Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Earth-928.

“I don’t know how to fix this.”

Gwen remembers herself whispering this fragile plea as she stared at the eyes of her father. Then, she remembers a watch being tossed at her.

It was a temporary one, of course, since the two didn’t carry day passes with them to keep her from glitching outside her universe. Jessica Drew explains that it took a bit more convincing before Miguel O’Hara decided to trust her with her own watch.

Logically, it makes sense to her, as unfair as it feels. Especially when Gwen takes a look at the reddish contraption sitting small on the palm of Miguel’s outstretched hand. It takes her only an instant to wonder which button she needs to press to take her back to the one universe she still wants to return to.

She remembers the sweet, honourable boy who made her laugh, even if his jokes were unfunny. Even if he ruined her hair by accident, or got sweaty easily.

She remembers the boy who feels like home.

“You receive this as a member of our Society, but only on one condition.” Miguel states coldly.

“Which is?”

Gwen doesn’t wince at the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness, even if it’s tempting to do so. She knows his story. Miguel told her. Brought out his fancy virtual assistant and all her sass, and showed a universe that crumbled and broke apart. All because he just wanted to see someone he cared about.

The man stares at her so hard, she can feel it pierce her skin, like a spider’s bite. It’s like he knows what she’s thinking.

Don’t even think about it. His gaze seems to say.

“Under no condition are you ever to go near Miles Morales of Earth-1610,” orders Miguel. His jaw tightens as he speaks. “The watch is for mission-purposes only.”

Missions. Spider Society is to keep anomalies from destroying the many, many universes across space and time.

She grits her teeth. Curls her hands into fists. Gwen would love to argue this. She argues all the time, with her schoolmates, with her teachers, with assholes down the street trying to whistle at her. Hell, she’d even argue with her da-

Okay. Maybe let’s not think about that.

Instead of arguing, Gwen thinks about bright white lights branching off in the midst of a dark room. She remembers the terrified screaming of countless people and bright muddled colours as reality and all its senses warped in front of her. Vivid images appearing all across the space, burning into her eyes figures of people hunching over other dead people. Uncle Bens, Aunt Mays, Officer George S-

This time, Gwen visibly winces. She thinks of dark grey eyes with darker circles underneath them. Those eyes used to look at her so lovingly. She still hears the echoes of the gunshot, the click of pointed metal straight at her.

Her skin feel like pinpricks. The George Stacy of her universe is alive. Not well, but very much alive. But that man hates her. Believes her to be a murderer.

--She might as well be-

She couldn’t go back. She couldn’t.

Even if she missed him.

Gwen’s gaze lands on the watch, and then back to the icy face of the Spider-Man in front of her. Behind him, Jessica looks at her with sad eyes as she absentmindedly rubs her protruding belly. Beside her stands Peter B. Parker, holding his own little one. When Gwen’s eyes meet Peter’s, she sees resignation. Miguel must have also told him what would happen if he were to visit Earth-1610.

The cries of millions of people reverb in her head. Above all that, Gwen hears the click of a gun and knows what awaits her back in her universe if she does not comply.

She couldn’t go see him. She couldn’t.

Even if she missed him.

“Okay,” Gwen finally responds. “I won’t.”

Under her breath, she adds, “…If it means I get to stay here.”

She knows it’s the right thing to do, the good thing to do. The girl reaches her hand out as Miguel drops the dimension-hopping watch onto her palm as he makes his way back to his desk.

When the watch clicks around her wrists, Gwen tries not to think of her Miles Morales.

— 🕸️ —

Earth-138.

Gwen meets Hobie shortly after that.

It’s while she was in the Spider-Society equivalent of the temporary motel (Spidey Motel, the receptionist tells her. His name tag reads Peter Parker, Manager, in bold black letters) for the poor unfortunate souls unable to go home for whatever reason, or worse, no home to return to.

Usually, the motel doesn’t take long term stays. But, this particular Gwen Stacy is not a usual case. Jessica does the work of explaining to Manager Peter and hands her a key to a small, neat room (Room 1610- wow). Coolly, and Gwen really tries not to ogle the older woman this time, Spider-Woman tells her to sit tight for a bit. Eventually, Gwen will start receiving missions and projects, but right now, all she can do is wait.

And so, Gwen waits.

The blonde teenager sits at one of the cafes, and orders a latte and a bagel. Her fingers tap mercilesely against the marble surface of the table she sits at. Paradiddle-paradiddle-paradiddle-

“She’s a drummer, I reckon,” Gwen overhears someone behind her say. Thick British accent. “Bloody shame. A drummer that got no drum to go.”

“Excuse me?”

Her brows furrow slightly as she looks at the culprit. She sees the dark skin and curly locs, and is reminded of someone else, for a moment. Then, she takes in the sight of the piercings, the leather vest, the spiked dark red collar…

“You look like you seen a ghost, mate,” remarks this particular Spider-Man.

“I… didn’t know ghosts wear spikes,” replied Gwen.

“Punk ghosts do.”

“Huh.”

She’s not sure why, but she feels comfortable around this Spider-Man. All the others remind her far too much about Peter. Her Peter. Well… not all, some were cats, and dinosaurs, and cars, and some were really hot moms-to-be, but still. She had yet to meet someone who felt more like Miles.

Later, Gwen learns his name is Hobie Brown, and he’s quite literally a punk. Or an anarchist, as Hobie calls it. He hates fascists, rules, pigs (which Gwen learns means the police), the AM, the PM, labels. He works as a political artist, an activist, a punk band guitarist, briefly a runway model, and a damn good hero.

“Not a hero, bruv,” comments Hobie once. “I don’t believe in that self-mythologising narcissistic autocrat bollocks.”

If not a hero, Gwen considers Hobie a pretty damn good friend. More often than not, the two talk over late night fish and chips as they crash his flat in Camden of his universe post-mission. They talk about missions, funny variants they’ve seen in HQ. And sometimes, Gwen even dares talk a little bit about her first few adventures in Earth-1610. Gwen doesn’t mind. She’s happy to not be in a lonely motel room, with nothing but the flashes of her father’s face before she left, crossing her thoughts.

Gwen gives him a flat look as Hobie pops a French fry (“its chips, Gwendy. Chips.”) into his mouth. “You literally save people from bad guys, Hobie. How is that any different from a hero?”

“I save people from rigid rules, from authority.”

“My point still stands?”

“A hero implies there’s a bad guy.” Hobie says nonchalantly, albeit his eyes hover over Gwen’s in a way that make her feel assessed. He pops another fry in his mouth and chews slowly. “If you have authority, who’s to say what doesn’t go against them isn’t a bad guy?”

She pauses. She’s not sure how to feel about what Hobie is trying to imply.

Remember, Max- sorry, I mean Gwen, honey.
Always go by the book.
Rules are meant to protect innocent people.

“Rules are a sham, I should cocoa,” sniffs Hobie. Gwen blinks at the realisation that she probably said her dad’s rules out loud. “They’re consistent, and I don’t believe in consistency.”

His stubbornness makes Gwen think of Miles, then. How he insisted to fight and save the world, despite not knowing how to become Spider-Man just yet. Both of them didn’t play by the book, so to speak.

But… Hobie is not Miles. He’s kind, yes. He lets Gwen crash his place whenever the silence of her little motel room grows too loud for her heart to hear. He keeps her company when they cross the multiverse, looking for signs of failing universes, of mysterious wrinkles in time, of everything wrong.

But still.

“You know, even if you can’t bring yourself to break the rules, you can bend them,” comments Hobie.

He props his feet on the coffee table that he allegedly stole from the British museum (“Archaeologists are nothing but bloody tea leaves, Gwendy. We’re merely taking items back.”) and stares out the skylight of Camden.

Gwen looks in the same direction, but her attention falls instead on the blonde girl on the window pane. The girl in the reflection there looks tired. Defeated. Her legs are crossed on a beat up old couch, and the sweater she wears is so worn, it makes her so small.

