Consistency

Milo was the last one home that night. Aaron and Miles were talking in low voices on the couch while Rio was showering off her shift. 

“Hey, Milo,” Aaron greets with a smile. Milo gives a thin one back. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he says, plopping himself down in the armchair. Miles pauses the show, looking at him with a frown. 

“Anything to do with that guy you were with last night?” he asks.

“Nah. Not really. He was just asking why I wasn’t Spiderman anymore.”

“Oh,” Aaron frowned too. “Shit, kid.”

“Yeah,” Milo tugged his legs under him and shrugged. “He’s backed off, don’t worry about it.”

“You sure?” Miles asked, not quite looking at Milo. 

“I’m sure,” Milo agrees. “What was dinner?”

“Leftovers,” Miles says. “Some still for ya.”

“Ate already,” Milo shrugged. “Leftover sandwiches from the shop.” That seemed to be a good enough answer and they turned back to the TV. Milo was tired as all hell and found himself drifting off in his chair.

-

The air was muggy and dank. Rot, trash, rain, and ruin made up the smell. Miles was overwhelmed by it, by the screech and draw of his spider-sense. His uncle was alive in this universe, he’s the prowler here. His dad is dead. A girl screams, and Miles leaps from the roof before her. The four men were all bigger than him, meaner with a stench of alcohol and smoke. Two had knives. He lowered his stance some and mentioned softly to the girl to get out of there. 

His entire everything ached, but he can help her. He can still fight them off. The first lunged, and Miles overstepped, knocking himself into the man's side with enough force that both went down. He springs back around, shooting a web and tripping another man. The first had cracked his head on the edge of the dumpster, flailed weakly. Miles steps around him as the fourth man shoots forward. Miles gets distracted by his spider-sense, and the man pushes him unforgivingly into the wall. His face gets scraped up, and a knife drags cruelly down the back of his stolen shorts and then through his suit and boxers.

“You lost us our meal. Looks like you're it for dinner,” he laughs darkly. A thin dribble of blood slid down his injured shoulder - the fighting had re-aggravated that injury. He tried to fight, but the pain was severe and hampering even before he had to fight his uncle and look-alike. Those wounds ached and he had no more fight to give after a few weak pushes against the harsh brick to get away. 

Once aptly striped, he is thrown harshly on the ground next to the still body of the first attacker. When he turns his head the other way, the girl was still there, sobbing and fighting against another man. 

He turns back to the dead body, screwing his eyes shut. He can’t fight - he has no spark, no will, nothing left to protect him from the cruel ground and crueler men. 

One of the others laughs, “Should make her fuck Louis.”

Another agrees, “Maybe this one. Revenge for killing him.” Someone grabs his jaw and forces his face around to look at his attacker. “Open your damn eyes. You’re gonna look at him.” the knife presses cold against his throat. A startling clarity washed over him. Even dead, there was no way they would leave him without fulfilling their want. “Or we’ll kill the girl.” He opened his eyes, glaring at the man bearing on top of him. “Good. Now look at him.” His face is pressed to the side, too hard and too fast that it hurts his neck and jaw. His face gets scraped up again on the rough and wet ground. 

He sobs as the first belt is unlatched when the man on him shifts and pulls himself free. He closes his eyes before the threat is redelivered and he opens them again. 

He keeps his eyes fixed on the wall over the dead body as the man on top of him takes what he wants, and the one after too. The third man as well, before he closes his eyes.

He can hear them talking, laughing. They think he was unconscious, smoking and drinking anew. He moves his head and looks at where the girl was lying. Her throat was cut, and blood was over her front and the ground around her. 

Anger sparked in him, and for a moment his fight renewed. The men notice as he rises back to his feet, coon, and crow, and laugh as he stumbles for a proper footing. 

-

“Milo?” a hand on his shoulder startled him enough that he lashed out. Rio was standing behind the couch, and he had Miles pinned face down under him. 

