Spider kid, Vampire Father

There was smoke. A lot of smoke. 

The street was full of debris from the Alchemax building that had fallen in the attack. There were people running, people screaming, people dead. 

Everything was in chaos.

A man in a blue and red suit was kneeling in the rubble. He was holding a 15-year-old teenager. The boy was being held by him, coughing up blood, looking at his opponent's tears. 

All the boy could do was moan in pain. His father, in desperation, was doing everything he could to stop the bleeding from his abdomen. His hands were full of other people's blood, innocent blood was being mixed with that of his child. His mind was not processing the situation well. 

Seeing that his bleeding wouldn't stop, he tried to lift him up to see if the bullet had gone all the way through his body, but in doing so his son cried out more in pain.  

“I know, I know it hurts.” The father was in pain to see his son in such a state. He didn't know what else to do to save him. “It's going to be okay, it's okay, just breathe. Dad knows what to do” The boy, who couldn't stop looking at his father with those eyes full of pain, was suffering more and more, the pain in his abdomen was more and more unbearable. “Dad will take away your suffering”.       

The boy squeezed the older boy's arm with his hand and cried out in pain when his father made a wrong move on his wound.

“Shit!” he looked at him in exasperation. He was thinking what to do, his mind working a thousand times a second.  “Shhh... It'll pass, don't cry any more, pulga”. 

The adult wiped the tears that were falling from the eyes of his beloved and dying son. As his hands were stained with blood, he smeared the crimson liquid on his face. 

“Pa... I-”

It all happened so fast. In a second, the life of the man with a spider symbol on his suit had changed forever. 

"No..." He began to deny frantically as he felt his son's hand fall limp. He began to cry as he could no longer hear his heart beating. “No, no, no, no, no, no.”

He was a sea of tears, torrents of salty drops falling unrestrainedly down his face. Immense pain spread throughout his body and embedded itself in his heart. He cradled his son's body close to him, so he could feel him one last time. He rocked him as he let out heartbreaking sounds of misery. He held him tightly, clinging to him in fear that if he let go, he would fade away. 

He couldn't believe it, he had just lost the person he loved the most because of him. Because of a stupid whim, he had let his world be destroyed in a second. 

He felt dizzy, his head was spinning, he didn't understand anything. He didn't understand what he was seeing. The world he was in was being destroyed, the surrounding buildings were failing as if they had a virus. His world was on fire and a void was coming dangerously close to him. He tried to stand up with his limp son in his arms, but that failure had trapped his boy's body. It began to fail, and he reached out to grab it again. 

He couldn't, it had already disappeared.

Before Gwen introduced him, he knew who Miles Morales was. Thanks to Lyla, he got a glimpse into the anomaly that was this kid as Spider-Man, the damage this kid was doing to the multiverse. But before Lyla introduced him, he already knew who Miles Morales was. 

He had sought him out, he had the need to, he couldn't go another moment without him, without his son. So he searched the multiverse. And he found him. 

Miguel O'Hara had found the closest variant of his son; Miles from Earth-1610. He, already decided, was going to replace his variant and be happy living with the other version of his adored Miles. 

But there was a problem; that Miles already had a father, and it wasn't Miguel, nor his variant.

And that had made Miguel very angry.

So he still tried to replace his variant, to take him away and make him his own, his own son. Miguel had already tried several times, with other Miles, he had been able to be happy for a while with them, but in the end they always made him suffer. Until he could find the most similar version of his boy. 

He justified to himself that what he was going to do was for the greater good, he knew Miles very well, and he told himself that if he were like his father he could help him, advise him not to destroy everything. Transform him to be his Miles. But his mind blinded by longing and selfishness wouldn't let him see what he was doing. 

And just when he was about to feel again the love he once felt with his Miles, Miguel regretted it. He had not been able to carry out his plan, because, seeing him so happy with his family, with his father, he could not allow himself to hurt him. 

And so he took a great hatred to that Miles. 

It wasn't fair that Miguel was suffering for Miles and that the other Miles was living happily as if nothing happened. 

Every day he spent watching the other Miles and seeing him so happy without him, the feeling of hatred and anger consumed him deeply and every time he looked at him, he wanted to hit him, he wanted to make him suffer the same way he was feeling seeing him with someone else. 

