Chapter 23 – Afterglow
When Miles came to, his vision, much like his mind, was all fuzzy at first. When it cleared, he stared half-lidded at a ceiling, which was different to the one before… he wasn't in the ICU anymore. Another thing he noticed was the screaming pain in his chest that he expected to wake up to… it wasn't there anymore… it was gone now.
Squinting to his side, he first found his dad snoring in his chair; the poor man was all stubbly and furrowed with stress lines, but he was at least getting rest now. The other sleeping figure, Gwen, had her head resting on his mattress with her soft hand neatly laced into his crisp one. Lifting his hand out of hers, he caressed his fingers through her pink-dyed golden hair, smiling faintly.
As soon as she noticed that Miles was awake, she shook Jefferson by his meaty arm to let him know too, and within seconds, their tired faces brightened.
"Miles…" Gwen clapped her hands over her mouth, "… you're awake!"
"Hey, babe." For the first time, his words didn't come out garbled. "Missed me?"
"You have no idea!" Elated, she dove her arms around his neck. "Thank God you're okay!" she mumbled, crying yet again into his pillow while he patted her.
Looking back to his dad, Miles quickly remembered something and said it out loud before it could fade from his memory, which was, "Uncle Aaron says hi."
His dad hung his mouth open before smiling back through tears of his own, wiping his face and sniffling. "How are you, son?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"Like…" he thought for a moment before answering, "… I'm reborn."
To prove this, Miles sat up without any strain or assistance from Gwen; all that stung now were the stitches from his most recent surgery, so he made sure not to move his torso too much and risk reopening them. The fact that he could breathe with his own two lungs again was more than liberating; it was like taking his first gasp of air after being held underwater for so long.
"Welcome back, kid!" spoke another cheery voice from the doorway; it was Peter B. Parker. Joining them inside, he grabbed a chair of his own to sit with the others at bedside. "How are you feeling?" he asked as well.
Miles gave a different answer. "Like I just came back from the dea—" Pausing mid-sentence, the rest of his memories came flooding back, surging like a tidal wave… the memories right before the surgery… and it shadowed his face with haunting realization. "Where's mom?"
Immediately, the smiles that filled this room dissolved into worrying side-glances… and that was when he knew what he wasn't yet ready to accept.
"Where's…?" Lowering his chin, he held his chest firmly, held his breath… and felt her rhythmic heartbeat quickening under all those stitches and bandages. "M-Mom… she's…"
"She's gone, son." Jeff stated solemnly.
"T-Take it b-back!" he blubbered, stewing with nausea.
"Miles!" His father reached out, only to be shoved away.
"N-Not hers!" Like a raging faucet, tears poured from his eyes all over again. "I didn't… want it to be… h-hers!" With his trembling fingers, he dug into his chest… he wanted to rip her heart back out; this wasn't what he wanted at all, despite the promise he had made.
"Miles, stop!" Jeff seized his wrists, wrestling him, but his big frame was no match for his spider-strength, which had also fully returned. "Don't… throw it away!"
"Miles, please!" Gwen lunged herself between them, joining the struggle.
"Don't throw away her sacrifice!" his dad bellowed. "IT'S ALL THAT'S LEFT OF HER!"
As soon as those last words reached the boy's ears, he slumped back on his bed and wept in their arms tightly. "I want… my mom…" he rambled like an infant, "I want my mom back!"
"Miles, I'm so sorry!" Gwen was weeping herself. "We're right here for you!"
Peter remained in his chair, unsure of what to do, when their doctor came in and cleared his throat; in all his years of medical practice, these sort of things hardly fazed the man anymore. Breaking apart, everyone except Miles turned their attention to him.
"Firstly," he looked to his patient sympathetically, "I am truly sorry about your mother… I can't imagine how you must be feeling right now."
The boy rolled his eyes, turning to the heart monitor opposite him, and watched as its squiggly lines on the screen spiked with each beep evenly; it was like counting sheep.
"I'll also have you know that all your medical expenses have been covered."
"Really?" Jeff raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. "Who's paying for it all?"
"It's anonymous." stated the doctor. "What matters is that your son is alive and healthy. Now, if I could just listen to make sure." Approaching Miles with his stethoscope, he lifted the boy's gown and pressed the cold diaphragm into his chest to listen intently. "Take a listen."
He first offered the earpieces to Jefferson, who took it with haste. Closing his eyes, the father and recently widowed husband cleared his thoughts… for the first time, he heard his wife's heartbeat for himself.
Ba-dump…
Ba-dump…
Ba-dump…
Covering his mouth, he fought his own tears… it sounded so beautiful. This heart belonged to the woman he loved, the woman of his dreams, and the woman he wanted to grow old with… and now… it lived on inside their son.
