Chapter Text
Miles' marks didn't show up until too late and at the least opportune time possible.
All his life he had grown up surrounded with the stories of what it meant to have a Soulmate and its importance, how they were going to be the only person in the whole world to understand him like no one else ever could; his dreams, ambitions, sorrows, pain and happiness.
Two sides of the same coin. Those had been his mom's words.
They come in different forms. They are popularly attributed to being romantic but, contrary to what most would believe, they rarely are.
Usually, it always ended up being a platonic Soulmate and Miles, personally, believes there is nothing more fascinating than that. After all, his Uncle Aaron and dad were soulmates.
Dad didn't often talk about it despite his insistence, and Miles stopped after his uncle passed away, but his Uncle Aaron, before everything, would tell him the stories: that they were inseparable and a wonderful in their youth, a relentless duo when both marks emerged on their wrists, brothers in both blood and soul.
Until, of course, circumstances led them down different paths and they drifted apart but never rejecting the bond, and Miles knows this well by how his uncle's mark continued to glow on his wrist in his final moments and dad's remained in place intact even after his death.
Miles thought that maybe he would be of that part of the population that never gets to have a Soulmate mark, and it really wasn't a problem, he understood perfectly well that it was a probability but it was still somewhat... disappointing? sad? lonely...? It was difficult to explain properly.
At thirteen, one would expect to already have a mark somewhere on his body, but that wasn't Miles' case.
Or so he thought, until the whole incident with the Collider, the death of his Peter, opening portals and saving his city.
In the dangerous hustle and bustle of those few days that felt like months, at some point his mark decided to appear, and Miles only realized it a couple of days later as he prepared to go back to school in front of the mirror.
At the spot between his shoulder and neck, rested a small but healthy and blooming sunflower, wrapped protectively and with utmost care by long, sharp petals of a bright red flower that to Miles at the time was unknown but its striking, bleeding red had been enough to captivate him.
Ganke would later inform him that the red flower was a Spider Lily. And Miles, for his part, decided to ignore the troubling meanings with which this flower was associated when he researched it on the internet.
Be that as it may, what was at first an explosion of emotions, a joy unmatched by any other, sooner rather than later turned into painful fear, anxiety and regret.
Would his other half accept him now as he is? Being Spiderman? First of all, could he even confess to them that he was Spiderman if he met them? What would they say? How would they feel? Miles would be selfishly putting them in danger, especially with how risky his job as a hero was, constantly putting his life on the line for the good of others.
He doesn't even know them, and he already fears for their judgment, the only thing he knows about them is that they are probably older than Miles due to the noticeable difference in the size of the flowers. That's the only thing he genuinely knows about them, and he already fears what a stranger might say about him.
That night Miles could not bring himself to sleep.
Tormented by the unstoppable train of thought, he kept holding the mark that seemed to taunt him from its place.
He then closed his eyes tightly and begged for some sympathy.
His mother told him that they would understand him, no matter what, and would be there for him to take care of him, see for his safety and guide him. So with a deep exhale, Miles stopped mentally dirtying his Soulmate's image with his fears and embraced himself.
No matter what, they will understand him just fine and accept him for who he is no matter what.
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When he reconnects with Gwen, the words seem to overflow from his mouth as there is so much to talk about and he tells her absolutely everything.
Miles tells her about how things went, the defeat of Kingpin, his night patrols as the new established Spider-Man, his powers he was finally learning to master: His Venom Blast, a name he proudly chose for himself; his swing, his bites, his claws, his speed and, his favorite power if he's honest, his invincibility.
She tells him about the spider society, the quarters at HQ, all the other Spider-Men she's met, her wonderful new mentor, all the missions she's been going on, but despite all the amazing wonders she tells him about in her last few months of discovering multiverses and traveling between dimensions, none of it rivals when she decides to talk about her not so long-ago discovered Soulmate.
She confesses to him that, just as it happened to Miles, at some point in her forced dimensional journey to his dimension her mark appeared, and it wasn't until she finally arrived home that she discovered it located on the upper part of her arm: an impressive guitar, full of decorations of all kinds of colors that even seemed to change from time to time, surrounded by light blue, pink and white ribbons. A combination of the brutal and the soft.