She knows Hobie’s trying to tell her something.

But she thinks about Miguel. She thinks about all those people fading into particles of nothing. She remembers the huge black gaping holes that eat reality away into nothing. Anomalies are wrong. They’re unnatural and should have never existed.

Gwen thinks of Miles. The truth about him.

“You’re absolutely disgusting.”

“People like you are crimes against nature.”

“You’re a mistake.”

The thought makes her stomach churn.

How could anyone think of Miles Morales as unnatural? As a mistake? Anyone who meets him would know how genuine, kind, and funny he is. And anyone who sees the suit would see a noble, down to earth, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

Other people got to just be, no problem- why couldn’t she?

But that’s fate, right? Fate is cruel. Being Spider-Man (or Woman, or anything) is lonely. Is suffering. Their very being is unnatural, that the notion of fathers pointing guns at their children or calling them murderers, or mistakes makes no one in their society bat an eye.

“I…” Gwen releases the breath she’s holding. She wraps her arms tightly around herself but can’t seem to feel warm. “I don’t know. I think some rules make sense. They intend to protect.”

Hobie shrugs and proceeds to slowly get up from the beat up couch. “Suit yourself. I’m just saying that if I thought something was really, really worth fighting for, I’d find a way to bend the rules.”

She stays quiet for the rest of the evening.

— 🕸️ —

Earth-50101.

After a while, Gwen gets used to the interdimensional way of living. The ‘while’ being subjective, as different universes mean different time zones and different meanings of time. It’s confusing and as far from by-the-book life as Gwen has ever lived, and she loves it.

She even gets used to seeing and hearing Peter Parker again. Almost.

She befriends remains civil with most people in the Society. It’s not hard for her to catch people’s attention. Peter Parker’s of many universes see the blonde hair, the blue eyes, and immediately raise their hands and call to her “hey Gwen!”.

All these Peters, but they’re not the Peter she knew.

“I just wanted to be special.”

As if he wasn’t.

It messes with her. She has late nights in her motel where she stares up at the clinically white walls and hears the sound of her own heartbeat and breathing. She doesn’t have to listen too hard to hear a raspy final breath, or the haunting echo of a gun aimed at her head.

Ever so slowly, it drives her insane.

She figures that’s why Jess checks up on her during her missions a lot. Or why Hobie just lets her crash his flat whenever she feels like it. Normally, she’s annoyed by signs of pity, but lately she’s just tired.

Besides, even if Gwen is tired, she still has to do missions.

“What’s the mission today, Gwendy?” asks Hobie nonchalantly as Gwen returns from meeting with Jess at her station.

“Earth-50101,” reads Gwen, as she peers into the small white letters printed on her watch. “Gotta chase after some variant of Doc Ock there.”

She doesn’t expect the almost feral grin to spread across Hobie’s face.

“Been meaning to roll with him for ages, man,” exclaims Hobie. “I’m coming with.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, bruv. You’ll see soon enough.”

—

She gets to meet Pavitr.

Spider-Man of 50101 is only a month in, but he’s already a natural. Unlike Gwen, though, Pavitr Prabhakar didn’t train as a ballerina or gymnast. Heck, he claims to not even train at all.

“Don’t wanna get too buff, you know?” explains Pavitr casually as he balances upside down from a tall tower as she and Hobie dodge large robot arms attempting to rip their throats out. “I like my current figure.”

“Must not,” grunts Gwen as she backflips off another building and onto another one of the Doc Ock variant’s arms. “Be a snacker, huh? Isn’t everything like healthier here? You got that curry and- ack - ghee butter and stuff-,”

“Don’t! Gwendy, you’ll get him started,” calls Hobie, albeit too late.

Somehow the trio manage to take down a 70’s version of Doc Ock and save all of Mumbhattan, all while Pavitr nags Gwen about how ghee means butter and how one doesn’t pour milk milk into their cereal cereal.

“Yet another successful adventure for Spider-Man!” claims Pavitr smugly, as Gwen kicks the spider robot shield containing the 70’s Doc Ock back into the portal leading to HQ. “New girl isn’t bad at all!”

“She’s one to watch,” states Hobie. “We going for those samosas today, mate? Gwendy here’s gonna come with.”

“What are those?” asks Gwen.

People clap and cheer around them as they ensure all civilians are safe and sound while having their conversation. She’s only half listening to Pavitr talk about the wonders of deep fried vegetarian pastries as random people cry out thanks or bow at him. She stays behind with Hobie, being on Team I-don’t-really-care-for-attention.

That is, until she sees him.

“Miles!?” The name escapes Gwen.

But it’s not Miles. Not really. The boy looks nothing like Miles, the same way Pavitr looks nothing like Peter Parker of her universe. Yet, deep in her bones, Gwen knows that it’s Miles Morales, or at least this earth’s version of him.

“Miles Morales?” inquires Hobie, his voice low enough only for Gwen to hear.

Unable to speak, Gwen nods. Her eyes trail after the boy with the dark skin and short cropped hair, who is, while not the Miles Morales Gwen knows, a variant of him. She watches as he and his friends give their universe’s Spider-Man high fives and cheer him on, bro.

“How- I don’t- how is this even possible?” whispers Gwen.

Her head reels. It never crossed her mind that other universes would also have their own versions of Miles. It should have crossed her mind, but it didn’t.

“Weird, innit? To realize the realities of having multiple of them.” replies Hobie quietly. Gwen feels an arm gently lead her away from the crowd, and her attention from that boy. “Who’s to say there isn’t a Miles Morales in every universe?”

—

Who’s to say there isn’t a Miles Morales in every universe?

If I thought something was really worth fighting for, I wouldn’t mind bending the rules.

It’s all she can think about, even when Pavitr stuffs her and Hobie full of Indian street food and sweets.

An idea emerges and continues to develop as she makes her way back to Spider Society. She buries herself underneath the white blanket, and tries to remember how to breathe. Thoughts race in Gwen’s mind, leaving tracks across every part of her skull.

Miguel says she’s not allowed to see Miles Morales of Earth-1610. However, he never said anything about seeing other universes’ Miles.

It’s a stupid idea. A band-aid solution. But she’ll take it.

— 🕸️ —

Earth-1048.

“Hi! Nice to meet you. I’m Spider-Man. You can call me Miles. Miles Morales,” greets a young man as he extends a hand to Gwen to shake. “You’re Gwen Stacy, right?”

The two Spider-People stand on the rooftop of a building. Technically, Gwen is supposed to be teamed up with Peter-1048. However, she manages to pull some strings, and ask Peter-1048 questions, and learns quickly that the Miles Morales of this earth is also a Spider-Man. Leave it to Miguel to only tell Peter to join, but not Miles.

Gwen tries her best not to stare too deeply at this Spider-Man who shares the same name as her Miles. While he was objectively not bad looking, he’s taller, and has a rounder face and shorter hair cut. His eyes are less wide-set, less apprehensive.

He looks so different, he might as well not be Miles Morales at all.

“You know, you’re not the only Spider-Man, well, Person, right?” Gwen replies.

“Alright, sure.” Amused, the Miles of Earth-1048 laughs. It’s not the dorky laugh she knows. “It’s not like you’re a multiverse traveling visitor or something. Anyways, we gonna head out? Peter told me I need to show you the ropes. Well, the webs, really.”

Gwen cracks a lacklustre smile. She can tell when someone wants to be her friend. And she can tell when she’s not that up for it.

“Come on, let’s go, Spider-Man,” says Gwen, as she presses a few buttons on the yellow screen of her multiverse watch.

—

Miles of Earth-1048 is… definitely different. Like all Spider-folk, he leaps high from tall skyscrapers and lets his spiderwebs take the lead. He keeps an eye out for trouble and helps people retrieve their stolen items, and defeats the bad guys, and all that. He’s eager to help, and kind, and passionate, but-

“I technically learned this trick from Peter. My Peter. You know, Peter Parker of 1048?” Spider-Man of Earth-1048 explains as he does a particularly tight swing from one building to another.

