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Miles fell through the first portal, hard. He landed face first onto the rough, cold concrete of his apartment’s rooftop. He had no time to react before his nose cracked against it, warm, deep red liquid running down to his lip. But nothing was hurting. No pain, no agony, just a wrong, staticky feeling, that made his stomach clench with worry.
Slowly, he pushed himself up off the ground with one arm, using the other to wipe at his bloody nose. His fingers came away clean, as he scanned his surroundings. It looked like his Brooklyn, but it didn’t feel like it. The air was thick, the sky was dark and cloudy and wrong. His senses felt unsettled and unsure, his vision fuzzing weakly at the edges. But Miles had no time. He tried to run to the rooftop door, the one that led into his apartment building, but, for some reason, he couldn’t run. It almost felt like he was floating, and his legs were moving mid-air without going forward. It was excruciatingly slow. No matter how hard he tried, his legs weren’t cooperating. It felt like it was taking him so long to just move one foot after the other. The cold, gray, solid flooring beneath him was acting like glue against his feet. His bones shifted and ached dramatically, his head was pounding, and still, the door was so, so far away.
Miles felt a surge of urgency rush through him as he continued his attempt to reach the door. He didn’t remember why he needed to get to it so badly. Miles figured he might be concussed. He tried to continue his slow journey to his apartment, but his legs felt like jelly. His pulse pounded in his ears, until his knees shook violently and gave up. He crumpled down onto his hands and knees with his back bent over. Slowly, he began pulling himself up to sit on his lower legs, resting his palms against his thighs as he struggled to catch his breath. As soon as he stood back up again, he could see a difference. The buildings surrounding him were changing, the clouds grew darker, and the air seemed to thin more and more.
He eventually managed to push the door open, and went down into his apartment to look for someone. He didn’t even remember who yet, or why, but he knew it was for something important. He began to barge open the doors to every room, not stopping his searching for even a moment.
When he came back into the living room, slightly defeated, Miles suddenly heard a familiar shout coming from outside. He went towards the windows, and his eyes widened. His father. Miles watched as his father jumped out of his police car and ran towards one of the distorted buildings. The building looked all but stable, like it would fall at any given moment.
He tried to shout, “Dad, Stop!” But nothing came out. His voice was broken and small. But then, Miles saw it.
He saw a little girl, helpless and frozen in fear in front of the soon to be collapsing building. Miles watched his dad pick up the small girl as the building began to lose all structure, support beams starting to groan and crack. Miles sprinted towards his father, as gratefully, he could finally run again. He moved swiftly and with purpose, his eyes deadset on his father. He quickly slid out of the small window, and held out his wrist to shoot out a web until-
Miles felt a long pair of arms wrap around his torso tightly. He gasped, and immediately fought against the grip. His web fell flat as he writhed and squirmed to get out of the person's hold.
“Let me go,” His voice was no longer quiet and scratchy, “My dad- I need to get to my dad.” Miles squeezed his eyes shut.
The voice behind him was teasing, “It’s too late, Miles,” The Spot. “What’s done is done.”
Tears started to well up in his wide, frozen eyes, slipping down his cheeks. “No, no.” Miles’s voice cracked as he continued to struggle in the Spot’s tight hold.
“Open your eyes and see for yourself.” The Spot taunted into his ear, the words echoing through his mind.
Miles opened his eyes. Through blurry tears, he saw his father run to his cop car, cradling the little girl in his arms. The building wasn’t far behind him, and was collapsing in real time. Rubble began to fall around his father. Miles saw the panic on his fathers face when a large piece of concrete crashed down in front of him, breaking off into smaller chunks at the sides, blocking him in. He didn’t have enough time to go around it. Instead, Miles’s father closed his eyes, hugged the little girl close to his chest and disappeared into the falling rubble.
The weight of the building forcing itself down onto the ground made the unfocused ones around miles tremble. The windows shattered violently, leaving glass all across the roads. The sound of its impact made Miles flinch.
His dad was under there.
Suddenly, he felt the arms around him vanish, and as fast as he could, he sprinted forward towards the wreck of rubble and smoke. “Dad?! Dad…where-“ he clambered through a broken window frame, the inside of his ankle getting caught on the glass, but he barely noticed. He couldn’t see through the thick layers of dust trying to settle around him, and wafted his hand in front of his face weakly, trying to see past the dark, blocky shadows of nothing.
