The rest of the city looks small from this roof. Miles always thought this, even before the powers, it always felt like a few steps and he could be jumping from building to building. Now that he can, it’s almost nicer just to look at it all. Take it in, try and remember the routes he’s taken through the cracks in the skyscrapers. New ones to try, and old ones he regrets, all for a different day of course. It’s too peaceful now.
Especially with his current company, the last thing he’d want to do is get out from under this water tank. Gwen’s to his right, flipping through his sketchbook (which she practically begged him to give her), and not so slowly getting through a whole plate of fried plátanos. His eyes can’t help but linger on her for a few moments, captivated by everything she does. Her slender fingers turn the page, and her eyes scan what’s probably the fifteenth drawing of her she’s seen. It’s embarrassing, but the way her lips curve into a faint smile sends a warmth surging through Miles' chest.
She’s leaning into him, holding up the book and tracing herself on the page, “You know, I really like this one. Brings out the sparkle in my eyes.”
“Alright alright, I get it!” He laughs, shoving her back a bit before folding himself over the ledge, “I’m sorry, okay?”
It’s not like he meant to draw her all those times (37 and counting) but how do you meet someone from a different dimension and not be completely captivated by them? And it’s not just Gwen, he draws everyone he met back when he first got his powers. Sure, he may draw her the most but it makes sense if you just think about the age similarities and their friendship! It’s totally different… kinda…
There’s a silence that washes over them, not an uncomfortable one, but it’s enough to make him peek out through his arm cave. He finds her staring at him, a small smile on her face, but upon noticing his gaze she pulls away and peers back at him over her shoulder, “Hm.”
Deciding that can’t be a good sign, he stands up a bit and tries to pry, “...what's wrong?”
“Nothin', just… you don’t gotta apologize,” she hands him back the sketchbook and he swears he can see the flush creeping into her face. She’s not looking at him anymore, so he grabs the book and matches her demeanor, looking off at the city once again, trying to hide the fact that his heart is racing a bit too fast.
He’s figured out by now she’s not actually bothered by his art of her, but still, it’s nice to hear it out loud. Makes his feelings seem… tangible? Well, that more or less happens with her just standing there. Gwen's presence, her realness, dispels any doubts lingering in his mind that maybe all the multiverse stuff was something his brain created to cope with getting powers. As ridiculous as it sounds, he’d genuinely contemplated it over the past year.
But he knows it’s real, he knows she’s real, and that comforts him. It’s weird, having someone around that can understand the strangest parts of you like it’s just another aspect of life. Gwen gives him that and more, and it’s nice. He hadn’t realized just how alone he’s felt since she… well since she showed up in his bedroom.
She’s saying something, rambling on an explanation that he hasn’t been paying attention to, but he catches the tail end as she says, “Honestly if I had that kind of talent I’d probably, I mean…”
He’s not thinking when he finishes her words, “You’d draw me too?”
The look on her face is too funny not to laugh at. So he does, and she punches him in the shoulder far too hard and then makes him go get more food. He obliges, and by the time he’s back she’s already engrossed in another one of his drawings, her brows furrowed as she inspects the page. Miles watches her, a mixture of awe and amusement on his face. He sets the food down beside her and takes a seat, unable to tear his gaze away from her focused look.
“Looking at some of this, the way you express yourself on the page, it reminds me of how I feel when I’m drumming.” She glances up and this time it’s probably him who’s got a dumb look on his face, “I don’t know, I don’t wanna sound pretentious, but it feels easier to use an artform to kinda… burn off all these feelings. Sometimes when I’m drumming it feels like I’m screaming at the top of my lungs the deepest shit inside me, and some of your stuff gives me that same feeling.”
It’s strange… but he understands exactly what she means.
“It’s like, you have stuff you can’t talk about with anyone. And it gets so bad that you need to find a way to just get it off your chest?” He tries to elaborate, but it’s a difficult feeling to describe, “But yeah, I, guess I’m similar then, I mean that’s why there’s so many of you in there, I kinda can’t get you out of my head sometimes…”
There’s a pause.
“Oh, really?”
Shit.