“Ah yes, because you would have learned it from my Peter,” replies Gwen dryly, as she takes another swing and daintily split-jumps over a large McDonalds billboard.

“Oh,” chuckles Miles-1048 awkwardly. “I take it your Peter wasn’t the best at the superhero thing?”

Then and there, Gwen tries really hard not to scream. She actually wants to be nice to this universe’s Miles. It’s not his fault he doesn't know about her Peter. It’s not his fault he’s not her Miles.

But she can’t help but remember another boy from a different Brooklyn who also says silly things sometimes. However, that boy smiles sheepishly and winces and smiles through things. The memory leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

“He…” Gwen unclenches her jaw and huffs. “Let’s just say I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh.”

The two swing across Manhattan in tense silence until they reach their destination.

As they hang off the side of the Flatiron building, Miles-1048 reveals a white little robotic spider with three blinking red lights. A tracking device created by some of the more engineering/computer science focused Spider-people in the Society. Something to help track the anomalies, Jess informed her a while back.

She watches intently as he points out the mechanics of the spider gadget and how it connects to their multiverse watches. Less intently, she listens to Miles-1048 drone on and on about quantum physics about detecting anomaly particles. Kind of like how her Peter would talk for hours about photography, or physics.

Nerd, Gwen almost calls him. But that would be too familiar, too painful to admit to anyone, even if he is supposed to be the alternate version of the only other person she could ever allow herself to be friends with.

With a few clicks, the spider robot activates and starts scurrying across the wall.

“If my calculation is correct, the anomaly should be headin’ our way any second-”

Suddenly, an ear-splitting roar breaks the usual sounds of New York City.

“Anddd, duty calls,” says Miles-1048 breezily. He nods at Gwen. “New York City needs their Spider-men. Uh, and women. Uhh, Spider-people. Later!”

Gwen sighs as Spider-man of Earth-1048 shoots a web and cuts through the skyline towards the sound of the noise.

Her brooding can wait. She needs to help people first.

—

After discovering a rogue team of bandits from some space pirate universe… after a bit of nagging hovering from virtual Jess… after some quick thinking and a clever maneuvering of a construction crane, after capturing the anomalies and sending them to HQ… Miles-1048 buys Gwen beef empanadas.

“They’re not as good as my Mami’s, but these are sold in the bodega a few blocks from here. Can attest they’re good,” says the man sheepishly, as he hands Gwen a dandelion-yellow pastry that smells heavenly.

She accepts it graciously. “Thanks.”

Ever so quietly, the two superheroes sit on top of one of those fancy condo buildings in the Upper West Side. The sky turns slowly from a bright blue to a deep orange as the sun slowly makes its descent. The distant wails of sirens and cars honking and life happening fills the air. No matter what universe, New York City never fails to just be.

“I’m sorry. For what I said earlier.”

“Huh?” Eyebrows raised, Gwen looks at the teenager sitting beside her. The boy behind the mask looks pensive as he stares out into the distance, a half-eaten beef patty on hand.

“About your Peter,” clarifies Miles-1048. “I know Peter Parker isn’t always lucky in every universe. He’s… told me some things. About the other versions of himself.”

He adds softly, “I’ve only ever known my Peter. Like, really knew him. People come and go, and there’s multiverses and all, but like… He was there when Dad died. So… yeah. I’m sorry. I don’t know what your relationship with your Peter was like, but he must be pretty special.”

“…Yeah. He was.” Gwen coughs a little.

It’s not just Peter who’s special to me, she thinks.

“But good job today,” says Miles-1048. “We make a good team. You should come and visit again, Spider-Woman.”

“…yeah.”

—

She gives all her Earth-1048 missions to Pavitr after that.

— 🕸️ —

Earth-616.

Gwen tries not to look for Miles Morales much.

But then she does.

Gwen tries not to think about Miles Morales much.

But then she does.

Gwen tries not to compare them to her Miles Morales much.

But then she does.

And she’s not the only one.

“I saw a Miles in my universe,” remarks Peter B Parker once. “He seems like a good kid. Like our Miles. Studies Science at university or something.”

They stand on the ninth floor of a tall building back in Nueva York. It’s an entire open concept garden, with towering trees and crawling vines and colourful flowers all about. The open blue sky towers above them in all its artificial intelligent glory. Perfect for a tiny baby to crawl around and explore, while her father and his friend have a quiet conversation.

“Isn’t he always?” Gwen mutters. “A good kid, I mean.”

Mayday shrieks in delight as a tiny translucent butterfly flutters it’s wings above her. Blankly, Gwen watches those bouncy red curls and wishes she was just like her. No thoughts, no regrets, just here to experience now.

Peter B sighs. “I wouldn’t know. I assume so.”

“Don’t you…” Gwen fiddles with the watch latched over her wrist. Every button. Every universe. So close to him yet so far away. “I don’t know… do you ever want to find something close to him?”

She observes as his shoulders stiffen at the idea. The lines on Peter B appear to almost deepen in an instant as he rubs the back of his neck tiredly. He bends down and picks up his infant, and places a tender kiss on top of her head.

“I don’t think so. I didn’t try to look for this kid, I just did. Crazy to see how much he looked just like him,” sighs Peter B. “But…”

“It’s never really the same, huh?” finishes Gwen.

“That. And well,” Peter B hums as he looks out into the distance of Nueva York. “It’s like… trying to cover a hole with paper. There’s only so much you can do to cover up the problem.”

How then, thinks Gwen, do I solve this problem?

But she says nothing. It’s hard to. It’s like shouting into the void, or trying to hard to chase after someone you can’t save. Fruitless. Spider-Man exists to save the day and solve problems- how can she accept this as a problem she can’t solve?

Joyfully, Mayday giggles as her father playfully tickles her tummy. The sight is so innocent, it causes the corners of Gwen’s lips to turn ever so slightly. What an adorable handful. No wonder why Peter B never has to think of anything else.

The silence goes on forever.

And then it doesn’t.

“Isn’t it almost time for Mayday’s nap?” Gwen asks, out of the blue. “Can I tag along? I heard the empanadas down in 616 aren’t too shabby.”

Peter B squints at her, the brown and grey hairs of his eyebrows knit together seamlessly. She stares back down at him, daring him to try and question her. He knows she has problems she doesn’t know how to fix. They all do. That’s why Miguel let’s them in in the first place.

“I… don’t think it’s a good idea, Gwen-,”

“Come on, Peter! Just one trip,” says Gwen. Pleads, almost. “Its not even going against Miguel. It’s not even our Miles.”

Finally, he releases a small groan and bounces the baby in his carrier a little. “Alright Mayday. It’s nap time. Auntie Gwen and I will take you home.”

She grins at him, and her friend offers her a slow, sad smile.

—

Miles C. Morales of Earth-616 is a good kid.

Peter B is right, he’s just a normal kid. A little older, and leaner, but still a kid. He studies General Sciences for college, and he plays basketball with his friends in his spare time. Everyone in Harlem who knows him loves him, or at least can say one good thing about him.

She can’t help herself when she sees him.

“Uhh, hey!” She says awkwardly. She tucks the long part of her blonde hair behind her ear because she's not sure what to do with her hands. “I’m new here to this college, and a little lost. Can you help me out?”

Way less awkwardly, Miles-616 smiles at her. “Sure! I’m not seasoned here but happy to help.”

He shows her around a generic college, and she spends most of it feigning interest in old buildings and courses and clubs. Without thinking, this Miles lets slip little tidbits about his life. He dislikes chemistry but is good at it, thinks Math is fun but struggles to do homework until the last second. His mom used to work as a nurse in a nearby hospital, and his dad is a lieutenant for the local police force.

“Dad works with Spider-Man, you heard of him right?” Miles-616 chuckles and spreads his arms wide.“Swings across buildings like this, man. Cool dude.”

