyes.

He sensed someone moving to sit beside him, and he tensed just a little. It’s not Wylan, he reminded himself. Well, it was, technically, but it wasn’t his Wylan.

“Inej sent you, then.” Jesper said.

“No,” Wylan said softly, “came on my own. She’s worried about you though. You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

Without meaning to, Jesper snorted. I kind of did. But he didn’t say that. He didn’t really want to tell 717 Wylan that he’d fallen in love with 1989 Wylan only for him to die in his arms. “I’m just not feeling great,” he said flatly. He could tell that Wylan didn’t believe him, but he didn’t really care.

This Wylan wasn’t his Wylan, but it still hurt like a thousand daggers in his heart just to look at him

.

“This kind of answers my question,” Wylan said softly, fingers fidgeting with one of his pockets.

“What one?”

“Whether or not your Universe has a Wylan.”

Jesper winced before he could stop himself. Had a Wylan. Wylan made a soft noise, “and by the looks of things, he did something to you.”

Jesper closed his eyes tightly and willed the tears not to come. “Something like that,” he managed, but his voice was choked and off kilter.

A soft hand gently wrapped around his knee and Jesper jumped, looking over at Wylan for the first time. He was so achingly familiar that it felt like finding him all over again, even if it wasn’t him. Those soft blue eyes, slightly harder with age and a life lived being fucking Spiderman, but at its core, it was still Wylan.

“Whatever he did to you,” Wylan was saying gently, “I won’t do that to you. I’m not him, you know that, right?”

Jesper tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He failed, and his chest burned, but he managed, just barely, to smile. “I know.” He did know that. And it just made it hurt all that much more.

Wylan smiled, and took his hand back, and Jesper felt something ease within him. He wasn’t better, far from it, and it still hurt like a thousand sun’s just to be aware of Wylan’s presence beside him. But part of him was able to relax now, the part of him that always was at ease around Wylan and Wylan only.

This may be a different Wylan, but he was still a Wylan.

And that still meant the world to him, even now.

♧♧♧

“Need some help Spiderman!” Jesper yelled into his watch.

For the first time, Jesper was the one summoning Wylan to his Universe, instead of the other way around. He’d been in the process of webbing up a casual ‘villain of the week’ when suddenly a bomb had gone off on one of the major bridges, splitting it in half.

The villain had been a diversion.

And now Jesper was caught in the middle, webs desperately trying to hold the bridge together while people fled from their cars.

But Jesper was only so strong, and help didn’t seem to coming quick enough.

He didn’t really know why it was Wylan he called. There were plenty of other members of the Spider Society that were far more experienced then him, but Jesper was panicking, and there had always been one person he’d turned to when he needed help.

He barely registered Wylan confirming that he was on his way, because at that moment the bridge cracked further, sinking towards the river below and Jesper screamed.

He was trapped, here in the middle, surrounded by a spiderweb of his own making, desperately holding on to both ends of the falling bridge. It felt like his arms were being torn out of his sockets, holes ripping the front of his suit from the stretch.

Help, his mind begged hopelessly, as pain exploded from the strain in his shoulders. His grip was slipping, hands trembling where they desperately held onto the webs. Help.

Jesper threw his head back, a wordless yell falling from his lips.

He could do this.

He could.

“I’m here!”

The voice of an angel, forever his saviour.

There was a blur of white and black and icy blue, and then there he was. Wylan, desperately adding his own webs to the mix, swinging around and attaching everything together like he was simply winding thread.

The strain in his arms eased, and Jesper could have cried from the sheer relief.

Wylan was here. Everything was okay.

As soon as he felt like the bridge would hold without his help, Jesper let go of his webs, dropping like a stone until he had just enough awareness to attach a web to one of the railings and swing down instead.

He fell, as soon as he hit the ground, collapsing in an exhausted heap.

Jesper sighed, cheek pressing into the cold ground, feeling the ache of his exhaustion ebb away as his eyes began to drift closed. He was just so tired.

There were hands, then, on his shoulders, flipping him around so that he lay on his back. “Jes?” More hands, on his face now, thin fingers slipping underneath the neck of his suit to press against his pulse. “Jesper? Talk to me, please.”

With a groan, Jesper peeled his eyes open. Everything ached, but when he saw Wylan’s eyes squinting and could practically imagine the way his face would be scrunched up in worry… it ached all that differently.

“You’re not—not supposed to call me Jesper,” he said, voice slightly slurred. Wylan huffed, but Jesper could hear the relief in his voice when he said, “well I’m not calling you Sharpshooter when I’m worried that you’ve lost consciousness.”

With Wylan’s help, Jesper managed to heave himself upright, practically sprawled across his lean figure. His limbs were shaking from the exertion, but Wylan was here, with one hand pressed against his torso and the other on his shoulder. Things were always better when Wylan was there.

