Chapter Text
"Dreams are windows into the lives of our Multiversal selves."
- Someone Miguel O'Hara sincerely disliked
Chapter-1: Am I Dreaming?
To Gwen, the Multiverse only meant one thing. One person she never thought she would see again.
All she had of him was a picture taken at the Hudson Valley Explorer with her old hand-me-down phone. Gwen had a tendency to lose and forget things. So she printed it out and kept it with her suit hidden inside her bass drum. It was the only hardcopy of his memories she had.
If asked, there was no explanation as to who the boy in the picture was. She had nobody to talk to about him. No one who'd understand. But she'd look at it every once in a while before diving out her window. To remind herself that he was out there, an impossible distance away, yet doing the same things as her. Going through the same things she was. Just by himself. Probably missing her.
And that was it. Those were the only times she saw him. She wouldn't look at the photograph very often. All those months ago, jumping into the portal back home was not easy. A part of her wanted to stay back. Because that was the last she would see of him.
She was happy to be home. She was happy there were people out there, even if literal worlds apart, who understood what she went through. For some reason, though, everything in her life felt incomplete since then.
They hadn't had much time together, but the short duration they did made her feel like she knew him better than she knew anyone else. She never realised how easily Miles had turned into her friend. The only friend she made after Peter died.
But he wasn't here, and there was no way for her to get there. She was lonely once again.
So she kept doing what she always did. Trying not to think too much about him. Gwen kept to herself, joined bands, quit bands, and the only time she ever felt alive was when she was flying through the air, swinging from the high-rising buildings of the city. Probably just the way he was doing.
Then it happened. Everything changed the day the Vulture showed up at the Guggenheim.
At first it was supposed to just be a "superhuman event". Routine work. The Vulture in question, however, wasn't even her Vulture. Not the one she was used to. This one was made out of parchment, spoke like a Renaissance man, breathed fire and whined about the cursed world she had allegedly brought him into.
Gwen had only begun to question the absurdity of it all when he started to glitch. Those familiar oh-so-welcoming pixelated distortions in space-time.
Her thoughts were already miles away.
Then a blast of hexagonal lights tore through the museum and the big blue guy made his entrance. The cherry on top of the cake. A great big angry-looking Spider-dude with red wings that disappeared into his back. If Gwen was right, those things protruding from his fingernails were definitely talons.
But the only thing she cared about was the big shiny watch on his wrist. Its dial was still glimmering with numbers, like he had used it just moments ago. If that thing was what she thought it was…
To Gwen, the Multiverse only meant one thing. One person. His face was the first thing that popped up in her head when she thought about it. And now she finally had the chance to see him again.
Of course Miguel wouldn't let her do that. When was it ever so easy? Despite all the necessary equipment she needed to cross the dimensional barrier, she was not allowed to go to him. In fact, they monitored each and every move she made.
One day she learned why. Doing that sucked out whatever she had left in her to keep going. She never wanted to be a part of it. But she had no choice.
Hurting him was the last thing she wanted. She could never… if she could help it.
The only thing she could count on was, if the worst came to it, she could break protocol and go see him any time she wanted. It was all possible. She was only held back by rules. Rules of the Multiverse. But Rules, nonetheless. Rules she could break. If she could just find an excuse.
So when some multi-dimensional villain called the "Spot" started hopping realities and caught Miguel and Jess's attention, Gwen did everything possible to convince Jess to let her be the one to go track him down. To Miles's universe.
"You're going to visit your electric friend, then?" Hobie asked. "The 1610 lad?"
"I… I can't," she replied. "I'm not allowed to."
Hobie rolled his eyes the way he usually did and walked away. "Don't always play by the books, Gwendie."
She promised Jess she wouldn't go see Miles. She promised herself too. She had a job to do: to "save the multiverse". For the "greater good". For him. For everybody. So she could not be selfish. If she had to choose between one person and the mission, she'd choose the mission. If she were to never see him again, for everyone's sake, she would never see him again.
But once, maybe just once, she'd steal a quick look at him from afar. See how he was doing. That would be enough.