Miguel tortured himself more and more by watching those videos that he had been able to record when he was happy with his first Miles. With his greatest treasure. And it hurt him, it hurt him to know that he would never be able to hug him again, to be able to smile at his silly jokes, at his weird but witty comments and to feel proud every time his Miles drew.

And to add insult to injury, Miguel spent most of his time in that dimension. Supposedly, to make sure that Spider-Man didn't damage the entire multiverse; that was his main excuse. 

He always sat in a building near Miles' school, where Miles spent most of his time, and watched over him, making sure to catch every action, every gesture, to record it in his memory, so he could soothe the heart of a grieving father. 

But that didn't mean he was going to stop hating him. 

Especially not when Gwen introduced Miles to him personally. 

When they had their first meeting, Miguel had felt so many emotions at once that he'd been so overwhelmed he'd punched him. 

He didn't mean to do it on purpose, but when he finally saw that face after a long time, all the memories came flooding back. The good ones had come first, from the first one when Miles was born, to the last one, which had been the day before the misfortune. And the good memories passed so quickly that the bad, the terrible ones managed to overwhelm him to the point of hitting him in the face that appears every damn night in his nightmares. 

When he saw the stunned, bloodshot look on Miles' face, that part of him, the part of him still suffering from the loss of the best person he could have loved, he felt bad. It had hurt that he had been the cause of his boy's suffering. 

For the second time, he had hurt him.

[...]

Miles knew he wasn't the best Spider-Man, he knew he made a lot of mistakes, he knew he almost destroyed the multiverse several times, he knew he was clumsy, and he understood that sometimes he was a pain in the ass. 

But what he couldn't understand was why Miguel disowned himself every time he was near him.

He always ignored the subject, telling himself that Miguel was like that, that he hated even his own shadow, but Miles knew there was more to it, it wasn't normal for Miguel to look at him with such disgust. 

And that hurt him. 

Miles looked up to Miguel as a role model, to the young Spider-Man, the adult was a fearless, brave and cool person. And he'd like to know what he was doing wrong to make the Latino uncomfortable and have his presence rejected. 

Hobie, Gwen, Pavitr and Miles, or better known as the tiny hopping spiders, emerged from the portal after a successful mission. There were complications, Hobie's guitar strings broke, and he had a prominent open wound on his forehead, Gwen twisted her ankle and had several scratches all over her body, Pavitr had a first degree burn on his right arm and Miles, who was the most reckless of all, had an arrow embedded in his right shoulder.

They walked slowly towards the infirmary, Hobie and Pavitr were helping Gwen walk and Miles followed behind them much slower, he was walking much more carefully because of the arrow, with the slightest movement, the arrow would move and it would hurt.

They had to report what had happened to Miguel so that he could return the anomaly to its original universe, but neither of them wanted to confront him. They didn't want to get another hour-long reprimand for almost putting the mission in jeopardy, and they didn't want to deal with his attitude, lately his mood was 2099 times worse. 

They were about to reach the infirmary, just a few more steps, and they could rest from the laborious work of trying to keep Miguel from discovering them. 

"But how wonderful to find you at last!" spoke a voice with mock excitement behind the teenagers.

Speaking of the devil.

The four young people turned to face the adult they had tried so hard to avoid.

“Miguel...” The teenagers said at the same time. 

Miguel's arms were crossed, his brow furrowed and his lips pursed. He was not in a good mood. 

Feeling a huge headache coming on, Miguel stroked his brow as he sighed in frustration. “What the fuck happened to you?” 

“We're fine!” Pavitr replied. “We just got a few scratches, that's all”. He smiled a little, trying to calm the tense atmosphere that was beginning to form around the four Spider-Men and one Spider-Gwen.

“If you guys were all right, par de idiotas, Morales wouldn't have a fucking arrow in his shoulder!” Miguel raised his voice as he pointed to the piece of wood embedded in his friend. 

“Yes, but-” Gwen was about to intervene, but was silenced. 

“I don't care what stupid excuse you're going to make, Stacy.” He turned on his own axis and began to walk. “Get into the infirmary, so you can be patched up.” 

The four of them hurried through the door, so they wouldn't be near the adult.

“Morales, you're coming with me.” And he lost himself in the crowd of mutants.

