What’s Up, Danger?

Miles ran through the halls, dodging people and trying desperately not to trip as the bell rang for third hour.

You’d think that being bitten by a radioactive spider and getting better reflexes would help you run and balance better.

His shoes squeaked as he slid the last few feet to his class.

The hallway was cleared of people, so he knew he was late. The security guard would be around at any moment. He just had to-

He gasped as a wave of pain hit him. His hand left the door knob and went to his chest. His chest that felt like someone was stabbing it with a rusty knife.

His head spun and the door in front of him almost seemed to warp into a rooftop.

The rooftop and the door glitched back and forth and he heard a voice calling his name.

“Miles!”

He looked up as much as he could, face screwed up in pain.

Gwen was staring at him from the roof and she glitched with it between the door.

He tried to say something, anything, but his voice was caught in his throat. All he could do was gasp for breath as his chest tightened.

Gwen reaches out for him and he tried to grab her hand, but then it was over and he was staring at the door to his third hour class instead of Gwen.

His head throbbed and he felt sick.

Maybe no class today, he thought hazily.

———

Peter B. Parker woke up worried.

He still didn’t know what was happening with Miles. Gwen hadn’t gotten back to him yet.

He got up and got breakfast and did his best to have a normal day.

Whenever his phone rang, he grabbed it immediately to see who was calling.

Finally, around 11 he picked up the phone to see Gwen’s contact.

He’d never answered a call faster.

“Gwen!” He exclaimed. “Did you find something?”

“No,” she answered. “Do you remember what roof you were on?”

Peter thought back. “Uh, I think the US Bank Building.”

“Okay, maybe that isn’t a factor, then.” Gwen muttered.

“Wait, did you see him too?” Peter asked anxiously.

He’d never admit it, but he did care for the kid. The few days they’d spent together had honestly been one of the best times in his life.

“Yeah,” Gwen answered. “But it was the Williamsburg Building, not the US Bank.”

Peter started pacing wearing a path in the carpet of his apartment. “So what do we do?”

He could hear Gwen’s frustration through the speakers. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I still haven’t figured out how to travel dimensions without destroying the multiverse, so we can’t investigate directly. And Miles isn’t answering the phone.”

That stopped Peter in his tracks. “He isn’t?”

Miles always answered the phone eventually. Not always the first time you called, but he always called back or got back to you.

“No,” Gwen said, worry permeating her voice. “He always at least calls back.”

“So, something’s definitely wrong, then,” Peter said. “How fast can you figure out that dimensional transportation thing?”

Gwen groaned. “It’s really frustrating. I don’t know. Could be a week, could be years.”

Gwen was putting on a cocky, brave voice, but he could tell she was shaken up by what she’d seen.

“Could you get Peni to help you?” He asked.

“Duh!” Gwen said. “I hadn’t even thought of that. Jeez.”

“Well, get to work, genius,” Peter said. Despite his worry, he found himself smiling.

“You got it, old man.”

Before he could protest the new nickname, she hung up, her laughter ringing in his ears.

A second later his euphoria failed and he remembered the context of the call.

The door opened and in walked MJ, back from her job. She saw his stormy face and the phone still in his hand and put two and two together. And since it was MJ, it made four.

“Was that Gwen?” She asked. “Is something happening? Do you need to leave?”

“Yes, yes and yes,” Peter said. “Problem is, I can’t leave.”

“Gwen hasn’t figured out that transporter thing, huh,” MJ said, shutting the door behind her and coming to stand next to him.

“And we really need it,” he said.

MJ led him to the coach and they snuggled up in the corner.

“This must be so hard for you,” MJ said, hugging his arm. “I know how close you and Miles are.”

“And I can’t get to him,” Peter complained, punching the pillow next to him. “He was in pain, MJ. All I could do was watch. I couldn’t help him!”

MJ grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss. When they broke apart, she smiled at him.

