Title A Way to Help
Author Uozumi
Fandom Spider-Man (kind of a mix of comic, TV, and movies)
Character(s)/Pairing(s) Miles Morales, Harry Osborne, Ben Parker, May Parker, Peter Parker, Gwen Stacy, Mary Jane Watson; take the pairings as you will, there's nothing extremely shippy in this
Genre Alternate Universe/Crossover/Drama/Dreaming/Gen
Rating PG
Word Count 1,609
Disclaimer Spider-Man is copyright Marvel and its associated partners
Summary Peter Parker finds himself in a tangled nightmare of multiple universes where he relives his origin story. Luckily, Miles Morales has been working from the outside to help Peter break free.
Warning(s) coma dreaming, violence, canon deaths, spoilers for all Spider-Man movies and both Peter Parker and Miles Morales' origin stories
Notes I saw a post on Tumblr about Peter being trapped in some kind of time loop where he keeps having to repeat high school but it's slightly different every time in reaction to us getting yet another high school aged Peter Parker origin story movie. My brain just kind of ran with the concept of Miles breaking him out of having to go through the same origin story movie yet again.
Work Text:
A Way to Help
When Peter woke, he could not make out the numbers on his alarm clock, but the alarm told him it was five-forty-five. He found his glasses, ran his fingers through his hair, and rolled out of bed to start the day. He jumped when a second-hand smart phone buzzed on his dresser. He was not sure where it came from, he could not remember owning a cell phone, let alone a smart phone. He looked at the message. Gwen wanted to know if he had his part of the project done. He looked around his room. His Bill Nye poster was now Neil Degrasse Tyson and his mobile of planets had become two mobiles. There was one for planets and one or dwarf planets. Peter wanted to text back, "What project?" or even "How do I afford this phone?" but he texted back, "Yeah. Sure," instead.
In the shower, his mind wandered. He kept having nightmares for several nights now. He remembered them better than the days in-between. There were brief jolts of violent memory, trying to save Gwen and Mary Jane from interchangeable situations. His mind hopped rapidly between the images as though both were as real as the soap in his hands that fell to the shower floor when an image of Gwen with her neck broken appeared. He had not seen Mary Jane since last summer and Gwen was definitely still alive since she was sending him text messages. He heard the smart phone buzz again. When he finished the shower, he had a text from Harry, who was drowning in homework. Peter abruptly let go of his phone when he remembered Harry dying in his arms as adults followed swiftly by Harry struggling with addiction. The phone almost fell into the toilet but managed to ricochet off the seat and land under a set of shelves full of towels and washcloths.
When Peter went downstairs to breakfast, he froze in the kitchen doorway. Aunt May touched his arm on her way to put eggs on the table.
"Are you okay?" Uncle Ben asked from the table.
Peter's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He took a deep breath. The urge to tear up overwhelmed him, but he swallowed it down and looked away. "Yeah," he said quietly. One of the unifying things between all of his strange nightmares was Uncle Ben's death. It was always Peter's fault. He grabbed a glass and hunted through the fridge for the milk. It was in a large plastic gallon this time. He was not sure why he was looking for a carton. He poured himself a glass and settled at the table for breakfast.
Peter did not remember eating breakfast. Suddenly he was outside the school building. Students mingled around him. He saw a boy nearby who approached him slowly. Peter frowned. He thought he saw the kid before, but he could not place his name.
"Hey," the kid said, "I'm Miles Morales. I don't think you remember."
"Should I?" Peter asked.
"We've not met in person," Miles said. "We keep meeting here."
Peter's eyebrows furrowed. "We're in person right now," he said.
"Are we?" Miles asked.
Peter's breath caught. He could smell a sterile environment. He could hear faint beeping. Then someone put their hand on his shoulder.
"You okay, Pete?" Harry asked.
Peter blinked. Miles was gone. The weather was warm and he could smell the perfume and cologne of the students around them. He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I thought you weren't coming back until next year," Peter said. He put his glasses back on his nose. "Or maybe you never left."
"That doesn't make any sense," Harry said.
Peter closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them, he was on the bus heading on a field trip. He sat beside Harry. Gwen sat in front of them, but sometimes she was Mary Jane. Peter closed his eyes and tried to breathe through his nose. He tried not to think about how a lot of mental disorders began to manifest during puberty.
"Are you okay?" Mary Jane asked.