“Not-Not in a weird way, in like a, you meet someone from another dimension that's really cool and it’s hard to stop thinking about them… kinda… way…”
Another pause.
Her laughter makes it easier to let go of the embarrassment.
They settle next to each other again and for a second, it feels like they’ve been doing this forever. It’s natural with her, and maybe that’s just because they’re both spider people but, it feels like they’re closer than maybe they should be. He’s only really interacted with her for a few days, and sure it’s been over a year since he’s known her, but he hasn’t seen her at all. So why does it feel right to be next to her like this, talking to her, laughing with her?
He chances leaning into her a bit more, closing the gap between them even further. Thinking for a moment, he sighs before lowering his tone and whispering, “I’ve… really missed you, Gwen.”
It’s the truth. Sure, over the past year, he’s come into being Spider-Man and it’s been great. His impact on the world makes even the worst injuries and mistakes feel worth it. But he’d be lying if he said it was all smooth sailing. It’s hard being Spider-Man without an outlet.
He’s had no one to talk to. His parents have no clue that he’s Spider-Man, and he has to keep it that way, so trying to open up to them feels like walking on eggshells. Ganke is… alright. He’s a close friend, his roommate, and over the past year, it’s been a lifesaver having someone around who knows he’s Spider-Man. However, the only other person (in this universe) who actually knows his secret and it feels like he couldn’t have picked a more apathetic person.
Having someone here, who he feels comfortable with, that he can talk to without much of a filter…it’s nice. And the fact that it’s Gwen makes it even better. But if her sudden presence has done anything, it’s just highlighted how alone he’s felt this past year.
She smiles at him in a way that makes him feel like she understands.
But it’s not until her smile fades slightly, and she shifts her gaze to the city in the distance. Her voice carries a touch of sadness as she speaks, "Sometimes, I don't know, it's like... other people are just so much work, y'know?"
Miles nods in agreement, a solemn expression crossing his face. He understands what she means, almost too much, “Yeah… I get that.”
A heavy silence hangs between them, and the comfort that was there before seems to be fading. Gwen's voice trembles slightly as she continues, “And… especially with the whole secret identity thing… it feels like no one else would even understand?”
“So why try and get close to someone when you know you either have to tell them, or always keep them at arm's length…” Miles finishes the thought for her, and the tension feels like it’s rising far too fast. Talking like this with Gwen, it’s like they both know how ironic it is. Trying to get close to someone is a challenge for them, and here they are, getting close, when she’s going to have to leave in a little while with no promise of him ever seeing her again.
He can hear her breathing shift, “...Exactly. “I wish it could always be like this. With you, I don’t have to worry, and I don’t have to hide anything.”
For a second, he feels like reaching over and pulling her into a hug. But there’s something weird about this entire conversation, it’s hard to ignore. Yeah, for him, Gwen’s his only real outlet for this sort of thing. But Gwen’s different, she has that bracelet, and she has friends in this Spider-Team thing she’s talked about. It’s hard not to let that get to him, and suddenly he can’t really hold himself back from calling her out on it, “Well… why can’t it? That bracelet lets you come here, I don’t see-”
“Miles-”
There’s that tension again.
“No, I get it,” he pushes off the ledge and leans against the A/C unit behind him, “'Miguel won’t let me, super strict spider team something something Hobie lets me crash in his universe'...”
“It’s not like that Miles, come on. I’m not even supposed to be here right now I…” she turns around to him, but his staring seems to spin her back in the other direction. Her voice trails off and he watches as she leans forward to rest her elbows on the concrete edge. The back of her head pokes out from behind his jacket, and the sight eats away at him. It pisses him off, but he can’t stay mad at her. He tries to sigh as loud as he can before pushing off the wall and joining her on the right.
“I just wanted to see you so bad,” she chuckles as her head falls into her arms, “they’d kill me if they knew…”
“Good thing they don’t know then,” he nudges her arms, “right?”