The other three looked at Miles with pity, none of them could do anything and gave him silent looks of support. His three friends were worried about Miles, this week Miguel had been scolding Miles a lot for stupid things and those two always ended up in fights. 

Miles winced at the arrow as he moved wrong. He looked at the door to the infirmary again and started walking very slowly and carefully towards Miguel's office. 

When he arrived, Miguel was checking something. Miles could hear some laughter and some male voices talking. The first voice he could easily recognize; it was Miguel's, but not the second. 

“You took your time.” He spoke softly as he closed the videos and turned to look at him. 

“Well, if you haven't noticed, I've got-” 

“I'm not interested.” Miguel faced him. Miles winced from time to time at the arrow, it needed to be removed now, it hurt like hell.

Miguel made a worried grimace at the sight of the boy's suffering face. He walked until he was face to face with the smaller boy. The difference in height was very noticeable, although the adult was not so tall in comparison to other people, at that moment he looked much taller on the contrary, as Miles was hunched over because the pain from the arrow made him shrink in between.

“I specifically told you not to go on that mission”. He began the reprimand. “And you listened to me?” Miles opened his mouth to object, but Miguel wouldn't let him. “No!” He raised his voice. Miles shrank in on himself more at the noise. All his senses were on overload, everything hurt. “Of course not!” He started pacing back and forth repeatedly. “You never listen to me!” He stopped walking and pointed his index finger at the boy. “Especially you, Morales! 

“But Miguel...” he answered in a very low, barely audible voice. If it weren't for Miguel's superhearing, he wouldn't have been able to understand. “I was supposed to be there, no, I needed to be there.” He corrected himself. “If it wasn't for my help, the mission would have been a failure!” He moved very abruptly when he said that last part, and the arrow moved, causing him a lot of pain. “If it hadn't been for my help, they would have been in worse shape”. 

Miguel was getting frustrated. He wanted to hit that stubborn boy over the head. He reminded him so much of his son.

For a microsecond, Miguel's angry gaze softened and changed to a sad one, looking at Miles Morales every time gave him a hollow feeling in his chest at the thought of him, but that was quickly erased and he resumed his typical ass look.

He looked again at the arrow embedded in Miles' shoulder, he knew it was wrong not to let him go to the infirmary and have that wound treated, but his selfish side wanted Morales to feel some pain, as Miguel was feeling every day he saw him. 

“But look how you're standing in front of me!” He pointed at the wooden arrow. “You have a fucking arrow embedded in your shoulder!” He reached out to touch the arrow with his hands. “And you want me to believe that everything went well?!”

More and more Miguel was getting angry, he couldn't control the urge to hit something, and Miles' face was getting more and more tempting by the second. His feelings were pushing him over the edge, Miles' recklessness and the fact that it's always such a difficult week for Miguel every year, didn't make it easy for him to control himself.

“It was just a few little mishaps, nothing more!” Miles was starting to get irritated, he didn't understand why Miguel always had to make trouble only for him, it was always "Miles, don't do stupid things", "Morales will ruin things, just go by yourselves" or "Morales is so immature, he always screws up". He was getting sick and tired of Miguel walking all over him, he could help, he could be useful. Miles didn't understand why Miguel thought only bad things about him.

"If it had been a 'little mishap' you wouldn't have this here." Without a care in the world, he began to move the arrow with two of his fingers from one side to the other rapidly. Miles writhed in pain and begged Miguel to stop, but Miguel ignored him and continued to move it. "For your stupidity, you deserve to have this left there. But," since the arrow had gone all the way through Miles' shoulder, the tip was on the other side, so Miguel split it on one side and pulled the other part out. "Because I'm good people, I pulled it out." He threw the split arrow into a bin. 

The boy had let out a yelp of pain.

Miles was kneeling on the ground, tears streaming rapidly from his eyes, and his opposite hand was pressing on the wound that was beginning to bleed. 

Miguel turned his back and climbed onto the platform to check his holographic screens. 

"Let that be a lesson to you." He didn't even look at him. " You can go now."

Miles, as best he could, tried to get up to leave, but his body was shaking from everything that had happened in such a short time that he fell back down.

"I..." Miles spoke with difficulty after a short moment of silence. "I don't..." He wiped away a trickle of snot that was running into his mouth with the hand that had his own blood on it. "I don't understand why you're like this with me...."

