Chapter Text
Miles tightens his embrace. He’s not sure how long this goodbye will be for.
“I’ll get back as soon as I can,” he says, fighting back a stinging in his eyes. “I owe it to you.”
Miles G breaks the embrace and they pull back. “You owe me nothing,” he says. “I got to see my father again, thanks to you.”
“And I get to see him every day, thanks to you,” Miles says fiercely. He’s only known this other version of him from Earth 42 for two days—some of that time spent fighting—it’s crazy how much it feels like he’s saying goodbye to a brother, now.
“Not just me,” Miles G responds, his eyes drifting to the side. Gwen stands there, a distance off through the wreckage of the battle with Spot, watching them with the smallest of smiles. Miles has a hard time matching her smile. His stomach is a pit of anger and happiness and betrayal and gratitude when he looks at her.
“Right,” he says. “But I’ll figure this out. I’ll be back to help you with your universe.”
Miles G nods. “I’ll do my best in the meantime.”
They hug again, a goodbye for an unknown time. And then Miles G opens a portal and steps through it. The portals won’t work for much longer.
With that in mind, Miles goes to say his next goodbye. He passes a few Spider-People who are helping check on the containment for Spot. They don’t need to double-check it, but Miles doesn’t bother correcting them. He doesn’t have much time left. He can feel it. They’ll all be back to their homes soon.
“Hey Miles,” Peter says, sounding tired. Not nearly as tired as Mayday, who is out cold in his arms. And maybe not as tired as Miles who has barely closed his eyes in the last three days.
“Hey, Peter. Has Gwen given you an update on what we learned?”
Peter shakes his head. “Haven’t had the time to catch up. Before we do, though…I just want to say sorry.”
Maybe it’s because he’s so tired, but Miles gets strangely emotional from the simple word. Spoken with a far more genuine tone than he’s used to hearing from his old friend and mentor.
“I got caught up in it all,” Peter continues. “I saw a reason for all the hell I’ve been through in my life, and I liked the idea that it was unavoidable. Made me feel less guilty. Maybe I’d have questioned it more if I hadn’t seen an entire universe fall apart. I still don’t know why that happened, if not from Canon. But despite all of that, I never should have left you in the dark. I love you and I’m proud of you, and you deserved to know what we knew.”
Miles’ clears his throat of emotion. He’d pull Peter into a hug if he weren’t holding his baby. A weight seems to lift from him as he lets go of the anger at his friend. “Thanks, Peter. I get it…all evidence pointed towards Canon being required. And in some ways it is.”
“What’s this now?”
“You’ll see soon with my universe,” Miles says, looking to the side. “It’s what Gwen and I found out while we were hurtling through the multiverse. Canon doesn’t keep a universe intact. It keeps it attached. When you saw Miguel’s second universe disappear, it wasn’t being destroyed. It was being pulled from the Spider-Verse. Canon events are what created the strings of connection that Miguel’s technology used to traverse the multi-verse.”
Peter’s brow furrows. “Meaning, breaking Canon doesn’t kill you, but it does separate you.”
“I can feel it now,” Miles admits. “Saving my dad, being the ‘anomaly’ that I am, it’s too much to keep me connected to the Spider-Verse.”
Mayday makes a sad whimpering noise in her dad’s arms. He tries to soothe her, but Miles thinks the wetness in his eyes has more to do with Miles than his daughter’s brief discomfort.
“So…this is goodbye for good? For real this time?”
“Spot didn’t use the Spider-Verse to travel,” Miles tells him. Another thing he and Gwen discovered when they accidentally went beyond the Spider-Verse. “He has another method. And I have some ideas how. I think…I think I might be able to figure it out, with some time and with him caged up with his clues.”
Peter stands a little taller. “Well then I’ll just have to hold down the fort till you're back.”
“Hold down the…what?”
“Most of my Canon has already happened to me,” Peter says, smiling down at his little girl. “I’ll stay connected, help out the new, young Spider-People with their early tragic events. And then when you find your way back to us, I’ll be waiting so you can help them even after they’ve split from the Spider-Verse.”
A smile breaks through Miles' exhaustion. Peter didn’t just apologize to Miles—he’s going to make it right across the multi-verse. If Miles harbored any remaining anger or resentment, it evaporates. “Deal.”
Peter shifts Mayday so he can pull Miles into a hug. It’s warm and brotherly. Like it had been with Miles G. Something has shifted in their relationship—less mentor and mentee now.
Still, when they pull back, Peter has one last bit of advice. “I shouldn’t be your last goodbye.”