She laughs, then, thinking of old Peter B with his dad bod and his infinite stack of diapers and baby photos in his phone. Total image of cool. “Yeah, I heard of him.”

“Man, the stuff he does is crazy. Could never be me.”

“Y…Yeah.”

Gwen looks at this nice, normal Miles and her gut twists into knots. Would he have been happier just being a normal kid? In the grand picture of things, where would that leave Gwen?

Knock it off, Emo, thinks Gwen to herself as Miles babbles nonsense about the tacos being infinitely better in this little shop down the street. This isn’t your Miles.

But Miles-616 is a little more reminiscent of her Miles. The similar interests, the curly hair, it was like looking into one of those aging apps, just two years into the future but without the Spider-man active lifestyle.

Gwen thinks she can be friends with this Miles.

She asks questions, then, and feels just a teensy bit more comfortable doing so. She asks him about how his courses are going, what he wants to do. She smiles when he tells her he wants to help people, even if he’s not sure how yet.

“Thinking of maybe being a cop, like my old man,” laughs Miles-616. “The Bishops wouldn’t approve, though. Def wanna make them happy.”

“The… Bishops?” asks Gwen. The hairs on her skin stand, as if something dangerous approaches them as they speak.

“Miles!” A voice calls.

She watches, then, as time moves in slow motion. A bubbly girl with black hair and pink bangs jogs over to Miles-616, arms out. He hugs her back, and they laugh. Their mouths touch. Wait. What?

“Oh, sorry,” apologises Miles of this universe, when he breaks out of the kiss with this other girl. He pulls the girl close and grins at Gwen. “This is my girlfriend, Katie Bishop. Katie, this is Gwanda, a new student!”

Numbly, Gwen stares back. Her skin feels like ice and clammy, and she’s not sure if she’s even breathing.

They look happy. Miles looks happy. The happiest he ever looked.

“Cool name!” Katie chirps. Gwen doesn’t miss the way her arms curl around tighter around Miles’ arm. Miles of this universe. “Is it foreign?”

“Uh. Yeah. South African.”

Her mouth recites the lines of an ancient joke. The words are supposed to leave funny, but instead trail bitterness all over her tongue.

The multiverse watch suddenly beeps and buzzes. From the screen, Gwen sees the yellow-gold screen reflect a message. A mission with Hobie. Okay. Great. She can do that.

“Anyways, I gotta go,” says Gwen frantically. She doesn’t look at either of them in the eye. “Bye!”

She flees, then. She tries not to think about every universe, and the plain fact that if there were no anomalies, there should have never been a space for Gwen Stacy in any Miles’ life.

—

Gwen tries not to cry over Miles Morales.

But then she does.

And she’s the only one.

—🕸️ —

Earth-2023

After Earth-616, Gwen buries herself in missions.

It’s easy to do so. She wakes up, she gets something to eat in the cafeteria (else face Jess’ nagging), she receives her missions, she jumps universes, she captures the anomalies, and goes to wherever she can crash for a night, and sleeps.

Rinse. Lather. Repeat.

She knows everyone knows something is up- Jess, Pavitr, Peter B, Hobie. People- at least, the people who matter to her right now- look at her differently. It’s the same way her former band mates, the Mary Janes, would look at her. It’s the same way people at school would gawk at her, when she changed her name, her clothes, her hair.

She feels like an anomaly. She feels like she’s twelve years old again, insisting the world to see her as Gwen. To acknowledge her as Gwen.

“You alright, Gwendy?” Hobie inquiries one day.

They’re on a random mission to find an anomaly. A pack of woolly mammoth mysteriously appears in a city called Manilattan, Earth-2023. The city is similar to Pavi’s world, but with less spice, more karaoke sets, and more humidity. Oh and they called their Spider-Man Gagamboy, but he was chill with them calling him Spider-Man.

“I’m fine,” Gwen lies back.

“Don’t seem fine to me, mate.”

“I kinda agree, dude,” says Spider-Man of Earth-2023, a college kid called Peter Pacquiao. He claims to be distantly related to a famous boxer and uses his physical prowess to punch villains in the face. “We could go boxing after this. I’ll introduce you to my coach!”

“Nah, I’m more into ballet,” says Gwen, as she bounces across one colourful jeepney to another. She doesn’t look at Hobie, as she adds, “let’s just focus on the mission.”

She works with the other two to round up all the woolly mammoth in a gigantic coliseum. The poor gigantic things trumpet and gradually collapse against the dusty concrete roads, unable to take the heat. Oh, and the random glitching doesn’t help.

People gawk and take out their phones to film the beats as Hobie, Spider-Man 2023, and Gwen create as much web casing as possible to keep the mammoth tribe from suddenly trying to escape. She feels Hobie try to look at her so she busies herself with the spider robot to capture the anomalies to send back to HQ.

Her fingers shake as she tries to tap the proper buttons to activate the robot’s capture feature. The air is hot and muggy, and her suit sticks to her skin, slick with sweat. Gwen feels so gross and her head hurts, and she just wants to run away but everything is fine-

“You need help, Gwen-,” asks Hobie.

“I said I’m fine, Miles-!”

As soon as the name leaves her lips, the world screeches to a halt. The eyes on Hobie’s Spider-Punk suit widen and then narrow at her, staring straight into her eyes from the fabric.

Gwen swallows. Her heart pounds and she hangs her head in embarrassment. Would Hobie think she’s being racist or stereotyping all people of a certain skin color? He always goes against the establishment, and she didn’t mean to offend him-

“Word of advice, then,” says Hobie slowly. He points towards the robot spider. “Click the button to the right side twice and then throw it hard in the middle, yeah?”

She listens, then. Once the buttons were pressed, she aims at the middle of the mammoth pile and swings her arm so hard it feels it might break out of the socket.

TAK!

In a series of beeps, the spider robot releases its cages. Oddly enough, once the cage closes on the prehistoric animals, the animals suddenly calm down. Some even slowly stand up.

“Yo, it’s cold! Does this have aircon?” asks Spider-Man 2023 curiously, as he presses his hand against the surface of the energy field. “Cuz like, I can think of a few universes that need this.”

“Don’t think Miguel’s gonna like that,” responds Gwen. She brushes some dust off her white suite, and stares at this universe’s hero as he presses his entire back against the surface of the energy field. “Canon events, and all that.”

“The real pig’s the owners of the energy establishments, anyhow,” comments Hobie. “Fam, do us a cheesy quaver, yeah? Gotta chat with ol’ Gwendy here.”

Poor Peter-2023. Gwen almost laughs as the third hero cocks his head and stares confusedly at Hobie. “Cheesy quaver? Like… cheese corn? There’s some down the street if you want-,”

“He means do us a favour, Peter,” translates Gwen. “Hobie and I need to discuss something.”

“Oooooh!” Peter says, giving both of them a thumbs up. “Got it! I’ll take these guys back to HQ.”

“Cheers, mate,” says Hobie.

“Thanks, Peter,” Gwen says at the same time.

She feels the pit of her stomach sink, and she releases a long sigh. Time for her and Hobie to talk.

—

Once the two arrive at Hobie’s flat, she expects him to cuss her out. She expects him to toss out her things, or set them on fire. What she doesn’t expect is for Hobie to give her a big hug.

“Never too punk to hug it out with the mandem, yeah?” He whispers as she sinks into his leather vest, mostly from shock.

Gwen bursts into tears, then. She thinks of her old man back at home in Earth-65, who used to ask the same thing. She never visits her home turf, and never plans to. The thought of that empty house, those defeated eyes… it’s too much to fathom.

Hobie lets her cry it out until she’s over it. When she’s done, she pushes him away and wipes the residual tears on her cheeks with the back of her wrist.

“I’m sorry I called you Miles,” she says, after a while. “He’s just… the first friend I’ve really had since Peter. My Peter.”

