Work Text:
Miles is no stranger to late night visits from friends. Time isn’t consistent from universe to universe and there have been more than a few times where he’s accidentally popped in on Gwen or Hobie at ungodly hours (the latter of which took it fine. Gwen’s dad? Not so much.) Even his parents begrudgingly accept it, exasperated looks on their faces when he emerges from his room with a friend that he didn’t come home with.
Needless to say, however, he’s not quite expecting to hear three loud knocks on his door at one in the morning while his Mami patches up his wounds from patrol.
“Uhh…” Miles says, looking up at his mom. “You expecting someone?”
“No,” Mami says, slowly rising to her feet. “Are you?”
“No,” Miles says, spidey sense screaming at him to open the door. Wincing, he slowly stands up and goes to the door, placing his hand on the handle, hesitantly swinging it open.
“Miles…?” Miles asks, blinking rapidly to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. The last time he saw Miles 42, they had not parted on good terms, blood dripping down his side from where the Prowler had gauged deep wounds. After his crash landing in Earth 42, Miles had made an effort to drop by every once in a while to help Miles 42 and Uncle Aaron where he could. If they weren’t on a mission, they would hang out, trading funny stories back and forth and bonding over what experiences they did share. It’s enough for Miles to develop a little bit of a crush on his counterpart, something he’ll take to his grave before ever admitting. He doesn’t even remember what they were arguing about that last time but he knows it got far too heated too quickly and one thing led to another. He hadn’t been back since then, not wanting to test the waters again. He figured that Miles 42 would eventually show up. Neither of them were one to let things go unanswered or unresolved.
But not like this. Not bloodied (was that a gunshot wound? It’s bleeding so much-) and bruised, so similar to the condition his uncle had been left in after Kingpin shot him. His heart beats frantically in his chest, a tightness in his throat that he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“I…” Miles 42 says, voice scratchy and hoarse, looking seconds away from losing consciousness. “I had nowhere else to go.”
“What… What happened?” Miles breathes, blood rushing in his ears. Miles 42's eyes flutter shut, body falling forward. He barely reacts in time to catch him, body protesting the impending adrenaline rush after a long day of being Spiderman.
“Ay! Don’t just stand there, mijo!” Rio says. “Bring him in!”
Miles blinks, shaking himself out of it. If his hands shake a little as he shifts Miles 42 to a more comfortable position, his Mami doesn’t comment on it. He attempts to pull Miles 42 inside but the strain on his own injuries are too much, radiating pain making him wince. “A little help, please.”
His friend's hands are cold to the touch, blood staining the shirt on his side. Of course the one time he had been injured by a Villain of the Week is the time he needed to carry someone inside his house. Together with Mami, they man handle him into the living room, setting him on the couch. Miles 42 is not in his Prowler gear, which begs the question as to how he got so injured in the first place. Surely he didn’t do a mission without his gear? In fact, the only thing he had was the watch gifted to him by Hobie when the Spider gang appeared on Earth 42 to collect him.
“Who is he?” Mami asks, methodically pulling the boy’s clothes away. “He looks like he could be your twin.”
“He’s me. From the other universe,” Miles responds, going to grab more supplies from the bathroom. “He’s the Prowler, there. They don’t have a spiderman to protect them. Remember when I told you and Dad about Miguel and how the spider that bit me wasn’t from our universe? It was actually from his.”
“Entiendo. How did he get here?”
“Hobie made him a watch when he helped out with Spot,” Miles says, returning. “But I never did tell him our universe number.”
“I see,” Mami says. “Help me with…”
“Got it,” Miles says, cleaning out the worst of the wounds. Surprisingly, Miles 42 isn’t in terrible shape like he first thought. A gash in his side, scratches on his arms and legs. It’s not a gunshot wound either, at least from a standard bullet. Earth 42’s villains had more advanced technology and very rarely relied on traditional weaponry. “No head wounds. And these aren’t that bad. Why did he pass out?”
“Drugs,” Mami says. “Or, if he’s anything like you, sleep deprivation. Your feeling factor slows down when you’re tired.”
“True,” Miles says. “But he doesn’t have a healing factor.”
“Then lack of rest. He doesn’t look like he’s gotten much of it,” Mami comments. “Miles, what are you…?”
“He came here injured. I don’t want him to wake up alone,” Miles says, looping Miles 42’s arm around his neck. “Help me get him to my room?”
“Of course,” Mami says. His injuries ache but he doesn’t allow himself to rest until Miles 42 is in his bed, positioned in a way that wouldn’t aggravate his injuries. “Do you need anything else?”