“Dad!” He yelled out again, his voice shaking. His throat was so tight, he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore, heart pounding inside his chest. And then he saw him.
As the dust began to clear, he could start to make out his fathers limp body, where his legs were crushed underneath a huge tile of concrete. His eyes were half open, just staring blankly at nothing. He could faintly recognise small glimpses of the little girl's hair through the cracks and gaps in the rubble. A sob tore through his chest, and he collapsed in front of the pile. His chest felt so tight, and his heart was pounding. He choked and gasped weakly, a hand reaching up to feel over his heart, as if he was trying to grab at it through his skin.
Suddenly, a dark hole appeared beneath him, and he fell through it, and into something else. A memory. He crashed into a moving train, right next to-
“You’re a mistake!” Miguel shouted, grabbing Miles by the shoulder with his clawed gloves, and slamming him down into the side of the train.
“If you hadn’t been bit, your Peter Parker would’ve lived! Instead he died, saving you.” He spoke harshly as Miles tried to escape his grip.
“He would’ve stopped the collider before it ever went off, Spot wouldn’t exist, and none of this would’ve happened.”
“Peter-“ Memory Miles tried to speak up towards Peter B below them, before getting pushed down flat on his back again, hard into the metal behind him, making him let out a weak yell.
Miles was stuck frozen watching it all play out again, his vision still fraying at the sides. The colours looked wrong. Everything about this, was wrong.
“And all this time, I have been the only one holding it all together.” Miguel snapped. Peter B spoke,
“Miguel, go easy on him!-“
“You don’t belong here. You never did.” He spat.
“Let- me go!-“ Memory Miles struggled, shoulders twisting away, and arms shoving weakly.
“Miguel that’s enough!” Gwen spoke up, catching Miles' attention for a moment, but they continued to yell over each other, and the memory wasn’t stopping.
“This isn’t what we talked about!” Peter B said beside Gwen as they were climbing towards where Miles was being held.
Miles froze in Miguel’s hold. “You talked about this?…”
“You knew?” He whispered weakly, looking directly at Gwen. “You all knew?!”
“I…I didn’t know- how to tell you.” She said guiltily, breaking eye contact and looking down.
It was as if Miles was feeling all the emotions he had felt then all over again, his heart sinking to his stomach. Gwen had betrayed him. Betrayed him for- for a place in the spider society. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t understand why this was happening again. He couldn’t catch his breath for a moment, because as quickly as before, another hole appeared from nothing, stealing him from the memory to take him to another one.
Now, Miles was staring at the thirteen year old version of him. He was surrounded by his friends, the ones who got stolen from their own dimensions by the collider. He was sprawled out on the floor, getting battered with questions. While everyone around him interrogated him, no one seemed to notice how overwhelmed he was.
Gwen towered over him, “Can you be strong?”
Peni stood on top of SP//dr, “Ruthless?”
“Disciplined?” Gwen jumped back in.
Miles watched the younger version of him stammer, “I don’t know, maybe?”
Peni squinted at him, "Psychic?"
“Show me some moxie, soldier” Noir grunted.
“Above all,” Gwen reached her hand out and pulled Miles off the ground, “No matter how many times you get hit,” Miles shut his eyes as he watched Gwen square up, “Can you get back up?”
Gwen stuck her foot out and kicked younger Miles in the chest. He fell down immediately, groaning. He panted and grunted but still got back up fast, only for Peter Porker to kick him again in the head.
Miles heard Noir in the distance, “Cause when a Spider-Man is on the floor…”
He struggled to get back up this time. Shaking as he found his footing again, Gwen kicked him again.
Noir was talking over him, “When you think you’ve given your all…”
“When you think you can’t keep going…” Gwen faded into the overlapping voices.
“Come on, Miles!”
Thirteen year old Miles was laying flat on his stomach on the cold tiled floor. His arms were propped above him, trying, fighting to pull himself up.
“Come on,”
“You can do this!”
“Guys, cool it.” Miles turned to see Peter B. frantically trying to stop it.
“Get up, Miles”
“Get up!” The voices faded into each other, Miles could hardly decipher who was talking to him anymore. He stood there watching the younger version of him struggle. He watched how no one helped him. Miles felt stuck, helpless.