Wylan led his stumbling form over to one of the crumbling stones and sat him down gently. “You alright?” he asked carefully, sitting down beside him. He left a little space between the two of them, and Jesper felt a little grateful for that. He liked Wylan, but the line was often blurred between his Wylan and this one, and small things like that helped remind him where he was.

“I’m okay,” he murmured, “better now, that you’re here.”

Wylan’s eyes widened into big, white ovals, and Jesper felt his smile widen along with it. “You’re just saying that because I helped you fix that bridge,” he said, slightly stilted, and Jesper couldn’t help but wonder if this Wylan blushed as easily and as beautifully as his had.

For a long moment neither of them said anything, just catching their breaths and watching warily for sign of any authorities. When the first flashing blue sirens began to ring, they stood again and as a pair, swung off the bridge.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Wylan fiddling with his watch and alarm sparked up somewhere within him. Don’t go yet!

“Hey!” he called over at him, over the wind. Wylan turned to look at him, one eye squinted in that way he did to make sure Jesper knew he was raising an eyebrow. It was horribly endearing.

“My place isn’t too far away,” he said carefully, “if you want, we could get changed out of the suits and go get waffles or something. My treat.”

For the second time that day, Wylan’s eyes widened again, and Jesper felt uncharacteristically nervous.

Then he nodded, “alright,” he called, “sound nice!”

And for the first time in a long time, Jesper felt a certain amount of happiness settle inside him.

♧♧♧

More often then not, Jesper found that he was spending more time at the Spider Society Headquarters then he was at his own place.

Some nights he’d just come home from work, and look around at the cold rooms, the empty fridge and the little photo of him and Wylan on his bedside table, and he’d immediately fall back through the portal, desperate to push away his loneliness for another day.

And more often then not, it was Wylan he ended up spending time with.

It wasn’t planned, initially. But they just kept wandering into each other every time to the point where Jesper found himself waiting for Wylan before going to get food from the canteen.

It was… weird.

Sometimes it felt like he’d stepped back in time, to three years ago when Jesper had only just been bitten and Wylan was there and alive. When the lines between the old Wylan and the new one blurred to the point where Jesper didn’t know where he was. And then Wylan would do or say something totally unexpected and it would jerk him back into reality, reminding him that although this was Wylan, he wasn’t Wylan.

And that was okay.

It was just—

Weird. Sometimes.

That’s all.

But as much as he loved hanging out at the Spider Society, there were things he hated.

See, he liked Sharpshooter. It was a decent alias, unique and catchy, and it certainly described him. But… he just couldn’t help but think that he was Spiderman. He shouldn’t have to give up his name just because some guy named Peter was called Spiderman.

“Do you ever get sick of it? Sometimes?” he asked Wylan one day, when they were sat side by side in the canteen. Wylan blinked at him over the top of his lunch, “of… sandwiches?”

Jesper grimaced, “well yeah that too. But no, I mean,” he waved his hand towards the sea of red and blue surrounding them, “do you ever feel inferior sometimes? As if all you had to do to truly fit in was wear red and blue and turn your name into an alliteration.” He sighed, “it’s bullshit. Everyone else is a Spiderman, but we” he gestured between himself and Wylan, “we have to change our names just because we’re not Peter fucking Parker.”

For a moment, Wylan didn’t answer, just frowned, head tipped slightly to the side in a way that was so familiar that he felt sick. Scheming face, he remembered with a wave of sadness. Then Wylan shrugged, and took a bite of his sandwich, “maybe,” he said, voice muffled, “but all those Peter Parkers are the same.”

Wylan swallowed before continuing, “I mean, think about it. All their parents died when they were young, so they were raised by their Aunt May. And then Uncle Ben told them ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ before dying. They have a fling with a woman named Gwen Stacy before she dies and they marry Mary Jane Watson instead. Don’t you see? All those Peters are predictable, right down to their lunch order.”

Jesper blinked. He hadn’t really thought about that.

“Us, meanwhile,” Wylan barrelled on, “we’re all different. My canon events involved my mom dying, yeah, but it also involved my dad sending me off to be killed, me finding out that my mother wasn’t actually dead, you being a jackass. We don’t even wear the same colours or fall in love with the same people, we’re unique. He may be the blueprint, but we are our own people.”

“You know an awful lot about Peter Parker’s life story,” Jesper said slowly, with the hint of a smile. He barely even knew that much about his own life. Wylan grinned mischievously, “I have a stupidly innocent face so everyone loves to tell me their secrets.”

And Jesper, so caught up the past, said without thinking, “yeah, but I kinda like your stupid face.”

For a moment the table was silent, both of them blinking at each other in equal shock at what Jesper just said. Then, slowly, Wylan’s face started to turn a gorgeous light pink, and Jesper felt something within himself shatter into little pieces once again.

He blushed just like him.