She mentioned her story to Hobie. They all do. It’s customary for every Spider-Person to talk about their story. Their loss. Their canon event. It’s nothing Hobie doesn’t know.

Hobie raises an eyebrow, but makes no other sound.

Gwen’s surface cracks, then. She plops herself unceremoniously down on Hobie’s beat up couch and talks. She describes all the Miles Morales she’s seen and spoke to so far. She notes how similar they are, but how the differences stand out, in stark contrast. She talks about the different ethnicities, the similar names, the parents that are in the story but not always in the picture. It’s a canon divergence, all of it different yet all of it so painfully the same.

There is no space for Gwen Stacy in the life of Miles Morales.

When she finally finishes rambling, she sprawls out on one end of the couch, a spray painted, knit throw full of anti-capitalist patches sewn in covers her legs. On the other end, Hobie stares straight into the screen of his television. His feet are up on a pile of boxes full of propaganda he stole a while back (he tossed out the coffee table a couple of days ago. He doesn’t like consistency).

“All that destiny bollocks,” interrupts Hobie. Gwen looks up and sees his lips purse, and a little gray tongue swipe against one of his lip piercings. “Sometimes a fella’s gotta make that space, yeah? Stupid to think that just because every world seems one way, you have to follow.”

“But Miguel says-,” Gwen attempts to say, before Hobie shushes her with a finger to her lips.

“Sometimes people say things, Gwendy,” says Hobie in a low voice as he leans towards her. “But it doesn’t mean they truly understand what they’re saying.”

Chills run up Gwen’s spine. The conversation they are having suddenly feels… risky. Dangerous almost. She feels like they’re being watched, but she’s not sure if it’s just Hobie speaking like his usual, chaotic self.

“All I’m saying,” says her friend. Hobie pulls away, and his eyes flicker just barely to the watch on her wrist. “Is keep doing what you’re doing, Gwendy. It’s more powerful than you think.”

“Powerful?” Gwen almost laughs derisively. Helplessly, she throws her hands up in the air and her head back against the soft cushion of the couch. “All I’m doing is feeling worse.”

She thinks of all the different earths. She thinks of Hobie in front of her. She thinks of her Miles. Her kind, stubborn Miles Morales, who wanted so badly to be a good Spider-Man, who didn’t know he wasn’t meant to even be Spider-Man.

Gwen misses him.

She misses him so badly.

But she’s also scared to see him. How could she not be? It’s been, what, over a year since they last spoke? She isn’t even allowed to visit him. If she does, who knows what would happen? Miguel would send her back. And she’d have to see Dad, if he was still even… It would be problem after problem after problem she didn’t know how to fix.

“I’m really sorry,” mutters Gwen. She shuts her eyes hard and releases that breath she’s holding. The tightness in her lungs eases. “It’s just so complicated, Hobie. It hurts like hell to see different people and just see him. But it also hurts to not see him.”

“So don’t see him.”

Gwen snorts. “Doing that.”

“You don’t get it, bruv,” says Hobie. He pulls one of his knees close to his chest in a light stretch. “What I mean is… do you see me as him? Miles Morales?”

The question slaps her in the face.

“No! Not at all! I mean, I know it comes off super stereotypical to say you guys look alike- which you two don’t, by the way,” rambles Gwen frantically. “You two are very different. And I am also very different. I mean, like, there’s the fact that I’m a girl, and also from a different- uh- background-,”

But she knows he doesn’t mean it in that way. Her search for Miles isn’t based on appearances. It’s something deeper.

“Relax, Gwendy,” chuckles Hobie soothingly. He releases one of his legs and turns to her. “I know, in the grand scheme of things, I’m a Brit anarchist version of Miles. Or your Miles is some American version of me. The same way you know what becomes of you in many other worlds, yeah?”

At the thought, the girl shivers and digs her fingernails into the skin of her thigh. She thinks back to when she would say hello to many of those Peters back in Spider Society, and how blankly they’d stare back at her, or call her name. The death of a dear friend is a canon event, too, right? It’s just the matter of what name that dear friend has- whether its Gwen Stacy, or Peter Parker…

“And I’m more than just some bloody substitution of Peter Parker,” continues Hobie, cutting through her thoughts. He gives her a long look she’s unable to read. “Or even Miles Morales. I’m Hobie Brown, and I’m the one and only Spider-Punk. Hell, I’m the one and only Hobie Brown. The same way you’re the only Spider-Gwen, and the one and only Gwen Stacy.”

“Tell that to all the dead Gwen Stacys out there,” mutters Gwen. She curls up into herself. “Canon… remember?”

“What I’m saying, Gwendy, is that sometimes you need to look fate in the eye and go ‘what of it?’,” says her friend. “All these people in the universes you see? They’re still their own people. Think of it as just… meeting people. Making friends, or something of it.”

“I…” She falters.

Gwen thinks of lights connecting like spider-webs. Of collapsing realities, and millions of people glitching and then fading from existence. She thinks of destiny, and of the inevitable. She thinks of the only boy she’s never going to be able to see, and of the other people in the world who just like him but never really the same.

It’s funny. This coping mechanism she’s starting to get into. She knows as well as anyone that it’s just covering up manholes in paper, or band-aids on deep wounds. These people share the same story, but they’re not the same boy that made Gwen feel, for once in a long, long time, comfortable.

No matter what universe, what timeline, how seemingly perfect in image or in likeness, Gwen Stacy knows that’s not, and that will never be, her Miles Morales.

But at the same time… Gwen misses Miles enough to start going out there and getting to know people once again.

It's so funny, she laughs.

“Has anyone told you you’d make a terrible therapist, Hob?” giggles Gwen, as she takes in the absurdity of it all. “Trying to get me into this weird post-mission hobby- ha! Hobby Brown. Was this your master plan?”

“Nah. Just looking out for my drummer, that’s all.”

She feels an arm loop around her and she leans in with a sigh. It feels like how she used to feel with her Dad. Or Peter.

“You’re a good friend, Hob.” whispers Gwen. “I’ve never had a sibling, but you come close.”

Hobie laughs. “Multiverse adoption. Now that’s punk.”

Gwen laughs back. For the first time in a long time, she feels less alone.

— 🕸️ —

Once again, Gwen makes a routine for herself.

She wakes up, she makes sure to eat something nutritious, she receives her missions, she jumps universes, she captures the anomalies, and she goes home.

After work, however, she finds herself meeting new people- new Miles, to be exact.

Gwen plays it cautious, of course. She doesn’t jump into other universes unless they relate to the missions Miguel and Jess give her. According to Hobie, one never knows who’s keeping track of their watches. And it makes sense to Gwen. Miguel’s lair contains ten millions screens. She believes he keeps watch, and for the most part thinks it’s for a good cause.

Also, she never visits the same Miles twice. But that’s mostly for her mental health.

It’s… weird to be talking to people again. Like, actually talking, not work or mission talk. Even if it was mostly mindless chatter or learning about the other’s story, which she’s more or less familiar with. Gwen finds herself asking awkward questions, or making too straightforward remarks that probably should have been kept to herself.

But she still tries.

And, honestly… some universes’ Miles Morales aren’t half bad.

There are some Miles that are very similar to the Miles of Gwen’s memory, like those of Earth-14621 or Earth-12131. They’re pretty regular, run-of-the-mill Spider-Men she’s able to complete missions with, and also quickly escape from as soon as they start asking any questions about HQ and the Society.

There are also more interesting versions. There’s one universe where Miles Morales is mayor of New York City of Earth-13153. He’s considerably older, and has a belly comparable to Peter B’s. He also fights monsters, and is pretty quick to round up a few stray anomalies for Gwen after almost killing her.

“My apologies, young lady,” apologizes Miles-13153, as he tosses a few stray Viking warriors into one of Gwen’s traps. “Not many people go through our city’s defenses.”

“That’s okay, man,” replies Gwen, as she throws a spider robot at a few other anomalies. “I get it’s a bit rough out here.”