“Yeah,” she smiles, looking up at him through her arms before closing her eyes. Breathing deeply, she pushes herself over the edge, catching the wall with her feet and slowly walking down the building. He follows her almost instantly, making sure no one’s watching first, but as he does she turns and pulls her mask over her face, “Speaking of, I should get back. This has been fun Miles, but I really-”
“-Wait!” He doesn’t realize it, but he’s caught her wrist as she turned, “Just…”
The words escape him, and it leaves them standing on the side of a building completely silent. She doesn’t say anything, the white eyes of her mask squinting ever so slightly, but her head tilts down, giving him the confidence to keep talking.
“Just a little while longer,” he lets her hand fall at her side, and it feels as if she’s hovering closer to him than before, “please, I wanted to show you something.”
There’s a long pause before she looks back up at him, “Okay Spider-Man, after you.”
"You sure you know where you're going?" Gwen asks, her voice laced with a hint of amusement.
Miles chuckles, leading the way with confidence, "It's just a little past this fence. Trust me."
They’d crawled past the tunnel entrance, making sure the three or four people who’d been waiting on the platform didn’t see them. He’s been down this route countless times over the past year, and every single time it feels like the first. His uncle walking to his right, hopping the fence, helping him put up one of his most cherished murals. It’s strange, this place holds so much for him, he’s kept it such a secret from everyone up until now. But it feels right showing it to her.
They reach the locked chain-link fence, and Miles opts to crawl on the ceiling through the top gap. He beckons Gwen to follow, but her eyes are already scanning their surroundings as she climbs over the gate.
“So is this your secret Spider-Man shed?” Her feet hit the ground before his, “We ’bout to walk into some super high-tech underground layer or something?”
Miles laughs, shaking his head and side-stepping a puddle, "Oh yeah, totally. Floating platforms with the car and everything."
It’s harder to see in the dark, but Gwen raises an eyebrow, her expression playful, "I mean, I didn't exactly peg you as the type," she smacks the wall and swings around it effortlessly as they turn, "but I'll respect it."
Miles leads her through the tunnels, making sure to check his carefully placed barriers along the way. He was joking before, but he definitely has treated this place like a lite version of Peter’s shed. He’d rather random people not show up while he’s down there tinkering or just getting away from everything.
After a few more twists and turns, he finally comes to a stop. Gesturing toward an orange tarp hanging in front of a cement doorway, “Okay, and we’re here.”
Gwen eyes the door, and he nearly laughs as she squints her eyes. "So, what's behind this? Should I actually brace myself for a superhero lair?"
Miles grins, his eyes lighting up. "Not exactly. But it's something special." He pulls the tarp back and lets her step through.
The space opens up into a larger room with high ceilings, and the walls are adorned with a colorful mural that stretches from floor to ceiling. It depicts various people in his life, vibrant and alive with intricate details. All of the Spider-People he’d met last year are there, along with his parents, his uncle Aaron, and of course Gwen. She seems to follow the wall, it spiraling with each addition, until it reaches the middle tag. A black and white outline of himself, hovering over his own “expectations”
Being back in this space, surrounded by his art and the memories it holds, brings up so many feelings. He watches Gwen as she takes in the mural, her eyes tracing the vibrant colors and intricate details. There's a certain reverence in her gaze, a recognition of the significance this artwork holds for him.
Her fingers gently brush against the painted figures on the wall, her voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and tenderness, “This is… amazing Miles.”
Miles nods, his voice soft as he speaks, "Thanks, I made this with my Uncle, the night I got bit by the spider…”
His voice trails and he can feel her gaze land on him. He doesn’t acknowledge it, instead choosing to walk forward and hop over the back of an old couch he’d dragged in here. He’s spent longer here than he’d like to admit, so even if there are a few questionable stains, he welcomes the comfort. Her presence appears next to him, and the cushion dips as she sits next to him, so close that their shoulders immediately rub against one another.
“Hope I didn’t disappoint you,” he chuckles, leaning back and staring up at the silhouette of his younger self, “the whole Spider-Cave thing isn’t exactly… me.”
Gwen's eyes meet his, a gentle understanding passing between them before she looks to the wall and nods in its direction, "This definitely feels more like you.”