“You care about him so much, and you’re working to help him. That’s all you can do right now, and eventually it will help him.” She said quietly.

Peter nodded vaguely, smiling back at her.

It felt so nice to have some real support after a few years of nothing. During the years of the divorce, he’d suppressed all his depression and stress and told himself everything was fine. He was fine.

Now, happily married to the love of his life with not one support, but an entire- excuse the pun- web of supports, he recognized that all those years were unhealthy.

He just hoped they’d succeed so Miles could know that he had a support system too.

------------------

Miles hazily made his way back to his dorm.

The pain wasn’t fading as easily as last night, and his head still felt like someone was squeezing his brain in a blender.

The door opened easily and he nearly collapsed into his bed. His free hand groped around for his phone, which he’d left in some pocket in his backpack.

He eventually found it and pulled it to him, turning it on and immediately regretting it.

The light sent a stab of pain through his temples and he almost cried out before he caught it in his throat and managed just a loud groan.

He squinted at the screen and saw the time.

How was it 1:38 already? Wasn’t it just third hour? Third hour started at 9:45. There was no way it had taken him that long to get back to the dorms.

Miles shut off the phone and opened his eyes warily.

Then, he shot up, pain rushing through him, ignoring it as best as he could.

Instead of the small room he shared at Visions, he was looking at the familiarly postered walls of his room at home.

Hadn’t he been going to the dorms? How had he gotten so off course that he was home in Brooklyn?

He laid back down, squeezing his eyes shut with a groan. His brain hurt from all this thinking.

“Ay dios mio,” he gasped as another wave of pain shot through him.

Suddenly he realized he was sweating, even though he felt cold.

So that’s what this was. Just a fever. It was getting to be flu season, he’d probably caught something from someone at Visions.

The sound of keys jangling in the hall brought him out of his stupor.

Miles’ senses had become much more sensitive when the spider bit him. It didn’t affect him too much, but now it was killing him.

He could hear every breath the person- his mom, he realized, her shift got off about this time- was taking and every time her key ring moved, the clinking of keys sent throbbing shots of pain though his head.

He groaned as a particularly painful throb stabbed him.

“Who’s there?” His mom called.

He cursed quietly and then struggled to his feet. He swung the door open to see her in the doorway, feet spread apart and looking ready to either run or punch someone.

When she saw him, she relaxed, breathing out in relief.

“Oh, it’s you,” she laughed. Then, “Wait, what are you doing home?”

Miles’s legs chose that moment to buckle underneath him. He tried to catch himself on the doorknob but his fingers slipped and he hit the floor. That would probably be bruised in the morning.

“Mijo!”

His vision was blurry for a few seconds, and when it cleared, she was on her knees next to him, fussing over him.

“Mijo, tú enfirma?

He hissed at her voice so close to him and she drew back.

“You have a fever and probably a huge headache,” she said, bringing her voice down low to a whisper. “Let’s get you in bed, mijo.”

She helped him up and into his room.

His knees felt really shaky and his head was hurting more by the minute. His entire body felt weird, like something was scrambling his atoms somehow.

Was this how all the other Spiders felt when they were here? Cause this sucks.

But he was in the right dimension, right? He hadn’t left New York or encountered any of those portal things before now. Peter had started glitching almost immediately.

His head hurt too much to think.

His mom pulled back the covers and helped him into bed.

“I’ll be right back.” She kissed his forehead and left the room.

The door had barely closed before the portal thing happened again.

This time the place he saw was a cartoon-y world. In front of him was Spider-Ham, that pig with the voice that reminded Miles of John Mulaney.

The pig said something, or at least Miles assumes he did, because the buzzing in his ears drowned everything else out.

Miles barely took that in as he curled in a ball.

It ended pretty quickly, and when Miles finally looked up, he saw his mother staring at him in horror.

She brought her hands up to her mouth, thermometer and Advil falling to the ground.

“Mijo-“

And that’s when Miles blacked out.