“Sup,” Miles grunts, looking up at him. “Awake?”

“Sorry,” he mutters, stepping back. He looks out the window. He has an opening shift again. He’d need to leave soon. 

“It’s okay,” Miles huffed, standing as well. He rubs his jaw and rolls his shoulders. “You okay?”

“Peachy.”

He showers and ignores the new scars on his body. 

10 minutes after opening, Hobie enters the cafe. 

“Can I get hot coffee with three shots of espresso, two sugars, and a blueberry muffin?” 

And Milo feels a bit better as he recites, “Nine fifty-three. I’ll bring it over.” their hands brush as he passes over the muffin in exchange for a ten, and he smiles.

“You look tired,” Hobie says gently. 

“Gee, thanks,” Milo returns drily.

“I mean,” Hobie frowns a bit. “You just look like you could use some decent sleep. Come over to mine?”

“Because a hotel will make me feel so much better,” he retorts, shoving the change back at Hobie.

“It’s an apartment. Not a super nice one, granted,” Hobie laughed softly. “Gwendy wants me to do some long station recon. She’s looking after my place.”

“Oh… I- um,” Milo looks past Hobie as Miles shuffles in. His twin raises a slow eyebrow. “I’ll see. Here.” He hands him a slip of paper with his number. Hobie smiles. 

“I’ll wait for my coffee then.” He turns and jumps when he sees Miles, who crossed his arms. Ganke pushes around Miles and grumbles to himself. 

“Hey,” Milo greets them as Hobie takes his seat from the day before.

“Was he bothering you?” Miles asks as Ganke reads the menu. 

“No,” Milo smiles. “That's Hobie.”

“Ooooh, Hobie,” Ganke teased. Milo ignores him.

“Let me guess. Strawberry oat milk latte with mocha and a choco-nut muffin for Ganke. A large cold brew with 3 pumps of brown sugar creamer and a glazed donut?” Milo says, already typing it in.

“Yes, please,” Miles says, pulling out his wallet. He hands over the cash without being told the total. 

“So, my dear beloved twin,” Milo says, starting their coffee as well.

“What do you want?”

“I want to spend the night at his place.”

“Out of the question,” Miles says quickly. “We don’t even know him.”

“I know him,” Milo shoots back. 

“You’ve mentioned him once. He isn't even from here.”

“Neither am I,” Milo reminds. “Look,” he’s gonna hate himself for playing this card. “I can’t keep hurting you, or Aaron, or Ma, okay? Just one night, and if I still have as bad a nightmare as I have been, I won't bring it up again. Please, I need to try something.”

Miles squints at him for a moment. “I’m sitting on his roof and the moment I see anything suspicious, I'm getting you out of there.” He pauses. “And you have to convince Tio and Ma.”

Milo groans, “Fine, but you have to back me up on this.”

“You might still get a no. Ma’s working tonight and Tio has a private gig with Fisk. I'm all that's there.”

“I can handle myself. Plus, he’s a good guy, Miles.”

“I’m a good guy,” Miles says. “And you know what’ve done for my family.”

“Here, get to school,” Milo hands over their coffees. “Learn things.”

“Har, har. Shits a playground,” Ganke says, taking a large sip of his coffee. Miles makes a face at his lover's drink but slings an arm around him all the same. “Bye, Milo!”

“Bye!” Milo returns before he finishes Hobie’s drink. “Sorry, but they had to get in before first bell.”

“It’s fine. I forgot that there was a possibility of a doppelganger.” Then he pauses. “You liar! You knew she was here.”

“Of course I did,” Milo smiles softly but loses it quickly. “I wasn't ready then, and still aren't.”

“Okay,” Hobie agrees. “Now, you have to come up with a compelling argument to come over?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then. Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Milo returns to behind the counter. Two minutes later, he is sent a photo of himself, by Hobie if his pleased smile isn't enough to tip Milo off. Milo shakes his head and gets his revenge before the next customer arrives.