Miguel shrugged indifferently. "You're just a mistake, Miles. All you radiate is bad luck."     

"No." He shook his head slowly. "Every time you see me, every time I walk past you," He was feeling a little calmer now, starting to get up. "Every time I'm in your presence, you look at me in a way..." Miles thought for a moment. "In a way so horrible that I can't even put it into words."

Miguel was about to respond, but Miles wouldn't let him. 

"I know I'm stubborn, I know I don't listen." He was already fully erect, his hand still pressed against the wound that was dripping with crimson liquid. "But for you to treat me this way, I must have done something to you that deserves this." Miles pointed his finger at Miguel and then pointed to himself to show what he was referring to. Miguel was looking at him with a face that Miles couldn't quite make out, it was a mixture of anger, sadness and regret? Miles wasn't sure. "You tell me all the time what to do and what not to do. You nag me all the time, you correct me, you boss me around." Miles was getting everything he was feeling out, this situation was making him very unhappy. "You act like you're my father."

Miles was crying again, he wanted to get it all out, but knowing Miguel, he would insult him and scold him. As he always did. 

"Miles was about to say something important, but quickly regretted it. He let out a snort, looked away and wiped away his tears. "It doesn't matter now..." Miles turned his back on her and began to walk slowly towards the exit. "Thanks for the scolding... I guess."

[...]    

Today was an important day for Miguel, very important. Apart from the fact that they had a very important mission to accomplish, Miguel had something planned for later.

He had to go to Tokyo, from the universe-181415, because of a big anomaly that was wreaking havoc all over the big city. Miguel chose the best people for the job. He chose Gwen, Hobie, Peter B., Peni, and sadly Miles. Miguel didn't want to take him, but Peter insisted that Miles could be very helpful. Miguel wasn't so sure about that. 

After what happened between Miles and him, things had been very tense. Miles was always ignoring or avoiding him, and that bothered Miguel. 

Miguel didn't understand the teenager's rebellious attitude. How he responded to him that time, how now he always ignored him or didn't even turn to look at him. 'His Miles wouldn't do that,' Miguel thought.

His Miles was a good person, he had always been caring and very attentive to everything. His Miles always had a smile on his face and a positive attitude. On the other hand, with that other Miles it was the opposite, he was always doing stupid things, not following simple orders and defying authority. That other Miles was a mess, but if he let Miguel discipline him, that Miles would become his Miles, the Miles he was meant to be.

And that was what Miles didn't understand, every time he scolded him, Miguel did it for his own good.

Everyone had already gone through the portal. They had split up to find the anomaly faster, and Miguel was jumping between buildings. It was night, it was drizzling and all the lights in the whole city were blinding him from time to time. 

As he searched, Miguel finished planning what to do when the mission was over. He had already finished cooking what he was going to eat, he had already finished preparing the things he was going to take, he just had to change and head to the site and that was it. 

With each jump, he got closer and closer to where Lyla told him the anomaly was, a train station. He went into the underground and searched everywhere. He hadn't found anything. He stepped inside the train tracks and began to walk carefully.

Using a thermal imager, he searched for signs of any civilians trapped in the area. He had seen nothing until he heard the sound of explosions. Without a second thought, he ran towards the noise. 

He should have expected it, it was obvious those explosions were created by the reckless Miles Morales. He had told them before entering the portal that this mission was to be as subtle and quiet as possible. He didn't want the same thing to happen that happened with the Cancún mission two days ago. Miguel still had sand in his butt. 

When he got close enough to find out what was going on, Miles was using electricity to pull the anomaly back into the trap the frizzy-haired man had set. Miguel had to admit that if it wasn't for the small gas tanks behind the trap, Miguel would have let Miles finish the mission alone. But Miguel couldn't afford that because of another mistake by Miles, the mission would go down the drain. 

So he ran towards Miles, and before he could hit the anomaly with another charge of electricity, Miguel launched himself on top of him and knocked him to the ground. 

"Miguel?" Miles shouted in surprise from the ground. 

"You idiot, you almost blew yourself up!" Miguel shouted back. The rumbling of the anomaly was so loud that they had to shout to understand each other. 

"But I've almost got it figured out!" Miles stopped when Miguel had pulled himself off the top. "Just one more volley and we'd be done!" The two Spiders dodged the piece of metal that was thrown at them by the villain. 