Jesper cleared his throat awkwardly, looking away, “you mentioned me being a jackass as one of your canon events?” He may have been asking purely to distract from what he’d just said, but he was a little curious. Wylan had never mentioned 717 Jesper to him after the initial ‘he’s a bit of a dick’ so you couldn’t blame him for being a little curious.

Wylan coughed, cheeks still flaming, “right. Yes, I did.” He squinted a little bit, clearly deep in thought. It was cute. “You basically spent the majority of our time in High School antagonising me because of who my father is.”

And Jesper grimaced a little at that. He’d done the exact same thing to his Wylan.

“But then just as we started to become friends, you bonded yourself with an Alien Symbiot and tried to destroy the city.”

Jesper blinked in shock. “oh.” He said dumbly. He hadn’t expected that. Wylan grinned, “yeah. Funnily enough, kicking the ass of a real life Alien does wonders for the ol’ confidence and,” he shrugged, “that fight was the one that really made me start believing in myself for once. I am who I am today, and its partly because I put you in jail, which is a little funny, actually.”

Yeah, it was a little funny to think about. “Well,” Jesper said, smiling over the table at him, “time to thank my saints that I was born on Earth 1989 instead of 717.”

When Wylan beamed, one of the smaller holes in his heart started to stitch itself back together.

♧♧♧

The weeks past by in a blur, far quicker then the past two and a half years had gone. Jesper was starting to wake up in the morning eager for the day ahead, instead of lying in bed for an hour and contemplating if he should even get up.

But, as always, with every three steps forward, you had to take a step back.

It’s been three years, to the day, since 1989 Wylan Van Eck died.

Three years since he slipped from the top of a rickety clock tower, and Jesper, so new to his powers, had caught him but he’d caught him wrong.

He had a feeling that the snap of Wylan’s neck would haunt his memory for the rest of his sorry life.

So if Jesper woke up that morning, saw the framed picture on the bedside table and promptly rolled over and sobbed into his pillow… well no one was going to judge him.

Jesper had spent the first two anniversaries in a crappy bar, drinking and gambling away his money and memory, until all he could feel was that aching numbness. Because it felt better, to feel nothing at all, then to feel the horrifying, buckling pain of knowing that the love of your life was dead, and it was all your fault.

This time, however, Jesper never made it out of the bed. He was just too tired. Tired of pain, tired of grief, tired of being haunted by the sheer memory of the worst day ever.

He just wanted to forget.

Eventually though, Jesper did crawl out of bed, and not even bothering to pull on his suit, he turned the dial on his watch and stepped through the crackling portal into Earth 717.

He wanted Wylan.

Even though he knew, he knew that it wasn’t the same Wylan, he still filled up just a little bit of that gaping hole inside his heart, and Jesper craved him.

The first thing Wylan did when he saw Jesper on the street, was immediately slap a hat onto his head. “You can’t just show up like this Jesper!” he hissed, hurriedly rushing Jesper through the streets to where he assumed was his own dwelling, “have you forgotten that 717 you is supposed to be in jail?”

He took one glance at Jesper’s face however, and whatever his expression was it was enough to make Wylan’s eyes soften and he refrained from lecturing him any further.

Shoving Jesper down onto his ratty, brown couch, Wylan crouched in front of him, his warm hands splayed across Jesper’s knees. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, thumbs rubbing light circles over the tops of his thighs. Jesper took in a deep, shuddering breath. He wouldn’t tell Wylan the whole truth, he didn’t think it was very polite to show up to someone house and tell them all about how another version of them died.

“You know how I’ve never actually told you, what happened with 1989 Wylan?”

Something in Wylan’s expression shifted, something behind those eyes hardening, and it further resolved his decision to not tell Wylan everything. He didn’t need to know.

Turning his head, because it was too painful too look into those beautiful blue eyes, his beautiful blue eyes. All he could see was the way 1989 Wylan’s eyes had turned glassy and looked past him, to never look at him again.

“He—he broke my heart. Shattered it, actually, shattered me into a million different pieces and—” Jesper’s voice cracked, but he sucked in one more breath, craving that courage, “—today… today is exactly three years ago, from that day.”

It was a crude summary.

Wylan Van Eck had died because of him, and to reduce his death to something as simple as heartbreak felt like an insult to his memory. But… it was technically the truth. Something had broken inside of Jesper that day, and he didn’t think it would ever heal. He wasn’t so sure that he wanted it to.

Wylan made a noise of understanding, and when Jesper looked back at him, there was a look of such raw kindness that it felt like a slap in the face. It felt like looking back through a time machine, at someone else a long time ago, and all of a sudden the carefully constructed walls around him cracked and crumbled, breaking into pieces as he lurched forward with a broken sob.

There was a deep, icy chasm of pain ripping through his body and Jesper could barely breathe from the force of it.

And then there were hands, gently grasping his shoulders and tugging him forward. There were arms wrapping around his back, a warm body enveloping him in the kind of hug that no one had given him for years. And for a moment, Jesper was frozen in place, limbs unsure, before instinct over took him and he latched onto Wylan like he was a drowning man grasping a lifeboat. Like it was the only thing keeping afloat.

