Chapter Text
It was official: the universe did hate him, Miles thought morosely.
He rubbed the back of his hand that had been bitten by the weird-looking spider that made itself a home in a dark corner of his uncle’s apartment. The terror and confusion he felt after falling out the window and then walking across the wall didn’t disappear, but they diminished enough to allow misery to set in.
This just wasn’t his day. Week. Year.
His shoulders slumped even further as Miles slowly dragged his feet from the Visions Academy (the place where he was a friendless loser barely keeping himself from cracking under pressure) to his uncle’s home. He clambered up the fire escape, resolutely not thinking about the fact he probably no longer even needed stairs or ladders, and pulled the window up.
His uncle wasn’t there, which Miles had expected. He had tried to call Uncle Aaron when he ran away from the academy, but all he got was one of those ‘out-of-town’ voicemails that meant his uncle was working.
Well, ‘working’.
Almost against his will, his gaze was drawn to an unremarkable patch of the floor. It had been scrubbed clean weeks ago but Miles could still remember the dark shape lying there in a puddle of blood.
Miles didn’t want to go to the Visions Academy. Going to some rich kid school and leaving his friends behind? Ugh.
But he didn’t want to disappoint his parents either, even if the more they pushed at him, the more annoyed and resistant he became. Miles was almost ready to cave in and accept, but he still wanted a second opinion.
So he went to see Uncle Aaron.
Except he probably should’ve called first because it looked like Uncle Aaron wasn’t home.
Miles looked up at the dark windows of the familiar apartment and sighed heavily. He should probably go back home, but he had just got into an argument with his dad and he didn’t want to return when the tempers were still high.
…Well, Uncle Aaron wouldn’t mind if Miles spent the night at his place, would he? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time Miles had crashed on his couch.
Decision made, Miles climbed up the metal ladder. The window was open and he peered curiously inside. Was his uncle home after all?
“Uncle Aaron?” Miles called, keeping his voice soft in case his uncle was already asleep. “Are you here?”
There was no answer.
Miles scrambled over the windowsill and nearly fell into the potted plant standing in the corner.
“Stupid plant,” Miles grumbled. He should probably move it to avoid tripping over it again.
Then he took one good look inside the apartment and all thoughts fled from his mind.
“Uncle Aaron!” Miles screamed and rushed towards the dark figure lying limply on the floor. Was he hurt? Unconscious?
A faint metallic smell of blood made his heartbeat skyrocket. Miles dropped to his knees and reached out to shake him awake, “Uncle A-”
The words stuck in his throat when a clawed metal gauntlet grabbed his outstretched hand in a bruising grip.
Miles stared into the glowing white eyes of the masked villain he recognized as the Prowler (not the most notorious of Spiderman’s foes but still rather infamous) and felt his mind fill with static.
He… didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to put the pieces together.
The claws loosened and slid off, hitting the floor with a too-loud clatter.
“…Miles?”
Hearing his own name in that rumbling, distorted voice felt like a knife through the heart.
“Uncle Aaron…”
Miles sighed heavily and forcefully shook off the memories. He didn’t like dwelling on that night but it kept drifting to the forefront of his mind. It probably wasn’t the worst way to find out that his uncle was a criminal of the masked variety but it was still nowhere near good.
Then again, was there a good way to learn something like this? Miles highly doubted that.
After helping Uncle Aaron stitch a ragged cut under his ribs that he claimed looked worse than it really was, Miles had no idea what to do with himself.
He didn’t want to talk, could barely look at his uncle, the crushing weight of something that felt like betrayal sitting cold and heavy in his chest. He couldn’t go home and face his parents (it felt like they would know, take one look at him and somehow realize what happened). He couldn’t go to sleep and pretend that everything was fine.
And he couldn’t just stand there and let his thoughts spiral into endless misery, so Miles grabbed a wet rag and started to clean.
He kept his mind carefully blank as he wiped congealed blood from the floor. Some of it had already dried, forcing Miles to scrub it off. He settled into a mindless rhythm that was only broken by his uncle’s voice.
“I think it’s already clean, Miles.”
It felt like waking up and Miles suddenly became aware of the dull ache in his hands. How long had he been kneeling there, scrubbing the same patch of the floor over and over and over again?
Miles slowly stood up and felt himself shake a little. His head was full of static, barely formed thoughts drifting beneath the surface like sharks in the ocean and with just as many teeth. Questions, accusations… So many things he wanted to say but was afraid to give a voice to.
He stumbled towards the couch where his uncle was lying and collapsed on the floor between the scattered pieces of the Prowler’s gear. He tugged one of the clawed gauntlets closer and stared blankly at the crusted blood covering its metal surface.
“Miles…”
He felt Uncle Aaron rest a hand on top of his head and for one terrible moment Miles didn’t know if he wanted to lean in or jerk away.
“What else have you been hiding?” he whispered. “How many things did you lie to me about?”
“I love you, Miles. I never lied about that.”
Miles felt his eyes burn and finally leaned into the touch. “…I love you too.”
That wasn’t a lie either.
Since then, things between them stayed tense and awkward. Miles wasn’t going to call the cops on his family but he couldn’t just pretend that nothing had changed.
He still visited Uncle Aaron, probably even more often than before, but it was no longer to ask for advice or just to hang out. With the shadow of the Prowler hovering above them, there was nothing else Miles could talk about.
“Why?! Why don’t you just quit?!”
“It’s not that easy, Miles,” Uncle Aaron said, his voice quiet and filled with guilt. “I’ve tried to stop before but I’m in too deep now.”
Miles slammed his hands on the table, “That’s just an excuse! ‘Cause it sounds like you either don’t want to quit or you’re just giving up! And I’m not gonna support that!”
He hated the look Uncle Aaron gave him in return. ‘Silly kid, the world doesn’t work like this.’
“I can’t quit, Miles. I can’t. The Kingpin knows who I am. If I refuse him, especially now… I can’t let him take it out on you. Or on Jeff and Rio.”
“So… that’s it? You’re just gonna keep doing his dirty work for the rest of your life?!”
“…I’m sorry, Miles. I’ll try, but that’s all I can promise.”
Miles felt disappointment settle over his shoulders like a heavy weight. He didn’t know how long he would be able to keep doing this if his uncle refused to meet him in the middle.
He sighed heavily and walked towards the window. If he wanted to get back to Visions before the curfew, he should probably leave. (And it wasn’t like there was any point in staying when his words clearly weren’t enough. When he wasn’t enough.)
Miles pulled the window open – and felt pinpricks of pain at the back of his hand. He jerked his hand away with an annoyed hiss and swatted the spider that bit him. He carelessly threw the dead spider outside and headed back towards Visions.
He didn’t give it a second thought until the next day when he grew half a foot and started to stick to everything he touched.
Miles huddled miserably on the couch. At this point he wasn’t even surprised that the spider that bit him wasn’t a normal one.
He supposed he should probably go outside and look for it but he didn’t think he’d be able to find one tiny spider in a barely-lit alley. And he felt so tired…
Miles could feel his eyes starting to close. Despite everything he now knew about his uncle, he still felt safe here.
He just wanted to rest. The spider could wait until morning.