He smiles gratefully at her words, feeling a sense of validation in her appreciation. He didn’t think it’d feel this weird showing it to someone else, but it’s strangely like a weight being lifted off his shoulders. Maybe he just used this as an excuse to keep her here a little longer, and maybe that’s wrong, but it’s still reassuring to have her here, in this place, looking at his mural.
“At first it was just the middle piece, and uh,” his hand kinda swoops across the rest of the wall, “over the past year I’ve been adding to it, expanding it with people I…”
His voice dies off and he can feel her cheeky stare from his right. Looking over slightly, she’s grinning like the devil, “Love?”
He fights himself from jumping off the couch, choosing to instead lean back and stare at her bug-eyed, “No! Not-Not exactly! Just people who are important to me! Like My Uncle, and Peter, and…”
“Me?” She glances up at the wall, “Three times…? if I caught them all.”
She looks back at him, her teeth peaking out from behind her lips, and he can do nothing but let his head fall out of embarrassment.
She’s laughing and grabbing at his shoulders, trying to pick him up from his slumped form, “It’s okay Miles, this is awesome, and you are awesome for doing it! I feel honored that you’d put me in something like this, seriously!”
“Really?” He groans, only half serious, “It’s not weird? Or obsessive? Not even a little sad?”
“Maybe… it’s a little sad but not in the way you’re thinking." Her smiling face peaks into his vision and it makes him roll his eyes a bit. They laugh together, and their eyes meet in this weird in-between of their antics.
In this moment, he watches her, and her face starts to morph. Her smile falls ever so slightly, and her eyes do this weird thing where he swears a splash of deep blue floats out of them and fades into the atmosphere. Not tears, pure color, and it confuses him. Maybe that’s why he barely reacts as she moves closer to him. Slowly at first, but suddenly her eyes slam shut and she’s hugging him. Tight, so tightly he can barely feel his sides, and it registers that she’s shaking against him much later than he’d like to admit.
His body freezes up but he forces his arms to move, and he wraps them around her as gently as he can, “Gwen I-“
“I’m so sorry I didn’t come to see you sooner,” her voice is shaking, and sobs escape in between her words, “I should’ve… I should’ve tried harder, did something or-”
“Stop,” he speaks into her hair, suddenly feeling the sting of tears crawl its way up his own face, “you don’t have to apologize, Gwen, seriously. We’re literally separated by universes, you couldn’t possibly have a better excuse, okay?”
“Still,” her voice cracks and it breaks his heart, “you said it yourself, it’s hard for people like us, and when I was alone on my world after meeting you, I just…”
“…it was constantly like, oh I should ask Miles, or maybe Miles will get this, and every time I realized I couldn’t talk to you I felt like shit. Knowing there are people out there that understand, and not being able to talk to them, it’s horrible. These past few months I’ve had that, people to talk to, people who get it… and you haven’t. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should’ve done more, I wish I had been able to.”
He doesn’t know what else to say, so he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he holds her and lets her cry. The tears escape him as well, at her words, her admission of guilt, it hurts so much. Because she’s right, it’s horrible having no one, and it really would have been so nice to see her even for a few minutes. Just a reminder or something that would tell him someone understands, someone’s out there like him.
But she didn’t come until now, and that’s okay. It has to be okay, He has to be fine with it, because really, what is he doing staying mad at her? He’d rather push that down, and let every other feeling that comes with the name ‘Gwen Stacy’ exist in him. And maybe that’s unhealthy, but being Spider-Man never really is.
Maybe… he can just have this.
Underneath his breath, he tells her, “You’re here now.”
His chest vibrates as she answers back, “But I can’t be…”
He thinks she might pull away, run off, and leave him sitting here, but she doesn’t. She stays in his arms, quiet, silently sobbing as she grips the fabric of his coat and buries her face into his chest. He holds her tightly, his heart breaking at her words and the pain she carries.
He knows this won’t last. It can’t, she’ll leave sooner or later, she’ll have to. He wants to offer her solace, to assure her that he'll always be there for her, but the truth weighs heavily on his tongue. His arms squeeze her tightly, and his voice strains as her name escapes his lips, “Gwen…”
“Please…” her voice is so quiet, barely even a whisper, “just a little while longer.”