Monsters Don't Purr
Miguel couldn’t even fully register the Spider-kids' appearance before two forms rushed over to him and wrapped their arms around his body in a hug.
“You’re alright!” The cheerful voice of Pavitr filled the room, chasing away the uncomfortable feeling that was left over from Miguel and Peter's conversation.
The teenager's voice was enough to kick his brain back into gear and finally register what happened. Peter's words were still running around in his head but right now the major feeling Miguel felt was relief.
Ever since Peter had saved him from his self-executed exile, a part of Miguel was worried if anything happened to the kids while he was out of commission. The image of their bodies being beaten and bloody had flashed in his head one too many times so finally seeing them alive and healthy was a welcome weight off his shoulders.
The two forms who had embraced Miguel he could now recognize as Pavitr and Peni, Pavitr had pulled away to sit on the arm of the couch while Peni had let go but took a seat on the floor in front of the couch, right next to Miguel's feet.
Looking up to see the rest of the teens was a mixture of emotions for Miguel.
First off he really hadn’t thought that Hobie would be here, the teen had made it clear that he didn’t really like the stuff Miguel had done so he had just assumed that the punk teen wouldn’t be interested in how Miguel was doing.
Noir had walked over to sit on the coffee table next to Peni and Gwen was standing next to Miles with a hand on the teen's shoulder.
Miles.
Talons cutting into flesh.
Panicked breathing. Blood coating his hands.
Miguel clenched his fists, sending a jolt of pain through his hands as the pressure irritated his self-inflicted wounds. He sucked in a quick breath, his eyes darting to Miles’ forearm, searching for injury.
He must have been too obvious with his concern because no more than two seconds after Miguel’s red eyes examined the teens forearm did someone address his worried expression.
“Oh yeah, it’s fine” Miles responded, holding up his previously injured arm and rolling up the sleeve of his green jacket to show the healed skin underneath.
The living room was still dark to the normal eye but Miguel’s night vision allowed him to see the discolored skin from where his talons split open the teens' flesh. It may have healed but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Now the kid would have to have that scar for a while before the healing factor hid it from untrained eyes.
All because of Miguel
Before he could escape into his self deprecating thoughts the voice of Miles pulled his attention back.
“What happened, tío? You disappear for three days, lock Lyla out— wait.” Miles' list was cut off and Miguel saw the teen's brown eyes flicker down to his newly bandaged hands which were still uncomfortably clenched in his lap. A brief thought flew through Miguel's head proud to be called tío but he knew it wasn’t said as he’d hoped.
“What’s wrong with your hands?”
The question alerted the rest of the spider-kids to look at the condition of Miguel's hands which got surprised gasps from Peni and Pavitr and widened eyes from the rest, except for Hobie who’s expression was only changed by the rise of an eyebrow.
“You're hurt.” Noir stated, his raspy voice threaded with a questioning that sounded like he found another clue in a recent mystery.
He saw Peter look over at Miguel with a look that hurt him to see on his friends face, brown eyes pooled with sorrow and pity. Peter's gaze flicked from Miguel’s eyes to the spider-kids, tell them they’ve worried enough.
Miguel let out the breath he had been subconsciously holding before pushing himself up and speaking.
“ I’ll tell you all later,” His voice was dry and dull from the days of being unused and by the looks on Gwen and Miles' faces it didn’t help to ease the air of concern that draped over Peter's living room.
Miguel still had his watch on, thankfully he probably would pass out if he glitched right now, so he started opening the coordinates to get to his apartment but was rudely interrupted by a certain blonde haired teen.
“Oh no you don’t, tell us what happened.” Gwens ordered her tone was stern but her blue eyes shook with emotion as they met Miguel's red ones.
Another sigh took his lungs as he broke away from Gwen's stare and he walked away from the couch where he could safely open a portal.
“You can’t just disappear, come back, look like shit and ignore us Miguel!” Gwen cried her voice broke halfway through the accusation and Miguel saw Miles walk forward to take her place.
“Miguel if this is about me freaking out I’m really sorry—” Miles started as he walked closer to Miguel but he was interrupted.
“Don’t” Miguel growled, the noise rumbling deep in his throat before his eyes widened and he cut himself off. Miles hadn’t moved any closer but not further either, a part of Miguel wanted to look at the kid's expressions to see the anger or fear he deserved but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“Do—” He cleared his throat. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Miguel finally got the right input on his multiversal watch, the bandages covering the tips of his finger making it extremely more difficult to operate the device.
Someone else said something as the portal opened, the bright orange light burned his eyes, voices sounding as if they were yelling after Miguel.
He felt the brush of a touch on his shoulder before he stepped inside the multiversal portal closing it before he could be followed.
Colors and sounds blurred together as Miguel flew through the fabric of the multiverse, his thoughts still scattered. Should he have stayed? The kids seemed happy to see him, or was that just hopeful thinking?
Would they be mad at him for what he did to himself?
He wished he could pass the injury off as a simple work related cut but the chances of getting cut on each finger, on both of his hands? Nobody with more than one brain cell would believe that.
Maybe Peter was telling them right now and they were all talking about him, how they were irritated or annoyed. Maybe happy that he was back, they could go on more missions now.