Wylan’s voice was saying something, but Jesper barely heard it, but gently, carefully, he allowed himself to be lulled into a sense of calmness. The pain was still there, but it was always there, and Jesper found that he could manage it now. A bit.

It didn’t feel pitying, the way Wylan held him. It didn’t feel uncomfortable, or obligated, or even half hearted.

 It felt, just a little bit, like someone picking up the fractured pieces of himself, and showing him how to put it back together again.

♧♧♧

“You know,” Wylan said one day, coming to sit down beside him, “you really should be spending more time in your own universe then in mine, aren’t you supposed to be protecting the city and all that jazz?”

Jesper pulled a face. It was true. More often then not Jesper found himself swinging through the portal and coming to hang out in Wylan’s universe after work, before doing his daily rounds of the city.

“It’s fine,” he said dismissively, “I think my version of New York is the most tame one out of all them, there’s like one bad thing happening a week and that’s pretty much it.”

Wylan shook his head in exasperation, but there was a small smile playing on the edge of his lips, and something warm inside him tripled in size. “Why do you keep coming out here anyway? 717 is like… the shittiest version of New York.”

And—yeah. It was. If 1989 New York was a walk in the park, 717 New York was like the upside down version. Everything and everyone was crooked and dark and slightly off kilter.

Jesper sighed, and leaned back on his hands. The two of them were sitting on Wylan’s roof, shrouded by the darkness and masks sitting in a pile at their sides. “Honestly?” he asked, and he felt himself feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Wylan nodded, and he took a deep breath, “I come here for you. Not the city. I like spending time with you when its just us.”

Wylan blinked, eyes wide, and with a little smile Jesper could practically visualise the way the eyes on his mask would have turned into big circles. That ever beautiful blush spread across his face, and as usual there was that ache in Jesper’s chest, but it was accompanied by a flush of warmth now.

1989 Wylan was dead. He was gone forever, and nothing, nothing that Jesper could ever do was going to bring him back.

But 717 Wylan was here. He was here, and he was alive, and he was just as earnestly beautiful as Jesper remembered.

There would always be that ache, that pain from a long time ago, but maybe it was okay, to try and move on to someone else. Maybe. He wasn’t sure yet. But he was trying.

Wylan shuffled a little bit closer, his lip caught nervously between his teeth, and Jesper’s stomach lurched. Their thighs were pressed flush against each other, white and blue contrasting against black and green.

“Jesper,” he said softly, in that beautiful voice of his, with that lilt that had always made his heart flip. Jesper’s heart was pounding in his chest devastatingly loud, and when he properly looked over at Wylan’s face, he saw that those gorgeous blue eyes weren’t looking up at his own eyes anymore.

The conflicting swirl of emotions that bubbled up inside him, were eased when Wylan abruptly leant forward and pressed their lips together and—

Oh.

They were just as soft, just as smooth as Jesper had remembered, from the one kiss they had ever shared, just days before it all went wrong. There was Wylan’s hand, cold from the fabric of his suit, grasping at the base of his neck and just like that Jesper was jerked back into reality.

This wasn’t Wylan.

Well, it was Wylan, but it wasn’t Wylan and—oh was that really so bad?

But the old Wylan had died because of him, and when this Wylan tilted his head to deepen the kiss, all Jesper could think of was that he was only leading 717 Wylan down the same path as 1989 Wylan.

He jerked back suddenly, scrambling to his feet and putting distance between them.

There wasn’t the conflict of thoughts that he’d expected that he would have, on the occasions when he dared to wonder what would happen if he kissed 717 Wylan, but the one that stood out for him was simple.

I’m not letting you get hurt like I let him.

Wylan’s face was pale, eyes wide, but not in the endearing way it was a moment ago, and Jesper suddenly realised he probably should have clarified why he pulled away. Wylan leapt to his feet, putting his hands out as if Jesper was a wild animal that he didn’t want to spook. “I’m sorry!” he gasped out before Jesper could stop him, “I’m so sorry, I thought—but I should’ve asked. I’m sorry—”

“—Wylan!” Jesper cut in, stepping forward so that the tips of their shoes brushed each other’s. Jesper’s scuffed up red converse and Wylan’s battered black doc martens.

1989 Wylan had never worn doc martens. He hated them with a burning passion. He didn’t know why that thought made him smile as much as it did.

They may both be Wylan Van Eck, but they weren’t the same person, not really.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said quickly, cutting Wylan off before he could spiral anymore. Whatever Jesper was feeling, he could see from Wylan’s panicked expression that he was getting things all wrong. “I’m sorry!” Wylan still uttered and Jesper shook his head, smiling softly despite himself.