Miles’ stomach clenches. Peter’s right, of course. But he’s been putting this off for a reason. As painful as Peter’s betrayal was, it didn’t hurt like the same betrayal from Gwen. Miles is emotionally intelligent enough to understand why, he just doesn’t want to dwell on it.
He nods to Peter anyway and says his final goodbye, with a quick kiss to the head of the sleeping Mayday. And then Peter steps into his own portal home.
Miles’ Spider Sense tingles. Not much time. The inevitable separation from the Spider-Verse is close. He turns at last to Gwen, and marches toward her. Her eyes are already watery by the time he gets to her.
“So…” she says—ever the communicator.
“We did it,” Miles says, not willing to tell her what he needs.
She smiles. “I’m really glad your dad’s okay, Miles.”
He nods. Among the many things he feels towards Gwen right now, he has to at least acknowledge the gratitude. “Thank you for helping me.”
She shrugs. “You were right. You were always right.”
A beat. She’s acknowledged that more than once in these last two whirlwind days. As well as casting a little more light on her awful predicament. He’d already known she was in a difficult situation with her dad back home and a manipulative Spider Society. And he’d since learned even more how impossible it was. But that’s not what he wants to hear from her now.
At his silence, Gwen sighs. “I don’t know what to say,” she admits.
Say you’re sorry. Say you won’t hurt me again. Say I mean more to you than the people who actually hurt you.
“Guess I don’t, either,” he says.
It was so easy for Peter. So why not her?
Can she really not see how much she hurt me?
“I can feel it getting close,” she says. Damn her ability to feel his Spider Sense. It’s not fair to have all these reminders at how close they should be.
“My connection to the Spider-Verse is falling apart,” he confirms. They have seconds, not minutes. “I won’t be connected much longer.”
She shakes her head. “It’s ridiculous. You’re more Spider-Man than any of us are.”
She says things like that that make him feel so good. Her heroics over the last two days are so admirable. She’s strong and beautiful and bright when she lets herself be. It makes his heart race, stomach swoop. And the rest of it becomes so much more painful as a result.
“Yeah, well…the Spider-Verse cares more about events than our character, doesn’t it?” He balls his fists up while his Spider Sense grows in intensity. It’s never sounded so loudly.
She shakes her head. As they’d learned, Canon events were a means to an end. Shape all these heroes into the best versions of themselves by the same key victories and losses. But for Miles, the means matter. They matter very much.
“Well, you’ve fixed that,” she says. Her face grows steely. Maybe to combat their Spider Sense starting to roar with impending doom. “I know you’ll find a way back. To keep fixing it for others.”
She steps forward, arms lifting over his shoulders for an embrace. Miles isn’t sure what feelings he’ll have when he inevitably returns the hug. He doesn’t doubt all the old feelings of excitement and infatuation and happiness will flood into him. There was a time he would have wanted a kiss goodbye, and part of him still wistfully dreams of it. Frustratingly, she still manages to bring all that same joy to him. But it’s not just joy anymore—
Which is why, when she fades from his universe—hurtled back into her own by his world being torn apart from the Spider-Verse—he’s somewhat relieved. Her fingers had just begun to graze his shoulders. The butterflies had just started to flutter in his stomach. The anger and hurt had just begun to swell again. It would have been nice to hug her one last time, but it likely would have intensified the pain, too.
A silly thought. He lets out a shuttering breath as his eyes sting with the unceremonious loss of her. She’s gone. Just like that. No beautiful smile, no sparkling blue eyes, no wit or casual touch. Gone with an empty hug. Maybe that’s fitting. His Spider Sense is silent at last, but the ache he’s felt for these two days perseverates.
🕸️🕷️🕸️
Gwen Stacy takes in a deep breath as she walks on the ESU campus for the first time. She’s swung through it a handful of times, but today she walks with a backpack and books. The morning air isn’t quite cool. They’ve had a late summer heat wave—which always makes her Spider-Woman activities a little less pleasant.
Fortunately no city shenanigans pulled her away this morning. She really didn’t want to be late for her first day of college. She even managed to be early for once in her life. She pulls out her phone to open her gallery of images. Only a few images are stored in her favorites. An old picture of her and Peter working on a science fair project in elementary school. A picture of her mom before she passed. And a fairly recent picture of her and her dad at a ball game. Neither of them love baseball, but they had a great time together.
This morning she opens her most frequented picture. She’d taken it on a bus well over four years ago with the only real friend she’s made since Peter died. The printed out version is pinned in her room, forcing her to dodge joking questions about “the cute boy” from her dad. She’s told him enough; he can stop pestering her. It’s all worth it, though, so she can look at it every day before leaving her room.
