The can rolls mockingly easily across the dingy floor boards, kicked by his sturdy boots.
Empty.
Shit.
Just what he needed. Hobie stoops down, swiping the offending can up and flinging it against the wall, the weight of the light tin can is enough to shake the run down walls of the shitty old flat he’s found himself in. It’s sure to be knocked down in a week or less by Oscorp, always looking to destroy a perfectly good building rather than just simply fix it up, but for now it’s home.
His week had started off shit with him getting kicked out of his mates flat that he had been crashing at lately, left without a place to sleep. He couldn’t blame the guy, resources were tight and a place to sleep at night is something fought over for in his shitty autocratic world. His week seemed determined on continuing this way as well, with miscellaneous small cuts and bruises that littered his body and seemed to be healing slower than usual taking a greater toll on him than he’d like to admit - surely a result of the absolute shitshow of a week he’s had so far. The lack of food he’s been getting across his plate lately has probably also contributed to that, not something he’d like to admit either.
It was embarrassing, really, when Gwen crashed at his for a bit. He had to scrounge up all the money he could just to keep them both fed and under a roof. It was shameful. He saw the way Gwen looked around his small shitty flat that he had at the time, she never said anything, bless her soul, when she went to grab plates for them both one time and found that he only owned two anyway, or when she went to make tea for the both of them but could only make one cup. But she didn’t need to say anything for him to know how embarrassing his flat was. How he couldn’t hold a place for long enough for it to count as more than a place to rest.
It wasn’t long after she went back home, actually, that it started going to shit.
They had saved the multiverse, or Spiderverse, or whatever Miguel called it these days (he had bigger things to worry about than that), stopped the Spot, all crashed at Miles’ flat for a night or two, then returned. Found his place, and what little he owned within it, either stolen or destroyed. Kicked out a few days later for being too behind on rent, surely a result of having two mouths to feed when Gwen had stayed over. Crashed on the street for a couple days before having to give in, the past couple days of non-stop fighting and worrying about the Spot had made him weaker, eventually calling up an old mate and crashing at his for a bit. And now he’s found himself in this shitty flat that can hardly even really be called that. Sections of the walls were missing, replaced simply with sheets of blue tarp that blew loudly in the wind of New York, doing little to stop the iconic frigid air of his universe from entering. The floorboards creak loudly, no matter how he walks, and stick up in certain places with nails jutting out dangerously, trying to snag on something.
It’s enough for him, he can make do, he’ll make this work for the few days he’ll get before it’s knocked down and he’ll find another place after that. It’s what he’s always done, he just hopes all Gwens stuff with her father goes well and she doesn’t need a place to crash again, or that none of his recently found friends have an interest in seeing his messed up universe.
It’s odd, really, this new increase in friends, he’s not yet used to having to continuously check his watch to see if they’ve messaged him again.
Shortly after he was kicked out of his flat, they had messaged him and he, still attempting to adjust to the streets after everything, hadn’t seen the message for a couple of days. It was only really when he crashed at his mates for a bit that he checked his watch to see them freaking out, thinking something had happened to him. He’s pretty sure that if he hadn’t happened to check his messages that day, they would’ve come to his stupid fascist world to check on him. They would’ve seen the state of his sorry world, and the state of his living situation or lack thereof. He tries to keep on top of his messages, tries to keep them from worrying about it and coming to his world, but it’s still so new and so unnatural.
Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he drops himself down on the old floorboards next to where the can had landed, he picks the can up, studying it with annoyance, the lack of food had seemed to really be getting to him more than usual. His body had gotten used to a more consistent diet from when Gwen was over and now seemed to be having trouble going back to the usual. With a sigh he lets the can fall back to the ground with an empty sounding clatter and decides to check his watch, to his surprise (it really shouldn’t be surprising, he hasn’t checked in a day or two) there were messages from Gwen.
‘Hey Hobie come hang out with us at Miles’ tomorrow! We were gonna hang out on the roof’
‘Hobart respond!’
‘Hobieee!!’
‘Bro check your watch for once!’
‘Hobie we’re hanging out today, are you coming??’