It's then that she tells him about Hobie, her blissful Soulmate whom she met in the said spider society, someone like her. She tells him without elaborating too much about the help he gave her and how the two of them had practically become siblings in everything but blood. Miles pretends to ignore the wave of relief that fills his mind at the last words.
He also decides to tell her about his mark, and is quick to agree to show her when Gwen insists on seeing it.
The moment he lowers the collar of his suit to show her the flowers painted on his shoulder, Gwen's gaze shines and seems to radiate stars as she marvels at the beautiful flower art on his body.
Almost by accident, Gwen immediately suggests that maybe his Soulmate, like hers, is out of his universe, even that they could be a Spider-Man like him.
And Miles can't help the new strong surge of emotions that come to him with that possibility.
For one part, it made his hopes of finding his Soulmate that more complicated. In the vast size of all the existing multiverses, and among the billions and billions of people that exist in each of them, one of them could be his destined one. He would have no possible way of finding them.
But, on the other side, if his destined one miraculously ended up also being a spider hero like him, the universe was definitely smiling on him and giving him some luck for the first time in his life.
So Miles forces himself to keep his hopes high until proven otherwise.
Gwen, however, has to leave, and Miles can't go with her.
He does what he can do best and decides to follow his instincts, which means sneaking up behind her as discreetly as he can. Internally he scolds himself for not having taken the whole thing with Spot more seriously when he had to, seeing now in front of him all the mess of papers, machines, tools and other things scattered all over the place that indicated that the guy was up to some very bad things.
He can already imagine the severe reprimand his mom and dad would give him if they found out what he was about to do and the months and months of punishment this would give him, but if he explained his motives maybe they would understand.
He needs to find his Soulmate, beyond meeting more individuals like him, Miles wants to first find the person the universe told him would be his other half. Maybe they would be someone like Ganke, a good friend and almost brother; or like his parents, a caring guide and protector with a paternal presence; or like his Uncle Aaron, someone always there to listen and understand him and never judge him.
Miles wants to meet them so badly that he doesn't hesitate too much before stepping through the portal.
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If his mind wasn't so clouded thinking about the chaos and abysmal danger that Spot now represented, he would definitely be as a small child admiring Hobie with fascination, understanding perfectly how it was possible that Gwen could talk about someone with such admiration. Boy did she pull out the lottery ticket.
They are slowly directed to the office of one Miguel he-don't-remember-what-else who, if asked, could use a little more light in his gloomily dark hallways.
Gwen seems focused on just arriving, but Hobie, constantly hovering over him wherever he could, continues to imply things in his words that Miles has a feeling he should pay more attention to, the man having proven to have a judgment of his own and measuring things with cautious wariness, knowing quickly how to act. He was someone with experience and someone Miles should definitely listen to.
But he stubbornly focuses on the fact that everything will be all right, he will convince the leader of this whole place to let him stay or spend even a few days to hang out with Gwen and the others and then leave, this, however, just an excuse to have enough time to hopefully find his destined one if they really were here too. He even brought him an empanada!
When they arrive at his more than curious and gigantic but also ridiculously dark office, Miles already has a sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue.
Instead, his body freezes and his heart seems to stop pumping blood.
Gwen is arguing with the man in front of them, the empanada snatched from his hands, but Miles can barely hear them, his eyes fixed on Miguel as the flowers on his shoulder seem to dance and bloom contentedly under the fabric of his suit.
He found them. He found his destined one. Miguel O'Hara, the leader of the spider society, is his Soulmate.
The words are out of his mouth before his brain processes them, a big, bright smile adorning his jovial face amidst so many overwhelming emotions, and his mouth is already spouting future plans, so many ideas, almost instinctively as if he wants to prove to Miguel that he will be useful, to show him that he is ready for things and has plans for it. That he will not be a burden.
But his words go no further, for only by a few centimeters and he can barely evade the trash can that is fiercely thrown in his direction.
Confused, startled, nervous, hurt, Miles turns quickly to look at the man, as if looking for some kind of justification or explanation for that reaction. Maybe it was an accident, or a joke, or Miles was talking too much and Miguel in his stress didn't really know how to shut him up.
What he finds is much worse. There's no recognition in Miguel's glowing red eyes. Only fury. Absolute, unbridled fury and hatred.
There is no way he can describe how his own soul is breaking so slowly and painfully, piece by piece, for every second that those eyes full of disgust continue to linger on him.