Miles felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to directly gaze into blue eyes, “Come on, Miles,” Gwen shouted at him, “Get up!”
Miles startled awake, panting and gasping like there was no air in the room. He clutched at his chest, and used his legs to kick the covers off of him. His heart was pounding, his whole body was shaking, his vision blurry as his senses flared at him in pure panic. Still, he managed to lift himself up, and sit on the edge of his bed. In a daze, he brought his fingers back up to his nose, checking for blood that was no longer there. His t-shirt clung to his body with sweat and he sat there for a moment, chest heaving pathetically. He needed so desperately to calm down, but he couldn’t breathe. He stood up, his fingers shaking violently as he yanked open his bedside drawer to pull out his interdimensional watch. Miles had ended up accepting an invitation into the spider society after a reluctant apology from Miguel, a respected position on the force, a chance to help other dimensions, and above all, a foolproof way to see his friends whenever he wanted.
Miles didn’t have time to think, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to. He wanted to, but also needed to talk to Gwen. Shakily, Miles mindlessly punched in Gwen’s number. He knew it by heart. It rang for only a few seconds until-
“Miles?” Gwen’s voice spoke through the watch, her voice slightly rough as if she hadn’t spoken for a while. “Are you okay? Why are you up so late?”
All Miles could do was breathe erratically into the watch. He tried to speak, but it just came out in a weak, panicked sob.
“…Miles? What happened?” Gwen spoke up again, and he could hear the worry in her tone. “Are you safe? Where- where are you?”
“I can’t breathe-“ he choked out pathetically, sliding down the side of his bedroom wall, his knees coming up towards his chest.
Gwen was quiet for half of a second, and through his panic, he silently cursed himself for calling her in the first place. But then, “I’m on my way, okay? Hold on.” and the line went dead.
Miles’ breathing was starting to slow down, knowing that Gwen was on her way. He was still clutching his chest as it beat harshly through his ears. He slipped his hand under the neckline of his white t-shirt and slowly brushed his fingers over the rough deep scarring on his chest. He remembered the pain all too well. The way Miguel’s claws dug into his skin, the hot, searing, overstimulating pain that soared through his chest, the violent, furious stare from Miguel that haunted Miles for months to come. And above all, the knowledge that this was all avoidable. Surprisingly, Miles’s eyes were dry. He didn’t have any energy to cry, any energy to do anything, really. Instead, slowly, he got back up to get on his bed, laying down on his back as he started to stare up at the blank white ceiling. He felt so guilty for calling Gwen, knowing that he had already calmed down a lot more just from hearing her voice. But all he could do now was wait.
As soon as the call had ended, Gwen rushed to get herself ready to leave. Before Miles had called, she had been in bed, mindlessly blasting TV Girl’s, Daughter of a Cop through her headphones, with her mind finally empty. Now, she was hopelessly smoothing out her band t-shirt with her sweaty palms. The thought of Miles having a panic attack made her heart clench. She stepped messily into a pair of wrinkled sweatpants and ran her unsteady fingers through her hair. Rushing to get her essentials, she grabbed her bag swiftly and tried her best to look less… chaotic. She caught a glimpse of her completely disheveled look in her mirror. At this moment, she also realized that she didn’t have any shoes on, and that they were out in the hallway. Gwen sighed, taking a short moment to breathe before she twisted her door handle, and carefully opened her bedroom door.
The floor beneath her creaked slowly as she stepped into the living room. Gwen could see her dad sitting on the couch with the back of his head turned towards her. His head was tucked tightly in his elbow, which rested on the armrest of the couch. Gwen’s mouth turned slightly upwards at the sight, and she continued to walk through her living room. The television hummed lowly in the background, Gwen could hear her father breathe quietly. She walked swiftly to her front door and stopped at the rack of shoes next to it. She leant down and picked up the first pair of shoes she saw, which happened to be her beat up teal converse. She sat down on the chair beside the shoe rack and promptly slid on her shoes, not bothering to tie the laces correctly. Gwen looked at her shoes for a brief second before snapping back into focus and frantically tapping her watch until-
“Gwen?” Her fathers voice croaked from the couch. She turned around to face her dad. He didn’t look like he’d been sleeping.
