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In the multiverse, there were infinite numbers of Earths where Spider-Man exists. And in the multiverse, there were also an infinite number of Earths where Spider-Man didn't exist.
In some universes, there was no radioactive spider or radioactive anything that could bring Spider-Man into existence.
Some already had other superheroes in their place.
Others didn't have other requirements for Spider-Man to exist.
For Earth-1218, it was the laws of nature and rules of reality that prevented the existence of Spider-Man.
Miguel had travelled to many different universes. He’s seen worlds where different people were Spider-Man or Spider-Woman. There were also other strange ones too, like a world where a pig who called himself Spider-Ham protected the city. He’s seen a medieval world where Spider-Man was a wizard with spider abilities, Spider-Wizard, and even one where Spider-Man was literally a bowl of ramen that fed the homeless. Yet, to think one of the earth that intrigued him the most was the mundane one without Spider-Man.
Despite that, he never once dared to step foot in it. Not because of the danger in this world but rather because of what it could do to him or what that world would do to itself.
Because of how plain and dull this earth was, one would not give it a second glance when visiting it. However, that might be their downfall, especially if they possessed any sort of power. Unlike most earths, this one exhibited a very powerful and strict laws of nature and reality. So strong in fact that if he ever tried to step foot into that world, his power would disappear, stripped away from him with no remorse whatsoever.
In one recorded incident, Miguel was able to obtain a test subject—a criminal on death row— from Earth-131222, with the approval of Peter Parker from said Earth. How he got the guy? Miguel didn’t know.
It was absurd, laughable even, that a creature made out of plastic that was so tiny, he could place it in the palm of his hand, was considered a serial killer in another universe, but he digressed.
Apparently, a living organism in the form of a Lego figure was too much of a concept for this universe to bear. So upon arriving at Earth-1218, not only did any type of power he had previously was wiped away, but so was the man’s consciousness.
He dropped to the floor with a soft clank. His curious eyes and worried lips froze and turned into dried paint as his face and body became a solid piece of plastic. He was found by a resident of that earth, a little boy with a love of collecting toys and currently resided in the boy’s home.
As for his Gizmo, it stopped working, turned into a mere prop for his plastic body.
Miguel was cautious of that earth after that.
There was also the danger around how he looked. Some universes looked different compared to others in terms of anatomy and details. Earth-1218 looked way more similar to that of Earth-199999 than any others. Well, if Earth-199999 was duller, more depressing and less advanced.
Because of that, considering how strict the laws were, could he disappear too since he didn't fit at all in that universe's general appearance?
He didn't want to know and, frankly, was too occupied with other missions to test out the theory. So sadly he had to write Earth-1218 off as a world where he would never get to travel to. Though, it shouldn’t be a bad thing. The strict laws were a blessing for that world if anything, because the chances of an anomaly happening in that world were very unlikely because of it.
Just because he couldn't go there, though, didn't mean he couldn't observe what that universe looked like.
When he found out he could still watch that world through his screen, he couldn’t throw that opportunity away.
So he did. Miguel wasn’t impressed. It was such a boring and dull-looking world filled with injustice, violence, and brutality. Crimes occurred left and right. Some were given justice, some were not. It was unlikely that they will get any either. Their technology was very limited. Problems and conflicts remained that people failed to tackle and solve. Though, the people seemed content with what they had. Some were blind to the grim reality, their vision blocked by cover-ups, distraction or just pure blissfulness while others were fully aware but had no power to stop any of it.
And then one day, he saw you through the screen.
He didn't care about you. Looks-wise, you were average at best. The way you dress to the way you walked down the streets made you blend in with the rest of the people.
Then, your hand reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone before swiping to unlock it.
Huh?
Why was there a picture of him on your phone?
Technically, this world did have a Spider-Man. In fact, there were a lot, more than he would’ve liked. But the reality was that they were not real. Miguel O-Hara was not real in that world. He and all the other Spider-People were nothing but a bunch of Ink on paper and pixels on a screen. He scoffed when he first found out about it.
Miguel completely understood how vast the multiverse was, how anything impossible here could be possible elsewhere. Heck, there was a goddamn Spider-Man that he recruited who was literally a popsicle.
A fucking popsicle!
What was his canon event? Did he fail to put Uncle Ben in the freezer??
