Consistency

Miles was very aware that he did not give Hobie a place to meet when he climbed up the fire escape to the roof of his building. He was in regular clothes - nothing too fancy - and a medical mask because he threw out his Spiderman suit. It was unsalvageable, and Spider-Man retired. He was waiting in silence for almost 10 minutes before his spider-sense went off. He turned as Spider-Punk landed on the roof. He pulls off his mask with a smirk. 

“Hey, Miles.”

“Hobie,” he returns. He almost thought he had dreamed up the other this morning. He was fighting tides of relief and fear, however, as Hobie walks over and sits beside him on the edge of the building. Hobie just sits down, looking out over the chaos of New York at night. 

“Place is a mess,” Hobie comments after a few long moments. 

“Yeah,” Miles agrees. Another silence stretches. Somewhere in the distance, a helicopter flies and an explosion sounds. Miles doesn't flinch, and Hobie swings his legs like he wants to go find out what happened. Miles takes a slow breath, settling into a sort of hesitant peace. Hobie keeps fidgeting, wanting to jump to action as another explosion goes off. 

Fifth Street Bank, if Miles had to guess, where his look-a-like and uncle were supposed to be working tonight. Rio had a shift at the hospital, which is why it was so easy for him to leave the apartment with no questions. He left a note in case the Prowlers finish early. 

“So,” Miles said. In the streets, three police cars scream past. Miles takes out his phone and texts Aaron about them.

“So,” Hobie returns. Another Helicopter flies overhead. Hobie twitches. “How do you live here? It's so loud.”

Miles frowns for a moment, before chuckling. “I tuned it out. After the first night, I could never sleep. I just… stopped paying attention to stuff like that.”

“You really retired?”

“I did.”

“How do you survive without being a spider man?”

“The same way I did before I was bitten,” Miles looks at him. Hobie was looking out at New York, face clouded with disbelief and pain from his spider-sense constantly going off. Miles looks away, almost ashamed to see him so vulnerable. “I was never special before, I don't need to be special now, you know?”

“You just turned it all off?”

“I did.”

“What about your uncle? Great power, great responsibility, all that.”

Miles shakes his head, “He didn't tell me that. He said I was the best of all of us. That I need to keep going.” He readies himself to shoot a web at a nearby building. “So I am.”

He leaps and shoots his web. Hobie joins him, asking, “By retiring?”

“Only way I could!” Miles shouts as they zip around Brooklyn. 

“People need you!”

“Not here, they don’t!” Miles dodges around the train, and Hobie catches up by running on top of it before swinging again. 

“Miles!” Hobie shouts.

“I thought you’d be proud of me,” Miles laughs as he takes a breath against a water tower. “That I'm not like everyone else, that I'm doing my own thing.” Hobie glares at him through his mask. 

“Not like this, Miles. Not when you could save people.” Hobie bodily flinches as three streets over, a car alarm wails. “Where's your suit?” he asks. Miles ignores the question and swings off, leaving Hobie to chase him. “Miles! You can’t ignore it forever!”

“I can try!” Miles spits back.

“Will you just slow down!” 

“Catch up!” Miles shoots back. 

“Miles!” Hobie shouts, doing his best to catch up. “Seriously?”

“What do you want from me, Hobie?” Miles stops again, back turned to Hobie. 

“Your universe…” Hobie says gently. “It needs you.”

“Doubt that,” Miles scoffed. “I was never supposed to be Spiderman, Hobie. That spider wasn't meant for  me.”

“But you were bitten!” Hobie tries. “To hell with canon, okay? People need you.”

“Nah, they don’t,” Miles scoffed. “Not here.”

“You need to go home.”

“No, I don't.”

“Miles, I'm not the only one looking. Gwen, Pav, Peter B, Penni, Noir, all of your old buddies.”

“Damn,” Miles scoffed, shaking his head. “Who sent you here?”

“Miles,” he tried to reach out, but Miles moved out of reach. He finally gets a look at his face. He was upset, face drawn in harsh lines of betrayal. Of fear and sorrow.

“My suit was torn to pieces,” he answers the earlier ignored question. He wraps his arms around himself. “Now, I answered your question. Answer mine.”

“Gwen. she was here just after you came, but couldn’t find you. She sent me to recheck.”

“Shit,” Miles chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Shit, shit, shit.” 

“Miles-”

“Shit!” he screamed, loud and clear off the building.

“Miles?” Hobie takes a tentative step forward. 

“Did you tell her?”

“What?”

“That I was here. Is that why you stayed at the coffee shop? Is that why your watch went off? Does she know?”

“Miles, she cares about you. She’s trying to help you.”

“Did. You. Tell. Gwen?” he asks, punctuating each word with a step forward. Hobie steps back, afraid of this change. 

“No.” he puts his hands up. 

“Good.” Miles spits before he takes off and leaps from the roof. When Hobie catches up, Miles is nowhere in sight.

–

He closes the next night, and two minutes before he gets to declare that the store is closed, Hobie walks in. Miles gives him little personal mind, telling him that the machines are closed for the night, that he was more than welcome to ask for anything, but that it may not be possible to make. 

“You used me for information,” Hobie declares. Miles blinks slowly at him, frowning. 

“Maybe, so?” Miles sets the rag on his shoulder on the counter and slips his apron off. He walks from behind the counter and flips the closed sign. He locks the door.

“Why?”

“I had to be certain,” Miles shrugs. “I have something here. Something nice.”

“Nice?” Hobie scoffed. “You watch a city burn every night and do nothing about it.”

“It’s a nice view,” Miles returns.

“Bullshit.”

“Maybe,” Miles returns. “But it's home, Hobie. Just like yours was.”

“But I helped. You’re just sitting on your hands! How can you say that you like what this city is? People are getting hurt!” 

“I tried!” Miles shouts. “I tried to help, Hobie. And I tried to be good. I tried to be like my uncle wanted, to make my parents proud. All I got was some shitty ass dreams,” he says. “I tried really hard to save her, okay?” he sneers, shaking his head. “So don’t you go lecturing me about helping people.”

“It’s… it's a part of the job, Miles,” Hobie says, though hesitant. 

“And you still don’t understand why I quit?”

“No. Because you loved being Spiderman!” Hobie accused. “I saw you, saving Pav’s universe. You looked so damn happy.”

“Things change.”

“That much?”

“Sometimes,” Miles offers. “People too.”

“Yeah, I see that.”

“Yet you came here, again. C’mon. I have to go.” Miles turns his back, shutting off the lights. Hobie follows him out the back door and sighs.

“Just give it a thought,” Hobie offers before he puts on his mask and swings off. Miles shakes his head.