Oh, was that why they were happy to see him. So he could just be their boss again?
No
That wasn’t true. They were happy for Miguel, not just their boss.
The hopeful thought didn’t quite drown out the doubt that plagued his head but it was enough for now.
_______________________________
The first thing Miguel did when he got back to his apartment was get out of his suit and clean himself up.
Not showering for a few days especially after training was sure to leave an uncomfortable layer of grime on someone's body. So, a shower was my first priority.
Miguel was extremely grateful for his hair to be clean again, although it was a pain to brush it out he’d eventually gotten it to an okay state.
After cleaning up and throwing on a gray knit sweater and some sweatpants he choked down a likely expired microwave dinner. There was some form of meat with a mix of vegetables on the side, the meat was overcooked and dry while the vegetables had turned into a pile of mush he had barely touched.
He kept the lights turned off while he debated checking on what work related things had happened while he wasn’t present, but ultimately he’d decided against it and just checked his messages on the watch while sitting on his couch.
Jessica Drew
Peter said something happened during training. Is everyone alright?
Miguel answer me. I need to know if you’re ok
There were more messages sent by his co-worker but he moved onto the next contact, still struggling to use the device with his bandage-covered fingers.
Peter B. Parker
U ok? You were kinda weird early, is everything alright?
Talked to the kids, they were a bit frazzled.
Please respond
Miles is ok.
We are all worried about you Miguel
Answer your messages. At least just say that you're alive.
This is longer than your normal brooding sessions
Don’t do anything stupid.
Oh.
Miguel read over the last message he read.
Don’t do anything stupid it read. Well he’d definitely failed at that didn’t he? He rubbed his thumb over the bandaged pads of his fingers, slowly adding more pressure until he felt a sting from the wounds.
He could tell his head was clearer now, it was easier to think without his thoughts slipping through his fingers. Thinking back on what he remembers thinking, the betraying thoughts that said Peter and the kids would be happy that he’d hurt himself.
It made him want to slap his past self.
Why would they be happy, he’d hurt himself and in the process had probably hurt them as well. The memory of the kids eyes darting to his hands and the way emotion flooded their eyes, was it betrayal? Anger? Pity?
It wouldn’t be long until they showed up at his apartment to get some concrete answers. Miguel knew Peter had probably convinced the group against rushing straight to Miguel's apartment as soon as the man left.
With a quick glance at the time he’d realized that it had been a little under an hour and a half since he’d left Peter’s.
Miguel rubbed the corners of his eyes with a groan. He knew he had messed up. It was stupid to lock himself away and he had overdosed on his drug which was another idiotic thing that he’d done.
Now he’d have to make a new dosage schedule with his depleted supply. Not to mention it would probably be in his best interests to lay off of the injections for a bit so he could savor the supply.
That would also mean dealing with the unwanted increase in the instincts.
He started picturing another incident with his talons but the spark of the idea was quickly put out.
It would be fine.
Miguel would just take some precautions, make up some excuse for rescheduling training with the kids and anytime he felt the need to do anything inhuman he would just excuse himself for a moment.
Inhuman? For some odd reason thinking that word felt wrong. Like a puzzle piece that looked like it fit but it was just a little bit out of place.
What else would the weird tendencies be called?
Animalistic may work. He growls and bites like some sort of feral creature but once again something whispers in his head that it wasn’t right.
Maybe it was the connotation that was attached to the words. But using a positive to describe biting and growling wasn’t correct either.
Monsters growled. Monsters hissed at and bit people.
Was that really what Miguel was? A monster pretending to be a hero?
The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, he remembered spirling into a thought pool like this but even with clearer thinking it didn’t seem untrue.
But calling himself a monster? Was it too harsh?
A part of him felt like he should feel hurt by the title but he really didn’t. Was that because it was the truth?
Almost like flipping through a report Miguel started filing through all the times he could remember that his other half of his DNA took the reins. Almost the entirety of the memories were aggressive, where he was in some kind of danger or just overcome with anger.
That was until one of his more recent experiences.
The smoothie shop, after training.
Miguel had sat next to Miles and he was for once just enjoying all of the kids' company. Then a warm feeling in his chest.
That was the difference between him and a monster.
Monsters don’t purr.
They don’t get that warm feeling, monsters don’t care.
So, was that it? Miguel wasn’t a monster but he had sure done some messed up things.
He had chased a kid down just for wanting to help his dad, He had let people he cares about worry about him for days without even a response from his end, He hurt people.
And to top it all off he hadn’t even apologized to everyone.
It had been months and he still never had enough strength to bring himself to apologize to Miles.
Miguel pushed himself up off of his couch, sparing a glance at the empty living room that once was filled with the people he had always known he cared for but could never admit it to himself.
Swiftly slipping on some shoes he rushed over to the door to his apartment, his pace quick while he pulled up his watch to find the locations of the kids.
His injured hand pulled open the door, his gaze still on his watch until he brought it up and was met with someone standing in his doorway. Arm raised like they were about to knock right before he had opened the door while the other held a familiar box from the spider society cafeteria.
Dark brown eyes paired with his hesitant and unsure smile, there in Miguel's doorway stood Miles Morales.
“te traje una empanada”