Chapter Text
The Spiders stood in stunned silence, staring at the empty spot where Miles had once been. The weight of what had just happened pressed down on everyone, thick and suffocating.
Miguel, seething with rage, boiled over. With a roar, he grabbed the console and hurled it across the room. Some of the Spiders flinched at the outburst, but Gwen, Jess, and Peter barely reacted—they were used to it by now.
Peter, ever the mellow one, tried to inject some reason. "Okay, it's not the console's fault," he said with a half-hearted shrug.
Miguel ignored him, his fury palpable. "All he had to do was listen," he muttered bitterly. "Why didn't he listen?"
Gwen, bristling, stepped forward. "Maybe you weren't hard enough on him!" she shot back, challenging him.
Jess stiffened. "Gwen, don't do it," she warned, sensing the brewing confrontation.
But Gwen didn't back down.
Miguel's voice lowered to a dangerous whisper. "You let him go," he accused.
"Me?!" Gwen's voice cracked with disbelief.
"You didn't catch him, Gwen."
Miguel closed the distance between them, towering over her. The room filled with tension as the crowd of Spiders watched, caught between loyalty and doubt.
Peter tried to defuse the situation. "Okay, let's all just take a breath—"
Gwen snapped at him. "Peter, you want to back me up?!"
Before Peter could respond, Jess cut him off. "Stop talking," she said curtly.
Gwen tried again, hoping reason would prevail. "Let me just talk to him—"
Miguel shut her down coldly. "We tried that."
"He's my friend," she insisted.
His response was cutting. "Yeah. And that's the problem."
Gwen's resolve hardened. "Do you know for certain what happens if he breaks the canon?" she challenged.
Miguel's gaze darkened. "Do you want to find out?" he shot back.
Turning to Jess, Miguel spoke with finality. "I told you she was a liability."
He began backing Gwen toward the platform's edge, where one wrong step would send her plummeting into the ominous, swirling void below. But Gwen stood her ground. "You're wrong," she declared.
Desperate, she looked to Jess. "Jess, tell him he's wrong," she pleaded.
Jess's answer was like a punch to the gut. "He's not," she said without hesitation.
Gwen's stomach dropped. "Are you serious right now?" she asked incredulously.
Jess's voice was firm. "I told you—you let him get away. I can't help you."
Gwen's eyes narrowed with contempt. "I'm not coming," she declared, refusing to be the one to capture her friend.
Miguel's eyes gleamed with grim resolve. "You're right," he said, as if the decision had been made.
Before Gwen could react, the machine's mechanical arms sprang to life, wrapping around her.
"What the hell?!" she yelled, thrashing against the unyielding grip.
The arms dragged her toward the Go-Home Machine. She pounded against the holographic barrier that encased her, desperate to break free.
"Go home, Gwen," Miguel ordered, his voice devoid of sympathy.
Trapped, Gwen's eyes locked onto Miguel's. Her voice was steady, defiant. "We're supposed to be the good guys," she said, her words hanging in the air.
And then she was gone.
Silence settled over the room once more. Miguel stood there, brooding, his expression unreadable. After a long pause, he spoke as if trying to convince himself. "We are," he said quietly.
Then, louder, for everyone else to hear: "We are."
***
Miles crashed onto the wet rooftop, sliding until his back hit hard against metal. Rain soaked through his suit, but he couldn't stop now. Gasping for air, he pulled off his mask. There was only one thing on his mind: he had to reach her.
Ignoring the pain in his body, Miles pushed forward, leaping from one rooftop to the next. Tumbling and swinging, he headed home—the one place that still felt safe.
Meanwhile, in Earth-65, Gwen flew out of a portal and slammed into a shipping container. She groaned, trying to stand as pain shot through her body. Her suit clung to her from the damp air around the dockyard.
She frantically pressed buttons on her watch, but it was useless. Every time, it just blinked the same cold message: "Access Denied."
She was stuck, back in the very place she'd been running from.
Then it hit her, harder than the landing: Y/n was going to die because of a canon event.
And she was expected to let it happen.
Do absolutely nothing.
One of her only real friends was going to die, and Gwen couldn't interfere.
Her chest tightened as anger bubbled up inside her, hot and overwhelming. With a scream, she grabbed the giant container and hurled it to the ground with a loud crash.
The sound echoed through the empty yard, but it did nothing to calm her storm of thoughts.
She stood there, breathing hard, lost and unsure. But one thing was clear: she couldn't just let it happen.
Peter stood quietly in Mayday's room, gently laying his daughter down in her crib. His shoulders were heavy, his thoughts even more so. MJ approached him from behind, wrapping her arms around him.
