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Returning from a mission that goes south is always a mood killer. Everyone’s morale is down, no one talks as they all share the same disappointment. This was one of those times. Miles returned back from a mission, with him was Gwen, Peter B, and Miguel.
Exiting the portal, you could feel the anger and frustration radiate off of all of them. Gwen had an agitated and annoyed look on her features, trying to hide them under her hood. Peter tried to keep the positivity high, but his efforts were falling on deaf ears. He too was also effected by the failed mission, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and subconsciously selected his camera. Scrolling through all the pictures of MayDay, a soft smile moving onto his features.
Miles held his head down, as one of the youngest on the team, he always felt this pressure to prove himself to the society. So when he failed it felt like a major blow to his chest. The rest of the Spiders moved out the way, not wanting to get in the way of the moping.
The portal closed behind them. Gwen let out a frustrated sigh. Miles pulled off his mask, taking in a deep breath, that he never realised he needed. Who knew the mask could sometimes be so suffocating.
Something that didn’t sit right with Miles was how quiet Miguel was being. Usually he was very loud about his opinions on missions that failed. So his silence was odd. Why did Miles care? Their relationship was strained at that. Not really friends just colleagues. But Miles would be lying if he said he didn’t care a little about Miguel. It’s the job. Spider-man cares for everyone.
He didn’t know how the leader thought of him. They don’t talk badly about each other. Whenever they’re placed on a mission together, they’ll always give the other a hand without question. They’d give each other greetings, whenever walking past each other. But that was it.
Miles snuck a glance at the vampire like Spider-Man. Even though it was a glance, he could see something wasn’t right. He held back and then turned to look at Miguel,
“Hey man, you alright?” He asked, quietly as not to make it obvious. Miguel registered Miles question and let out a breathy sigh, giving the boy a nod.
“I’m fine Morales.” He replied, voice not as firm as usual, it was like he was drifting.
Miles looked over him once again, his arm was glued to his side. God he’d missed it before. He could see the strain in Miguel’s muscles to keep the pressure on his wound. It was odd, it should be closed by now. He’s a Spider-Man his wounds should be closed.
“You should go-“
“I’m fine!” He replied his voice strangled. He had the same signature sort of glare to him. But his eyes held distress. Miguel wanted to keep a strong facade for the others, he could feel frustration from all of them. He wouldn’t lie, he too was frustrated.
Miguel took a step forward, what a mistake that was. He fell, Miles tried to catch him but he forgot the muscle Miguel had, as well as their difference in size. The Latino fell completely on him.
Miguel groaned as he heard the mixes of voices, he could hear Miles’ panicked voice, then heard Peter B laid back yet worried tone. He tried to form words but all he could do was try and breath.
Miles fell with Miguel, having the man’s full weight on him. Shit!
“Miguel?!” He shook the older man slightly but to no avail.
“Come on man, this isn’t funny.” He laughed slightly and tried to move himself.
Gwen and Peter rushed over, and together they pulled Miguel off of Miles. There was now a crowd surrounding them, each a spider person. They moved him to the infirmary. Miles watched as he finally saw the extent of Miguel’s wound.
There was wooden splinters all around his wound, embedded into his flesh. He could see the sort of burnt tint on the flakes of wood. Miguel had been burnt, as well as staked, not good for a healing wound. It gave the impression of maggots crawling in his wound, as it wouldn’t close because of the burnt skin. It made his stomach churn. He looked down at his suit seeing Miguel’s blood running down his side.
Peter B placed a gentle hand on his shoulder,
“He’ll be alright Miles.” He reassured him and smiled. Miguel was growing on the kid, heh, who knew.
“Why don’t you get yourself cleaned up.” He didn’t really ask, more directed Miles in the direction.
Miguel groaned, the lights too bright for his sensitive eyes. He placed his forearm on his forehead, blocking out the white light. He took in a deep breath and immediately gritted his teeth. He could feel the stretching of his skin around the wound. The exhale was shaky. He kept his forearm there for a while, until the door opened.
Miles entered, a little sheepish compared to his usual outgoing stature. Miguel looked over at him elevating his arm slightly.
“Morales?” He asked, voice croaky and hoarse. Miles gave a small smile before walking over, grabbing the plastic cup from the table beside Miguel. He poured a cup of water and offered it to him. Miguel began to sit up when a shooting pain in his side rendered him unable to.
“Argh.” He hissed as he laid himself back down.
Miles’ face turned to one of guilt. He grabbed the cup and then hesitated.
“Could… can I hold the back of your head?” He asked, knowing he’ll have to help Miguel drink.
Miguel hated being this useless, unable to drink himself? How pitiful.
Miles waited patiently, seeing the look of embarrassment and annoyance in his scarlet eyes. Miguel then gave a nod lifting his head slightly. Miles gently grasped the back of the Latinos head, softly as not to hurt him. He brought the cup to Miguel’s lips, and then positioned his head so he wouldn’t choke on the water.
The water felt like heaven, not too cold but not too warm. His throat no longer had the texture of sand paper, now it felt comfortable to swallow. He was forever thankful for Miles helping him. Miguel hummed when he’d finished, Miles pulled away the cup and placed it back on the table. He then laid Miguel’s head back down.
“What are you doing here, kid?” He asked Miles after a few moments of silence. The boy took a little while to answer. This made Miguel turn to look at the boy.
“I’m sorry. Miguel I’m so sorry.” Miles began as his words flooded out. Miguel watched him awestruck, why was he apologising? He didn’t do anything wrong? Did he?
“If I was better you wouldn’t be hurt, the mission wouldn’t have failed.”
Miguel watched the kid, shock covering his usually stoic expression. He just realised how small Miles was, yes Miguel was generally tall but sometimes he forgets Miles is only fifteen.
“Niño.” He started and looked up at Miles. He motioned for him to sit next to him, having noticed the distance Miles had placed between them. The boy sat down in the chair, his hands in his lap shaking ever so slightly.
“The mission failed, yes it’s disappointing but we all failed.” God this sort of thing wasn’t something Miguel was used to, in fact he can’t recall doing this to anyone before. Miles looked over at the man, he could tell he was out of his league but to see he was trying was comforting.
“You just got to get up and move on, and don’t fuck it up again.” He continued, voice returning to the same grumble everyone was used to.
Miles chuckled a little at that, he saw some tension leave Miguels chest as he did.
“Thanks man.” He replied, calming down and a soft smile placed on his lips. In reply Miles was given a nod, nothing more but silence, not awkward, but more of a comfort. He then stood up and walked to the door,
“Thanks.” Miles turned to look at Miguel who looked back at him.
“Thanks for the water.” The older elaborated, Miles gave him a grin
“No problem,”