"Yeah," Peter grunted.
"You don't look okay," Gwen said.
Peter opened his eyes and looked at the girl in front of him on the bus. She was definitely Gwen Stacy right now. That made sense. Peter only saw Mary Jane when she visited his neighbors. He looked at Harry, but Harry was not sitting beside him. When Peter looked back at Gwen, they were standing in one of the Oscorp labs.
"Peter, are you listening?" Gwen's eyebrows drew together. "Are you okay?"
Peter looked around. The camera in his hand was a point and shoot DSLR. There was a scratched out name on the side of the camera from a previous owner. He frowned in confusion. He could have sworn his school newspaper camera was a film camera. He looked back at Gwen. "I'm…fine," he said. "Really." Peter did not want to worry her with all the weird things happening.
"Let's catch up with the others," Gwen said. She turned back to the group of students. None of them were defined except Gwen.
Peter hesitated. He was alone in the lab now. He felt a sharp pinch on his hand. He shook it and stumbled back. There was a mark on his hand and a spider scurried into the darkness. He could hear the faint beeping again, but it was faster now.
"Open your eyes," Miles said. "You can't stay here."
Peter looked around but he could not see anything. "My eyes are open," he said.
"Are they?" Miles asked. "Where are you?"
"I'm –" Peter's voice stopped. He rubbed the spider-bite on his hand, but it was no longer there. He blinked and he was in a dimly lit convenience store or maybe a dimly lit back room of somewhere. Peter looked at the door behind him. He could see the convenience store through it. The two rooms did not feel like they went together in his head, but he knew what was about to happen. "No."
"No what?" Miles asked. He stood in the corner of the back room. There were two other people with them, but Peter could not focus on their exact identities.
"I don't want to…" Peter's voice trailed. "I can't," he whispered. "I can't do this again."
"You don't have to," Miles said. He stepped forward. "You can stop this."
"But I don't stop this," Peter said. "I never stop this. I always end up kneeling over Uncle Ben. He always," Peter's voice grew thin, "dies."
"Because he died," Miles said. He sighed. "This is the death you can't avoid. You can't substitute someone else."
Peter could hear the faint beeping again. He breathed deeply through his nose. Everything smelled like a sterilized room. Tears stung. He opened his eyes. There was a bright light and Miles leaned over him. He saw this before somewhere in the myriad of nightmares. Peter closed his eyes again and swallowed a whimper.
There were nurses and doctors. Peter opened and closed his eyes, moving between a hospital room that was too bright and a sidewalk that was too dark, Uncle Ben dying in his arms. Peter opened his eyes and things stayed bright. The air stayed sterile. He began to recognize the nurses and doctors from other lapses of consciousness. His eyes shifted to the chair beside his bed. It was empty. He looked towards the wall across from his bed. Miles watched the medical personnel work, keeping out of their way. He looked young, younger than Peter was when the spider bit him years ago.
The medical team left once Peter was stable. Miles watched them leave and then he approached the chair slowly and looked at Peter. "Hey," he said.
"Hey," Peter said. He tried to sit up, but there were too many things attached to his body and he was in too much pain.
"The Green Goblin tried to kill you," Miles said. "You were still breathing. I brought you here."
"Thanks," Peter said. He watched Miles. "You're kind of young to be hanging out at a hospital."
"You almost died saving my family," Miles said.
A flash of the Goblin's mask flew through Peter's mind. He shuddered and took a deep breath.
"I should have been there," Miles said. "I could have helped you. I figured I could help you here instead." He showed Peter his wrist. The latent webbing caught the light in the room.
Peter's eyes moved from Miles' wrist to his face. He sighed. He could feel the weight of his brain perseverating on all the ways his life could have changed still hanging over him. He had faint memories of a life where Gwen appeared after high school and a different life where Harry came and went. He could remember his mind latching onto Mary Jane for hope and saving her from a situation he could not save Gwen only for everything to end with Harry's death anyway. He could remember all the ways Gwen could have died. He remembered all the ways Uncle Ben could have died as well. He looked back at Miles. The more he was aware of this room, of Miles, the more all the nightmares faded instead of rushed forward.
"Thanks," Peter said. He was not sure how long it would be until his memories sorted themselves. He closed his eyes and exhaustion tugged him back to sleep. He hoped when he woke up, he would be in the hospital and not in his bedroom hunting for his glasses.
The End