"Hey hon, how was work?" she asked softly.
Peter hesitated. "Uh... I don't know." He hoped she wouldn't press.
But MJ had always seen right through him. "Peter, did you bring our baby to another fight?"
"Did I—? No!" he blurted. "Cause you asked me not to. So I wouldn't."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Mm-hmm."
Deciding to let him off the hook, she smiled faintly and leaned against him. Peter relaxed, dropping the act. His eyes stayed fixed on Mayday, her tiny chest rising and falling peacefully as she slept.
But there was sadness behind his gaze. His daughter reminded him too much of Y/n. And now it dawned on him that Y/n Parker, someone important to him, was going to die. The weight of it made his heart ache.
"Do you think I'll be any good at this?" he asked quietly, unsure.
MJ blinked at him. "You're asking that now?"
Silence settled between them. She sighed, her tone softening. "There's no playbook for raising someone like her. Or for being someone like you. You just gotta make the right adjustments at halftime."
When Peter didn't respond, lost in thought, she added with a playful smile, "That's a sports metaphor, by the way."
"I understand," Peter muttered, slightly annoyed.
MJ grinned mischievously. "Oh, sorry. You were just such a nerd in high school, I figured—"
"But I have watched sports!" he insisted defensively.
MJ laughed, finding his flustered reaction adorable. Her laughter was contagious, and Peter couldn't help but smile too, despite the weight in his chest.
"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head at her teasing.
But in that small moment, things felt a little lighter — even if only for a second.
***
Gwen snuck into her room via the fire escape. She wasn't a kid anymore, but this place reminded her that she used to be. She opened her bass drum kit where she knew she would find her spare webshooters, and the picture she kept, but then she found that it was gone.
Gwen peeked out her door and found George asleep on the couch.
There was a lot she'd rather not have to say, that she'd rather not have to hear. So she grabbed the picture of her and Miles and Y/n on the coffee table in front of George, and went back to her room's window.
She was halfway out the window when she sensed her dad standing up behind her, holding something.
She whipped around and webbed his weapon to the wall. Only, it wasn't a weapon. It was... a stuffed penguin. The one she kept her police scanner in.
George stared at the stuffed animal webbed to the wall. "Wanna go easy on the penguin?"
She wasn't laughing, turning to leave.
He sputtered his words quick enough for Gwen to pause.
"Are you even gonna look at me?" he asked.
She slowly turned her head, staring at him with the eyes of her mask. Petulant. Silly almost.
"What? What is that?"
"I'm looking at you," she deadpanned. "Like you asked."
George sighed. Gwen took off her mask.
"You look skinny."
"Where have you been?"
"Just been out murdering all my friends."
George failed to notice the wince when she said that. That statement was entirely not fake...
Now I realize that she didn't even matter to you.
"Oh, that's funny," he deflated. "Yeah, okay."
Now he turned and left. Gwen followed as she's now the one trying to keep him from walking out the door. "Where are you going?" Who's the kid here?
"I don't know!"
Maybe they both were.
She leaned against the doorframe, forming her words. "You're a good cop, Dad. You put that badge on because you know if you don't, someone who shouldn't will. But you have to understand, this mask is my badge. And I'm trying to be good too. I was trying to shard to wear this thing the way you would want and... I didn't."
He stopped in the doorway, gears on his mind turning.
She dropped her mask.
"I didn't!" she continued. "I can do all these things but I can't help the people I love the most. And they can only know half of who I am. So I'm completely on my own! I don't even know what the right thing is anymore. I don't know what I'm supposed to do! But I know... I can't lose one more friend."
I can't lose Y/n.
From the doorway, George spoke. "Gwen, I always taught you to do it by the book—"
"Yeah, and how did that work out?"
"I took an oath–!"
"Then arrest me, Dad!" Gwen spread her arms in defeat, her vulnerability showing. "Get it over with."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I quit."
"When?"
"About halfway through your big speech," George admitted.
She looked up. "Wait a minute, you're — not gonna be captain? That means..."
"My job, being captain, this whole thing doesn't matter anymore. You're the best thing I've ever done."
Gwen thwipped him towards her for a big hug. He embraced all of her as she dug her face into this big lovable galoot.
She joked through tears. "It was a good speech, huh?"
"No wonder you got an A in English."
"I got a B+," she corrected him. "Missed a few classes..."
George walked over to the bookshelf. "I don't know exactly what you're about to do... but I think this is supposed to help." He held up a package, wrapped in paper covered with mismatched prints—clearly from someone with a flair for the chaotic. "The guy who left it was a real piece of work."