"Son…" Jeff offered him the device, "… take a listen."
Miles shook, refusing to look at anyone in the room.
"Just listen…" his father insisted, "… please."
"No."
"Why not?" Jeff scowled in disbelief until a hand on his shoulder eased him off; it was Peter's. "Son, I…" sighing, he understood now, "… I'm sorry."
"I know, dad…" he looked back at his father, "… I am too."
No one really knew what to make of Miles' response, which made them all anxious for his mental wellbeing.
"Give him time." spoke the doctor again. Fixing his glasses, he turned to his patient directly. "What you're feeling right now is perfectly understandable, but you mustn't in any way feel responsible for what she did for you."
Miles stared at his doctor wordlessly, then down at his own chest again.
"I'll let you keep the stethoscope." the man assured. "You'll be let go soon after."
"Thanks, doctor." Jeff shook his hand. "We appreciate everything you've done for us."
"You're very much welcome, and I again offer my most sincere condolences."
As soon as he left, the other three occupants turned back to Miles, who now had his eyes shut, as if he was asleep; he wasn't crying or wincing painfully anymore… he was just numb.
After his discharge, Miles didn't say a word to his dad when they returned home to a now emptier apartment in the late evening, which still had her scent. Their walls had numerous pictures of Rio Morales… pale echoes of a woman who had recently left them behind… just so he could live.
With his newfound stamina, he raced into his room and locked his door shut, not caring if it would get him into trouble later, even though his dad wasn't in much of a scolding mood right now. He laid in his bed, his unblinking eyes glued to his blank ceiling, while he simmered with guilt.
I should have found another way…
It's my fault!
A tender knock interrupted his thoughts, which had him yell out, "Not now, dad!"
"I… I know, son." The man sounded completely exhausted, which made Miles feel worse. "Take as much time as you need, and whenever you're ready… I'm here to listen, okay?"
Miles didn't answer as he stared at his cast shadow under the door, which left him alone shortly.
For whatever reason, he started thinking about light bulbs and the faint red afterglow that they leave behind after getting switched off… those few seconds before fading into darkness… and wondered if that was what would become of his mother eventually… a fading memory.
The following week, which began for him on a Tuesday, Miles returned to Visions Academy where everyone greeted him with a thunderous standing ovation, a hero's welcome for his triumphant recovery with colorful 'Welcome Back' banners and everything… all of which did a bare minimum to lift his spirits, though he managed a grateful smirk.
He got through his all classes and assignments without much incident, most of which were spent with his head down in his books and papers. In terms of sanity, he was mostly okay as long as he didn't have to talk to anyone without one-word answers, which sadly included Ganke.
Whenever he got home, he'd bore into his homework and studies like never before, anything to keep his mind busy from thinking about his mother… at least until the funeral, which he dreaded most of all. He knew that once he saw that casket lowering six feet into the earth, his false hopes of bringing her back would finally be extinguished, and their lives would have to continue without her.
There were two other things that Miles held off doing in the meantime.
The first, of course, was listening to his mother's heartbeat; the stethoscope was sitting in his open drawer, waiting to be used before it could start collecting dust.
Not yet…
Soon, but not yet…
The second was putting on his spider-suit, which hung in his wardrobe with all his other clothes; with his secret out to his family… or what's left of his family… there was no need to hide it in any secret spots anymore, except when they had guests of course.
Looking at his suit… he found the second option more tempting than the first.
Spider-Man was back in town, but their friendly neighborhood was nowhere to be seen.
On this night, all Miles wanted was to blow off steam and vent his boiling anger, so whoever was foolish or unlucky enough to cross him at this hour was in for a reckoning… which he was admittedly looking forward to anyway.
It didn't take long at all, because down in an alleyway, he saw a group of guys huddled around this one woman with her back against a wall; they were eight of them threatening her with knives and crowbars… perfect.
When he descended upon these criminals… these cowards… his vengeful fury discharged like a floodgate. No quips were exchanged… his bloodying fists did all the talking, for he wanted others to know his pain. This scuffle, however, barely lasted ten seconds, as he left behind a sprawl of broken bodies in front of the woman, who fled the scene in terror.
What the hell are you doing, Miles? You just scared that poor woman.
There was one guy left, one who was still conscious but struggling to his feet as he crawled backwards; he was bleeding from his nose down to his neck. Miles would have felt sorry for him if he hadn't seen him caressing his knife over that woman's blouse with that monstrous grin that reminded him too much of the Goblin. Clicking his knuckles, he lifted this man by the throat until his toes were dancing just off the ground.
"P-Please…" he gasped, "… don't… do this! I'm s-sorry!"