“It’s okay,” he said gently, “you didn’t—I want to kiss you.” He said the words with a sigh that felt like it had been punched from him, because yeah, he did. He did want to kiss Wylan, he really wanted to kiss him, and part of him wondered why he wasn’t kissing him right now, why any of this even mattered.

“Then why won’t you?”

And—

Because he was scared.

He’d lost Wylan once before, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to survive losing him again. He barely even survived losing him the first time.

He was scared to love him, because he was scared to lose him.

“I loved my world’s Wylan,” Jesper began, and he suddenly realised he’d said exactly the wrong thing when Wylan jerked back like he’d been shot, his expression hardening.

“Oh.” He said stiffly, and he bent to roughly snatch up his mask and no! Panic rose up within him, because no! This wasn’t what he wanted.

“No,” he said uselessly, “no that’s not—”

“—it’s fine,” Wylan interrupted, his mouth pressed in a hard line, “I get it. You loved your Wylan and want to kiss him instead. It’s fine, I know I’m just this Wylan.”

And why was this all going so wrong?

“Wylan, just wait!”

Wylan turned his back on him, shoving the mask onto his head and he braced himself on the edge of the roof, one hand prepared to pull the mask down over his face.

And—

Fuck it.

“I’m scared Wylan!” Jesper shouted, hopelessly desperate. It ached him like a knife through the gut to see Wylan retreating from him like that, hated the knowledge that he’d accidentally hurt him just by messing up and saying the wrong thing. Again.

Wylan paused. He didn’t turn, but he didn’t pull the mask down either and he didn’t leave, so Jesper took it as a win and continued.

“I loved my Wylan,” he said again, “but it backfired on us. It backfired, and people got hurt and—” he closed his eyes for a moment, fighting an internal battle. “I don’t want to see what happened to us, happen to you. You don’t deserve that.”

“And you don’t get to make that choice for me,” Wylan said hotly, turning around with every bit of that fiery temper and oh Saints Jesper really did love him too. “It’s not up to you what I do or don’t deserve, that is my decision to make and I want this.”

He stormed back over to him, jutting his chin out defiantly and watching him with explosive determination in his gaze.

“You don’t understand—”

“—No you don’t understand!” Wylan interrupted, “I am not 1989 Wylan! Whatever he did to you I promise I won’t do that! I’m not him.”

“Wylan please.”

“I might be a different version of him but I am, at my core, me. And I won’t hurt you Jesper, I promise.”

“You’re not listening to me Wylan—”

“So tell me!” Wylan pleaded, eyes desperate, “you’re here trying to make my choices for me and you won’t tell me why!”

And—

Jesper’s last bit of resolve snapped.

“Because you’re dead Wylan!”

There was silence.

Wylan blinked up at him, shocked, his perfect lips parted slightly in surprise. Jesper barrelled on, “you followed me on a job, even when I told you to stay behind, that it was too dangerous. You—” a single tear slipped from his eye and Jesper’s voice wobbled, “you shouldn’t have even been there.” He whispered, “you were supposed to be on the ground, safe, away from the danger but you didn’t. You fell, and I caught you but,” another tear joined the first, “I didn’t catch you properly, and the recoil… it—it snapped your neck.”

Jesper looked away to the side, roughly wiping the tears away. He’d accepted, now, that what had happened, happened, and there was nothing he could do about it. But he couldn’t let 717 Wylan follow in those footsteps. “So, can you promise me? Promise me that you won’t follow me into danger? That you won’t try and put my safety over yours? That you won’t die in my arms, that I won’t kill you?”

Wylan’s eyes were wide, but his expression was determined, “I can’t promise that,” he said carefully, “just like how you can’t promise me that. I am not 1989 Wylan, and I’m so sorry that happened to you Jesper, I really am, but that’s not me! Just because another version of myself died that way… it doesn’t mean that every version of myself will! My death isn’t set in stone, and even if it is, then it is!” Moving slowly, Wylan brought one hand up to cradle Jesper’s cheek, “I’m in danger every goddamn day Jesper. I want to be in danger with you.”

Jesper ducked his head, pressing their foreheads together and he leant into the hand on his cheek. There wasn’t the war raging inside him that he’d initially expected, there was just quiet. There was just love. There was just Wylan.

He wasn’t 1989 Wylan. He wasn’t the Wylan from his own world. And there would always, always be a part of Jesper that would love that Wylan.

But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t love this Wylan too.

It’s not a prophecy.

Jesper took a single, shaky breath. And then he grinned. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” Fuck it. He ducked his head again and pressed their lips together, wrapping his arms around Wylan and pulling him in close, closer even and oh! Oh, oh, oh, just a litany of happy, content thoughts buzzing through his head when Wylan looped his arms around the back of his neck and returned the kiss just as fiercely.

It was everything like kissing the first Wylan, and also nothing like kissing him. It was like returning home and also going on holiday. It was experiencing old comforts and new beginnings and oh Saints, he really, really did love him, didn’t he.

♧♧♧

For the first time in three years, Jesper felt like he was getting better.