She never wanted to hurt him.
But she did.
They found him on the ledge above the clock tower, atop the Williamsburgh Bank Building. He lay still in the bleeding purple dusk, clothes torn to rags and painted all over with blood. Hobie got to him first. He crouched, carefully putting aside his guitar, and put a hand on the side of Miles's neck. His face was grim.
Gwen's blood ran cold. Hobie's face was never grim.
"No, no, no, no."
Was this real?
For a second she was back in Mumbattan, running into the falling debris, when Miles got buried under the rubbles. When she feared the worst had happened to him. Her heart raced just like that now as she dashed towards him. She reached and reached for him, her steps beginning to waver, but she never seemed to get close enough.
He was unscathed the last time. He would be the same now. He would because he'd promised. Her vision blurry with tears she was holding back, she almost slipped in the trail of blood leading to where he lay, to where the two of them had sat watching the sunset just days ago.
"Miles!"
She skidded to a stop next to Hobie and got down to her knees. Slipped her hands underneath Miles's shoulders and gently lifted him up.
"Miles, wake up!" Please wake up.
It was at times like this she loathed herself, and what her responsibilities had forced her to do. She remembered seeing the pain in his eyes. The pain her betrayal had caused him.
With a faint realisation dawning on her that he most likely wasn't going to move, she pressed his cold body to hers and buried her face in his shoulder.
She'd wondered if he would ever look at her the same way again. With the same warmth he held for her in those brown eyes. Forget calling her name or pulling her into a hug. She lost those luxuries long ago.
Now she just wished he would breathe again.
And to tell him visiting him was a mistake. Words she had never meant. She'd gone there only for him. She never cared much about the mission. The mission was secondary.
She was shaking, still holding his lifeless body in her embrace.
Had she just lost another friend?
"Are you and Hobie friends?"
Her heart skipped a beat as she pulled away to look at him. Miles's eyes fluttered open. She heard a chuckle and turned to find Hobie grinning, the glint of mischief back in his eyes.
Gwen brushed the tears from her face with the back of her sooty sleeves. She couldn't care less if she smeared it all over her instead. "Hobie you jerk! Do you know how scared I just got?" She would have sprang up to present him with a playful punch, but she had something else she needed to do first. She turned back to Miles, warmth coursing through her veins.
"Miles," she said, and wrapped her arms tight around him. She didn't care if the others were looking. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.
"Yeah," he said, breaking into a fit of dry coughs. "Yeah. I'm okay. I'm okay. Thanks Gwen." His voice was weak. He was in a lot of pain.
She let go and helped him sit up.
"What happened?" she asked.
Miles sighed. "Long story. I'll tell you later." He turned to her with an uncharacteristically earnest look on his face. Gwen's heart began to palpitate. "Tell me," he said. "Are you and Hobie friends?"
"Wha-" Gwen was so relieved she wanted to laugh. "Why?"
"You told me he let you crash at his place."
"Miles, the thing between Hobie and me is-"
"You wore his… sweaters?"
"Miles…"
"You left your toothbrush at his place? You're wearing his shoes?"
Gwen smiled. Yeah, she could be a forgetful person sometimes. A lot of times, in fact. She decided, however, to keep him in the dark just a little longer. He'd find out soon enough. She'd make sure of that.
"I never wanted to hurt you," she told him instead. "Or lie to you. You don't know how hard it was for me."
Miles nodded. "I know. I know. You thought you were doing what's best for me. But I'm not a kid anymore Gwen. You've got to stop treating me like a kid."
"I'm sorry," she said. She didn't know what else to say. Didn't know what she needed to do for him to forgive her. If he would ever forgive her.
"I'm supposed to be able to trust you," he said in a steady tone.
This was it. The reality she had to brace herself for. "Can you, still?"
A silence unlike anything seemed to descend on her. She must have waited hours for him to speak.
"I can, still," he said. "I want to, still."