Miles only tightened his grip. "You want mercy after what you were gonna do to that woman!?" He shook in disgust. "Let me guess… the devil made you do it?"
The man, still gagging, stared in horror; unlike his predecessor, he couldn't predict what this younger angrier Spider-Man was capable of. "I g-give up… see?" He raised one hand openly.
This did nothing to appease Miles. "I'll let you in on a little secret…" scowling, he brought their faces closer, "… I ain't having the best week right now. This is my first day back, and you were supposed to make this interesting." He looked back where the woman disappeared. "I guess it's only fun when your victims are far weaker than you, isn't it?"
This time, the man didn't respond… which was pretty much an admission.
"How about I give you a taste of what she felt?"
The masked hero raised his fist, ready to brutalize this common crook, when something from behind caught his wrist, cocooned his whole body, and yanked him away before a white-sleeved pair of arms cuddled him on the ground… he was wrapped in webbing.
"What the—?" he thrashed. "Let me go!"
"It's okay, Miles." a voice in his ear whispered… it was Gwen.
A third Spider entered the fray and made short work of the last criminal by webbing him to a wall upside-down. His mask may have hidden his face, but his classic red and blue costume couldn't hide his beer gut… it was Peter again.
"What are you guys doing here?" asked Miles, sounding ruder than he intended.
Peter didn't answer him and instead pointed upwards. "Rooftop… now."
"So… am I about to get the mentor scolding?"
"No, Miles, this is not an intervention… we just wanna talk… see how you are."
"What's there to talk about?"
They were up on a flat-topped skyscraper, far away from any prying ears. Miles paced in front of the other two Spiders, growing agitated by the minute, while holding his chest.
"Look…" Gwen stepped forward, still with her mask and hood on, "… I know what it's like to lose a mother."
"Were you the cause?" he asked bluntly, which staggered her.
"What…? No." She bowed her head. "She passed away when I was very young."
"So, it wasn't your fault, then?"
"Miles…" she reached out again, but he backed away, "… it's not your fault! Your mother made a choice!"
In one violent motion, Miles tore off his mask and spiked it to the floor. "BECAUSE I COULDN'T FIND ANOTHER WAY!" There were dark bags under his grossly bloodshot eyes. "I should have listened to you, Gwen… back on the clocktower when we were fighting the Spot… I should have found another way… and she wouldn't have had to…" trailing off, he stared ghostly at the skyline.
"Miles…" Peter took his turn, taking his mask off too, which Gwen also copied, "… when I lost Uncle Ben—"
"I don't wanna hear about Uncle Ben again or how it was always meant to be!"
"It's not about that at all." he assured, throwing his hands defensively. "It's easy to think of all the different things you could have done after it's already happened, but in that moment, when I let that criminal go, I couldn't have suspected then that he would end up killing my Uncle Ben."
"Same with me when I lost my Peter." added Gwen. When she touched Miles' shoulder, she was relieved when he didn't pull away again. "I kept telling myself that I should have tried harder to see the signs, but in that moment when I was fighting the lizard… everything was so out of control… and all I could focus on was stopping the threat."
Miles heaved a long sigh and shut his eyes for a while, lost in his thoughts, while he felt his mother's heart pumping strongly through his veins. He knew deep down that they were right, but he still didn't want to accept it; none of it could pacify the ironic hollowness inside him.
"You don't have to do this alone." The girl held his cheeks pleadingly. "Let us help you."
Gwen's touch was always so soothing, but his pride wouldn't let him absorb it for long. When he felt his emotions bubbling up again, he withdrew from her, webbing his mask from where he threw it to put back on, then dove off the building.
"Miles!"
She chased him to the ledge and watched with anxiety as he plunged further and further into the streets below… and then swung off in a sharp curve, just narrowly avoiding the pavement.
"He's getting more reckless!"
"I know." Pete held her gently. "Just give him time."
Gwen leaned into his shoulder, nodding understandably… she had been there herself, after all… more times than she'd like to count… and it was always inescapable… always.
It was on another day, just while walking out of school, that Miles got another unexpected visitor; standing in front of him on the sidewalk was a burly Hispanic man in a long beige coat that reached down to his ankles.
The boy recognized his sharp-jawed face immediately. "Miguel?"
"Hey…" he greeted with a meek wave, looking aside awkwardly.
"What are you doing here?"
"I just wanna talk."
"About what?" Miles frowned wonkily, holding his hip. "Is this an I told you so?"
"No, nothing like that. I just wanna talk to you for a minute." Miguel backed up with his hands defensively. "No traps this time, I promise."
Miles hesitated before complying. "Since I'm headed home, I may as well walk and chew gum." He started off, motioning the man to follow. "Just spare me the I'm sorry for your loss."
