Miles was swinging from building to building, the wind rushing past him. Nights like these, where he can just get out of the house and let the night offer him sanctuary as he sits above the people below were some of the only times he found solace in being alone. He came to a stop as he landed on one of the tallest buildings in the city, he paused for a moment to take in his surroundings before walking towards the edge and sitting down.
Usually, nights like these were peaceful, and sometimes if he was lucky, quiet. Miles knows what he signed up for when he took on the responsibility of being spiderman- and it’s not like he’s trying to complain, but Miles hasn't had a peaceful night to himself for a long time since donning the mask. As he sat on the edge, his mind began to wander. Bringing up memories of where he was painted as a mistake, for something he never had any control over. Being treated like he didn’t know what he was doing- and maybe he didn’t, but he’ll be damned if he was treated as if he didn’t know what he was doing everything for. And he had hoped that the others would understand him as well, would understand his why .
Instead he was branded as an anomaly .
And a part of him knew where they were all coming from, but he wasn’t going to let their concerns dictate what and whether or not he continued to fight…and maybe that’s part of the problem. Is Miles not letting himself get caught up in their worries, something spiderman would do? Something Peter Parker would do? Is this him just being selfish? He thought he was being brave, he thought he was being heroic. But was he supposed to just sit back while his dad, his hero, just die knowing he could stop it?
As he was getting lost in his head, his spider sense went off and caused him to turn around, only to see The Spot standing a few feet behind him.
MIle’s eye twitched under the mask.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the one and only spiderman- or well, I suppose that doesn’t hold true anymore does it. How has it been by the way, all those little spider friends of yours.” He asks, taunting.
Miles is brought back to the spider headquarters, he’s being chased, by people who are supposed to be some of the few who truly know what it’s like to live like him, by people he thought were his friends. He’s reminded of the pain he felt when Peter’s comm went off when they tracked his location.
“I’m not in the mood, man.” He says through gritted teeth, pushing down his hurt and anger.
“Aww what’s wrong? Feeling lonely?” He asks, and Miles can hear the patronizing tone dripping from his voice.
Mile’s eyes begin to water, because ya , he is. He is lonely. All he had wanted since becoming spiderman was to do right by the people and be with his friends. Aside from his mom and dad, these people were his only family. They were the one’s there when his uncle died in his arms, after both of their identities had been exposed to each other. And maybe, he thought that meant something. But after everything, after being forced to go through being deemed enemy number one to all of the spider people, his people included, had him thinking that maybe the connection he thought he felt with them was all one sided. And that hurts more than he could have ever thought.
He jerks back as pain explodes from his lip, he had subconsciously bitten it, and he could feel the blood welling up and dripping down his face.
All this time, he had been putting his feelings away, and he had just reached his breaking point.
Oh hell no
He was not about to let The Spot see him cry cause he was lonely .
He shoots web in The Spot’s direction, only to have him dodge it with his little portal things.
“Oop- too slow!”
Mile’s grinds his teeth at The Spot’s nonchalant attitude.
“Cut it out.” He barely manages to muster out.
“What? Can’t fight me on your own? That’s too bad, because your friends aren’t here with you, you don’t have anyone in your corner.” The Spot says playfully.
And Miles freezes.
And suddenly he’s reminded of Peter. How Peter helped him understand his powers when no one else could, when he said that he had hoped Mayday would grow into the person Miles was. And then he’s reminded of his comm going off, he’s reminded of him standing with the other spider people against him. He’s reminded of Gwen, how she was the first person his age he met who could understand the confusion and pressure he was going through. And then he’s reminded of Gwen siding with Miguel.
He could practically feel her webs being shot at his chest trying to stop his fall, subsequently, he could feel the way it felt to sever it. It felt as if he severed the bond they had, the friendship they built after everything.
“You should have never come to see me.” It was a sentence he could never have imagined saying, especially not to Gwen. Especially not after wanting nothing more than to be with them.
Because that was all he wanted since having to say goodbye to all of them, He wanted to be with them, he thought he was theirs. But they didn’t want to be with him, they didn’t want him.