“Gwen, where are you going?” Her father was sitting up straight now. He sounded bothered and… worried?
“I’m…” Gwen paused for a second, “I need to see my friend.”
George started cautiously, “Gwen I thought you’d start telling me before you leave the house,” He dragged a lazy hand over his face, “Let alone to go to… a whole other dimension.”
Gwen winced guiltily. Things have been… iffy with her father since she’d gotten back. He apologized, yes. They made up, sort of. But still, Gwen was a little apprehensive with her father, which was warranted.
She turned back around, catching one final glimpse of her fathers disappointed face and finished punching Miles's dimension number into her watch. As the portal opened in front of her, she twisted her head slightly, “I know, I’m sorry. I’ll be back.”
Slowly, Gwen slid open the window to Miles’ bedroom, climbing into Miles' room hesitantly. There was a pile of clothes on the floor, scattered coloring pencils, and a basketball that sat out of place in the middle of his room. Gwen smiled softly for a moment. It was messy and cluttered, but it was him. She peered over at the twin sized bed that stood in the corner of the room. Under the soft, blue plaid printed comforter that laid messily on top of the bed, there was an undisguisable Miles shaped lump that remained unmoving and facing the ceiling.
“Miles?…”
No reply.
Gwen stepped further into the room. The walls were covered in posters, most of them were album covers, others were logos and random street signs. The gaps between were filled with messy sketches, drawings, and paintings. On her left, there was a stand-up desk which held Miles’ latest artwork, along with a few colored markers. To her right, there was a bookshelf that held comics, figurines, old sketchbooks, old school books, records and CDs, and way more that Gwen couldn’t quite decipher in the dark. She checked her watch, which read 11:38 pm. She wasn’t surprised at this, paying little to no attention to it. Instead, at this moment, she realizes how little time she’s spent in Miles’ room. They hang out pretty often, usually with the whole group. But sometimes, and a lot more recently now, Gwen finds herself on top of a building, sitting next to Miles and swinging her feet rhythmically while Miles tells her about his day. Gwen cherishes these moments so, so much. But she realizes now that they hadn’t spent much time in his dimension. It was usually her dimension, or Hobie’s, Pavitr’s, or even Nueva York. Never Miles’.
Gwen continued her slow approach to Miles’ bed. The drawer of his bedside table was ajar, a few blankets and a pillow were laying near the foot of his bed. When Gwen got close enough to see Miles clearly, she noticed that he still laid there motionless, his hair peaking from under the covers. Instinctively, Gwen reached out her hand to shake him gently, but Miles caught her hand abruptly before it could reach him.
“I’m awake.” He spoke up quietly, sounding exhausted. Gwen’s heart broke at the sound. He slowly pushed himself up, resting his back up against the bed frame, before running a tired, calloused hand over his face. He sat there for a moment, his face in his hands, breathing so shallow that Gwen could barely hear it. She was switching her weight from foot to foot, nervous and awkward.
Miles turned to face her and looked deep into her eyes. Gwen noticed the bags under his eyes, the redness inside of them, and the dried up tear stains that had run down his cheeks. His entire face was turned downwards, his hair was moved in different directions and his shirt seemed to be backwards, the tag sticking up out of his neckline, to scratch weakly at his throat. She watched as he started to stare deep into her eyes, before signing and silently moving over on his bed, patting the newly empty space for Gwen to sit down. She sat down immediately. Next to her, Miles sat anxiously. His legs were sprawled out long under the covers, and his back hunched over slightly, with one of his elbows on his upper thigh carrying the weight of his head in his left hand. His other arm remained empty and open, which Gwen slid her hand into. Miles let her do this, and it made his fingers twitch ever so slightly. Although, he made no complete effort to close his fingers around hers.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” She uttered, her voice only slightly above a whisper. Her eyes remained on his gazing ones, almost desperate for him to look back and pretend that nothing was wrong.
“I just…” Miles paused, his face twisting into a frown, “I don’t know why you did this.” He was staring into his covers, still avoiding eye contact.
Gwen blinked, and swallowed, guilt clouding her mind with overplayed memories. She hoped he wasn’t talking about what she thought he was.
“What do you mean?”
Miles breathed out and shut his eyes briefly, “Why, Gwen.” His hand shook in Gwen’s as he turned to face her, “Why did you join them?”