Miles threw a web to the roof and climbed up. Miguel did the same to keep him close. 

"Don't be so reckless, Morales, and listen to me!" Miguel jumped up and punched him in the face. That made the villain unbalanced for a few moments. "Get out of here, and I'll take care of it!"

Miles, on the roof, stood behind the anomaly and delivered an electric shock to the back of its head. 

"But I can help!" Miles created bolts of electricity to make the villain back up and step on the trap. -Before you came along, I was doing just fine! 

"Stop being stubborn, Miles, and listen to me!" Miles kicked the villain in the knee. "Get out of here before you screw up like you always do!"

Miles was hurt by those words, but ignored them and continued with his plan. He concentrated on putting a large amount of electricity into his hands and when he felt he had more than enough, he threw all that power at the anomaly. 

[...]

Miguel felt a great pain in his left leg, the explosion had been very strong and very stunning. His ears were ringing and he felt dizzy. There was debris everywhere, the whole place was destroyed and there seemed to be a big hole in the roof. It had started to rain. As the memories had flooded into his mind, the dreadful fear began to grow in his chest. 

Miles.

No, it couldn't be happening again, it had already been two years since the accident. Why did he have to live it all over again? 

He started hyperventilating, his head was spinning now, he wanted to vomit. But he couldn't afford to have an attack now, his son needed him.  

Limping, he began to remove the chunks of concrete from the floor, hoping that his son's living body was nearby. He was already imagining the worst. 

"Pulga, where are you?!" Miguel was desperate, his son had gone to pick him up from work and this had happened. If only Miles hadn't expected it. 

His muscles ached, his hands were already beginning to bleed from the scrapes. But he had to keep going, his son was dying. 

It had all happened so fast, Miguel had fought with his partner, they had argued about the dangerous new project Alchemax was doing. His partner wanted to test it, but Miguel had told him that it was too dangerous, it was still a prototype, and they had to continue researching to make it safer. The other had not listened to him and tested it. After that, everything had been chaos.

"Dad!" Miguel heard his son's cry for help. He ran to the sound and was transfixed by what he saw. 

"Miles!" He found him under a large pile of concrete. He didn't appear to be conscious, and he didn't appear to be breathing. Miguel was alarmed. "No, no, no, no, no." Miguel removed everything and tossed it aside. He saw how the boy's chest was spurting blood. Everything was exactly the same, the situation was frighteningly similar. Miguel was about to cry. 

"What the fuck are you doing, Gonzalez?" He himself had his arm around his son's neck, holding him back. And to make matters better, he had a gun pointed at his boy's head. 

"You made me become this monster!" Gonzalez, having taken the serum they had been working on for a few months, was turning into a mutant. His skin was melting, he had bits of green scales on his face, and his bones had a bone or two popped out. "You're making me suffer," he pressed the gun harder against Miles' temple. "AND NOW I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU SUFFER!"

His son's face was shrouded in terror, he feared for his life and more for the life of his father. 

"You don't have to bring the boy into this, Gonzalez." Miguel approached slowly. He was already creating a plan to save his son, but he needed Gonzalez to point the gun at him. 

"I know you don't." For a moment, he released his tight grip on the gun and the boy's neck. "But I have to do it, so you learn that not everything can be happy all the time." And all at once, Miles reacted and pushed him to run into his father's arms. 

A shot had been heard.

Miguel had his hands pressed to the wound, tears splashing on Miles' suit. "Come on, boy, you have to wake up." He put a little more pressure on it to try to stop the bleeding. "Don't do this to me." He looked at his face, the face of the boy he once loved. "You can't do this to me again. Don't leave me alone, mi cielo" With one hand he caressed his cheek. It was stained again with that carmine liquid. 

Miles's face was expressionless, his muscles were all relaxed, he looked asleep, and Miguel didn't like that. His Miles had died with a face full of pain and suffering. Not this Miles. And it didn't seem fair to him. 

So he kept pushing. 

His son had been pierced by a bullet and was now moaning in pain in his father's arms. 

Michael had reacted in a beastly way. He let that part of him that he loathed so much control him to tear the bastard apart. Having been satisfied with his revenge, the rational part had returned, and he concentrated on helping his son.

"Dad..." A stabbing pain had made its presence felt in his abdomen. "... it hurts..." 