“No. Gracias, mami,” he says, sitting at the foot of the bed. “Get some rest.”
“I will. Call me if you need anything,” Mami says. Miles hums in affirmation, breathing a sigh of relief when Rio shuts the door quietly behind her.
Miles 42 looks so peaceful as he sleeps, one arm crossed over his stomach, breathing deeply and soundly. Every time Miles has been to Earth 42, he’s only ever seen his counterpart with a frown and hard look on his face, mission oriented to a fault. Every once and a while, he’d catch a glimpse of a smile or a smirk when he cracked a joke or Aaron spoke with them. For the most part, though, Miles 42 kept his emotions behind walls so tall Miles couldn’t even begin to look over them, much less try to find his way around them.
Miles pulls out his sketchbook, needing to do something with his hands to pass the time before Miles 42 woke up. Sparse as visits were, he has quite a few pieces of his counterpart, absolutely fascinated with the difference between them. His physique, his suit, how he holds himself, his choice of clothing… Despite having similar childhoods, one singular event made all the difference in their lives. Sometimes, he wonders what his life would have been like had he not been bitten by the radioactive spider. Would Miles 42 have turned into Spiderman? Or would Alchemax’s meddling caused both of them to end up as the Prowler?
“Spiderboy.”
Miles absolutely does not yelp as he looks up. “You’re awake. Are you alright?”
Miles 42 grimaces. “I’ve been worse. Sorry for just.”
“Nah man. It’s all good. How did you get here, though? I don’t remember telling you my universe number,”
“Your friend did. Hobie,” Miles 42 says. “When he gave me the goober.”
“You knew this entire time?”
“You didn’t?” Miles 42 snorts, rolling his shoulder before wincing.
“What happened?”
“Nothing that’s going to happen again,” Miles 42 says, corners of his lips drawn back. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You showed up on my doorstep bleeding out before you passed out! I think I get to worry about you just a little,” Miles says.
“And I said you don’t need to worry about it,” Miles 42 says.
“C’mon… I thought we were past the ‘tie me to a punching bag to interrogate me’ phase,” Miles jokes. “I promise I won’t interfere if you tell me.”
“Fat chance of that happening,” Miles 42 deadpans. “I know better.”
“... I promise I will try not to interfere, then,” Miles amends. “Seriously, who did you face? Scorpion? Kraven?”
“Neither,” Miles 42 responds. “Some goons got the jump on me and Tio. A few had goober prototypes and I followed one here and took him out.”
“Goober prototypes?” Miles echoes, filing that information away for later. “Are you sure-”
“I’m fine. We’re fine,” Miles 42 snaps, pushing himself into an upright position, face twitching with every movement. “Thank you for bandaging me up.”
“Where are you going?” Miles asks.
“Back home.”
“Not with those injuries, you’re not!”
“I don’t remember asking you,” Miles 42 says coldly, eyes flashing with danger.
“I didn’t just patch you up just for you to push yourself and get more injured. You can wait until the morning!”
“No. I can’t. I need to check up on Tio. Make sure he’s safe.”
“You’ll aggravate your injuries again. Trust me. It’s not worth the risk of re-injuring yourself when you can’t guarantee where you’ll land on the other side,” Miles says. “I’ve only done it when I had no other choice.”
“Could you say the same if it were your dad, bleeding out as you tried to escape? Where you had to split up? Could you really?” Miles 42 says, throat bobbing as he swallows. “I almost lost him. If I had been one second later, he would have died .”
“ Oh ,” Miles says.
“Yeah. Oh. Now let me go…”
There's a lot of things he wants to say. He knows the boy never recovered from what happened to his dad. Not completely. He knows that Miles 42 likes to deny he is affected by the events of the past, avoiding confrontation and redirecting conversations. He knows that Miles 42 has very few people he can rely on, something that's not entirely by choice. Before his counterpart can leave, Miles places a hand on his wrist, saying the first thing that comes to mind. “It’s not your fault, you know.”
Miles 42 turns his head, glaring at him, pulling his wrist back sharply. “Excuse me?”
“It’s not your fault. If you’re anything like me, you’re blaming yourself for letting him get injured, right?” Miles says. “I know you. Is he alright?”
“For now. I patched him up before I tracked the others down,” Miles 42 says. “Was sleeping on the couch last time I saw him.”
“Then there’s no harm in waiting a night to let yourself rest. Just one night. You… we can leave as soon as you get up later, if your wounds are better,” Miles says, linking their fingers together.
“It’s not over. It never is,” Miles 42 says. “The Sinister Six never rest.”