He could be starting school like her. She needed to repeat her junior year of high school. She had been oddly content with repeating the school year. An extra year in her repaired home; thinking of matching Miles’ evolution into adulthood: it was…nice.
Sometimes she wonders if it’s time to take the picture down. Time to stop opening this image in her phone as often as she does. It’s been over three years since they said goodbye. Almost five years since the picture was taken. But those doubts don’t linger long.
She believes she’ll see him again. Sometimes she even thinks she can feel him. Their connection wasn’t dependent on the Spider-Verse. But something deeper.
She will see him again. She will finally have the time to rebuild what they’d lost. What she cost them.
She tucks her phone away, a smile on her face. Thinking of Miles always brings that smile, and a fierce determination. He’s gotten her through some tough times in these years, even without being present.
Before she can take a step towards her class building, though, her Sense tingles. Not with impending danger, but with something else. She can’t stamp down the excitement, even though she’s had false positives in the past. Instead, she dashes forward to the nearest building. Inside, she rushes to room after room. Locked, occupied, occupied…empty.
It looks like an office for the college’s administration team. They’re either not here for the day or have stepped out. It doesn’t matter. She’s alone. And if this feeling is what she thinks it is, then…
The air warps in front of her. She’s not sure what she’s expecting, but the red and black portal that begins to form isn’t quite it. It’s some combination of the chaotic energy of Spot’s portals mixed with shapes and structure from Miguel’s old portals. Portals that stopped working for her two years ago when she’d broken her Canon for the third time. She was not going to go through the whole Symbiote nonsense. New York hated her enough as it was.
She braces herself to see Miles again. He’s probably even taller. Probably more filled out. Probably more handsome. She can not make a fool of herself like the last time his maturity had caught her off guard.
But it’s not Miles who steps out of the portal. She tries and fails not to feel disappointment, because the man stepping through is also a sight for sore eyes. She manages after a moment to push Miles from her mind.
“Hobie!”
“Gwendy!” he laughs with open arms. Two years was too long to be separated from his chaos, so she rushes into his hug.
Maybe she should catch up a little more before her next question. But she can’t help herself. Pulling back from their hug, she asks, “Did Miles figure it out?”
Hobie’s cool demeanor shakes just a little at that. He throws on a grin. “Straight to business, yeah? No ‘how you been, Hobes, missed your pretty face’?”
She rolls her eyes. “How you been?”
He chuckles before answering her original question. “Course he did. Man’s figuring it out. Gettin’ the whole lot back together, innit.” He looks around the room and quirks his eyebrow at her. “What, too busy joinin’ the establishment to roll through?”
She scoffs. “College is the establishment now?”
“Part of it, yeah. You don’t need that, Gwendy. You know it.”
She laughs. “Only you wouldn’t be proud of the way I got my life together.” She interrupts his next rebuttal—no doubt about ‘society’s definition of a together life’ —because as fun as catching up with Hobie is and as important as her first day of college is, they’re nothing compared to who is on the other side of the portal. “Come on!”
She pushes past Hobie and into the portal.
“Oi, hold up. Might not be what you’re—” Hobie starts, but it’s too late. She’s already through time and space.
The brief space between universes is different now. Somehow more and fewer colors at once, more expansive and tighter. It’s over in the blink of an eye, and she’s through to the other side.
Hobie joins her a moment later. “Still using Miguel’s old HQ?” she asks, taking in what used to be the control room. The Go-Home machine is gone. Instead, multiple Spider-People are clacking away at monitors. She scans them quickly. She’d be more interested in their role here and what this new society is up to, but she’s looking for one person in particular. Other questions will have answers later.
“Miles is here, right?” she asks, figuring she should check her assumptions. Why wouldn’t he be here? “He didn't just get this going again and then bounce?”
Hobie doesn’t look like the perpetually at-ease friend she’s used to. “Yeah—Miles—he brought us all back together. Just…”
They’re interrupted by another voice coming from behind her. It’s a bit deeper, but unmistakably his. Hobie’s eyes flit over her shoulder.
“Oh, Hobie, you’re back. Did you have time for Earth-593 yet? If not, I was thinking I’d—”
Gwen spins around, and Miles stops speaking. He’s ten feet off, frozen in his tracks. His eyes widen. Beautiful hazel eyes. His face is less rounded, sharper jaw. His hair is a little shorter, but he fills the space with added height easily. His shoulders may have broadened even further, but his chest and arms have caught up. He perfectly fills out his spider-suit, which has lost the bleeding armpits. The remaining red splashed on black flatter him just right.