Gwen took the package and tore it open. Inside was a punky, handmade watch and a note that read: "In case it don't work out — Hobie."
She turned it over in her hands, messing with the settings until whoosh—a portal burst to life in the room, flooding the walls with wild color and light. George stepped back, stunned, struggling to take it all in.
Gwen pulled her mask down, meeting his eyes one last time. "I'll be right back. Promise."
Then, with a loud womp, she vanished into the portal.
The room fell silent. George stood alone, staring at the space where she'd been.
"...Parenting's a big-ass mystery."
***
Miles was coming undone, barely holding himself together. Every rooftop he scrambled across felt like it could be his last. His webs were thinning, his grip slipping—not just physically, but mentally too. He tried to keep to the shadows, darker than usual tonight, hoping they could hide him from everything... from everyone.
His costume was torn. His thoughts even worse.
As he swung, he could barely stay ahead of the monumental voices in his head...
"YOU'RE A MISTAKE! If you hadn't been bitten, Y/n's father would still be alive." Miguel.
"I'm gonna take everything from you like you took everything from me." Spot .
"I didn't know... how to tell you." Gwen.
"You're not supposed to be Spider-Man!" Miguel.
"You have to think about saving one person, Miles." Peter.
"You will always be my Spider-Man." Her voice. The only one he wanted to hold onto.
His tears flowed out behind him as he ran. He couldn't breathe— or was it that he stopped breathing altogether? He bursted out into the open, pulling himself up and swinging across buildings. He put aside these pernicious thoughts and focused on the one voice that mattered right now.
Until one voice rose above the rest:
"You're on your way. Just keep going."
Uncle Aaron.
He pressed forward through the rain; defiant, confident, just as—
BAM!
He was hit by a truck.
***
It was a rainy night.
Y/n found herself walking on the wet pavement, holding an umbrella above her head. She was on her way to the Morales' household, remembering Jeff's invite back at the rooftop party.
While Miles and Rio were talking at the water tower, Y/n and Jeff were cleaning up, the two bonding over jokes and witty bantering. The talk was nice, and before she could leave, Jeff had the last word.
"Before you go, I'm inviting you to a family dinner tomorrow night."
She nodded, smiling politely at the Morales patriarch. "Okay, tio. I'll be there."
"Good, good," he said, nodding. He placed his hands on his hips. "We need to talk about ... important things."
She arrived at the front doorstep, hand on the knob, but not before a chill ran down her spine. Spidey sense. She wasn't sure if it was the chill from the rain, but she felt it all across her veins. There's danger.
Now, standing at their front door, Y/n reached for the knob—only to pause when a shiver crawled down her spine. Her Spidey sense lit up. A wave of tension buzzed through her veins. Was it just the cold rain... or something worse?
She opened the door.
Inside, it was still. Too still. Only the sound of rain echoed from behind her.
She stepped inside and quickly made her way up the stairs, taking them two at a time without missing a beat. At the top, she knocked on the Morales' apartment door. It opened with a warm smile from Rio, who immediately pulled her into a hug.
"Hey, you made it!" Rio said, cheerful.
"Of course, tía," Y/n replied, returning the hug.
"Jeff isn't here yet, so go ahead and make yourself at home. I just need to finish up the piononos," Rio added before heading back to the kitchen, apron already dusted with flour.
After diacarding her jacket, Y/n settled onto the couch, sinking into the soft cushions. Her fingers traced the fabric as her eyes drifted lazily around the room, taking in the cozy setting.
While basking in the silence, Rio spoke, whether it be to the girl or to herself. "Miles should be home right now."
***
Meanwhile, Miles stumbled through his bedroom window, completely winded. His breathing was uneven, his body aching, but he made it.
Outside his door, he could hear faint sounds—voices, the clinking of dishes—but none of that mattered now. He tugged off his mask, sweat-drenched and overwhelmed, and let out a breath.
But there was no time to rest. Miles couldn't just sit there. He had to get to her—now. Why didn't he head to her place first? Of course she wouldn't be waiting here in his room all day.
Pushing himself off the floor with a groan, Miles winced at the pain in his arms and ribs. His breathing was shaky as he searched for his phone, hands fumbling over piles of clothes and books. Finally, he found it. His thumb hovered over the keypad for a split second before he pressed and held the number 2—her speed dial. His emergency contact.
The room was still. Only the soft rise and fall of his breath, and the quiet ringing of the call filled the air.
Ringing....
Ringing...
***
Ring ring!
Ring ring!
She answered, bringing the phone to her ear.