She looked up at him. Those same warm eyes were trained on her. She pulled him close and Lay her head on his shoulder. His heart was beating steadily. She wouldn't let go. she knew, if she let loose, Miles would be gone and she wasn't going to let him. Even though the world had begun to spin dangerously. Even though, in the back of her mind, she had already caught wind of those pixelated distortions of spacetime swallowing the world.
It's not a dream, she thought, it couldn't be.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Peter's. She could smell baby powder. "You know," he said, "dreams are windows into the lives of our Multiversal selves."
"Gwen." It was Miles, his ragged breath brushing the side of her face.
Something pressed against her side. Something sharp. Something metallic. Something which Miles passed into her palm. Forcing her fingers to wrap around it, she brought it to her face. She went cold.
She was staring at the bloody badge of a police captain.
"I couldn't save him, Gwen," Miles said, pulling away from her.
He walked to the ledge and looked down. Gwen followed. Far below, although not entirely visible, she could make out the unmistakable shape of a man sprawled on the ground. A man in uniform.
"He's dead," Miles said coldly. "He was sworn in today when the buildings began to fall. And you weren't there."
In the distance a bright streak of lightning touched down and the world began to burn. Unravel. The skies cracked into spirals, engulfing all that existed beneath it.
A plot hole.
"My father died, Gwen," she heard Miles's distant voice. "You said if my dad died the canon would be complete. Then why is my universe still collapsing?"
When Gwen's eyes snapped her out of her dream, she still lay facing the star-less sky. Frogs croaked and crickets chirped. It was going to rain. She could smell it in the air. She sat up and realized where she was. She snapped her head to her side and absorbed the bitter truth. She still hadn't found him.
Reality was often disappointing.
"So you're the Spider-Man that fights the Nazis, correct?" Hobie asked the black and white-themed Spider-Man from 1933, extending his hand. "Heard a lot about you. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, mate."
"1934," the Spider-Man corrected and shook his hand. "And I don't fight Nazis. I obliterate them."
"Blimey," Hobie waved a hand. "That's right diabolical. Have to give it to you. Your attire matches your overall sinister tone."
"Did you just change colors from orange to purple now?"
"Nah he just changed from red to green," Spider-Ham chimed in. "Somebody get this baby off me!"
Noir shrugged, reaching into the inner pockets of his trench coat and produced a Rubik's Cube, which he flashed at Hobie. "I was having trouble remembering the seven shades – VIGBYOR. Could you help me?"
"Guys have you seen Gwen?" Peter B. Parker asked.
"Yes, she is inside the main office," Pavitr said. "With Margo and Peni."
"Thanks Pavitr," Peter said, heading for the stairs. He turned around. "Mayday! That's not a horn, that's his nose. Peter, do not give her one of your hammers!"
He shook his head, trying not to let thoughts of his baby daughter override his footing as he headed up. MJ was, for sure, was going to divorce him for real this time. If she didn't kill him first and have his corpse sitting in the hearing.
A slew of voices interrupted him as he reached the first floor landing.
"It's a simulation, Gwen," it was Margo's voice. "Simulations have errors."
"Yeah, but the more iterations the more accurate we are, aren't we?"
"All I'm saying is you can't just be a hundred percent certain."
"What's going on?" Peter asked as he pushed open the door to a room dimly lit in blue. All heads turned to look at him.
"Gwen had this idea," Margo started. "She said she had this dream where Miles's father died. And his universe still unravelled. So she asked me to perform a simulation which branches out from the point where she went to see Miles. See what happens."
"So you wanna know what happens if Miles's dad dies for real," Peter concluded. "See if his universe still unravels. If breaking or not breaking the cannon makes any difference."
"What if," Gwen said, "I never went to see Miles, and caught the Spot in the first place? None of this would have happened, right? Spot wouldn't be going on a rampage across the Multiverse, and lots of universes would be still intact."
"Oh," Peter said, hands on his hips. "So we're going back there then, aren't we, Gwen? I can't believe it, after all I told you. It's not your fault, so stop blaming yourself."
He walked across the room and dragged out an old wooden chair with a missing leg from under a dusty table. Sitting down backwards, he leant his head against its rickety support. "Look at it from this angle. Inspector Singh was supposed to die, right?"
