Chapter Text
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He awoke abruptly, shifting his upper half up, palms flat on the cold, wet, unfamiliar floor. Hot, bright green liquids spilled out like an unclogged facet from his mouth. The burning sensation behind his eyes increased, vision blurring, and his desperate gurgles haunted the otherwise silent room.
His fingers curled in, nails scraping against the rubbery flooring, the imprint immediately being concealed behind the green mixing with the red puddle underneath him.
He coughed the last of the chemical tasting liquid, setting his throat on fire, as he took in lungful gasps of air. Tears rolled down his cheek, dripping from his chin and disappearing into the mesh of green and red below.
The hairs on his arms and on the back of his neck stood, stiff and uncomfortable. His muscles spasmed uncontrollably, arms wobbly as he tried to balance himself. He couldn’t think, not when every nerve in his body was screaming ESCAPE. The intensity of it manifested a shriek in his mind, ripping a choked cry from him.
He pushed himself on his knees. The room spun from the motion, falling onto his back with a thud. His chest followed his greedy gulps of air, the taste of acid flooding his taste buds. His hands flew to his neck, snaking his fingers around and squeezing, as if it would ease the burn.
Where am I? Through the tears, he saw a row of scientific equipment along the decaying walls. A console with dead lights and multiple buttons had a swivel chair stuck inside. The circuit board was dulled in color and split in half for the most part. Wires dangled off the ceiling and the ceiling tiles laid underneath. Notes scattered the floor, some drenched in red. In blood.
Computer screens were black and a dead body hung over one of the monitors. His white coat, soaked in green and red, clung to his body. He could only see the corpse’s back and legs.
He let out a strangled sob, the scent of rotting flesh potent on his tongue. He needed to ground himself—he needed to stop his mind from spiraling beyond return. Who am I? He thought hard, trying to recollect that simple piece of information. His heartbeat pumped unnaturally fast and broke a sweat through his body, despite the cold temperature in the room.
Peter, he told himself, Peter, he reassured. His grip around his throat loosened, lips trembling. Blurry faces flashed behind his eyes, distant words echoed in his mind. A vague collection of moving pictures played rapidly, glimpse of moments that felt oddly familiar.
“Peter.” He rasped, clutching onto the fragments of his alternate selves. His head tingled and he jolted up onto his feet, ignoring the way one side of his body felt heavier than the other. As if drawn to it, he turned to spot someone under a large piece of rubble.
Panic froze his blood, the sound of bare feet slapping against the floor filled the air until P-1 dropped to his knees in front of the body under the rubble. His hand, small, stuck out from underneath along with his hair, face planted into the small pieces of rubble. P-1 grabbed onto the larger piece on top of the body and with tremendous effort, arms flexing in extortion to pry the rubble off.
Despite the fragility of his mind, P-1 threw the rubble off the body, seeing a boy in a hospital grown. The steady beat of a heart reassured P-1 as he carefully turned the boy onto his back. “Hey, hey, are you okay?” His throat hurt to speak, hoarse and much pitcher than what he expected.
He didn’t think about that for now though, more worried about the boy. His face was softer, that much P-1 could tell, even with the debris coating his face in a thin layer of grey, than it was before. P-1 delicately brushed his fingers, now seeing how small his own hand was, along the boy’s cheek, collecting the dust.
“Peter.” He wasn’t supposed to be here. “Come on, wake up.” His hand on P-2’s shoulder gently shook him. P-2’s face stirred, a pained groan escaping as he slowly opened his eyes. P-1 sighed in relief, unable to stop the small smile on his lips.
Dark brown eyes with a ring of green met P-1’s. There was a short moment of excessive blinking, before P-2 leaped away from P-1 in an alarming speed that only they could see. Twisting his body, P-2 fell onto his bottom, shoulders high, eyes wide and breaths panicked. Little fangs peeked under his upper lip. “Peter…” His squeaky voice sounded rough, P-2 flinched.
P-1 raised his hands up. “Yeah, it’s me.”
P-2 stared intensely at P-1, then his gaze settled on his hands and feet. “What…” One hand wrapped around his throat, his eyes dilating.
P-1 rose to his feet, body still heavy, and slowly approached P-2. “I don’t know.” He answered his unsaid question, lowering onto his knees beside P-2. “But we have—”
The spider sense went off simultaneously, the boys snapping their heads to the right, where a smaller boy, stumbled out of a flipped over container, flicking in and out of existence. “Peter.” The boys whispered.
The flashes of P-3 showed him staring at his hands, a gold ring in his eyes, barely noticeable between flashes. “What is happening to me!” He squawked, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes. “I can’t—help me!”
P-1 acted first, stumbling onto his feet and arriving by P-3’s side in a matter of seconds. P-2 acted a millisecond after, standing beside P-3. “Hey, we’re here with you!” P-1 placed his hand on P-3 shoulder and sighed in relief to feel him tangible.
“Can you feel us?” P-2 asked, placing a firm hand on P-3 back, despite his own fears creeping up.
P-3 tearfully nodded his head.
“Good.” P-1 smiled, keeping his voice steady. His fingers twitched once on P-3 shoulder, a subtle betrayal of his calmness. “How about we all take deep breaths and you imagine yourself visible.”
“Yeah, let’s breathe together.” P-2 encouraged, hoping his smile does something to ease P-3 panic.
P-3 looked between the two taller boys and nodded his head again. Following P-1’s lead, the three Peters took in deep breaths. The bitterness of the chemicals lingered, stinging the corner of their eyes. Fumes of hazardous chemicals and the stench of death filled their lungs. Unpleasant, but they opted to ignore it, for the sake of their mentality.
A short breathing exercise later and P-3 stopped flickering. The relief washed over him, his knees bucking and fell back, though, P-1 and P-2 caught P-3 before he could hit the ground. “Whoa, there!” P-2 kept his hand on his back. P-1 held P-3 up by the pit.
“Sorry.” P-3 mumbled in his squeaky tone, steadying himself. “Thank you.” He offered a tired smile, too tired to even process the physical state of the three boys.
“Here.” P-1, the tallest of the boys and the oldest, kneeled in front of P-3, presenting his back to the younger boy. “You’re exhausted. I’ll carry you.”
“I wanna be carried.” P-2 jokingly added, earning a playful eye roll from P-1.
P-3 took a step back, cheeks flushing. “Oh, uh, that’s okay!” His adorable voice rang out. “You don’t have to. You must be egg… eggs–shaw-ted.”
P-1 threw P-3 a convincing smile over his shoulder. “I insist. Besides, you look the most exhausted out of us. I bet that whole ordeal took a lot of energy, huh?”
Despite the obvious fight, P-3’s eyes began to droop, body swaying. “I—okay.” He mumbled in defeat, crawling onto P-1’s back. P-1 rose up once he had little Pete securely on his back, hands holding onto the boy’s legs. P-3’s arms hung loosely around the older Pete’s neck. Within a matter of seconds, soft snoring filled the room, yet did little to soften the worry.
P-1 sighed, tired. “I know you have a lot of questions. I do too.” He spoke before P-2 had the chance to part his lips. He began to walk towards the only exit. “We have to get out of here.” RUN. The manifested voice screamed.
“Yeah.” P-2 quietly replied, wincing as if he heard the voice too. “Something is telling me we do not want to stay here any longer.”
A humorless, but gentle laugh came from P-1. He nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah, same.”
“At least we have each other.”
“Yeah…” P-1 flexed his jaw, pushing P-3 further up his back as he lead the way—or what he hoped was the way out. As the oldest, he’ll ensure his younger selves are safe.
It’s his responsibility, after all.