"Hello?"
Rio moved when she heard Y/n voice speaking to her phone. She tried to read Y/n's expression, curious. Was it Miles? Maybe he was finally calling to let someone know where he was. She was already preparing a lecture about how late he stayed out—without even a text.
"Okay, okay. Bye. Take care. Yeah, I love you too." Y/n's voice brought her out of her thoughts, and Rio cleared her throat to fill in the brief silence after that.
"Was that Miles?" she asked with a grin. Was that how they conversed? That's adorable.
Y/n let out a sheepish chuckle, trying to be polite. "Oh. Uh...that was my mom. She just wanted to let me know that she's gonna be out on a business trip for the next couple of days, so—"
***
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
"Your number cannot be completed as dialed as it does not exist. Please check the number and dial again. Your number cannot be completed as dialed as it does not exist. Please check the number and dial—"
His blood ran cold.
It doesn't exist?
How could it not exist? It was his emergency contact—her number.
He gritted his teeth, shaking the thought out of his head. He had to move, had to find her—
A rustling noise cut through the panic.
Someone was outside his door. "Miles?"
The boy thwipped a jacket over and zipped it over his tattered suit right He whipped around, thwipping a jacket off the chair and zipping it up over his tattered suit just in time for Rio to step in with a basketful of laundry. She looked... harried. More brusque than usual.
"Is now a bad time?" she asked, eyeing him.
"Mom, are you okay?"
"What did you do to your hair—?"
"Just—tell me you're okay." Please. Tell me I didn't fail. Tell me she's still alive.
Rio blinked at him, surprised by the urgency in his voice. "I'm okay," she said softly.
That was enough. For now.
Miles dropped his shoulders and stepped forward, wrapping her in a tight hug. She froze for a second, then hugged him back, still confused.
"You were right," he mumbled. "You were right about everything."
"Of course I'm right," she jabbed at him playfully. "I'm always right— what am I right about?"
Miles combed through his hair, his mind still reeling. "I saw all these amazing places, and met all these amazing people, but—"
"¿Què te pasa, mijo?"
"But they didn't want me. But I kept thinking about what you said. I let 'em have it, mom. I beat 'em all. I know how strong I am now. I'm strong because of you. And Dad. And Y/n."
Rio's smile faltered slightly.
"Mom, there's something coming for us. Something terrible." Miles continued, frantically looking at her eyes. Is the room just dark or did her eyes have green specks dancing around?
Rio looked concerned now, her eyebrows meeting in the middle. "Miles, you're talking crazy. What's going on?"
"His name is Spot. He's my nemesis. And I'm gonna stop him."
The hell is this kid talking about?
"I know you know I've been lying to you. It's because I thought if you knew, you wouldn't love me the same. Then I went out there... and now, I'm not afraid of anything."
Neither was Rio. "What do you want to tell me?" she asked, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"You gotta promise nothing's gonna change."
"Papa, I will always love you," she assures. "I don't care what you say. ¿Me entiendes?"
Miles took a deep breath, avoiding her gaze. Until finally–
"Mom...? I'm Spider-Man."
He unzipped the jacket to reveal his spider-suit underneath. Here it goes. What would her reaction be? He had waited so long for this secret to finally be spoken aloud. It was his chance to become utterly vulnerable and downright honest with his mom.
But oddly, it felt anticlimactic when Rio looked like she didn't hear anything he had said. Was it out of shock? Was she speechless? Was she—
"Who's Spider-Man?"
Uh.
"The... superhero? He's partners with the other superhero, Spider-Lily. You know... they got spider powers, swing across buildings and all that...? Spider-Man is me."
Rio waved her hands around, mirth in her eyes. She wasn't taking this seriously. Not at all. "Is this like where you dress up like your favorite character? For like what's it called? Comics-con?"
"I don't know what that is—"
She began to laugh. "You really had me going there, Spider-Man!" the name rolled off her tongue in a joking manner. She shook her head playfully. "Imaginatè."
He followed Rio into the hallway. "Mom, please. Stop playing around. This is serious!"
***
Thud .
Y/n's eyes flicked toward the source—Miles' bedroom door. The sound of oil crackling in the kitchen faded into the background as she listened closely.
Whish — a gust of wind.
Huff — steady breathing.
Pat pat pat — soft footsteps.
Without saying a word, she glanced at Rio. The moment Y/n rose from the couch, Rio picked up on her unease, her brows lifting in silent question.
Y/n gave a sheepish nod toward Miles' door. Rio waved her off casually, a silent "Go on."