"Shhh... I know it hurts, pulga" He put some pressure on the wound. "You'll be fine, daddy's got it all under control."             

The explosion that Gonzalez's bastard had caused had wreaked havoc in the area. Some buildings were falling apart, several people were running in panic, but the invading Spider-Man of that dimension only cared about his son. 

He suspected that the bullet had gone all the way through his son's body, but he had to make sure. Big mistake, his son let out a scream of pain that made him more desperate. 

"Dad, I love-" Miguel didn't let him finish.

"No, pulga, don't start saying goodbye. You are not going to die, do you understand me?" He looked at him seriously, Miguel's son was not going to die and Miguel was not going to let that happen. "So don't say those words, you can say them when you feel better." He showed him a small smile that was bathed by cascades of tears. 

"Da... I-"

Coughing brought him out of his trance. He turned his full attention to the young Spider-Man's face. Now those inert muscles were coming back to life and doing the job of showing the discomfort and pain the 15-year-old felt. 

"Pulga..." Miguel cried harder as he saw that his "son" had woken up. It had all been just a dream, a horrible nightmare.

"Mig-what?" Miles was in pain, everything ached, his head was spinning, and his abdomen hurt like hell. What had happened?

"Ya, mi cielo, you're all right now, daddy's with you." 

"Mmhm... what?" Miles didn't understand what Miguel was saying. "... It hurts..." he said with difficulty. 

"Easy" Miguel shut up and prevented Miles from getting up. "Don't move, it will hurt." 

Miles said nothing and just did as he said. Miles just wanted his dad. 

Miguel was able to control the bleeding and disinfect as much as he could. He had called the rest of the group to come for them and the anomaly lying limp on its side. Although the mission was a success, Miguel was going to scold his "son" for being so reckless. 

Help had arrived, and Miguel didn't leave Miles' side for a second, not even by the time they were treating the wound in the headquarters infirmary. 

When they finished, Miguel waited in an armchair for Miles to wake up. They needed to talk. 

Miguel, because of his wounds, was falling asleep, but when he heard some groans he woke up with a snap and went over to the bed where the teenager was lying to see what he needed, if he was in any pain. 

Miles sat on the bed with Miguel's help, who carefully positioned the boy and handed him a glass of water. Miguel helped him again. 

"Thank you..." Miles said once all the water in the glass was gone. Miguel had only nodded and put the now empty glass back in its place. "What happened?"

Miguel frowned and spoke: "You did a stupid thing, that's what happened."

Miles cringed with embarrassment at the serious, angry voice in which Miguel had spoken to him. "And the anomaly?" 

"He almost died because of you." He said without a filter. 

"What?" Miles was stunned and looked down at his hands in fear. He had almost been responsible for someone's death. 

"I told you not to do that and when you didn't listen to me, look what happened." Miguel gave him a dirty look. "We almost died because of your recklessness."

"But-"

"No buts!" Miguel had started to shout. "That head of yours can't understand that this is a job of life and death!" He pointed his finger at him. "Every one of your actions, without fail, leads to someone getting hurt and missions being jeopardised!"

"But you know I don't mean any harm, Miguel!" Miles didn't want to fight with his boss again, his belly ached, and he just wanted his dad to hug him. "I'm always trying to help, Miguel!"

"And that's the damn problem, Miles! Your helping always leads to trouble!"

"That's not true!" Miles was angry now, Miguel had no right to say such things to him. He meant well. He just wanted to be useful. "I don't understand your mania for always nagging me about things. I'm sick of always being the bad guy in your eyes." Miles had stood up, though his body warned him not to, but he ignored it and faced Miguel. "For once couldn't you be happy with my performance? No matter the slightest mistake, you always manage to find it and blame me for it. Tell me once and for all why you get so disgusted at the sight of me! What did I do to you?!"

"YOU MADE ME SUFFER! THAT'S WHAT YOU DID!"

Miles froze. What was Miguel saying? 

"What?"

Miguel slumped down on the couch and with a look of sadness spoke. "You died in my arms two years ago. And..." His voice cracked a little. "And... every time I see you, you remind me of what I lost."  

Miles felt a stinging pain, so he sat down next to the adult. "What are you trying to say?"

Miguel sighed and looked at Miles. Miguel looked vulnerable, his eyes were on the verge of tears of pain and his body was trembling. 2In another dimension, you were my son, Miles."