He has to make a strong effort to breathe, to stand, to not succumb to the ground beneath him.
It's a sentiment so similar to the same feeling he felt when his uncle Aaron's life was taken from him in front of his eyes.
All this time thinking about what a wonderful person his destined one would be. Of how much they would talk, how much they would share. The illusion of a lifelong platonic companion who would be there for Miles to lift him up.
That person had been obliterated from existence in a matter of seconds in front of his eyes and Miles could only watch helplessly.
He felt an arm wrap around his neck and could barely notice Hobie out of the corner of his eye, helping him stand and keeping his body from continuing to tremble, a look that screamed understanding radiating sadly in his eyes.
Miles made a more than superhuman effort not to sob in place and pretend to be okay.
Gwen discreetly shot them a confused look but Hobie quickly dismissed it.
Soon, Peter arrived with a little girl with orange curls swinging wherever her tiny hands could reach.
Soon, Miguel revealed to him the importance of the canons in each universe, how he himself interrupted one by stealing the identity of one of his alternate versions to live with his alternate’s soulmate who in that universe was the beloved daughter of his deceased alternate version, and Miles' heart ached again but this time for the little girl. He revealed the merciless future that lay ahead of his father and no one was going to do anything to try to foresee it even though time was on their side, forcing him to accept that he should fold his arms and sit on the floor, waiting for his father's imminent end.
Soon, a sharp red holographic prison surrounds Miles. The flowers on his body, for some reason, begin to burn him.
And at that moment he decides, still with his chest aching and furiously placing both palms against the red walls just as Hobie instructed, that fate can go to absolute hell.
If Miguel is going to so disgustedly reject the bond, then Miles is more than willing to do the exact same thing.
Not even he, let alone now, is going to stop him from saving his father.
And Miles flees.
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His body is for the time he-can't-remember-it-anymore slammed to the ground, and he barely accumulates enough strength to violently pull the heavy body off of him.
His hands are shaking and sweating and barely manage to stay attached to the surface of the train for long, and Miles needs to move fast, Miguel won't take a second to recover, so he decides to use as a desperate last resort his small claws to cling and climb the roof of the train.
His movements are a bit clumsy and it takes him a little while to detach his claws from the metal they were hooked on, but he manages to move fast enough to get a decent distance from the man.
The small feeling of victory is short-lived when Miguel's large and dangerous claws emerge from his fingers and he starts climbing with disturbing speed after Miles, and that sight will definitely give him future nightmares if he survives this encounter.
"Of course you have claws too!"
In the distance he could hear the pointless cries and pleas begging for the animal of Miguel to stop, to cease his inhuman pursuit.
Miles had to keep moving, he had to escape as soon as possible from there before the man utterly destroyed him. Time was running out, both for him and his father and he couldn't waste it any longer. To hell with all of this, he just needed to get home.
"You're not supposed to be Spider-Man!"
And isn't that painful? No matter how many times he thought he finally had his soul shattered into a thousand pieces in those few hours, the cruel human excuse of a man that haunted him seemed to find just the right words at every turn to tear him apart even more.
"You are a mistake!"
This definitely wasn't the way he would have imagined meeting his Soulmate would be.
His mind and body didn't have enough time to find a plan or escape route as a large clawed hand grabbed him and slammed him to the ground with an intensity a thousand times greater than the previous ones and Miles could feel the blood escape his mouth with a choked gasp.
Miguel spits venomous words at him but Miles refuses to hear them, desperately focusing on breaking free of his constricting grip, his breathing quickening more each time the man lifts him up a few inches only to slam him back down to the surface, slowly sinking his claws that are gradually releasing blood.
Miles tries to call out for help to anyone, whoever, but the words barely come out as strangled whines.
For a moment, he even thinks of his destined one, not Miguel, but the faceless person he thought was going to be his new world, his best friend, his family. The dreamy image he had made of them, just as kindergarteners do when you ask them to draw their parents and they draw them as heroes, holding the world on their shoulders and reaching for the stars.
Miles is again slammed against the train.
When his vision begins to be overtaken by tiny black dots that threaten to leave him in darkness, Miles struggles to wake up and contemplate his surroundings.
His ears then pick up painful confessions, and he wonders how the fuck his heart is still beating.