Yet, to think that there was a world where people took his life, his existence and events he had suffered through as a form of entertainment to consume, it was...dare he say it, cruel? Sure, to them he wasn't real, to them it didn't harm anybody, but that didn't make his feelings any less valid.
After all, if someone were to take all of your past traumas, your grief and pain and turn it into a movie for their own enjoyment, something they can sit down to watch while they munch on their popcorn, surely you'd feel disgusted too, right?
Well, it just so happened that you were one of the people who viewed him as such. A fictional character within a fictional world.
But while others viewed his life, enjoyed it for a moment and moved on to the next story, you never really did.
There were a few reasons that made him decide to tune into your life. One of them was curiosity. What did you see in him? Why did you like him? And then there was boredom. Outside of his work, there was not much else to do. Fighting villains across the universe may sound exciting, but when it’s the only thing you would do, it became tiring. So seeing you go through your average life was a change of pace for him. There was also distraction. Watching his other self living a happy life in another universe became too depressing. The other part of him was self-centred. What else have you done for him? What length would you go to for him? How much did you love him?
It became a routine. Miguel would watch you when he found time for himself. Times behaved somewhat differently for each universe. He didn't know whether he was watching you in real-time or if this was all just some archives of your life.
Most likely this was an archive but he couldn't be sure.
The first thing he learned was your name.
The next was that you were a die-hard fan.
Of who? Well, of him.
At first, he didn't like you. Not one bit. He remembered the way he rolled his eyes as he judged you silently in his spot, his eyes watched as you put up picture after picture of him on your bedroom walls.
You were delusional too. He could never forget the confusion consuming his face as he raised his eyebrow, mouth opened agape at the comments you made about him.
Some mundane—at least coming from people like you—, others...well... inappropriate.
It was...creepy.
But throughout that judgement, there was also amusement. He was flattered by your love and dedication. It fed his ego very well. There was nothing you couldn’t do for the man. You worked hard, from taking extra shifts at the coffee shop you worked at to saving up money just to buy merch of him. He recalled being somewhat worried for you when you starved yourself of any food just to save up.
He got to see your satisfied smile though, hands on your hips proudly upon seeing the section of your shelf, dedicated to comics about his story, so perhaps to you, it paid off. You also managed to afford a few figures of him in his suit. Although you let out a disappointed sigh upon seeing that there was no option to remove his mask–you loved his face–, you still loved him just the same.
You bought plushies of him too. A small one was on your shelf while a big and round one was on your bed. Sometimes you'd cuddle that one to bed. You spent so much money on him that it was unbelievable. Why would you waste so much money?
He pinched the bridge of his nose in embarrassment when you came home with a life-sized cutout of him one day.
God, you were insane.
However, he kept coming back to the same room, the same screen and the same scene. He kept coming back to you.
And even though he was disturbed by how much you obsess over him, he never left. There was a little charm to your life, somehow. You were shy but social enough to serve customers at your job with a warm smile. You were timid and kept to yourself, but when given the opportunity, you'd ramble on and on about how amazing Miguel was and how much you wanted to...—yeah, he's not repeating that. It boosted his ego until you got to the crazy part…
You didn't care to clean up your tiny apartment, but when it came to your room, the room which was basically a shrine dedicated to the man, you'd clean and clean as if you were a germophobe.
You had your ups and downs. Even though life got tiring, you still found time for yourself. Sometimes you'd play games to pass the time, ranging from survival horror games to life simulators, one of which you managed to make a character who looked way too much like him and put him through many...strange scenarios. Why would you put him in a pool with Peter. B and took the ladder away?
Eventually, he got used to it. Sort of. Much to his surprise, your whole life didn't fully revolve around him. You did other things, and enjoy different franchises. You tend to obsess over them and when you did, you obsess hard. Yet, somehow one way or another, you'd return back to him.
It was a quiet night after a long day of fighting and work that Miguel realized you weren't just obsessing over him. You genuinely loved him through and through. Of course, you’d kick your feet and giggle at the sight of him like a high schooler seeing their crush, but he also caught the small genuine look on your face too. The way your eyes soften at the sight of him. Your loving smile. How you turned to him when you were going through a bad day, which sadly happened a lot. You saw comfort through him.
It was...nice in a way.
