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It was raining. The light pitter-patter of rain had continued since Miguel and Jess had gotten there, the building tops were soaked to the bone, puddles forming where there was a slight recess in the cement.
Miguel had taken the time to learn everything about you, in as short a time frame as possible, as you became quite a thorn in his side. He was running out of time, and you had to have a weakness that he could exploit.
You knew where those kids were, since they’d run off to some unknown dimension to plan. You had to know, maybe you were even the only one who knew, given that you had programmed the wristwatch on the fly, and held down the fort as they slipped into who knows where to destroy the multiverse.
Your feet splashed through puddles. There were footsteps behind you. It was hardly a chase. You weren’t trying hard enough to get away, and he wasn’t trying hard to catch you. Not yet. Not when he knew what he knew.
You came to a halt, there was nowhere else to go that didn’t require a defensive maneuver. You would have to cross paths with his claws if you wanted to get away from here.
“(Y/N)” he said, like he had a right to know who was under the mask, like he hadn't cheated to figure out who you were.
“Don’t call me that, I don’t know you.”
“Sure, you do” he said, earnestly. Then he slipped his mask off to reveal a familiar face.
Miguel.
That man was Miguel. At least, he was wearing his face. Some kind of carbon copy, pieces cobbled together into something that looked like a lover.
You pulled your mask up, into your hands, to get a better, unobscured look at him.
His hands rested on your shoulders, as he came to stand before you. He was looking at you like he knew you. Like you could know him. You could feel the heat off his skin. He was warm, like your Miguel, radiating heat that you could feel through your costume.
You resisted the urge to run into his arms, to wrap yourself around him. Call him home. He looked like home. A great imitation, until…
“That boy you helped, he’s an anomaly.”
“No,” He was a boy.
“He needs to be stopped before he hurts any more people,”
“You’re wrong, Miguel” Trying to save his father.
“He’s going to disrupt a canon event.”
“You're talking nonsense,” You knocked his hands off your shoulders. Took a step back. Then another. He followed, taking a step forward, then another.
“I’m trying to save everyone” he said. “I’m trying to save you.”
You turned your head, pulled your mask on, maybe it was to hide those tears. This was not the man you loved, no hero here. “I’d have given anything to save you and Gaby.” was your only response, “I’d have given everything.”
“People’s lives are at stake,”
“People’s lives are always at stake, Miguel, tomorrow is not promised, but we’re supposed to fight for that, I will always fight for that, for everyone.”
“(Y/N), my love, be realistic, please.”
You stomped into his space, finger in his face, “You wear his face, but you don’t know anything about my love, using his face to spit lies and sweet talk, you do him a disservice.”
“Love, I —”
You couldn’t bring yourself to hit him, not when his words were so sweet, like tooth-rotting candies giving you cavities that made your head and heart ache. “Never call me that again.” was nothing but a harsh whisper, no heat behind it, you couldn’t force yourself to yell. Your voice had practically given way, it hurt to speak to him, to think about him, to comprehend this anomaly.
“My love, (Y/N), listen to me, really listen to me, billions of lives are at stake, is one person worth all of that loss?” He cupped your face. You let him touch you: It made your skin crawl and sting, he could have brushed his thumb over your cheek, he could have slapped you.
He was wearing that face, but he was using it wrong. Words out of his mouth incorrect, how did they not taste like knives, like pulling teeth. Did he not feel his tongue atrophy at them, did it not turn his stomach sour and hot?
“Yes."