‘Hobart Brown we’re literally on the roof right now, check your damn messages’ 20 minutes ago
His eyes widen in surprise and he pushes himself off the floor, hurriedly setting his watch to 1610, 20 minutes isn’t too late.
He looks around the shitty flat one last time, as if he had any belongings other than the ones on his back, as if this was more than a room to him, and steps through the choppy portal that crackled in front of him.
Landing fairly smoothly onto the roof of Miles’ apartment, he sets an apologetic grin on his face. “Hey Hey!” He claps his hands together, announcing that he was here as though the portal ripping through space and time wasn’t a big enough signal. He glances around the roof to find Gwen, Pavitr, and Miles all sitting together, laughing their asses off about something. Gwen quickly spins around and bounds over to him, landing a friendly punch on his shoulder, to which he dramatically grabbed, gasping in fake pain, both of them grinning. “Nice of you to finally show up!” He can’t help but feel a tinge guilty at her teasing, but grins back easily
“I couldn’t be too early, I’ve got a reputation to uphold!”
She grins at him before leading him back to the other two. She looks well though, things must’ve gone smoothly with her dad, he hopes.
“Pav! Miles! How’s it hangin’?” He claps them both on the back before sitting himself down between the two of them, Pav grins at him as Gwen sits back down, completing the circle.
“Miles was just telling me about other Miles, glad you could make it!”
Miles nods in agreement
“Yeah man he’s great, I think you two would really get along.”
42 Miles. Man, what a guy. Hobie had no idea what to think of him, sure he didn’t make a great first impression, but he did eventually side with them... He’s more of a ‘shoot first and ask questions later’ type of guy, which is what all the coppers in his own world are. But… Maybe their worlds are different.
“Yeah, maybe we would..”
Hobie responds contemplatively, being deep in thought as an awkward silence settles over the group for a moment, broken effortlessly by Pav.
“Hobie, my guy, what’s new with you? We haven’t seen you in forever!” Pavitr leans forward with enthusiasm, catching Hobie’s attention easily, who hums in response.
Thinking back over what’s happened for him since The Spot, there’s not much he can tell them. “Eh, you know how it is, catching up on all the crime I missed, taking down the regime, all that fun stuff”
“How’s the apartment?” Gwen asks him curiously
“Oh, well… Think some buggers snagged some shit while I was away, but it’s all in one piece at the end of the day”
He shrugs casually only to see the pitying expressions on his mates faces’ while Gwen responds in a worried tone “Hobie, that's terrible! Can we help you? We can buy you new stuff!” The others nod in agreement.
He juts his chin out, instantly opposed to the idea of him needing help, he can handle himself. A few things missing is nothing, he’d be having no troubles if that’s all that he was dealing with anyway.
“Nah Wendy, I’m steady.”
Gwen frowns a little at him and looking as though she’s going to say something else, he speaks before she can. He does not need this group knowing how embarrassing it is that he can’t pay for his own shit. “So, Wendy, how’d things go with that father of yours?”
He knows it’s petty for him to bring up something that could potentially be quite sensitive for her, but he had to think quickly, it’s bad enough that she knows about his living situation issues, he doesn’t need Miles and Pav knowing too.
Luckily she lights up instead “Yeah, pretty great! Awkward at first but it’s all good now.” Hobie nods, glad that he was right about that.
“Glad to hear that Gwendy”
She grins cheekily at him, a thought seeming to have occurred to her.
“Hey, maybe you could crash at mine some time!”
He instantly snorts at the idea but doesn’t respond. Him crashing at Gwens?
Could he, if it really comes down to it, could he really do that?
It doesn’t matter anyway, he tells himself. She was joking and he doesn’t need the help.
The group glance around at each other while Hobie seems deep in thought, again, before Pavitr claps his hands together and speaks enthusiastically.
“Anyways! Miles’ parents are out! He said we can totally throw on some films and crash at his! Isn’t that right Miles?” Pav draws the group's attention to Miles who grins and gestures to the door on the roof that leads to his flat.
“Yeah man, it’s starting to get dark now if we wanna head inside?”
“Sounds good” Hobie shrugs and pushes himself up off the ground, the rest of the group following his lead as they make their way to the door and into the safehaven that is Miles’ apartment.