...Or Don't
Aaron Davis observed the boy slumped on his sofa.
He had watched this boy grow and change before his very eyes. He wanted to be a role model to this boy. He wanted to help this boy achieve his goals.
But to do that, he needed to keep his two titles far away from each other.
Uncle Aaron and the Prowler were never supposed to be attached to the same face. But tonight Miles had been asking his Uncle Aaron if he was going to kill him, not the Prowler. And the Prowler had taken Miles home, not Uncle Aaron. This wasn’t supposed to be happening.
And Miles was calm, too calm. Sure he had been crying and was still buzzing from adrenaline, but Aaron had seen his nephew have bigger reactions to bugs. If he was Miles he would have screamed his vocal cords dry and tried his damnedest to get back home to his father who was a cop. But Miles was still here, even after a few incredulous questions and more horror-filled tears, and talking about spider bites and Spider-Man.
“Powers?” He acknowledged gracefully, taking Miles’ topic change without a moment of hesitation. His one moment of hesitation that night had saved his nephew’s life but he wasn’t sure any more slip-ups would save his nephew from whatever was tormenting his mind.
“I know you saw me stickin’ to the ceiling,” Miles spoke quickly, curtly. Like Aaron was some stranger he had bumped into on the street. “I’ve been sticking to things all day. Buildings, ceilings, pigeons, people, and I don’t know how to make it stop!” The boy stood up and Aaron resisted the urge to tell him to sit back down.
They were both unsteady but Miles was the first priority in Aaron’s book so if he wanted to move around Aaron would let him. His nephew didn’t go far, shuffling toward the kitchen in small movements before he stopped. “Were you doing Prolwer jobs every time your voicemail said you were out of town?” Miles questioned suddenly. Aaron got off the floor and took Miles’ recently vacated spot on the couch.
“Yeah,” he answered, watching Miles fiddle with his fingers in the bright light of the kitchen. He didn’t want Miles coming to the apartment when the Prowler was leaving it, so the backup voicemail had been set up when Miles was allowed to go around Brooklyn by himself.
“Uncle Aaron?” Miles’ voice was softer. Less brash Brooklyn Kid and more Miles. “What am I supposed to do?”
“About what?”
“All of this. I mean- is this why you and Dad don’t talk? Because he knows?”
Aaron shook his head, leaning forward and bracing his arms on his knees, “No, Jeff doesn’t know. If he knew, I’d be talkin’ to you through a glass barrier.”
Miles visibly flinched and Aaron felt like running himself through with his own claws. “If he finds out, do you think he’ll arrest you?”
“Jeff’s not a dirty cop, Miles,” Aaron spoke slowly, “he takes that oath seriously-”
“Ok!” Miles interrupted loudly before he walked back to the couch and sat down on the edge of it. “I won’t say anything.”
Aaron froze, gazing at his nephew with a weighted stare. Miles returned the look, hazel brown eyes shifty as he tried to avoid Aaron’s eyes. “I don’t want you to go to jail,” Miles weakly admitted, “but you- you can’t keep killing people.”
“I don’t want this shit weighing on you, Miles-”
“But I really…” Miles trailed off when Uncle Aaron shushed him. The older man, twisted his body to face his nephew and pushed the words bubbling in his chest out with no space for Miles to object.
“This is serious stuff, Miles. All this shit shouldn’t have happened. My job was to make sure you were safe and tonight I failed that,” He was making Miles cry again, and he didn’t want to be saying this stuff but his nephew needed to hear it anyway, “The Prowler is a whole different side of me that I never wanted you to come across and it’s not because I want to put you in a position where you know who I am and what I do, but because it could get you killed.”
Miles was silent for a moment, his breathing shaky and eyes red as he went over the words. “When I was 11 you told me,” he mumbled hoarsely, “that I was old enough to make decisions about what I choose to do with my life. You’re a big part of my life and I-I don’t want you in jail.” Unexpectedly, he dove toward his uncle and buried his face into the man’s chest. “ I’m being so selfish.” He admitted, voice muffled and thick, into Aaron’s shirt.