She side-eyes some of the monsters lurking outside of the shield protecting New York City. Semi-apocalypse. In this universe, NYC is the last city standing. What a depressing universe. Gwen secretly thanks whatever divine being exists that she doesn’t belong to this reality.

“Nothing an old mayor like me can’t fix!”

While bittersweet, that version of Miles makes her smile. Gwen thinks of him as a sweet older gentleman with good intentions towards his city. He’s the first Miles she thinks a little bit about visiting again, mostly because he’s just some friendly neighborhood mayor that she can make small talk with.

Oddly enough, there’s never a mission assigned to Earth-13153 after. Not that Gwen dwells too much on it. There’s always more worlds to explore, and more anomalies to track and return to their home worlds. And new versions of Miles to pine over get to know.

Like Melanie Morales, or Mel, for short. She’s a rather tall teenager with long black braids and a pretty smile that goes well with her white Filas. Gwen bumps into her while finishing up the last of the mission assigned to that world (AKA capturing weird mummified things calling out for some god called “Khonshu” or something like that).

“Hey! You’re, like, super pretty,” says Mel. Dimples appear on her cheeks as she reaches a hand out towards Gwen. “I”m Mel Morales! What’s your name?”

“I”m gay.”

“What?”

“Gwen! I’m Gwen! My name is Gwen! Anyways, bye.”

Later that evening, both Pavitr and Hobie laugh at Gwen for about five minutes straight. At least until she starts pelting them with potato and pea samosas.

—

Days… and weeks… and months pass in seconds.

These days, it doesn’t take half the night for Gwen to fall asleep. And when she dreams, she doesn’t hear the click of a gun, or see the defeated face of her father asking her relentlessly why she lied to him. When she dreams, she doesn’t think of Peter’s battered face, his fingers weakly brushing against her face, calling her special.

Sometimes, though, Gwen dreams of sitting back on that bus heading back from Hudson Valley. She remembers the conversations she had with Miles. The way their eyes linger.

“You know what? We should take a photo!” Miles said. The real one. The only one that mattered. “You know, since it’s my first time practicing the whole, y’know, Spidey thing.”

To her surprise, instead of a phone, Miles whipped out a tiny pastel blue polaroid camera.

For a moment, her eyes widened. Then, Gwen laughed. “Did you seriously take a camera with you on your very first chase?”

“Technically, it’s my roommate’s. Thought I swiped a first aid kit, but ended up bringing this. Peter says its nice to take photos,” explained Miles. “Besides, I just wanna take some notes, and photos are good notes. Who knows? Maybe I can master this whole thing if I review it enough.”

Gwen looked at the boy in front of her. He’s fifteen months younger than her, and trying to act cool. He was absolutely ridiculous. It was cute.

“Sure,” she said. “One photo.”

When Gwen wakes up, she wishes she can look at that photo again.

Too bad she can’t.

But, she can always see Miles. Sort of. With every universe, there’s a Miles Morales to meet, and distract her just a little bit.

—

And they distract her.

More days pass, and Gwen discovers more of all the Miles every universe has to offer.

There’s Earth-13122, where the entire universe consists of lego blocks. Miles Morales of this world is so tiny, and still tries to give her the ‘shoulder touch’ (or in this case, the barely-a-touch). Still so cute and so ridiculous. The Miles of this earth amuses her.

There’s another world where Miles is a famous artist. But this Miles is cold, and snooty, so Gwen makes sure to tell him to his face that his works look like Banksy before she teleports back to HQ.

There’s a universe where Miles replaces Peter Porker, too. Though, Gwen makes sure not to mention this to her porcine friend back at the Society. Admittedly, it’s jarring for her to see a version of her friend but in the shape of a talking pig.

Oh, and there’s also a version of Miles that works as a physicist for Alchemex. He’s absolutely normal, sipping on coffee and bagels as he works on his quark experiments, yet Gwen dislikes this one the most.

Actor. Teacher. High school student. DJ. Cake decorator. Spot cleaner. Married man. Divorcee. Child. Father. Policeman. Nurse. Thief. Dropout. Magna Cum Laude. Hundreds of worlds, and hundreds of possibilities. Not all of them are pretty, but all of them are his.

Gwen peers into new worlds, new lifetimes, and observes so many lives of Miles Morales. But that’s all she ever does. Observes.

She knows there’s nothing really to stop her from trying to meet these people again, but she doesn’t. Perhaps it's the nagging voice of Miguel O’Hara inside her head, telling her about canon events and worlds falling apart. Or perhaps it's the voice of Peter B telling her that it's not a good idea. Or perhaps its just her own self, shaky at the thought of losing yet another Miles Morales.

Or maybe…just maybe… it’s because Gwen understands she can’t fight against fate.

So she observes. When needed, Gwen does missions, or has small exchanges, but never more than that.

—🕸️ —

Earth-928.

“Hey, Gwen,” calls out Jess, one day. “C’mere for a sec.”

They’re in the tech room, where Margo Kess works on sending anomalies back home via that creepy gigantic spider thing. Gwen always frowns at the sight of Spider-Byte working on her thing, though she’s not sure why. She figures the sight of a gigantic machine with the ability to send her back home is enough to activate her spidey sense.

Home. The thought makes all her hairs stand up on end.

“What’s up, Jess?” asks Gwen, as she heads over to her senior.

“I got a special mission. You up for the job?”

It takes every fiber in Gwen’s DNA for her not to fangirl and screech YES. She couldn’t help herself around Jessica Drew sometimes. The older Spider-Woman is so beautiful, and cool, and so woman. And she does all those badass stuff while pregnant? Woman. Gwen wishes she could be born with that energy.

“Uh, yeah! Cool! What’s the job?”

When Jess tells her, Gwen pales.

“I…” She whispers. “I… Uh. Is that even a good idea?”

“Personally, no, I think it’s a terrible idea,” admits Jess. She leans forward awkwardly to tap into a computer screen without knocking her baby bump into the edge of a table. “But… think of this as a test or so.”

“A… test?”

Jess nods. “Think of it as a graduation test. Pass this, and maybe we’ll hand you more… delicate missions and trust you’ll be able to achieve them. Fail this and…”

“I get arrested,” finishes Gwen. She tries so hard not to scream in despair and horror as she stares at Jess. “Jess, you know why I can’t go back there. You and Miguel were there. What if my Dad-!”

Oh god. Dad. There goes another problem she doesn’t know how to fix.

“Yeah. That’s it.”

“That’s it? That’s it?” Gwen stares in disbelief at her senior, who looks back at her with a strange expression that she only ever saw on Peter B. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t refuse this mission!”

“Because pass this, and your next mission is Earth-1610.”

Gwen pales again.

—

The mission is simple- find a shadow version of the Prowler capture him, and bring him back to Spider Society to return home. Easy peasy, if Gwen ignores the fact that Spider-Gwen is on every wanted poster in the city.

She makes sure to wear a large sweater, and has the hood on to cover her face. Gwen Stacy is missing, after all. And she doesn’t want to be found.

And it’s easy for her to melt into crowds. Gwen Stacy does not do friends, and people ignore her as much as she ignores them. She keeps a lookout for any passing NYPD cars, and only keeps on the busiest possible streets.

Her heart hammers against her ribcage, and her fingers feel ice cold. She’s fought gigantic monsters with vicious jaws, and criminals ready to destroy her with swords or machine guns, yet those things don’t scare her as much as walking in Lower Manhattan of Earth-65. It may not be Chelsea, NY, but why the heck did it have to be so close?

She feels like a mess. Her mind jumbles and scatters across dimensions, yet focuses only on one thing.

Earth-1610. I shouldn’t see him.

Earth-1610. I can’t see him. The canon.

Earth-1610. I want to see him.

Come on, thinks Gwen as she surveys the area for any suspicious movement. Just let me catch you so I can leave and never come b-

Suddenly, Gwen feels a hand on her shoulder. Immediately, her skin crawls. An overwhelming wave of deja vu sweeps over her body before she’s able to turn around.