Giving a quick thumbs-up, she wrapped her fingers around the doorknob and opened the door as calmly as she could—despite every instinct warning her that something was off.
She shut the door behind her, muscles tensed, hand already on the light switch. Whoever this intruder was, she hoped they were ready fighting a jacket. With a flick, the room lit up, casting the figure in the shadows into full view.
Her breath caught. "Gwen," she whispered.
The girl in the spider suit froze, then quickly yanked off her mask, golden hair falling in a messy wave. But even with Gwen's face staring right at her—
Her senses still buzzed.
"Y/n! Oh thank God." Gwen exhaled shakily, rushing forward to hug her.
She blinked, surprised, but returned the hug. It was tighter than usual—desperate. She could feel the tension beneath Gwen's suit, the pressure of something held in too long.
"You really gotta stop showing up unannounced," Y/n murmured against her shoulder. "What's going on?"
Gwen stepped back, her fingers clenching around the mask in her hands.
"Y/n..." she began softly.
That was all it took. The feeling in her gut—the way her senses wouldn't settle—it all clicked.
"They're here," Y/n said slowly. "Aren't they?"
Gwen gave a single, grim nod.
A sound drew their attention. They turned to the window just in time to see a police cruiser pull up. Jeff stepped out into the street.
"Y/n, where's Miles?" Gwen asked, her eyes never leaving the window. The rain had stopped.
Y/n narrowed her gaze. "I should be asking you that. I know he followed you through the portal—he hasn't been home all day."
Gwen flinched, her silence telling. "He... got briefed. By Miguel."
Y/n's breath caught. Her eyes widened. "Oh god," she whispered. "He knows. He knows about his dad, doesn't he?"
Gwen looked torn, struggling for words. "Y/n, I need to explain—"
"Where is he?"
***
"Mom, I need to talk to you—"
BBBZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTT!!!!
Miles glitched.
"Oh no."
***
Both Gwen and Y/n's spider-senses flared.
But Y/n's felt different—sharper, almost panicked.
Miles wasn't in his room. That much was obvious now.
They looked at each other, realization dawning at the same time.
"He's in the wrong universe."
***
Miles' eyes widened. His mind raced, memories crashing into him all at once like a tidal wave.
"The spider that bit you—it wasn't from your dimension!" Miguel's voice raised.
"My spider made you Spider-Man, " Spot echoed. "Dimension 42."
The Go Home Machine locking onto his dimensional signature. " Dimensional I.D - Earth - 42. "
That machine... didn't send me home.
A doorknob rustled behind him. The door opened, and in walks—
Uncle Aaron, this version... that was alive as hell.
"Hey," Aaron, not his uncle, but Dimension-42 Aaron, held out a handshake. Everything was closing in on the boy as all of his memories were coming back to him. This was his dimension's The Prowler. He almost killed him when they didn't know each other's identities. But all of those seemed to melt when Aaron looked at him directly in the eye. "You okay?" he asked, his hand still in the air ready for a dap.
For a moment, words failed him—then he rushed forward and pulled him into a hug.
"I missed you so much," he mumbled against the older man's jacket.
"Woah!" Aaron continued. "Okay, alright then." Aaron awkwardly pulled him away, grabbing him by the shoulders. He chuckled meekly. "Woah, you took your braids out? On purpose?" He began to shuffle his way to the kitchen as Miles desperately tried to scramble for an answer. He needed to catch up with their banter if he needed to not sound suspicious.
But the question threw him off so bad, asked both by his family. He had braids?
"I'm... still getting used to it?" It was more of a question from the way Miles answered.
He watched as Aaron handed Rio an envelope of cash. Rio looked eternally grateful, but also determined to pay him back, but Aaron quickly shut down her offer, assuring her that they're family.
What the heck is going on? Where's dad?
***
"Hey, hun. Y/n is in Miles' room right now. How you doing?"
The two girls froze when they heard two voices from the other side of the door.
"Oh, she's here? Good. Hey, speaking of Miles... how'd it go with him?" The voice with a much lower register spoke.
"Well, you know how you grounded him? I ungrounded him."
"You– you what?"
"A little. I mean, how much trouble can he get into?"
"A lot of trouble!"
***
There were too many questions racing through Miles' mind.
They're struggling with money?
Uncle Aaron's close to my mom?
Do we even know the Parkers in this world?
And then it clicked.
That's why her number didn't exist.
He could almost hear Peter joking about how interdimensional texting should be a thing. Miles had even started mapping a route in his head, wondering if he could swing by her place—if she even lived in the same home here.
"Miles!" Rio's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "I'm working overnight tonight. Here's the grocery list."