“I know,” Miles says, squeezing their hands. “But I’m here for you. So is Hobie. He wouldn’t go to the effort of making a watch just for anyone. I’ll go with you, just to have an extra set of eyes watching over him. I can get one of my friends to watch over mine while I’m there.”
“What about Mami? Wouldn’t she worry about you?”
“We’ve talked about it before. As long as I let her know where I’m going, what I’m doing, and for how long, she’s generally okay with it.”
“And Dad?”
“He’s lightened up a lot since I came back from defeating Spot. He’ll be fine.”
“But-”
“ Miles. Look at me,” Miles says, reaching up to grasp the sides of Miles 42’s face. His eyes are glistening with tears. If it wasn’t over such dire circumstances, Miles would find it beautiful. “You know I got your back, right? No matter what? I know I haven’t been the best about visiting but I’d like to think we’re at least friends. And I don’t turn my back on my friends.”
“But where have you been? I haven’t seen you for months. I know I wasn’t kind to you but-” Miles 42 bites his lip, looking away. “You left me alone. What was I supposed to think?”
Miles’ heart breaks, pulling Miles 42 into a hug. “I didn’t intend to. I’m sorry.”
Miles 42’s arms snake around his side, pulling their bodies flush against each other as his counterpart takes shaky breaths. It doesn’t take long for his shoulder to become damp, the grip around his waist tightening and tightening. Like Miles 42 was afraid he was going to disappear again. He hums quietly, resting his head on top of Miles 42’s. He keeps his breathing slow and steady, rubbing Miles 42’s trembling shoulders as he quietly sobs.
“I’ll tell Mami that I’ll be gone for a few days,” Miles whispers. “I’ll get one of the Peter’s or maybe Pavitir to watch over my world while I’m with you. If anyone decides to give you or Uncle Aaron any trouble, I’ll be there to help you."
“Mmm…”
“Do you think you’ll need anything from here? Extra supplies or…?”
“No,” Miles 42 says, voice cracking. “Just…. Don’t do that again. Leave like that.”
“I won’t,” Miles says, voice full of promise. “But you gotta let me in, man. You keep yourself at a distance and no matter how quickly I chase you, you always escape.”
“I don’t do friends. They always leave me,” Miles 42 says. “Not that I can afford to have many with what I do.”
“Which is why it’s good you have people who understand, then,” Miles says. “You’re welcome to any of the resources in Spider Society. Your universe is tethered to the Spiderverse.”
“Yeah, cause you were supposed to be me,” Miles 42 murmurs. “Do you… have anything I could sleep in?”
“Yeah, give me a second,” Miles says, letting go to briefly rummage through his drawers. He already misses the warmth of the embrace, picking out a clean pair of drawers. “You want a shirt or…?”
“Nah,” Miles 42 says. Miles pretends he doesn’t see Miles 42’s hand shake as he catches the article of clothing. “Wouldn’t want to bleed through it overnight.”
“You need help?” he asks.
“No. I can put on pants by myself,” Miles 42 snorts. “Never pegged you as a Hello Kitty fan.”
“It was a gift from Genke,” Miles says, waiting for the other boy to find a comfortable position on the bed. “You good?”
“Yeah,” Miles 42 says, patting the space next to him. “What are you waiting for? Get in?”
“Huh?”
“I just cried on your shoulder. I think we can sleep in the same bed together,” Miles 42 smirks. “Besides, you were so worried I was going to leave and make my injuries worse. What if I left after you fell asleep?”
“I know exactly what you’re trying to do and it’s not working,” Miles says, doing his best to keep a straight face.
“Is it working?”
“...”
“...”
“...”
“Well?”
“.... Fine,” Miles says, taking his place beside the other boy. He lays on his side, back facing towards Miles 42. An awkward tension hangs between them until Miles 42 speaks up.
“What? Don’t want to look at me?”
“No,” Miles denies, flipping over. “Happy now?”
“Yes,” Miles 42 says, leaning forward to kiss him lightly before burying his face in the crook of his shoulder. Miles freezes, blinking. “What. Cat got your tongue?”
“Uh…..”
“I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve seen the way you look at me."
“But it had to happen right now?” he asks, feeling his cheeks flush.
Miles 42 smirks against his shoulder, the ghost of lips against his bare skin. “Why not?”
“Ass,” he murmurs, placing a chaste kiss against Miles 42's head. “We're going to have to talk about this at some point."
"Yeah, Yeah," Miles 42 says, amused. "Good night."
"G'night," he responds, looping his right arm around Miles 42's, the other's rhythmic breaths lulling him into a light sleep.