“Hey.”

Gwen laughs, then. Soft, sad. Of course fate is cruel. How could fate not be? She turns to look into the familiar brown eyes of Miles Morales of Earth-65.

It’s a slap in the face. The most similar version of Miles is the one in Gwen’s universe.

“Hey…” replies Gwen, awkwardly. Her eyes trail to the hand on her shoulder, and she’s really glad this Miles picks the exact same side where her head is shaved. “Um… feeling sticky aren’t we?”

“Uh,” Suddenly, Miles-65 pulls his hand back. Gwen is really glad his hand doesn’t stick to her. She likes to keep both shoulders, thank you very much. “I just wanted to say… like, you’re the drummer from that band, right? The Mary Janes?”

“Oh!” Oh. Yeah. That band didn’t cross her mind in, what, months? “Yeah. I quit.”

“Oh. Dang.” Miles-65 rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “That sucks. I liked watching you play. You’re very good.”

“Thanks…”

“Why’d you quit?”

“Let’s just say they weren’t a good fit.”

“I see…” says Miles-65. “Guess it’s time for you to start your own band, then?”

“Hm. I guess,” replies Gwen.

She doesn’t really think of what he’s saying. She just looks at the basketball jersey, the red shoes that her Miles really likes. It’s easier to take apart his clothes than his face, and think of someone else.

But still, the face, the mannerisms… she can’t help but think that this is the closest she’ll ever get to seeing her Miles again. And it really sucks.

“Um… do I have something on my face?” Miles-65 asks slowly. His smile looks pinched.

“No,” says Gwen. She realizes she’s been staring. “You just remind me of a guy I know.”

“…Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She takes this as her cue to leave. However, before she can turn and walk away, he starts talking again.

“Sooo, this guy,” says the boy. The corners of his lips turn the same way, into that dopey look that made her want to laugh, even when the jokes weren’t funny. “He must be some hell of a guy.”

Gwen lets out a soft chuckle. More than you’ll ever know, she thinks. “Kinda. Yeah.”

“You…not really looking to talk to anyone else…?” asks Miles-65, not subtle at all. It makes Gwen want to laugh. Or cry. Or both. She’s not sure how to feel.

She shoves her hands in her pockets, and shakes the longer part of her hair out of her face. “I don’t do relationships. I don’t really… make friends. Not anymore.”

And it’s true. She travels across multiple dimensions, speaks to so many different people, but doesn’t really call many people her friends. Hobie and Pav don’t count- they’re more like siblings at the rate they stick to her, if anything. Not that she’s ever had siblings, but she listens to the way people in school and in HQ talk about them.

Besides, if she opens her heart and lets the drawbridge down, who knows what kind of things will hurt? She’s made that mistake twice. No way in hell is she doing that again.

“Hm… you didn’t say you don’t do acquaintances,” counters the boy. He grins and offers a hand out, and it’s so painfully nostalgic. She doesn't take it. “I’m Miles. What’s your name?”

“It’s… Gwanda.”

“Your name is Gwanda?”

This time Gwen laughs, and it feels just a little bit more real. “It’s South African. Don’t question it, okay?”

“Okay.”

Both kids start laughing. As if they’re just two normal teenage friends sharing a joke. It’s so weird yet so wonderful and Gwen wants it to last forever. At least until she hears the sirens.

“Shoot!” She hisses. “I need to go!”

“Go? Wait, Gwanda-,”

But she doesn’t wait. She takes off as fast as she can and prays the police car doesn’t find her. She’s not sure if Gwen Stacy has as much as a wanted sign to her face as Spider-Woman does.

However, the sirens keep blaring. Her heart hammers so loud in her chest, and all she can see is the road in front of her, and hear is the sound of those wails, and maybe someone calling her name-

“Follow me!” She hears a voice shout.

And suddenly, she’s grabbing onto the hand of Miles-65, who somehow pops out beside her. She has no time to even question anything anymore, and she follows his lead away from the police cars.

They run and run and run until they arrive at some abandoned warehouse.

“Man,” gasps Miles-65 as collapses first into the ground. “The hell did you do to get the po-po after you? You were running like crazy!”

“Long story,” grunts Gwen in response. “And you were running too!”

“I was running ‘cuz you were!”

“You didn’t have to- oh, forget it.” Gwen snaps as she takes in her surroundings. It looks like an old building with lots of junk and pieces of construction all over the place. “Where are we?”

“Old hideout of my uncle’s,” says Miles-65. “He and my dad, well… they used to get in trouble with the cops a lot too.”

“Aren’t they-,” Gwen stops herself in time. She doesn’t know if his uncle Aaron is the Prowler. No, this isn’t your Miles. “Uh, hopefully the cops stop. Pestering your uncle and dad, I mean.”

Miles-65 doesn’t respond. She watches as Miles-65 picks himself off the ground and brushes the dust off his jacket and his shoes.

“You wanna see something cool?” He asks instead. He jerks his head towards a set of stairs. “Nothing sus. Promise you that.”

“…sure?”

She follows him up a few flights of dusty concrete stairs. Eventually, he pushes a door open and they’re out into the abandoned building’s patio. It’s a pretty view, with golden sunset bathing the skyline of New York City.

To her surprise, Miles-65 suddenly sits down near the door, hitches both his legs up against the wall, and rests his head behind his arms.

“Um. What are you doing?” asks Gwen.

“Looking at the city upside down!” Miles-65 clarifies. “There’s something really different about it. You should try it.”

It’s a stupid idea, but only because Gwen has seen all kinds of New York Cities more than a thousand times from any angle. But she tries it anyway, and finds the horizon of New York City much more fascinating when it looks like they could only ever fall into earth from the vastness of the sky.

Upside down, both kids just sit there, taking in the view.

“I have to admit, it’s a nice view,” murmurs Gwen softly. She wonders if she can do this sometime, as Spider-Woman. Just hang upside down and watch the expanse where the earth and the sky barely touch.

“Yeah,” chuckles Miles-65. Sadness catches on the edge of his voice, but only barely. “It helps.”

“Helps?”

She sees as his eyes flicker towards her. “Yeah. Some days I just get so… angry. Or, I don’t know, mad crazy. Like I’m about to do dumb stuff. I just come here and stare at the city.”

Gwen nods silently at that. She thinks about all those days before she and her dad… well, before things fell apart. Flipping off buildings and running across skyscrapers probably were her only vices. If she doesn’t include loneliness, and also visiting multiverse versions of the only person she truly cares about.

“It’s easy, right?” says Miles-65 suddenly. “To do everything to run away from what scares us.”

Chills run up Gwen’s spine. She thinks of a lot of things- her Dad, her Miles, her Peter, her watch. She thinks of everything and everywhere in the universe falling apart, because of her. She thinks of canon events, and hates how, even with the ability to hold up falling building debris and to swing across cities at hundreds of miles per hour, she just feels so helpless.

She never admits it. Never tells a soul, not even to Hobie who watches over her like an older brother she never had.

And yet, she still admits, “Yes.”

Because Gwen knows she’s running. From her Dad. From Miles. From the canon. Meeting all these Miles variations… isn’t it just running away with extra steps?

She presses the palms of her hands into her face and inhales deeply. She feels so absolutely, utterly alone.

“You’re never really alone, you know?” states Miles-65, as if she spoke out loud.

“You don’t know that,” Gwen drags her hands down her face and releases the breath she’s holding. She remembers the warmth of Peter’s body against her hands, and constant voices that beat against her head. Whydidn’tyousavehimwhydidn’tyousavehimwhy- “You don’t know me.”

Miles-65 turns his head to look at her. “I don’t. You’re right. But I can tell when someone’s running away from things. Avoiding things. Like me.”