Aaron took the paper from her, chuckling as he waved it. "I'll make sure he handles it."
But as he passed Miles, his voice dropped low—tone completely different.
"We gotta roll."
Miles followed him out of the apartment, up the stairwell. The further they went, the heavier the air felt. This wasn't home. Not even close.
The stairwell was dim and lifeless. Quiet in a way that made the silence feel threatening.
"Security changes over at six. That's the window, right?" Aaron asked over his shoulder, taking the stairs two at a time.
"Right," Miles replied, trying to match the pace. "Yeah, totally following everything you're saying."
Then came another glitch. A hard one. His knees nearly buckled.
Aaron stopped, giving him a sharp look.
"You good?"
Miles tried to breathe through the static buzzing in his skull. "I... got a cold," he muttered.
Aaron studied him for a second—too long—but finally gave a nod. "Come on, man."
They pushed through the emergency exit and emerged onto the rooftop. It was the same rooftop Miles remembered—where they'd once had a party—but now it looked deserted, like it hadn't seen life in years.
"You sure you remember the plan?" Aaron asked, giving him another chance.
"Yeah, totally," Miles replied, voice tight. "But maybe... we should go over it again? You know. Just to be sure."
He turned his eyes toward the skyline. What he saw knocked the wind out of him.
It wasn't his Brooklyn.
The city was darker. Cluttered. Some buildings were hollowed-out husks. Others were covered in metal patches and neon graffiti. Sirens echoed constantly. Spotlights from police choppers swept the sky. Distant fires burned in alleyways.
Miles' chest tightened.
"There's no Spider-Man here..." he murmured, more to himself than anyone.
And if there was no Spider-Man...
Then there was no Peter Parker.
No Spider-Lily.
No Y/n.
His stomach dropped as he looked up. And he instantly regretted it.
A mural.
In his world, it was a tribute he painted for Uncle Aaron.
But here... it wasn't Aaron's face staring back.
It was his father's.
Captain Jeff Morales
Husband. Hero. Father.
Rest in Power.
He couldn't breathe. Everything inside him screamed that this wasn't right.
Aaron noticed the way Miles froze, but didn't say a word. His phone buzzed, and he glanced at the message, eyes narrowing. He looked back at Miles—expression unreadable.
Miles didn't have time to question it.
His spider-sense exploded in his skull just a second too late—before a figure in a mask lunged from the shadows and slammed him into the rooftop.
***
Y/n felt her spider-sense flare again, like a nerve going through her entire body. "Oh, Miles." She exhaled shakily.
"I'm sorry, baby, but you did unilaterally unground him," Jeff continued, pacing around.
"Jeff. Tranquilo."
"I just worry about him getting mixed up with the wrong people," he admits aloud. "I have no problem with Y/n. We know she's a good kid. But that girl? Gwanda? What are they even thinking being with her?"
"I have... some ideas?"
"Baby, you're really not helping."
"She's probably the only friend they have," Rio suggested. "I just hope they're always there for him."
Gwen winced— she didn't really do a good job doing that.
"I mean, am I responsible for this? Maybe it's all my fault—"
"C'mon Papa, you're a great dad!" Rio cut him off, placing gentle hands on either side of his arms. "This is hard—"
"This is hard," Jeff resigned with a sigh. He rubbed his face tiredly. "We got a whole new kid who just wants to grow up so fast. And maybe... we gotta grow up too."
Y/n had had enough listening in. She needed to do something. "Gwen. Listen, we gotta—"
"Y/n? Mija, you in there?"
She stopped mid-speak, sharing a look with Gwen. She gestured for her to stay still as she internally cleared her throat. She had to stop her tears from forming. Opening the door, Y/n faced her boyfriend's parents. "I'm here. What happened?"
Rio and Jeff faced the girl. "Miles should be here right now. I'm getting worried," Rio began, fiddling with her fingers.
"Do you have any idea where he went?" The patriarch added— and despite he didn't look angry, the tone of his voice just unnerved Y/n. It was just in Jeff's nature to sound like a cop, she guessed.
"Uh... he should be here by now," Y/n punctuated with a cough. "He hasn't texted me back. Sorry."
"Was it something I said?" Rio mumbled to herself, to which Y/n naturally heard, but that just made her want to go die in a ditch due to guilt.
Before anyone else could speak, the door to Miles' bedroom opened once more and Gwen stepped out, wearing Y/n's jacket over her spider-suit. "It's not any of your faults," she began, looking forlorn. "It's mine."
Y/n was sweating bullets now. How is she going to defend this girl? She literally came out of nowhere!
