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“So let me get this straight,”
You took a deep breath. Right, here we go again.
“You completely wrecked a national museum, allowing countless artifacts to get destroyed or stolen or lost in other dimensions, let the Spot escape, and lost the lead on him?”
Your head spun as you hung a few feet off the ground, your body suspended in a web of your own making and hanging from the tallest point of the Brooklyn Bridge. Blood had rushed to your skull long ago, blurring your vision from the recent fight and making it hard to see the man in front of you. You didn’t really need to see him, though. You could practically picture the unamused frown on Miguel’s face, his arms crossed over his chest, staring you down with a glare.
All you could do was wheeze out a nervous chuckle and wiggle a tad in your restraints. “Rookie mistake?”
That was, of course, a joke. One that Miguel never appreciated, to your dismay. “ You’re one of my best men!” The punchline here - which you personally thought was funny - was that the two of you had known each other for years. You’ve been a part of the spider society almost since the very beginning. The two of you go way back. You’ve seen him go through a lot.
Dealing with him when he got mad was never fun, though.
You groaned as your body collapsed onto the pavement, and you laid like that for a while until finally willing yourself up. Well, it was more like making yourself scramble up to your feet instead of falling asleep on the ground because Miguel’s voice brought you back to the situation at hand. Which was that you were on the ground, in the middle of the aftermath of a rather destructive fight. “What the hell happened?”
You rubbed your head. “What the hell do you think happened?” Cars laid upturned over the bridge, trailing all the way back to the museum that lay in ruin with glass sprawling across the ground and fire hydrants gushing out water. Traffic bottlenecked both ways as police arrived, assessing the situation and starting the clean up process. You gestures to the scene, irritated. “I fought him like you asked me to. He won. He left. That’s it! Maybe if you gave me - Oh, I dunno - backup , I could have -“
“We’ve been busy .” And that was it. Miguel turned around and started walking, giving you a side glance as you jogged to catch up to him. The two of you sped walked through the chaos and across the bridge. You knew that look too well. It was a silent challenge. A threat. Keep talking about this and you’d find out what happens.
Well you did despite it, because now you were pissed. “Miguel O’hara, don’t give me that shit. You’ve been busy with what? Giving a 15 year old kid nightmares? Being his boogieman? You’re focusing on the Wrong. Guy. ” You jutted a finger out to him, and you were met with a scowl. “You’ve got the whole universe looking for Miles. Do you understand? The whole universe! And you’ve got one person looking for this freakazoid. Want to know who that one person is?” Before he could open his mouth to tell you to shut up, because you could tell he was fuming with every word you said, you stepped in front of him and blocked his path, pointing to yourself. “ Me. ”
Suddenly, you were grabbed by the shoulder and shoved to the side, but you kept your ground as Miguel passed you. Okay, you were expecting that. He kept walking, speaking to you over his shoulder. “We can focus on the Spot after we deal with Morales. He’s not our top priority right now. You should know that.”
“Well he fucking should be!” You let out an exasperated sigh, once again catching up to him and falling into step at his side. Your hand gestures were becoming more and more exaggerated, becoming full on body gestures as you spoke. “Miguel, listen to me! I -“
“Enough!” Miguel turned to you, pace suddenly coming to a halt as he grabbed you by the arm and squeezed. The eyes of your mask widened, staring into his own. His teeth grit against each other. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. Instead, he scanned your face and sighed, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. There was a beat of silence. “Do it right next time.”
The hand squeezing your arm tightened and you winced, faintly feeling the prick of claws digging into your suit. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t think he was expecting you to say anything, anyway. He left you then, alone at the end of the bridge. The feeling of his claws disappeared as he did the same through a portal, and you were left staring at where he last was.
Dealing with him when he got mad was never fun, but this wasn’t the mad you were used to. This was different. This wasn't anger directed to just you.
Over the course of the next few days, you kept close tabs on Spot’s location, tracking his every move and following him from one world to the next. He even started to know you by name. He’d say hi when he saw you. One time he offered to grab some lunch together before the fight - it was kind of endearing if your career wasn’t on the line.
His one sided conversations with you eventually became actual conversations. This time, as you chased him through another thick urban jungle, he finally popped the question.
“So why’re you the only one chasing after me anyway? I thought I’d get a little more attention from the whole ‘blowing up a reactor’ thing. Not that you’re not great too or anything. Just saying.”
You dodged an AC unit hurdling your way, swinging through the air until your leg connected with his arm. It went right through him, though, and your foot appeared through a hole a little ways away. You quickly retracted your leg and fell back to swinging behind him. “Want me to be honest?”
“Of course!”
You hesitated. You were worried about how he’d react. Your voice came out smaller than you wanted it to be. “Everyone’s… busy trying to find Miles.”
Just as you suspected, the fight immediately stopped. Spot landed on a rooftop, turning around to face you as you swung to land on it as well. All you could do was stare at him and wait, as he stared back at you in what you could only imagine was shock and disbelief. “Are you KIDDING ME? ”
You shrugged. “Nope.”
Aaand here came the rant. “Hundreds! Hundreds of thousands of spider people throughout so many different universes! Hundreds of thousands of people who could be fighting me! You realize if at least maybe like… ten more people were here to help you, you’d be fine? But no. It’s always Miles this and Miles that. Miles Miles Miles. Everybody loves ‘em.”
You knew he wanted to say more, but you couldn’t keep listening to this without butting in. Someone was finally acknowledging what you’ve been trying to say this whole time. “Yes!” You jutted your hands out to him in emphasis. “Yes! Exactly! Finally! I’m wasting my damn time here! I don’t get it - what’s so special about that kid? You’re obviously a huge threat, we should be focusing on you! I just - I don’t get it.” Quietly, under your breath, you muttered to yourself. “What is going through Miguel’s head…”
“At least you recognize the effort I’ve put into this.” He sighed, slapping his hand against the side of his thigh lightly. He drummed his fingers against it, seemingly contemplating something. After a moment, he spoke up. “…I’ll show them.”
Oh no.
“Hey,” you started, putting your hands up in an ‘easy there’ gesture. “Hold on. I’m here, right?” At his distant glance into the spot beside your head, you snapped your fingers, making him focus on you. “… You still owe me that bagel at the cafe!”
“I thought you said you didn’t want the bagel.” He deadpanned. “And I’m not hungry right now. Or ever. I’m never hungry.”
“Oh.” You swallowed a lump in your throat that somehow made it feel dryer. Up until now, it was just a simple game of cat and mouse. You were really wishing you had backup. “Well uh, that sucks. Want to talk about it?” Anything. Just think of anything to keep this guy from blowing up.
“Mmmmmnah. I’m busy thinking of vengeance. That’s been basically my whole life ever since I became this… thing . I think I should start putting that plan into action.”
As his next few words came, the whole world felt like it was crashing down and sinking into you. You felt a heavy, disgusting dread pile up inside your stomach. His voice was darker, sinister. Tired. Tired of being underestimated, undermined, unappreciated, unimportant. Silently, you could relate. “Thanks. For making me realize that. See ya around.”
And then, he was gone.
… Shit .
Dealing with Miguel O’Hara when he got mad was never fun. You had a feeling he’s going to be more than mad when he finds out about this.