It made him feel good about what he was doing. This whole universe ordeal. He never wanted to do this. This life was exhausting and he just wanted to live in peace with his loved ones, but if he didn't, who would? He was the only one who had seen what could happen to the universe if people like him weren’t around to do anything. He had felt the pain and grief at the loss he had created. He won’t let that happen again. No one could handle this burden but him. It was his responsibility to ensure the safety of every universe in the multiverse.
So upon seeing you with his own eyes, not only protected but thriving, living happily simply because of his existence, fictional or not, it felt nice. You were a reminder that what he was doing mattered.
Maybe that was why he started to warm up to you.
But you weren’t really happy, were you?
He knew what you were like as a person, but he didn't know much about your life.
For whatever reason, he couldn’t rewind. It was a little unfair because you knew more about his life story than he could ever do with yours.
You knew everything from his first jump to Earth-67 to his previous attempt to live a happy life. It was shown to you like a movie projected on a screen. Well, he supposed that was what literally happened. It didn’t make him feel any less shameful, though. You’ve seen his most vulnerable moments, and undoubtedly his biggest regret.
Yet, as awful as the outcome was, you empathized with him. You acknowledged his selfishness, but you understood and empathized with him.
If you could, you'd escape to a reality where you were happy too, you said. If you could escape to a world where he exists, you'd do it too, you said.
And he found himself sighing in relief at the idea that your earth would never allow you to travel through the multiverse.
Think of how dangerous of an anomaly you would be trying to find him...
It did raise a question, however, why would you want to jump to a different world? Were you not happy here? How could you not be happy? There was nothing endangering your life. Although simple and basic, there was no danger to your world. It may be egotistical of him, but your love for him seemed to have given you happiness and comfort in your life.
Perhaps he could be overthinking it. Everyone wanted to live the best life they could ever live. They’d do everything to achieve that, even jumping across the multiverse. He knew he would. His old self did just that.
Some days when you're free, you'd sit down with a pen or brush depending on your mood and you'd draw what was on your mind. Today was one of those days.
Miguel learned that it was your dream to work full-time as an artist. You loved creating art and you loved throwing down your ideas onto a piece of paper or canvas, translating them into different kinds of images. From the sketches you’ve made on the napkins during your break, he’d say you were pretty good. Yet, you always doubted yourself. "I'm not good enough yet." You said to your co-workers when they asked why you stayed as a barista when you clearly had a passion for something else.
One time, he caught you drawing yourself in a Spider-Man suit, and it made him wonder if there was a world out there where you were one with the spider-verse.
If there was, maybe he should recruit you… However, that wouldn't be you, would it?
He was invested in this you's life, not others. You weren’t meant to be like him. You were just an ordinary person. Yes, you were a little weird with your obsession, but that’s what made you the person that you were. Even if there was a spider-you out there, your canon event would turn you into someone completely different. Losing someone you loved can change you. He remembered his old self—happy, good-natured, optimistic; kind of like you. He’s sure in another universe, nothing had changed and he remained the same man as he was before. Not in this universe. That man wasn’t him anymore. Just like how that other version of you, if they existed, wouldn’t be you.
Your events in this universe—whatever those events were—were what shaped you as a person. Your hyper fixation, your strange quirks, your dream of becoming an artist, your love for creativity and silly goofy music, he believed, were what made you, well, you.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Miguel rubbed his forehead gently as he let out a sigh, then turned his attention back to you in an attempt to calm his thoughts.
Today, he caught you trying to draw him. As much as you loved Miguel, you rarely tried to draw the man. In fact, you were scared to. Scared that you would "ruin his beauty" as you put it. His sharp features, brown messy hair and dark eyes were too beautiful to be butchered by you, you’d say. He remembered looking away, a frown formed on his lips to hide his flushing face. It was…a nice gesture. Flattering, even.
The next day, he caught you trying to draw him in...compromising positions and flattering immediately turned into disappointment, eyebrows dropped and lips turned into a judging frown as he stared at you like he would at Lyla for messing with him. Thankfully, you stopped abruptly, slamming the pen onto your desk as you cover your red tomato face, much to his relief. "I can't do it. I can't do it." You mumbled shyly to yourself as you spun in your desk chair in embarrassment.
Lyla would sometimes tune it to your life too, just to see why Miguel was so obsessed with you. She laughed at you like a mother would to her failing child, to which Miguel just shooed her away.
"Don't you think it's a little creepy to keep watching them? I understand you like them, Miguel but come on. It’ll just make you want to go there and you know too well that you can’t."