The tears were falling before he could even notice.
Wearing the mask had never felt so claustrophobic and suffocating than it did right now.
A sob manages to escape his lips.
Great, he hadn’t wanted The Spot to see him cry, and here he was.
The Spot takes a step back, surprised.
Miles falls to his knees before he’s even aware of it, sobs coming out of him.
The silence that hangs over them is heavy with discomfort and awkwardness.
“Uh, spiderman? Is everything-uh, is everything ok?
The question causes MIles to pause, taking in what was said. He slowly starts laughing, the laughter begins to grow in volume. And before he knows it, he’s clutching his stomach from how hard he’s laughing. He can’t help it, The Spot, the person who’s responsible for a majority of this, someone who MIles has seen as an enemy this entire time, is the currently the only person to ask if he was ok.
How fucked up is that?
“Am I ok? Am I ok?! What about this makes it seem like I’m ok? My uncle is dead . My friends, people who I thought I could trust to have my back turned against me. And now I’ve been told I’m just supposed to let my dad die . And the fact that I won’t makes me an anomaly. And you’re asking if I’m ok ?”
His laughter slowly devolves into mindless sobbing.
This was not how he had expected this interaction to go.
He felt like a little kid. Sitting on the ground unable to contain his sobs. Had he been unaware of his circumstance, had he been younger than what he was, he would have expected his mom or dad to come running to him to fix everything. His dad would sit MIles on his lap and push his head against his chest as he ran his hand through his hair, whispering that Miles was safe. That no matter where he was, his dad would always make sure he was safe.
His mom would sit on the floor with him and place his head on her shoulder as she rubbed circles across his back. She’d rock them back and forth and hum a tune that managed to calm Miles down.
And his uncle would embrace him in a tight hug then managed to feel so safe and grounding.
But Miles wasn’t unaware of his situation, and he wasn’t a little kid anymore either. None of those things would be able to happen.
He hadn’t noticed The Spot coming closer until he was standing right in front of him, he was even more surprised when he sat down right next to him.
“I-” He started, but cut himself off.
MIles turned to The Spot, his sniffles the only sound to be heard between the two.
“You and I are both anomalies, huh?” Something akin to regret coming from his tone.
“What?” MIles whispers.
“Spiderman, I-I’m sorry.”
“What are you-”
“I know what it feels like…to be ousted from the people you thought were there for you. What it’s like to feel lost in a sea of people who tell you that you’re a mistake that was never meant to happen.”
(Had Spiderman always looked this young? How old was Spiderman exactly?)
“Listen, I-I won’t fight you anymore, ok?”
(Him and I are so much more similar than I could have imagined, and here I am, acting exactly like the people who hurt me)
“We can be friends now, right? Because I made you, and you made me. You and I are connected to each other, in a way that can’t be easily forgotten.”
Something about The Spot’s words were…comforting.
Their connection wasn’t based on similar experiences. They created each other, they exist because of each other. And somehow, that feels reassuring.
Miles simply sat there, observing the The Spot, noticing his defenseless body language and hearing the genuine tone in his voice.
And so Miles slowly let himself lean on The Spot's shoulder.
“And…you won’t leave?”
“How could I? Like I said, I created you, and you…created me.”
Right.
(Right.)
(They created each other, and The Spot wasn’t going to let one of his creations suffer the same fate he did. He had never noticed just how good spiderman was. How good he tried to be. He was a hero, someone who wanted to save people, and wanted to save the people closest to him. He was a better person than The Spot. He might be the best thing to happen to the city, and he didn't deserve to be punished for that)
As the two sat there, a hero leaning into a villain, feeling comforted by the mere presence of the person beside him, the villain sat looking at the hero from the corner of his eye, and swearing to do better. He was going to keep the kid safe, he was going to do right by him, his grudges be damned.
He barely noticed the way his arm wrapped around the younger's shoulder. An urge of protectiveness surging through him, something he wasn't sure he would ever feel again.
It was… nice.
Really nice.
He could get used to this feeling.
And something inside of him said that he would, he'd have plenty of time to adjust to this newfound need to protect.