Gwen’s heart panged, “Please, Miles, you don’t understand-”
“Then help me understand,” His voice was raised, “Help me understand why you chased after me, and why you lied to me about everything! Why would you all lied to me?!” He tried harshly, finally turning to look her in the eyes once more. For a split second, Gwen opened her mouth in an attempt to say something, then immediately faltered.
“Please, Gwen,” Miles sounded desperate and it struck Gwen somewhere deep, “Just tell me why. What excuse do you have?”
Gwen remained silent for a few more beats. Miles squeezed her hand, “You had all these chances to see me, but instead you listened to… him?” Gwen felt nauseous, noting how he refused to say Miguel’s name out loud. Miles continued, “Gwen, you were willing to let my father die. Both of our fathers die. You have to tell me why,” Miles’ voice harshened and Gwen looked away, avoiding his eyes. “Why did you leave me alone? Why didn’t you help me, why did you hurt me?”
“I-I didn’t have a choice-”
“Yes you did!” Miles snapped back harshly, moving his hand to slip away from hers.
He took a breath, and sighed, “…There’s always a choice.”
“My father- is alive! Alive!” Miles shouted frantically, “I had a choice, and I made the right call, and it saved his life.”
Gwen shook her head, “Please, Miles, not tonight.”
Miles scoffed, “No, no,” He pulled a face, “That’s not fair. You hurt me. I would’ve never done this to you, I would’ve stuck by you, no matter what.”
Gwen was still looking down at his bedsheets, not wanting to face him again.
“You chose to stay with them, you did that.” Gwen suddenly peered at him in a state of shock, “You could’ve left, you could’ve-”
“My dad thought I murdered my best friend.” Gwen sputtered out quickly.
Miles stopped speaking, and there was a long pause.
She finally met his gaze, and his eyes were wide and unmoving. “I revealed my identity to him in the moment,” her voice wavered.
“And he responded with a gun pointed at my face.”
“…I had nowhere else to go when Jess and Miguel took me in. I was in a whole new place, I had no understanding of anything. I was shown so many things I hadn’t known before,” Gwen breathed, “They showed me predictions of- of horrible things, including watching myself die.” Miles took a quick, sharp, and quiet inhale of breath.
Gwen continued again, intoned, “When I came to see you, I knew that- I thought that being around you meant I was destined to die young.” Miles had his eyes on her attentively like if he looked away, she’d disappear. Gwen swallowed before speaking again, “And I’d risk it all again just to see you, even only for a minute.”
Gwen stared into the watery brown eyes in front of her, “I was terrified, Miles. I was stuck, I was alone- and I didn’t think I had a choice,” Gwen carefully moved her hand to cup the side of Miles’ jaw, her thumb rubbing underneath his eye ever so slightly. “You showed me that I have a choice. And for that, I’ll always love you.”
There was a beat of silence. Miles trembled, processing what Gwen just told him. Gwen refused to lose his gaze.
“Gwen, I…” Miles searched for his words, “I didn’t know.”
Despite it all, Gwen smiled softly, “Well, I never told you. I’m sorry.”
Miles blinked, “No it’s…” He stuttered into a laugh, “It’s fine, it’ll all be fine.” His voice was raspy and watery but bright. It filled the room in a way that made Gwen chuckle involuntarily before she even realized. They stared at each other fondly for a bit longer until Gwen struggled to conceal a yawn.
Miles mouthed down his fears, “Did you want to… stay over?”
Gwen gaped at him before Miles spoke again, “I mean, no pressure. You don’t have to, it’s your choice, of course. I just-” Suddenly, Gwen tugged him into a hug that sent them tumbling down onto the mattress. Miles was laid flat on his back as Gwen curled into his side, grasping him tightly. The covers were spread messily on top of them. His head was halfway on his pillow, while Gwen rested her head in the nook of his shoulder. Miles just laid there for a second, stunned. After a short beat, Miles reciprocated, wrapping his arms around Gwen.
Miles whispered into her ear, “Goodnight, Gwen.”
On Earth-138, Hobie groaned dramatically into his hands, trying to get Pav’s attention. He was currently laid on his bed inside of his canal boat, whilst Pav sat on the sofa across from him, focusing hard as he tried to perfect his drawing for Gayatri’s soon to be birthday.