"Yeah, and they watched me too. They practically know everything about me. More than I would’ve liked so I don't see the difference."
"The difference, Miguel, is that you are fictional in that world. You know they're real and are out there somewhere. They don't. That's the weird part."
Maybe Peter. B was right. Maybe he was starting to see you as a character, reducing your existence to a bunch of collective ideas being put on a screen for an audience. The audience being him.
Even if you were just a character, you were a character with many sides to you. But calling you a character would be a disgrace to who you actually were. You were a person with thoughts and feelings, desires and dreams. And when Miguel thought he knew enough about you, you showed more sides to your life that proved him wrong.
Miguel was confused at first seeing how loud and bubbly you were around your friends, co-workers, and sometimes frequent customers. Yet, when around strangers or family members, you went quiet as if you had forgotten how to socialize. It was strange seeing you flip your personality like a light switch.
Then it hit him. And it hit him hard like a meteor shower. The sad realization that you didn't have that great of a relationship with your family broke Miguel's heart.
To Miguel, his family was everything. Although he didn't get to spend a lot of time with his daughter before the universe collapsed, he managed to create a strong bond between them. He loved his daughter with all his heart and to this day, he cherished all the time he had spent with her since the day he took on his double’s life, even if it was short-lived. Yet you, you knew your family for your whole life and you rarely received any love or compassion from them. What kind of parents would do that?
Everything you did, it wasn't good enough.
Anything you did well, this person did it better.
Every time you’d get excited over something, they’d call you crazy for it.
Any time you expressed any negative emotion, they’d tell you to be quiet.
Perhaps that's why, even with all the friends you had, you were such a lonely person. Sometimes by choice, sometimes by circumstances. Sometimes, Miguel would switch his screen to you only to find yourself locked in your own room. Your eyes are glued to the screen as you read stories about him. At first, Miguel thought nothing of it, but now he understood why you always returned to him.
After all, he was the only one who brought joy to your life.
Your parents were present but rarely for you. Aunts and uncles compared you to your more successful cousins while your grandparents belittled you for staying cooped up in your own apartment.
So eventually you turned to the fictional world for comfort. One where no one would judge you, or compare you to someone completely out of your league. One with characters who were not only beautiful but kind and understanding. The type of people who’d love and appreciate you, and treat you like family. In the lists of worlds you’d escape to, his were on the list and it was on the top too.
You turned to him for comfort.
And in a way, he turned to you too.
In his world where villains run rampage, not just in this universe but others too, in this world where he was in charge of everything, from recruiting new members and ensuring that the universe didn’t collapse to creating the Spider-Man 2099 Burger for the headquarters cafeteria’s menu, being able to relax in his office as he watched you through his screen like a soap opera brought peace and comfort to his mind.
To see you go through your everyday life as you went to work, serve customers with a loving smile before coming back home, satisfied with your job but still exhausted from the work, all while his fictional self was by your side—literally, you had a small keychain of him attached to your bag—,was the escape he could ever ask for.
He laughed sarcastically to himself at the irony.
He was disgusted at you for treating his life like a movie, but here he was doing the same.
Maybe Peter. B was right.
Maybe he was starting to see you as a character.
He knew you were not, though.
He looked up, dark-brown eyes filled with thoughts.
This must be how you viewed him. He was just a character in your world, nothing but a bunch of ideas being written down on a piece of paper, but you managed to humanise him through his story and his actions, in turn empathizing with him and loving him.
Perhaps he was doing the same to you. He was humanising you from an obsessed fan to a normal person with their own life.
Some days when you came home, you'd take off your shoes, changed into your favourite pyjamas and lay down on your bed as you scroll through your phone.
Just reading comics and watching movies about Miguel wasn't enough so you turned to fan works.
Although you had no power to travel across the universe to meet him, reading self-inserts about you and him was the closest you could get to being with the man.
On nights when you knew you won't have work the next day, you'd stay up and read them until morning. Some nights, you'd fall asleep halfway because you were too exhausted.
Tonight was one of those nights. Miguel observed you through the darkness. The only light illuminating your bedroom was that of the moon shining through your opened window and the screen from your phone that cast a glow onto your tired face. The soft sentimental music subtly came out of your headphone, accompanying the scene like soundtrack to a movie.