It was difficult, dating someone who lived in a different universe. There was no way to keep in contact over the phone, seeing as the numbers didn’t exist and they were limited to only visiting each other’s worlds once a day, lest the superiors got suspicious, but they made it work.

They alternated visiting each other’s universes, date nights in 1989 and surveillance nights in 717. Jesper flew through his 9 to 5 shift with the kind of speed that his boss had never seen before, earning his pay check with a smile instead of a resigned sigh.

“I saw a dog running around in circles today!” Wylan yelled over at him as they webbed up one of Jesper’s usual villains. Jesper grinned, swinging up and out of the way of a spray of bullets before webbing up his gun, “yeah?”

“It reminded me of you!” Wylan punched an assailant in the face, before turning to look at Jesper with his adorable squinty eyes.

Oh saints he loved him.

Jesper dropped down to the ground beside him, rolling his shoulder, “a golden retriever?”

“I think he was a Labrador actually,” Wylan mused, digging himself into Jesper’s side. Jesper responded by wrapping one arm around him and swinging them both away and out of the crime zone. Wylan was more then capable of swinging himself, but he liked being carried and Jesper liked carrying him.

“Movie night tonight, yeah?” Jesper asked, doing his best to stay calm when Wylan buried his face into the crook of his neck.

“If by movie night you mean making out with me until I can’t breathe, then yeah,” Wylan said easily, his eyes squinting into tiny white slits and oh hell.

“Cool,” Jesper said, feeling decidedly not cool at all.

♧♧♧

But sometimes, no matter how hard you try to run away, the past will always catch up to you.

“Inej, Jesper, you two stay on the ground and evacuate everyone from the premises,” Wylan was saying hurriedly, rifling through his many pockets, “I’ll go up there and disable that bomb before it’s too late.”

Jesper looked up from where he was standing at the bottom of the clock tower, and felt something like dread turn in his stomach.

He'd been here before.

They’d received a tip that one of the many gangs in 717 New York had planted a bomb in the top alcoves of the clock tower, an attack to injure the people gathered below waiting for the chime of New Year’s Eve. Wylan wasn’t inclined to believe that it was a hoax.

Wylan was the best equipped for the job. He was small, and he knew his way around a bomb like the back of his hand. That didn’t make it any easier for Jesper to allow him to go up there.

As if he could hear Jesper’s thought process, Wylan lay a careful hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be okay,” he said, eyes squinting reassuringly. Jesper just wished he could see his face. He swallowed and nodded, dropping his head to press their foreheads together, cupping the back of Wylan’s neck with his palm. He inhaled, exhaled, savoured the feeling of Wylan pressed up to him like this.

“I’ll hold you too that,” he murmured, and pulled away just enough that he could see Wylan’s eyes blinking rapidly. “Do you trust me?” Wylan asked, squeezing his shoulder and—

Inhale.

He was scared.

Exhale.

No, scratch that. He was completely fucking terrified.

But—

“Of course I trust you.” Jesper spoke only the truth.

After everything, he trusted Wylan.

So he let him go.

He tipped Wylan’s head down enough to press his masked mouth to his forehead, a poor imitation of a kiss, and then he stepped back with a shaky breath.

“We’ve got your back down here, go on,” he said, sharing a glance with Inej. Wylan nodded, jerkily, then spun on his heel and with a flick of his wrist, attached a web to the top of the clock tower and swung.

“You okay?” Inej asked him gently, pulling up her hood. Jesper nodded, “yeah. I trust him. Ready?”

“Of course.”

As one, the two of them swung over the heads of the awaiting spectators, using the help of the speakers Wylan had given them to warn them of the bomb threat.

Pandemonium broke out amongst the crowd, but Jesper wasn’t focused on them.

Because at that moment, there was that tell-tale jolt of electricity and Jesper whipped around, prepared for a threat.

 From the back of the clock tower he spotted someone dressed in black sneaking into one of the doors, in decidedly the opposite direction to the masses.

Panic flared inside him, alarm bells ringing in his head and Jesper wasn’t sure if that was his Spider sense or his paranoia but he didn’t care, to be honest.

He spared a single, brief moment to worry about Inej all on her own before he abandoned his post, dropping down by the now ajar door.

The clock tower was pitch black when Jesper snuck in, but he could hear the soft footsteps of an intruder making their way up the stairs. He closed his eyes. Somewhere up above Jesper could hear Wylan muttering to himself, and he could just about see the dim light of his torch.

He could use that.

Keeping as silent as he could, Jesper slowly placed a foot on the wall of the clock tower, and started climbing. Jesper’s whole world narrowed down to this moment, right here. He listened to the sound of the shooter’s soft footsteps, and he climbed the wall so silent he was sure to make Inej proud.

All thoughts flew out of his head, just nothing except the single, pounding, save him.

It was a trap.