"According to Miguel," Gwen said.
"According to Miguel, yeah," Peter said. "But just think. Let's backtrack slightly here. So forget about Miles saving him. Let's focus on the part where he dies. He dies because of the Spot, right? Because of all that mess-up in Alchemax?"
"Yes."
"And why does that mess-up happen in Alchemax? Because you couldn't catch the Spot."
"Yeah. You're correct."
Peter smiled. "I'm always correct. And why couldn't you catch the Spot? Because you went and saw Miles, didn't you?"
Gwen sighed. "Yes, Peter. Because I went to see Miles."
"Just look at the picture now," Peter said, spreading his arms wide. "You went to see Miles. You failed to catch the Spot. Hence he escaped to Mumbattan. He did some goofy goobery stuff with the Collider Sequence. Created an explosion. And the damage would have killed Inspector Singh. Which was a 'cannon' event. See what I did here?" He got off his chair and began pacing the room. "Had you not gone to see Miles, and instead caught the Spot, he would have never escaped to Pavitr's universe. Inspector Singh would have never died. Thus, Miguel's ASM-90 would have never occurred. In other words, you going to see Miles was necessary for ASM-90 to happen. In a similar manner, who are we to say Miles saving Inspector Singh wasn't meant to happen?"
"So," Gwen said after a brief cold pause in the dark room lit by the pale blue light. "Had I listened to Miguel, ASM-90 would've never occurred?"
"Yes!" Peter jumped. "Exactly. In a nutshell, had you listened to that Nutshell, you would have ended up not listening to that Nutshell. Makes sense?"
"Not really," Margo said. "But I get what you're saying. So I go ahead with the simulation, then?"
"Not a second to be wasted," Peter said. "What are the boundary conditions?"
"Gwen opens up the portal to Dr. Jonathan Ohnn's apartment, and not to Miles's," Peni said as she began typing into the virtual keyboard on her mecha.
"Good," Peter said. "And Margo, better keep the Cognitive Mesh size as small as possible. We'd like to catch all the uncertainties, right?"
Margo shrugged. "It'll take up a lot of time and memory. I can't use the cloud, or Miguel's gonna track us."
Peter paced around the room, deep in thought. It had been a while since he'd last ran a simulation. That was for the PhD he never completed. His mentor would be laughing in disbelief if he saw him now. In fact, to some extent, so was he. He would be lying if he said he wasn't on the verge of doing so.
He should be rolling around the floor, pinching himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
Because it had happened again.
Once again, he found himself in the same situation as when he'd hopped across universes and met that scrawny little kid from Brooklyn.
Miles was so young back then. Younger even, then when he'd started this gig. That same kid had a different look in his eyes atop Alchemax tower. More steely, more weary, but also more noble, somehow. It was scary how much of himself he could see in him at times.
Ben's words still ring in his ears like it was yesterday.
The kid was his responsibility. He'd pushed him away just as much as Gwen had. It frightened him to think he might be alone somewhere looking for help right now and they weren't there to help him. It frightened him more to imagine what it would do to Gwen if the worst came to pass.
He was loathed to even entertain the possibility.
"Keep the mesh unstructured, but more refined around the divergence," he said.
"That'll do," Margo confirmed.
"Thanks, Peter," Gwen said. "I feel a lot better now."
"I'm proud of you," he told her, patting her on the shoulder. "You remind me of someone just like you, from a long time ago. If you dream of anything weird, just tell me. They are windows into the lives of our Multiversal selves."
He was about to leave the room. As he neared the door, Gwen grabbed his arm. "What did you just say?"
Peter's hand wrapped around the door handle. "I meant what you dream is happening in some other universe for real. Right? Isn't that the idea of the Multiverse? A 'collection of infinite possibilities'." He turned around to find her stunned. "Did I say something wrong?"
"Who told you that?" she asked.
Even in the dark room illuminated only by the glare from the computers in the corner, he could see her face turn pale.
"Strange," he said. "I can't remember."
Gwen's eyes went wide. "Shoot."