You were on your bed, phone in hand as you lay on your side. At first, you were fine. A little too silent for his liking but he brushed it off. He thought you must have had a long day. Did you get chewed on by one of your customers again? Probably. He’d seen how tiring they could be. However, as time went by and the more you read, the more worried he became as small sobs came out of your mouth, tears fell down your cheeks and seeped into the pillow underneath.
His eyes widen in confusion as he leaned into his screen, just to make sure he didn’t imagine it. Miguel had never seen you in such a state. You'd cry, sure, but usually, it was out of happiness. You'd cry with a smile on your face at something cute happening in the story or cry laughing at something absurd.
Yet, here you were, completely miserable. Your hands shakily clutched your phone as your eyes scanned through every word on your screen. Despite your blurry vision you kept going. The more you went, the louder your sobs were and the more tears fell as they decorated your red swollen cheeks. One of your hands reached out to his plushie before pulling them close to your chest, hugging it tightly with one arm.
He had never paid any interest to the kind of stuff you were reading, especially those about him. He had seen you'd kick your feet while giggling in joy. He’d seen the sudden jolt you'd make as you sat up straight from your bed and start describing what was happening in full detail to the wall like there was someone in the room with you. Because of that, he could guess—sometimes fully heard—what they were about.
This time, those actions were absent, instead replaced by your desperate cries as you swallowed yourself in your own misery.
You stopped, dropped your phone to your side and kept weeping as your curled yourself into a ball. Your left hand covered your swollen red eyes while your right arm held the plushie tightly as if it would disappear and turn into dust.
Your screen was still on. Though a bit dim, he was still able to make out the words displayed on the screen.
"I love you, mi tesoro. Even if we are worlds apart, my feelings for you will remain the same."
The last line of the story, supposedly spoken by Miguel himself.
That’s it. That was what broke you. A sweet dialogue from him that was meant for you.
However, Miguel knew there was more to it, just like how there was always more to you.
It must be sad being stuck in a world as dull as yours. Though you had a good job and a good sustainable life, that didn’t mean you were happy. He knew it must be lonely. The reality of it all must have hit you too. Living alone with no one truly by your side, turning to a person who was merely a string of thoughts that came out of somebody else’s mind, receiving love and affection from a wall of texts, that must be miserable, wasn't it?
But, Miguel was real.
He just wasn’t there with you. Instead, he had always watched you.
Yet unlike in those stories, he could never tell you that. He wouldn't get the chance to. His old self would try to reach out to you just to make you feel better, but not him now. He couldn’t risk the universe collapsing just so he could reach out to wipe away your tears. He wasn’t like that. The fate of the universe was more important to him than your comfort.
It hurt to admit that, but it was the truth. If you were here, you would agree too.
In a way, Miguel understood.
Just like how you felt empathy for him, he felt sympathy for you.
He understood your sadness. Your misery. Your desperate desire for escapism and love.
If he could escape to another world, one where his daughter was still alive, a world where he wouldn’t have to deal with this multiverse business without any consequences whatsoever, he would do it without a doubt.
But alas, he couldn't. Tried to once, it didn't end well. And with the complexity and somewhat unpredictability that your earth possessed, he could never go to you without risking his existence, or the safety of your Earth.
Instead, he was here, all alone with insufferable people who just so happen to have the same fate as him. Here he could only do one thing, protecting the multiverse from anomalies so that no world would suffer the same fate as his previous one.
And you? He knew you enough. He knew you enough to know that you would abandon your world if given the chance. You never jumped into another world, and you’d never get to either, but he knew if you could do it, you would. You'd jump from this miserable and boring world straight into his arms, then he'd drop you before brushing himself and sending you back to where you came from.
But if that were to happen, if there was a slight chance that you could travel to his universe, he would open his arms and welcome you with an embrace before he send you back.
You’d like some pats on the back too, wouldn’t you?
Then, he'd tell you that everything's okay too, that he would always be watching you. That would sound creepy to other people but not to you.
You'd cry into his arms if he did that. But it would be tears of happiness.
Miguel wouldn't mind that.
But you would never get to cry in his arms. Instead, you’d only be crying alone in your bed. And Miguel would be here watching you with no means to stop or comfort you. He could try reaching out to you, but his arm would only reach the other side of the holographic screen.
It was unfortunate.
You two were just never meant to meet with one another.