The bomb may very well not even be a bomb, just a decoy designed to lure Wylan into the clock tower on his own so that he could be killed. It was a good plan, a clever one, and that just made Jesper’s blood boil all that much more. One thing, that they hadn’t counted on, was an overprotective boyfriend with his own Spidersense.

The minutes ticked by slowly, like the counting down of a bomb, and Jesper could feel his adrenaline spiking. He could pinpoint exactly where the shooter was just by listening to him ascend the stairs, but Jesper’s problem was that he couldn’t see him and the shooter couldn’t see him. If Jesper missed the gun and accidently webbed the shooters wrist, Jesper could end up shot himself or a stray bullet could hit Wylan anyway.

So, he had to wait.

Wait until the shooter had entered the glow of Wylan’s torch.

Wait until he could see the threat properly.

Wait until the last possible moment.

His hand brushed against the top of the clock tower and, as silently as was possible, Jesper perched himself on one of the large beams supporting the roof. He could see Wylan, hanging upside down from a web attached to the ceiling, tinkering with a bunch of wires that protruded from a small black box hastily taped to the wall. He could hear the soft footfalls of the shooter ascended the stairs.

And then a pause.

Jesper shifted where he was crouched, moving his hands in front of him in preparation. His spidey sense was going haywire, sparks flying down his spine like that time he’d shocked himself on the electric wire on his dad’s farm.

A shadow, where the stairs met the floor of the attic.

Three.

A hand, raising up, just about visible on the outskirts of Wylan’s circle of light.

Two.

Something small and metal and distinctly dangerous being pointed in Wylan’s direction.

One.

His nerves being set alight with the warning of danger! Danger! Danger!

Now!

Jesper shot a stream of webs at the shooter’s gun, just as he took another hesitant step into the light. Wylan jumped, spinning around but Jesper didn’t stop, shooting another one, two, three times until the man was well and truly webbed to the wall, unable to even squeak.

“Jesper!”

Jesper turned his head to see Wylan land on the beam beside him, ripping off his mask to stare at him with wide eyes. Jesper lifted his own mask up so he could grin at him, toothy and wide and relieved. “Who needs spidey sense when you’ve got me, eh?” he joked.

Wylan let go of his web and started to walk across the beam towards him, eyes gleaming with something Jesper knew by now preceded a kiss.

He grinned.

And then it all went to shit.

Beside him, closer then he’d ever stood to it before, the clock started to chime for New Years.

The whole clock tower started to tremble from the force its chimes, and Jesper just about managed to stick a web to the ceiling to save him from slipping, his spidey sense leaping into action like a live hot wire plugged into his brain.

But Wylan, Wylan. Who had been walking the length of the beam towards him, who had initially landed right beside the hands of the clock. Wylan who reached out to shoot his own web but—

The shooter clicked. Empty. No Web shot out to stabilise him.

Wylan looked up to meet Jesper’s gaze, face pale and stricken, before he toppled over the side.

 Down. Down. Down.

And all of a sudden, time stopped.

Well no, time went backwards.

Suddenly Jesper was transported to three and a half years ago. He was no longer perched on a beam at the top of a clock tower in 717 New York, but instead a clock tower in 1989 New York. It wasn’t New Years anymore but just a regular night, and there was Green Goblin zipping around and Harry and—

And Wylan was falling.

Jesper reacted on instinct.

He jumped.

Three years ago, Jesper had webbed Wylan’s torso and tried to stop the fall from where he had stood. But Wylan had been falling too fast, had fallen too far, that when Jesper grabbed him the resulting whiplash had been too sudden, too fast, and Jesper had been powerless to prevent that god awful snap.

Wylan would have died if Jesper didn’t catch him, but Wylan had also died because of how Jesper caught him.

Jesper had learned from his mistake this time.

Jesper reached out, with his hands instead of his webs, falling through the dusty rafters of the clock tower far quicker then Wylan was.

His fingers brushed the black fabric around Wylan’s waist, and he latched on, pulling him into his arms. Wylan wrapped his arms and legs around him almost on instinct, gripping him so tightly Jesper was certain it would bruise.

But that didn’t really matter, not really.

He spun them round, mid air, so that Jesper was between Wylan and the ground, and he let go of Wylan’s waist with one hand to shoot a single, desperate web onto the wall.

For one, horrifying moment, he thought they’d hit the ground before the web ever attached itself to the wall, and he tightened his hold on Wylan.

Don’t leave me. Not again.

And then—

His arm jerked, he was spun upright in a dizzying flurry of movement and finally—

All was still.

All was silent.

The chiming had stopped.

Wylan was heavy in his arms, his face buried in the crook of Jesper’s neck, legs wrapped around his hips and hands desperately gripping his back. Jesper had one arm slung over Wylan’s shoulders, the other holding onto the taught line of his web so tightly that his nails were dug into the heel of his palm.

They were dangling.

Suspended in mid air, the only thing preventing them from falling the rest of the way was the single web that Jesper had cast in a hopeless, last ditch attempt.

