Inspired by Everyone scares the crap out of Miguel by flylittleswan, professionalwaterbender in Archive of Our Own.

This is my first contribution to this fandom and is based on oscorp-lawsuit's tumblr post.

The Spider Society headquarters was eerily silent during the night. It contrasted the hustle and bustle during the day when the Spider-folk gathered to mingle in-between superhero work in their dimensions. Only a handful stayed, mostly those recuperating at the infirmary or simply wanting a night away from their stressful lives as superheroes. The knowledge of belonging in a place with similar people was a comfort - it helped drive away nightmares that tended to plague the Spider-folk. It was safe here, too - they need not worry about enemies sneaking during sleep.

While Miguel O'Hara did not particularly hate the lively chaos during the day, he preferred nighttime. It was quiet - he need not avoid the blinding sunlight nor witness how the crowd instinctually parted for him like he was Moses about to cross the Red Sea. He differed from them, even more so than the kid he once called an anomaly. He was neither bitten by a radioactive spider nor had Spider-Sense. He had traits that they did not have - ones one could argue made him look more feral and monstrous compared to them.

Miguel was still a Spider-Man, yes, but the lack of instinctual recognition between him and the rest made the gap more obvious. He had learned to live with it since the first weeks of the Spider Society's inception and would not let it disturb his job as the leader. He did very detailed research on the capabilities and needs of the superheroes and applied them to the construction plans for the headquarters. LYLA still kept the records in her database. Despite that, he remained unprepared about the occasional oddities shared by the others.

It was a routine night, and Miguel finally stepped out of the command room for coffee. He still had a pile of work to do - reviewing official documents from the city, monitoring the presence of anomalies, and watching out for any backup requests from the other superheroes. Of course, he did not expect it to stop at one point - the weight of his role was not something he could simply shrug off. So, here he was, walking past the crisscrossing pillars with a steaming beverage on hand that would have killed him for overconsuming if he were still wholly human.

"LYLA."

Miguel's voice bounced against the vast emptiness around him. There was no soul in sight - the calming silence and the distant city lights kept him company during these still hours. His holographic companion popped on his shoulder, utterly unamused at being summoned that late at night. Her orange-yellow glow barely illuminated the walkway he was on. Not that Miguel needed it - he could see perfectly in the dark.

"Summarize and compile today's reports. See if we can finally find a pattern on the appearances of the anomalies."

"Uh-huh," LYLA peered beneath the bottom rim of her sleeping mask. Her usual outfit was exchanged for comfortable sleeping wear. "Then, get broody if I don't find any. Again. For the five thousand, fifty-sixth time. Sure, I'll get to it." She crossed her arms, tapping her foot on an invisible floor. "You do know there's this wonderful thing called sleep. Maybe you should try it sometime. Better if regularly."

"No."

"I'll sing you a lullaby if you do."

"No."

"How about a bedtime story? There's this one that Peter B. Parker told Mayday -"

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. Not this again. He should really stop Peter B. from hanging around the command room outside work-related matters. "Por el amor de Dios, por favor detente. Sólo vete."

LYLA hovered before him. Her expression curled in displeasure. "You know, it's rude to wake a lady from her beauty sleep and just kick her out -"

"You don't need to sleep -"

"Hush!" The AI wagged a scolding finger. "Listen to your pretty and helpful assistant when she's talking. It's for your own good." She patted his head, despite the latter not feeling anything. "Now, be a good boy and sleep. Otherwise, the spiders might start crawling on your ceiling. Can't protect you if that happens."

"Very funny."

LYLA shrugged nonchalantly. "Hey, now. Don't blame me if something happens."

The holographic AI slipped her sleeping mask back on and flickered out of his sight but not without a mischievous smile on her face. Miguel decidedly ignored it for the sake of his sanity. He would rather not have the others find a broken wall in the morning. He would not hear the end of it from Peter, Jess, or their resident therapist about him breaking his two months record in anger management.

The door to his workshop and the command center yawned open, and Miguel was about to enter when his ears picked up a faint rustling sound. He whipped around, his sharp eyes searching the empty pillars, walls, windows, and ceiling for another Spider-person. Nothing. Instead, a cleaner bot swept into the walkway - its indicator light blinked green.

Miguel swore under his breath before turning his heel back. He ignored the scuttling sounds that seemingly trailed after him past the door. Stupid robots. He marched past unfinished projects that littered the long corridor towards the command center. Peter once complained about how child-unfriendly the place was and attempted to get him to organize. He even tried to rein in Miles to redesign the interior, but the younger Spider-Man wisely went invisible and slipped away. Even so, Miguel found a few sheets of detailed drawings on his desk after a week. The redecoration did not happen, but the proposals remained tucked safely with other crucial documents.

Miguel paused and glanced towards the messy hallway. The shadows seemingly stared back at him against the dim red light. If he looked closer, it might seem like they were alive.

Maybe he SHOULD organize and redecorate.

It was no wonder the others called him a broody vampire ninja. The atmosphere was…gloomy, to say it kindly. It was not a model place for proper superhero meetings but a walk to Dracula's lair.

Miguel huffed and shook his head before turning towards the filtered light of the active holo-monitors. He climbed the platform and sipped on his coffee as he surveyed the screens at his eye level. The most recent anomaly was detected in Earth-50101B, but Pavitr had already taken care of it while the older Spider-Man was in the break room. The kid should be reporting soon for the transfer.

There were no new ones in sight, nor any backup requests. All was quiet at the front. Miguel waved the middle screens away with his free hand. His eyes flitted to the lower monitors and then the upper ones. All good. Nothing odd except a silhouette creeping on the ceiling like a fucking spider -

Miguel spat his coffee and ungracefully stumbled back, nearly falling on his culo. His head snapped up to the unassuming surface and found…nothing. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as his eyes darted into every nook and cranny. There was no crawling figure, not even a shadow of it.

Nothing.

Was it just his imagination? LYLA's words must have gotten in his head. Right. His mind was just playing tricks on him. He shakily steadied himself against the console, clucking his tongue at the spilled coffee on the floor. He would have to get a new one, meaning he had to take another trip to the nearest break room.

Miguel tapped a button to notify a cleaner bot and turned around, only to be greeted by a pair of white lenses staring at him. He tasted iron as he bit his tongue to suppress the scream bubbling in his throat. There was a loud CRACK! where he was gripping the console tightly, and he swore he was ready to throw hands at the multiverse for making him deal with this shit -

The wide eyes of the red, blue, and white mask blinked at him - the head tilted in innocence askance. "Hey, Miguel -"

¡Dios mío! Please get off the fucking ceiling! Miguel wanted to yell, but he forced it down. Pavitr continued, utterly oblivious to the twitch of the older Spider-Man's eye. "- I transferred in an anomaly. Just wanted you to know."

Miguel gritted his teeth. His claws failed to loosen on the poor technology. "I see."

"Yup!" Pavitr nodded cheerfully, where he remained glued upside-down on the smooth surface. "I'll give the full report tomorrow after class. Gotta go! Good night!"

The older Spider-Man was left to watch the kid press flat on the ceiling and scuttle away like the goddamn floor did not exist. Like the word 'floor' was not in his vocabulary at all. Miguel's legs nearly buckled underneath him when the door slammed closed, and his mind ran a thousand miles per second -

"¡Dios mío! ¿Por qué eres así? ¡Joder!"

Somewhere behind him, LYLA snickered, having caught everything on video for blackmail. She had sufficiently warned him. She was not sorry at all.

I don't speak Spanish, so if there's anything wrong with the content, please feel free to correct me. Thank you!