Gwen says nothing to that. Instead, she slides her legs down from the wall, pushes herself up on her feet, and walks towards the edge of the building. She leans over the railing, and buries her head halfway into her arms. All while listening to the sounds of Miles-65 sitting up and following her.

“I… miss him. A lot.”

She’s not sure why she says it out loud. Hell, Gwen isn’t even sure who she’s referring to anymore. Was it her Dad? Was it Peter? Was it Miles?

Miles-65 is silent for a while, but Gwen refuses to say more. What could she even say? Like, by the way, I’m part of a secret society of Spider-People, and I miss another world’s version of you? Or, I’m running away from him because he’s technically a mistake, and I know what its like to be called a mistake, and I don’t know how to help? Or even, I don’t even want to be here in this world because my only family doesn’t even love all of me.

“Yeah. I get that. Missing people sucks,” says Miles-65 quietly. He leans against the railing and stares up at the sky. “Loss is hard. Life is short. People have been saying it a lot these days. It’s all I’ve been hearing.”

“And why would they say that?”

“Because my dad’s sick. And my uncle is in jail.”

Yikes. Gwen cringes a little for asking. She knows how much her Miles loves his family. Heck, she even remembers their names: Uncle Aaron. Jefferson Davis. Rio Morales. She wonders how he’s even able to smile. “I’m so sorry, Miles.”

“Thanks.” The words come out professional. Robotic, almost. But more human, he adds, “We’ve come a long way, though. Dad’s chemo’s doing great now, and my uncle might get released earlier.”

“It must be hard,” says Gwen.

“Yeah. It is.”

Briefly, her thoughts wander to canon events. Gwen wonders if things are any better if Miles-65 was Spider-Man, and not her. At least, in this life, he still has his Dad and uncle, and doesn’t need fate to dictate exactly when he was going to lose them.

Well, it could be worse. He could be Gwen Stacy of Earth-65. Already doomed to a Spider-Man’s fate of losing everything and everyone, and having lost her Dad who’s still alive and breathing.

“So, this guy,” interjects Miles-65 suddenly. He faces her, hands collapsed over the railing as he grins. His smile is a sunflower against the concrete jungle of New York City. “If he’s such a hella guy, why you not visiting him?”

“It’s… complicated.”

“Ah. Like a feelings thing?”

“No! No. We’re just friends.”

“Ooookay. Friends.”

“We’re… not really talking,” murmurs Gwen. She looks down from the building and watches people and cars go about like little colorful ants. The ever darkening sky highlights the yellows and reds and brightness of the city below. “Not sure how to.”

“Not sure how to…?” Miles-65 prompts, his eyebrows wiggling.

“How to tell him… the truth.”

“Truth?”

How to tell him he’s an anomaly. Gwen’s thoughts race. How to tell him he’s going to lose someone he loves so much, just because fate says so. How to tell him I miss him. How to tell him I’m sorry I didn’t visit this whole time. How to tell him that so many people are dead because of us. How to tell him I’m sorry but I’m not going home. I’m too scared.

Instead, Gwen sighs and rubs her face, “I’d literally disappear than admit that to a stranger."

Oddly understanding, Miles-65 hums. “Well, as an objective person with no play in the game, I think you should try to talk to him. I’m sure you can work something out if you two are good friends, right? Homies always got each others’ backs!”

In melancholic fondness, she offers him a sad smile. “I don’t know, Miles. Nothing’s going to change.”

“Not with that attitude,” chides Miles-65, kindly. “You already surrender yourself to destiny and all that. And don’t give me that look! You’ve given up before you tried, yo. Like, you don’t know it won’t work.”

She recalls Hobie once describing himself as a Brit rebel version of Miles, and thinks it could be true. She thinks they’d like each other.

“I’m just saying you gotta be like Spider-Woman.”

Gwen stares at him, and echoes, “Spider-Woman.”

“Dude, yes!” Miles-65 nods so hard his curls bounce, and his grin grows from ear to ear. “She’s the bravest person out there in this world.”

The bravest person. He doesn’t call her a menace, or a murderer. He calls her brave.

“Why?” The scoff comes out of her.

“I don’t know, man,” argues Miles-65. His eyes shine, and she knows he means every word. “It’s just… all these people talk mad shit about her, but she still saves them. That’s crazy. I don’t know if I could do that. I wish I could save people. Or even just help them.”

“She didn’t save that boy.”

There’s more metal in her voice than she intends.

Blinking his eyes slowly, the boy in front of her takes a long pause. Then, he says, “But she tried. I believe she tried.”

Gwen looks up at the sky growing ever dark and wills her eyes not to burn. Yes, there’s canon events, but the reality is she’s not even sure if she believes him. But he has faith in her, pure and simple.

“So, I think we gotta try too,” continues Miles-65. He walks a few steps away from the ledge and throws his hands wide into the air. “I don’t want to follow destiny. I want to try, and have some faith in my own thing, y’know?”

He offers her a smile. And for once, Gwen genuinely smiles back.

“Miles,” She says. “Thank y-,”

Out of the blue, her watch beeps loudly as every hair on her neck stands on end. Black shadows creep into the edges of her vision, and she’s whispering shootshootshoot- Danger. They’re in terrible danger.

“Gwanda, look out!”

It’s the last thing she hears before she’s falling off the building.

—

Everything falls in slow motion.

She’s tossing the hoodie out and her mask on, and her muscles move with the memories of New York-65’s one and only Spider-Woman.

She grapples the shadow Prowler every second as she falls.

—

“You’re destined to fail, Spider-Woman!” snarls the Prowler as a pitch black hand tries to grab her throat. “You can’t win.”

She thinks of Miles Morales. Leaps of faith.

“Try me.”

—

After she sends the Prowler back to HQ, she finds Miles of Earth-65, but as Spider-Woman. She grabs him from the street and into a dark back alley, while the rest of city is going insane, asking about shadow criminals and the return public menace number one.

She knows she doesn’t have long. The police are on the way. She hears the sirens wail from miles away. She can’t stay.

“My friend,” chokes Miles-65. Tears stream down his cheeks. “Please. Her name is Gwanda. That shadow guy got her, and she fell off the building. Did you save my friend?”

“I…”

As Gwen stares into those brown eyes full of fear and despair, she knows just how she’s caught between a rock and hard place. This boy is a good boy, a kind boy, but this is not her Miles. He deserves to live life without her.

“I saved her, okay?” lies Gwen. She speaks as deeply as she can, pretending she is not Gwanda but some other being altogether. “She… told me she had to go back, though. She’s moving away, uh, tomorrow morning, but um, not sure where. But your friend Gwanda is safe and sound.”

He collapses into a relieved sigh. It kills her to watch this sweet, kind boy. It kills her to lie.

“And kid?”

Gwen leans down and pats him on the shoulder. “She says thank you. You’ve saved her life. In more ways than you’ll ever know. Now, do me a favor, and go live a happy and peaceful life, okay?”

She disappears before he can say anything else.

—🕸️ —

The trip home haunts her.

As Lyla and Jess congratulate her on surviving and a job well done, Gwen thinks of every Miles she’s ever met. She thinks of canon events, and of destiny.

In the back of her head, she thinks of a boy who, despite all odds, took a leap of faith. And she thinks of the boy just like him, who told her to try.

Wordlessly, she goes straight to Hobie’s couch, and is infinitely grateful when he just lets her be still.

—🕸️ —

“So remember the rules, kid,” repeats Jess. They stand in the middle of the “Follow the spotted anomaly, and make sure to track him down as quickly as possible. Reports say he’s moving fast.”

“Yes.”

“And whatever you do, don’t go near your little friend, got it?”

Gwen nods at her superior. She’s lying, and she doesn’t care. She knows when she hits Earth-1610, she knows exactly where she’s going to appear and who she's going to meet. It’s terrifying if she really thinks about it, so she doesn’t think about it.

When she hits the button on that watch, she’s so aware of the problems she’s going to unravel. But this time she’ll try her best to fix it.