Shoulder to shoulder, they navigated the busy streets of Brooklyn at a leisured pace. The young man's reclusive demeanor wasn't lost on the older Spider as they walked in silence; he was clearly depressed, and it was no secret why… but what words of comfort could he offer?
"I have something to ask…" began Miles with his eyes facing downwards ahead, "… does your dimension grow stem cells or have any artificial organs?"
Miguel paused at this question then sighed.
"I know it's too late…" the teen acknowledged, "… I just wanna know whether my mom could have been saved or not."
"Sorry, kid… but no."
Miles swiveled with an incredulous scowl. "You're telling me that a futuristic dimension that has advanced technology which can travel to different earths and can prevent glitching with watches doesn't have any tech to deal with a failing heart problem?"
"When you say it like that, it does sound stupid… but yeah."
"How the hell is that possible?" It genuinely boggled him. "What have you guys been doing all this time?"
Finding a bench to sit on, Miguel answered. "Despite all our advancements, our human priorities were focused on all the wrong things… including my own." He leaned back while Miles stood over him. "I guess you can say it made us more into machines than man."
"Not so perfect yourselves, huh?" Miles sat down next to him.
"Nope," he admitted with a light smirk, "no matter how hard we try to be."
"You were right though…" Miguel perked at this, "… you can't have it all."
"You mean…?"
"Yeah." Miles hunched on his knees, rubbing his hands. "After everything I did, I still ended up losing someone… it was all for nothing."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that." Miles turned to Miguel with a harder scowl. "When I lost my family…" he began, rubbing his own hands too, "… I was broken and angry… and I was desperate to escape my grief."
"And that's why you went to that other dimension."
"Yeah… and that grief became a weapon of mass destruction that I thought was meant for good." He looked up to the sky, his eyes glistening under its daylight. "I was really just trying to alleviate my own guilt, but when that other dimension collapsed…" he inhaled, "… it was actually caused by me being the anomaly, not because I broke any canon."
"What are you saying?"
"The canon was never real… it was all bullshit."
"Then how come…?" he studied the man up and down, "… how come you're not glitching without a watch anymore?"
"It's called a gizmo." Miguel corrected. "And to answer your question, you did that."
"How?" Miles was stunned.
"The supercolliders, which Spot absorbed, had something to do with our atoms destabilizing in other dimensions, but after you defeated him the way you did…" he waved his warms wide, "… it seems we can all coexist now. In conclusion… there are no more anomalies."
Miles stared off for a minute, taking all this in. "If that's the case… then you can go find another family and not have to worry about destroying their universe." This comment was met with a murderous glare. "Too far, too far… sorry!" Backtracking, he hurriedly changed the subject. "But it still doesn't explain why my mom had to die."
Cooling down, Miguel offered his speculation. "Because life is an infinite branch of possibilities, and your mother picked the one that she knew would save your life… no one including me could have predicted that." Leaning forward, he recalled that night. "I won't lie… it moved me."
Finally, it all seemed to click for the boy, and he concluded, "The past may be canon, but the future remains an unwritten book… so whatever happens happens."
"It's got a nice ring." Nodding to this, Miguel stood up and adjusted his coat. "I should get going… nice talk."
"What are you gonna do now since you're no longer the leader of HQ?" questioned Miles, getting off the bench as well.
"Right now…" he thought for a moment then shrugged, "… I'm trying not to think too far ahead anymore… but I do have some medical expenses to cover."
"Whoa!" This staggered Miles. "You've been paying this whole time?"
"Out of my own pocket… since you don't have a bank account in Earth 928B."
"Damn… thanks!" The boy offered a handshake, which Miguel accepted. "For what it's worth, I think you're alright."
"For what it's worth, you're still a pain in the ass." he countered with a smug grin. "See you around… Spider-Man."
Miles watched his billowing coat as the 928B Spider-Man strode off into the thickening crowd, and then he was gone.
"You too." he said before leaving himself.
He couldn't help but smile from this exchange. More could have been said, but for now, their newfound respect for each other was enough.
Returning home, Miles found Gwen and Peter sitting with his dad at their kitchen table; from their body language, they had obviously been consoling him. When they noticed his arrival, the two guests got up from their chairs to leave, but Miles stopped them with a wave.
"It's okay, guys." he said, exchanging glances with everyone as he joined them. "I… I think I'm ready to talk about it now…"
To this… they all smiled gladly.
TO BE CONCLUDED.
Author's Note: I'm genuinely sad that this story has to come to an end. It's been a helluva ride! I'll see you all for the final chapter!
To Ann: This whole story is basically my take on how Beyond the Spider-Verse will end... it just so happened to take on a whole life of its own.