“Miles!” she calls out, and rushes forward. Like so many years ago, she can’t restrain herself. She needs to feel him in her arms. It’s been a desperate need since she was pulled from his universe a few seconds too soon, and was left hugging empty air in the middle of her New York.
He lets out a grunt when she launches herself at him, arms over his shoulders. He’s here, He’s real. He’s back.
After a few moments, she realizes he’s stiff in her embrace. She almost pulls back to get a closer look, but then he melts into her hug and his arms wrap around her. One warm hand holds her at the small of her back, while the other travels up her back to hold her where her shoulder meets her neck.
“Hey Gwen,” he says shakily, and pulls her even tighter against him.
She breathes him in. Breathes in the moment she’s been waiting for for so long. He fills a piece of her that had simply been left empty for all these years. “I missed you so much,” she says. “Always knew you’d figure it out though.”
He doesn’t reply. It reminds her of their goodbye, so long ago. Stilted. Too many things unsaid. She couldn’t get a read on him then, and she certainly can’t now. There wasn’t enough time to say all the things she wanted to say. For two whole days, she hadn’t found the time. How could she have, with just a single minute for their farewell?
She pulls back finally, ready to find the time and the words she never could before. She’s spent enough time ruminating on how she could have spoken to him, hopefully she’ll find her voice.
He drops his hands from her. It’s embarrassing how much she immediately misses them.
“How have you been?” she asks softly.
He clears his throat and takes a small step back. “Good. Yeah. You?”
There was a time when she could read exactly what was going through Miles’ head—right down to the feelings he held for her. Today, she can’t get a read on him at all. Had she lost the ability? Or maybe she’d never had it, and Miles just isn’t as open toward her anymore. Her heart thumps with worry.
“Same,” she says. “I was about to start my first day of college.” She offers a small smile. “This felt more important.”
“That’s great.” He nods, eyes flashing to Hobie behind her. “Maybe we shouldn’t have bothered her.”
She turns around to see Hobie’s reaction. Clearly there’s more going on in this conversation than she realizes. Hobie stands cooly, arms folded, staring back at Miles. The way he used to look at Miguel.
“Come to see my mate,” he says. “I was done waitin’, yeah?”
She turns back to Miles, whose lips are drawn into a thin line.
“How…how long have you been back?” she asks, fearing the answer. If it’s any more than a day or two…
“A few months,” Miles says in a pained voice.
“Months is kind of a long time,” she says without thinking, the echo of Miles’ own words sounding loud in the large control room. Only now does she remember there are several other people here, witness to her sinking heart. “Did you not have a path to 65?”
It’s a foolish hope. That he’d only delayed seeing her because he couldn’t see her.
He stays silent, even if he flinches at her question. Her sinking heart shatters.
“Oh,” she says. Tears spring to her eyes. “Oh, I see.”
Payback. Or worse…he’s just done with her. She starts trembling uncontrollably. Even Miles’ arms around her wouldn’t be able to stop it, but he doesn't offer them anyway. She turns sharply.
“Hobie, get me back home please.”
“Hold yourself, Gwen…” he starts, but Gwen can barely hear him over the rush in her ears.
“Now, Hobie. Please!”
She can’t be here anymore. She can’t feel the crushing weight of everything out here in the open. She’d always known deep down this was possible. Miles wouldn’t forgive her; he wouldn’t be here with the open arms she dreamed of. She deserves it, so she’ll concede. She'll stay away if that's what he wants.
Hobie raises his wrist and types something into the watch there. He throws a dirty look over Gwen’s shoulder.
“Gwen, wait,” Miles says behind her.
No one else would have the power to keep her here. But he still does. She turns around, wiping at her eyes and cheek. His face is a torrent of emotion too varied for her to read. But she sees regret and pain. He didn’t enjoy hurting her. Of course he didn’t. He’s Miles.
“I didn’t—You’re still the best there is,” he tells her, stumbling a little over uncertain words. “There are a lot of new Spider heroes out there that could use your help. You know…not repeating our mistakes.”
She’s not sure what this is. A peace offering? A chance to prove herself to him? Or simply an acknowledgement that whatever they were is over, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be a part of what this new society is all about.
Whatever it is, the smallest bit of hope blooms in her. The warmth of his hug wasn’t fake, even if it was hesitant. The regret on his face is real. This invitation isn’t being rescinded.
Everything is possible.
She nods at him. “I’d like that,” she says with a sniffle.