He can barely bend his crystallized gaze to see Gwen and Peter, silently begging them, pleading for them to say it's not true, that they didn't mean it, even to lie to him if necessary for god's sake.
Instead, looks of utter guilt and shame avert his.
This time, something impacts all over Miles' body and he coldly feels himself being ripped apart in half.
Miguel regains his attention with another painful blow, reminding him again and again and again that he's a mistake, an anomaly, that his very existence is already a threat to the universe itself and Miles knows the implications in that sentence.
With his limited energy he tries to continue looking for a way out and miraculously his mind finally comes up with one, but it's too late to act as Miguel’s claws are in a dangerous area and Miles unwillingly freezes.
Like daggers they stab without hesitation, and by the abrupt movement of the train, his shoulder and neck shredding the fabric of his suit that was beginning to expose holes that were becoming large enough to appreciate the damaged flowers that as much as Miles seemed to be victims of the physical abuse imposed in these hours.
When the claws actually pierced the skin over his petals, a broken and agonizing sob escaped Miles' lips, and the world around him seemed to stop.
This wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair. It was inhumanly cruel and he could hardly think how it was possible that someone this evil could be a Spider-Man and, much worse, be willingly followed by hundreds and hundreds of other Spidermen.
He knew he had to move, he had to run or it would be too late but this had been a boundary he had thought so far unbreakable. In response to this, all he could do was involuntarily cry, his chest rising and falling and the pent up tears finally bursting. His fangs tried to bite his lower lip in the futile attempt to cease his pitiful sobs.
He forced himself to try to calm down, imploring his erratic body to listen to him for just a second so he could get out of the situation alive.
His eyes unwillingly met Miguel's, almost quizzical at the other's sudden silence, and widened in surprise as they met an expression of realization and absolute, utter devastation.
Miles, however, felt disgust for himself when in the man's eyes he saw reflected his own eyes that were replaced by a bright red in place of his gentle honey ones.
The red that once brought him soothing peace and comfort now sickened him, his guts felt like they were revolting at the very sight of it.
Arriving home he would probably change and replace the red of his suit.
The hands, now clawless, that imprisoned him in place released him as if the mere approach burned them without any mercy. But as quickly as they moved away they came again, nervously, trembling over his body but without touching him.
Miguel's mouth opened and closed, the words unable to come out and when they did Miles wasn't aware enough of his surroundings or him to understand them. But the expression of complete regret somehow grew deeper and deeper with each passing second.
Desperate, as if he had no idea of what the fuck to do, a guttural sound so familiar and instinctive echoed from Miguel's chest, and the damaged flowers on Miles' chest felt warm and a small sound in response wanted to climb up Miles' throat, but he swallowed and forced it down.
He was sick of this shit.
Miguel seemed to persist, growing more and more frantic at Miles' willful lack of response, moving closer to him again and his hands reaching for his face.
It was at that moment that Miles finally took advantage of his distraction to use the Venom Blast built up in each palm of his hands and explode it against the man's chest, sending him flying yards away from him leaving Miles to finally feel the air hit his chest.
With great effort he pulled himself up using his webbing to help him. He looked down at Peter, then at Gwen. He didn't need words to make his message clear.
So with a broken heart, he let go of his support and fell to the void, his body fading into the vast emptiness.
He heard three voices call out his name, but only one instantly went after him.
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When he thought of Miguel as a freaking animal, he definitely hadn't done justice to how savage the bloody man could be.
The moment his claws buried their way through the portal against all possible logic and began to rip it open with a force he's sure ten Spidermen combined couldn't in the slightest match, Miles is sure it's absolute universal luck that he managed to escape alive. Perhaps a way for the universe to apologize to him for making a mistake with his destined one or that meeting them would be his death sentence.
The man, if he can still call whatever is in front of him a man, growls, snarls, claws, and does everything he can to desperately reach out to him. Miles takes several steps back, terror coursing through every fiber of his body, and looks for Margo.
He implores her with his eyes to help him, to do what it seems only Hobie was willing to do. To help him break so he can save his father and prove everyone here they're wrong
He knows it's a lot to ask, especially for someone he barely knows and has such an important position to risk it to save his miserable ass.
But a determination flares up like a flame behind her eyes and Miles feels his heart beating again.
Fuck all this. His destiny. His Soulmate. And partially the universe.
"NO!"
Miles is going home.