What the fuck? Miles looked at him in bewilderment, his mind unable to process the words Miguel had just spoken.  

"At the time, I didn't have anyone until you came along. Well him." Miguel corrected himself. "I was new to the whole parenting thing, but I had the best son in the world who helped me learn about it." Miguel let out a small laugh at a memory that came to him. "You were the best thing that ever happened to me, I was the happiest father in the world to have you as my son. But..." His eyes darkened, and Miguel tried to calm himself so as not to burst into tears in front of the boy. "A wicked man snatched you from my arms, and my world perished before your departure." He blurted out those words with venom. "You had been taken from me, but I had discovered a way to get you back. And I was going to achieve my goal." The way Miguel had looked at Miles had made the boy pull back to protect himself. With everything Miguel was telling him, Miles was beginning to fear him. "You were the closest variant to my boy, and though you have a few mistakes, when you're with me, we can fix them, and you'll be the Miles I love so much."

Miles jumped away as he saw Miguel's hand approach his. "Look," Miles began to speak. "I'm sorry about your son, I really am. But I'm not him." Miles saw how Miguel had frowned at what he had said. And it was true, Miles was not the Miles that Miguel thought he was. He was a variant, and the word said so: in microbiology and virology, the term variant or genetic variant is used to describe a subtype of a microorganism that is genetically distinct from a major strain, but not different enough to be called a distinct strain. Yes, he may be physically the same as that Miles, but he was his own self. He had a different attitude and different tastes. And apparently Miguel didn't understand that. "You can't force someone else to change their identity just because you want them to. You have to understand that your son is gone and you can't replace him. That's wrong."

Miguel didn't like what Miles was saying. He just wanted his son back, was that so hard to understand? 

"Miles, you don't understand, I-"

"No!" Miles walked away when Miguel tried to stand up and approach him. "Stop thinking of me as a replacement for your son." Miles began to shout. "Your son is dead! Accept it! I won't be any replacement! I am me, understand!"

"Look, kid, don't talk to your father like that!"

"You're not my father, mierda!" Miles was already exasperated. "My father is Jefferson Davis, not you!" Miles pointed at him. "You'll never be my father!"   

And when those words hit Miguel's heart, he could finally understand why he hated the boy in front of him so much. He could finally understand that the source of the hatred was the defence mechanism he had unconsciously created by not accepting that his son was never coming back. That no matter what he did, his Miles was never going to come back to hug him when he got excited about something, or show him his various oil landscapes that he painted in his room, because his Miles was dead.

And what hurts the most is knowing that he will never be able to hold that beautiful child again. 

[...]

"Hello, pulga" 
There was a beautiful sunset in front of Miguel. The sky was painted in beautiful warm tones, the clouds were nice and fluffy and a gentle spring breeze made the surroundings more peaceful. 

Miguel was wearing casual, comfortable clothes. He had sat down in front of a small stone tablet that had small sunflowers planted around it.

"I brought you your favourite, look."  He showed him a small box of food, inside the box was his son's favourite food. "I know how much you love to eat this, so I brought it." 

He put the food in the box and began to eat, but first he put a bunch of sunflowers in a glass vase in front of the tombstone. "I know how much you love these flowers and I just stopped by a flower shop and bought them for you," he said. 

He began to eat as he watched the sky turn more orange. The breeze was swaying the leaves of the trees, it looked like a little choreographed dance, Miguel thought. 

To remember his son, Miguel created a small gravestone for him in a small forest outside the city of his dimension. Whenever he missed him or on special dates, like today, Miguel went to visit his son's grave. That way, he felt a little closer to him.

"There's a boy who sometimes gets on my nerves, you know?" He had spoken after he had finished eating. "He's very stubborn and reckless." He frowned a little as he remembered the stupid things Miles did on missions. He may have improved a little, but he's still an idiot. "He's a pain in the ass." He hadn't taken his eyes off the sky. He was enraptured. "But he's a good kid." He lowered his gaze to the gravestone and smiled. "You would have been good friends."

Miguel stayed a while longer, appreciating the sky and the sunflowers that followed the sun. 

"See you later, son." He stood up when it was already dark. He gathered all his things and with a last glance at the gravestone said, "You did a good job with the sky, pulga".