He swallows, eyes pinned to hers for too long. Then he turns to the side where people are watching them instead of their monitors. “Get her a watch,” he says. “I’ll…uh…see you around, Gwen.”
Then he turns on his heel and walks away. She watches him go, as confused and hurt as she’s been throughout this whole conversation.
“Don’t mind him, Gwendy,” Hobie tries to be helpful. “Younger’s still gotta grow up a bit.”
She makes a decision. If that’s true, and he just needs a little time, she’ll wait. She’s waited all these years with the hope she borrowed from him. What’s a little while longer?
🕸️🕷️🕸️
“It’s been months,” Peter groans. Several months.
“Let ‘em figure it out, mate,” Hobie says, legs kicked up on the console. They’ve got the control room to themselves tonight. Intentional on Peter’s part. Just the three of them.
“Miles isn’t going to figure it out,” Miles G says. He’s not the regular to the Spider Society that most of them are, but he comes now and then to help Miles figure out a particularly tricky mission. And he’s here now at Peter’s invitation.
“Then let ‘em not.” Hobie shrugs. “Pushin’ it’ll only make ‘em bolt.”
“All I know,” Miles G says, “Is that Miles got seriously mopey when she came back into his life. Miles! Eternal ball of sunshine Miles, in case that wasn’t clear.”
“Gwen’s no better,” Peter says. “Not that I would know. She barely talks to me.”
“‘Cuz you’re on his good side, innit? He forgave you, but not her? Bit twisted.”
“I have a very forgivable face,” Peter says. But truthfully, he’s as confused as everyone. He turns to Miles G, who raises his hands.
“Not my place to say—not that Miles is all that open about it. It’s the one thing he always wants to talk about but will never talk about. Just turns into complaints about how good she is at this.”
Peter nods, looking at the monitor. “The only one who has more successful missions than her is Miles. Don’t these two have lives?”
“No,” Miles G scoffs. “The only living Miles does is vicariously through me. Always asking what Princeton is like. Spider Society is his life now. It’s getting annoying.”
“Gwendy deferred her college start, too,” Hobie admits, and finally takes his feet down. “Was proud of her at first. Now I wonder if she’s deferred livin’, not just school.”
Peter cheers internally—he told himself he wouldn’t go through with this unless he got the two people closest to Miles and Gwen to agree to it. He wasn’t sure he could get Hobie on board.
“They need to work it out,” he says. “But they won’t listen to us when we say they need to work it out.”
Hobie tilts his chin. “What’s this you’re plannin’ then?”
Peter enters a few keys on the keyboard. The monitor pulls up Earth 777. “New Spider,” he explains. “Bitten a bit later than most of us. His ASM-121 Canon Event is coming up soon. I suggest we put Miles and Gwen on the mission to stop tragedy. Together.”
“Bit close to home for them, don’t you think?” Miles G says, leaning forward in his chair as he takes in the information on screen. ASM-121: a Spider loses the first love of their life. Meant to teach Spider-Man some level of humility among other hard-fought lessons. And one of the most common “first loves” in the Spider-Verse are other variations of Gwen, dead at the hands of Goblin.
If Peter is right, fear of this Canon Event played a real role in Miles’ and Gwen’s tenuous dance between friends and more-than-friends years ago.
“Gwendy’s taken plenty of these missions,” Hobie says with a wave of his hand. “Gwen Stacy isn’t the only ASM-121 victim out there.”
“But she hasn’t taken these missions with the first love of her life,” Peter says, his one reservation with the plan. “It could go poorly.”
“Or it could be the kick in the ass they need,” Miles G says. “Besides, they’ve both broken their Canon. Anything that happens to them now isn’t something pre-determined. What are you thinking, Parker?”
“The Event takes place during a poker tournament, of all things,” Peter explains. The monitor shows a nice hotel in Atlantic City. “What better way to protect Spider-Man and his love than posing as another young couple at the tournament getting close to them? They disrupt the Canon Event…and as a nice little bonus, they spend a few days in close proximity to finally work through their nonsense.”
Hobie whistles. “Think they’ll go for it? Pretending to be a pair?”
Peter takes a deep breath. “I’m sure either of them could take this mission solo—but they’re used to team-ups, too. And every time I get these two in the same room, they look at each other like love-sick teenagers—at least as long as the other isn’t looking at them. If my read on them is right, they’ll be hesitant outwardly. But…”
Miles G grins. “But inwardly, they’ll be desperate for the chance to be close to each other.”
Hobie kicks his feet up again. “I’m in,” he says. “Only if they’re on board without convincing, yeah?”
And so the game is on.