Aaron knew about selfishness. It wasn’t selfish to be a kid and want all your family members to be law-abiding citizens. No, it was selfish to think he could hide this from Miles. It was selfish for Miles to find out like this. There was no amount of hugs or soft words that could erase this. And with the addition of these new spider powers Miles was freaking out about, Aaron didn’t see a smooth end to the year in their futures.
He buried the bottom half of his face in Miles’ hair and tried not to feel like everything had changed when the boy didn’t even bother making a quip about his hair being ruined. Miles shifted around, hugging Aaron with a ridiculous amount of strength and pushing the man further into the couch as though he was trying to trap him. “Do you promise?” Miles questioned, voice muffled and low.
“About what?”
“That you won’t kill people anymore?”
Faking Miles’ death would be an easy fix. Fisk didn’t really get a look at Miles before he ran away and the man would easily believe it if the Prowler reported that the witness was dead. But if not…then Miles would be in danger. If Kingpin figured out that it was Miles in the tunnels and he sent the rest of his goons after his nephew…the Prowler would have to respond.
“I promise I won’t be hired for assassination jobs anymore,” Aaron decided, “but if anyone comes after you for this shit, I can’t promise that.”
His nephew accepted it, nodding against his clavicle and going boneless in his arms. “What do I do with the powers?”
“Hell, we’re both gonna have to learn together,” Aaron scoffed. Trust his nephew to get bit by some creepy ass spider and wake up with powers. “You need to shower, man, you smell like a train bum.”
“And you don't?” The quick response evoked laughter from both of them but the tension and horrible truths they both had to face tonight still weighed them down. The apartment went quiet again, something that never happened when Miles was over, and they both stared off into space. Aaron wrapped his arms around Miles, figuring the boy wasn't letting go anytime soon, and quietly admitted, "I'm sorry, Miles, for all of it. I never want you to be involved in stuff like that and...I'm-"
He paused, shaking his head, and tried to piece together what he was saying in a way that Miles could understand easiest. The boy in question shifted and spoke with just the tiniest bit of relief painting his tone, "At least it was you."
"What?"
"If it wasn't you I'd be dead," Miles spoke and Aaron hated that his nephew managed to find the good in everything even when he shouldn't. "I was trying to accept it- dying, but then I'd think about you and Mom and Dad and I couldn't...I just kept thinking about all the stuff I told you guys and all the promises, and I thought about Dad finding out during work-"
"You're gonna work yourself up," Aaron muttered.
If he had slashed the moment Miles hit the floor, his nephew would've died thinking about his family. Miles would've left the world thinking about the people who made up his life and wouldn't even know that it was one of them who robbed him of his life. Aaron would've spent the rest of his life in jail, because the only other punishment for killing someone like Miles was death, thinking about his nephew the same way Miles was thinking of him in his last moments. Except instead of innocent, happy memories they would be moments plagued by Aaron's own stupidity. All those moments where Miles was shining brighter than the city and Aaron had never told him-
"You're the best of us. This whole damn family, man, and you don't even know it." Miles was glancing at him through the corner of his eye like he was insane but he pressed on anyway because Miles liked to brush heavy things off and lock them away in the back of his mind to never be confronted. "I let you down, all these years I been letting you down, but I wanted to be someone who you look up to."
"I do look up to you," Miles reassured before giving him another suspicious glance through the corner of his eyes, "not the Prowler stuff though. So...maybe you should quit!"
"It's not a 9 to 5 that I clock in for," Aaron deadpanned before jabbing his fingers into Miles' sides. The boy leaped away with a burst of laughter and curled up on the other side of the couch, "Seriously, man, go shower. Your sweater smells like the station." Miles got up automatically, turning toward the bathroom and moving to walk off before stopping and peering back at his Uncle, "You can quit though, right?"
Aaron tapped the earpiece still secured in his ear, "I'll take care of that right now. The Prowler's last shift for Fisk."
Miles smiled hesitantly, nodded his head, and marched to the bathroom. In the shower, he'd wash away the grime of tracks and the cold feeling of near death as his Uncle spoke in clipped sentences to get rid of a piece of him that had existed for a decade all in the name of his nephew.