Hobie’s idea didn’t work. “Pav.” He said quietly, waiting for a response. He heard a sigh. “…Yes Hobie?” Pavitr responded sarcastically.
“…I’m bored. You’re boring me.” He spoke, grabbing his interdimensional watch from the cupboard next to him as Pav continued to talk, “I have to finish this for Gayatri! It needs to be perfect, and her birthday is so soon!-"
“It’s in 2 weeks!” Hobie reminded him loudly, as he shoved himself up with his legs to come and sit next to Pavitr, looking at the drawing himself. He kept his watch in hand, fiddling with the buttons.
“Two whole weeks. You don't need to perfect anything, and especially not tonight.”
“Can you not entertain yourself for five minutes?! I’m almost done!” Pav shouted with no real heat behind it.
Hobie paused, then squinted, “…Are you taking the mick?”
Pavitr scoffed, “I still don’t know what that means!”
“It means you’re boring!” He snatched Pav’s pencil away, and lobbed it to the other side of the boat.
“Hey!-“ Pav was about to stand up to get it, but Hobie grabbed his shoulders and stopped him.
“Mate, I’m literally going to die of boredom.” He deadpanned.
Pav frowned, “…Don’t you have other friends?” Hobie’s jaw fell open, and he scoffed with a grin, shoving Pav away weakly.
“Oi! Fine! Even though I invited you here, fine. I’m gonna be nosy and check everyone else’s locations, alright? You won,” He lowered his voice.
“…bellend.”
“What?!” Pav shouted in shock.
Hobie grinned, “Nothing!”
Pav rolled his eyes with hints of sarcasm, and as he went to retrieve his pencil, Hobie began to look through his watch, and check where everyone was. It wasn’t a secret that boredom was not the only reason for this, as he liked to know when all of his friends were home safe.
He hadn’t checked on Miles for a while now, he realised, as he pulled up Miles’ watch location. His eyes scanned the hologram, and, of course, it said home. Miles was just at his apartment. He then went on to check Gwen, which said…the same, Miles’ apartment. He frowned, looking closer. Maybe his watch messed up? He did build it himself, after all. “…Pav can I borrow your watch for a second?” He spoke up.
Pavitr threw it over without a second thought, still analysing his own drawing. “What did you want it for?” He answered, without looking over.
“…I think mine’s had it again. Cheers.” Hobie caught it effortlessly, and punched in Gwen's location once more.
“I told you that you should’ve kept the one Miguel gave you!” Pav shrugged.
“Yeah, yeah.” He said, before pausing. Pavitr’s watch said the same thing.
“Pav. Gwen’s over at Miles’ place.”
This got Pav’s attention, and he almost immediately looked up at Hobie, gasping with wide eyes. “What?! Really?” Hobie didn’t answer, only chucked the watch back at Pav, which he scrambled to catch and look at.
Whilst Pavitr started to ramble about the two of them, Hobie started thinking, and had an idea. “…Should we go see them?”
As they dropped down on the window ledge, Hobie harshly tapped his finger on the window to Miles’ bedroom. “Oiii! Let us in, yeah?!” He spoke loudly, his hands coming up to the cold glass to block out the reflections, pushing his forehead against it to look in. He could faintly make out Miles and Gwen, clearly deeply asleep next to each other. Hobie hesitated. “Mate- look at this,“ he said, suddenly a lot quieter, grabbing Pavitr’s shoulder and moving him forward as he moved out of the way to let him see.
Pav put a reluctant hand over on the glass, squinting to see better, “What? Hey, don’t!-…oh my god! It’s happening!” He murmured giddily.
“Should we leave it today?…Come back when they’re awake? I don’t wanna barge in like this.” Hobie whispered.
Pav moved his head away from the window to look at Hobie, and began nodding in agreement, before quietly speaking, “Yeah, we can find something else to do.”
Pav swung away first, giggling. Hobie watched as he opened a portal in the nearest alleyway and walked in. Hobie on the other hand, stood there for a minute longer staring at the pair. Miles was flat on his back, one of his arms rested under his head, the other was wrapped around Gwen. His mouth was open slightly, and he looked utterly peaceful. Gwen, who was curled into Miles’ side, rested on Miles’ shoulder with her face buried in it. Hobie couldn’t control his grin as he finally swung off.