"What the heck are you doing here?!" Jeff exclaimed in disbelief.
"Tio," Y/n sheepishly chuckled as she tried to diffuse the situation. "Gwanda just happened to visit. Sorry I didn't tell you, tia," she muttered, bowing her head in apology towards Rio.
Gwen nodded as she played along. "Yeah, Miles' window was open, so I... came in..." The rest of her sentence died in her throat when she realized that Y/n was glaring at her intensely.
The sudden urge to facepalm very loudly was strong.
"I want to talk to your parents!" Jeff demanded, crossing his arms.
Gwen meekly recovered, avoiding his gaze. "Right, my dad's kinda hard to get on a horn..."
"Oh, really?" The Morales patriarch challenged. "What does he do? Deal DRUGS?"
"He's a cop."
His resolve melted as quick as a snap.
"Statement withdrawn," he mumbled, but still wanting to be taken seriously, he added, "I'm gonna call the station."
"I don't think he's there," Gwen quickly said, before her voice trailed off. "Or anywhere around here..."
"Well, you're one of the last people I would've seen with my son, so where is he?" Jeff questioned.
Gwen spoke without thinking. "I don't know—"
"YOU DON'T KNOW?"
And from Rio's outburst, Y/n knew that she was absolutely gonna receive an earful. Why didn't the Spiders get an exclusive mind-reading device? Gwen would have received multiple alarms by now.
"What do you mean you don't know?!" Rio exclaimed, turning to the other girl. "Y/n, you were supposed to be responsible. You were supposed to look out for each other!"
She shriveled under their words. Yeah, I haven't been doing the best job with that.
"I'm sorry," Y/n let out with complete sincerity. "What she meant to say was... Miles didn't tell us where he was going, but we might know where to start. So, we're going now. Isn't that right?"
Gwen nodded, looking ashamed. "Right, right. Yeah. I'm sorry. We'll find him."
The two went to the door, but before they fully left, Y/n turned around once more. "He doesn't say it often, but he loves you both very much— more than you could imagine." Then, "I've seen it."
Jeff stopped them, moving forward. "Before you leave, I need you to take care— and give him this." Jeff brought the girl in for a hug. It was a hug so warm it nearly brought tears to her eyes. To know that he was going to die protecting someone pierced her through her heart. Don't worry, Tio. I'll save you.
And so she savored it, nuzzling her face closer. This was as close as she could get to a father's embrace ever since Peter died, and her heart was just so warm in appreciation for the thought of this man— who refused to cry during a sad film— be vulnerable and give her an embrace. It just feels – good.
Rio decided to give it a turn as well, embracing the girl. It was warm for Y/n as well, making it easy for her to just slot her arm around her shoulders. She was slightly taller than Rio, but nonetheless felt like a perfect fit.
If she does eventually find Miles, she'll make sure to receive this hug.
Rio eventually parted away and looked at Y/n in the eyes. It was comforting at first; the soft and motherly gaze. "And if you do find him..." then it got steel-cold. "Tell him five months." It has softened now. "And tell him we love him."
Y/n nodded, ignoring the whiplash she felt from Rio's ability to change moods in the snap of a finger. "We will."
The two stepped out of the apartment, and Y/n followed Gwen up the stairwell. "You're bad at lying," the young Parker spoke as they entered the rooftop.
"I was told," Gwen replied nonchalantly, tweaking the watch Hobie gave her. Y/n eyed the device, already knowing who built it based on the maximalist design. But if it works, it works. "You know where to go?" Gwen asked, turning to the girl.
They locked eyes. "Do you?" Y/n responded with a question. It was an easy answer, but somehow both of them knew they weren't ready to face that certain world yet.
Gwen nodded. "I do. But first," there was a hint of a grin on her face.
"You wanna make a band?"
***
His eyes opened.
A lucky cat.
A motorcycle.
Prowler tech.
Miles realized he was tied to a heavy bag—just like Peter once was.
"Uncle Aaron..." His voice was groggy, vision still blurry, but his senses were beginning to wake up. A dark silhouette sat at a desk in front of him. He glitched again, but this time, he was more aware.
Nearby, Aaron activated a winch. The bag jerked upward, lifting Miles off the ground. Instinctively, he tried a venom strike—but nothing. His hands were sealed inside thick rubber kitchen gloves.
Helpless, he watched Aaron close the distance between them.
"You don't understand," Miles gasped. "I'm not from here. The machine sent me here by mistake—please. Wait, wait, wait! Uncle Aaron!"
Aaron didn't respond. He walked past the bag, calm and detached, and put on a record. Jazz filled the air. For a moment, Miles felt the tiniest sense of relief.