He—

Did he—

“Wylan?” he croaked, not realising he’d closed his eyes until he was suddenly prying then open again. Wylan shifted slightly in his arms, and Jesper could feel his resolve crumbling.

“Jesper?”

Wylan lifted his head, his curls tickling Jesper’s cheek with the movement. His eyes were wide, his face almost as pale as the white of his suit.

He was—

“Wylan,” Jesper said again, but his voice was broken and distorted, and something in Wylan’s eyes shifted. Understanding flooded his features, and then Wylan was carefully relinquishing his grip with one of his hands, bringing it up to cup the side of Jesper’s cheek.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, his thumb rubbing back and forth over his cheekbones. “We’re both okay.”

Jesper’s vision wavered, his throat burning with the tears he’d yet to shed. “You’re okay.” His walls were falling in on themselves, his mind crumbling. He was in two places at once, mind battling between the vision from so long ago and what was in front of him now.

Because he—

He—

“I caught you.” The words were stilted, choked, all wrong sounding as they left his mouth. But how could they be wrong? How could anything be wrong when he did it right.

Wylan’s smile was watery, his eyes shell shocked, but none of that mattered because he was here. He was alive. “You caught me,” he whispered, the lilt of his voice soft and a little wobbly.

And just like that, Jesper fell apart.

A broken sob was wrenched from Jesper’s throat and he buried his face into Wylan’s neck, his free hand gripping Wylan’s shoulder as if it was the only thing holding him together.

And maybe it was.

Wylan’s hands were rubbing soothing circles over Jesper’s back, the warmth of them bleeding through their suits, and Jesper sobbed.

He cried from the relief that Wylan was alive. That he’d caught him, and he’d caught him properly this time. But he also cried from the remembered pain left over from the time he’d failed to catch a different Wylan right. That dagger in his chest, turning in his heart once more.

Jesper sobbed like he had three and a half years ago, clutching Wylan’s lifeless body in his shaking arms, except now he was clutching Wylan’s very much alive body in his arms.

He'd gone back in time, he’d caught the falling boy, he’d stopped the inevitable. He’d turned back the dial and righted that wrong from so long ago, fixed the broken scale.

As they hung suspended from the air, slowly swaying backwards and forwards at the end of a single web, for one of them they were also hung suspended in time. Caught between a night three and a half years ago and now.

Two boys who fell.

Two boys who were caught.

But one was caught wrong, while the other was caught right.

Jesper inhaled. Inhaled the beautiful scent of Wylan’s cologne, the sweet night air, the bitter chemicals painted on the wooden rafts. He exhaled. Exhaled the tension in his shoulders, the tears in his heart, the blame he’d carried within himself all this time.

“I love you,” Wylan was saying into his hair, still clinging to his body like Jesper was all he had left, “I love you so much.”

The knife in his chest loosened. And fell away.

It left a big, gaping black hole in his heart, but maybe, just maybe, it might be able to start healing, just a little.

♧♧♧

3 months later.

The framed picture on his bedside table has never moved since Jesper propped it up nearly four years ago.

He'd looked at it every day since then, taking in their smiles and pushing away the memories for another day. The frame itself had grown dusty in that time, but Jesper always spared a few seconds to wipe away the beginnings of dust from the glass.

But now, for the very first time since he slipped the picture in, when Wylan was groaning in embarrassment beside him, Jesper tentatively picked up the photo.

The photo had aged slightly, the colour starting to fade from too long being exposed to the sun. It stung, a little bit, but it didn’t hurt quite the same as it had for so long.

Taking a deep breath, Jesper carefully turned over the frame, and pried open the back. The picture had been in there for so long it stuck to the glass for a second.

Inhale. Exhale.

Without looking at the picture, Jesper opened up the case of 1989 Wylan’s favourite movie, and gently slipped the picture inside. Then he paused. And looked down.

1989 Wylan didn’t smile the same as 717 Wylan.

717 Wylan’s smile was more crooked, the left side of his mouth tugged up that little bit more. His smile was bigger too, on the rare occasions he didn’t duck his head to try and hide it.

They weren’t the same person.

717 Wylan wasn’t a “new” Wylan. He wasn’t a better Wylan, and he wasn’t replacing 1989 Wylan.

There would always be a part of Jesper that would love his first boyfriend, and a part of him that would always miss him.

But… Jesper was allowed to move on.

Slowly, methodically, Jesper closed the lid of the movie case, the tiny little click ringing in his ears long after he was finished. He left the case on top of the small TV that lived in his room.

From somewhere in the kitchen, Jesper heard the tell tale crackling, whirring sound of a portal opening, and then Wylan’s voice calling a greeting.

He closed his eyes. Inhaled. Exhaled.

And then he left the room, a smile already tugging on his lips.

The frame lay open and empty on his bed. Ready for a new picture.

For a new life.