Maybe he's not going to hurt me.
"Uncle Aaron, just hear me out—"
Nope. Aaron pushed the fader up. The music swelled, drowning out his voice.
Miles let out an exasperated sigh, but forced himself to speak anyway. Now or never.
"I was bit by a spider that gave me powers. It wasn't supposed to bite me. It was meant for someone else—from this universe. I don't belong here. I need to get back, or Y/n Parker—my girlfriend—is going to die."
That made Aaron pause. His expression shifted into a smirk. This kid really was different.
"I have an Uncle Aaron too—well, had one," Miles continued, breath hitching. "He was the Prowler. He looked out for me. He did a lot of bad things, but I know he wanted to be good. He just didn't believe he had a choice. But you do. You do have a choice. You can be a good guy."
Aaron let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "A good guy?"
Miles leaned his head against the punching bag, exhausted. "Please. Trust me. I know you don't want to be the Prowler—"
Aaron cut him off by slamming the punching bag with a gauntleted fist, sending Miles spinning. He wasn't hurt—but definitely rattled.
"I'm not," Aaron said quietly.
Then, he turned the bag toward the shadows—toward someone watching from the rafters.
A digital mask flickered to life.
The Prowler dropped to the floor.
He moved toward Miles slowly, each step deliberate, methodical. As he walked, Aaron tossed him the gauntlet. The figure caught it mid-stride and slid it on without breaking pace.
Now they were face to face. Mask to face.
Mirror to mirror.
"How'd you know that name?"
"What?"
"Her name."
Something cold crept through Miles' chest. "Who are you?" he whispered, eyebrows drawing tight.
The mask hissed open.
It was him.
But not just him. A version of himself hardened by the world. His hair was braided. His eyes were colder. His stance—deadly.
"I'm Miles Morales," he said, voice steady and dangerous. "But you can call me the Prowler."
Miles stared, trembling.
"If I don't get home, Y/n is going to die," he choked. "Don't you have a Y/n Parker in this world?"
Miles G tilted his head slightly, expression unreadable.
"She's dead."
Miles' heart stopped.
Then the other him smirked.
"Dead to me, at least."
That broke him. Horror bloomed across his face as he thought about the blood in his hands. This wasn't him. This wasn't him!
"Please," Miles begged again, voice raw. He had to stay focused. "You have to let me go."
Miles G stepped closer, his gaze razor-sharp. He powered up the glove and pressed it lightly against Miles' cheek.
"Why would I do that?"
***
Across dimensions, a storm was building.
Rio and Jeff stood at the window, watching dark clouds roll in.
Elsewhere, Spot re-emerged from the wreckage of the collider on Earth-1610. His body pulsed with unstable, chaotic power.
Up in the sky, Mary Jane gazed out the airplane window, unaware of the danger approaching. She missed her daughter.
Peter B Parker snored beneath a parenting book titled How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk.
He snorted awake to find Mayday bouncing and pointing outside at the two Spider-Girls standing in front of a punk-style portal, their silhouettes backlit by neon.
Peter brightened, his gaze shifting from Gwen to Y/n, happy to see a familiar face again. He smiled down at Mayday. "Don't tell Mom."
Mayday grinned with excitement, pulling down her little spider mask.
They gathered everyone they knew, jumping dimensions across dimensions to fetch every spider. Y/n was happy to see them again, and judging from the tight hug they gave her, she assumed that everyone missed her like crazy. She was surprised, as if they were greeting her like she's back from the dead.
Peter was so happy. So happy that he forcefully shoved Mayday into her arms and demanded her to hold his daughter again. Y/n didn't hesitate and spun the kid around, making Mayday giggle. Peter knew that she was good at holding babies.
Peni and Y/n greeted each other in Japanese, having exchanged a few lessons here and there in the time Y/n was in the Society. Noir gave her a noogie, Ham jumped around her excitedly and reached her hand for a high-five. Hobie harshly patted her back, Pavitr gave her the tightest hug, while Margo and Y/n shared a nod. Mutual respect.
I never found the right band to join. So I started my own.
The portal opened before them, with the newly formed team beginning to disperse, swinging through one by one.
But Y/n didn't move just yet.
Y/n didn't move, merely watching as her friends showed up and worked together for one objective. I'll save you, Miles.
Who, in the other dimension, tore a hole in the finger of that rubber glove.
A spark formed at the tips of his fingers. I'll save you, Y/n.
Just two little spiders, no longer lost.
Because now, they were fighting their way back to each other.
And the whole multiverse was about to feel it.
***
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