Miles climbed through his bedroom window, dropped his bag by the desk, and pulled out the letters from the universities. He wandered into the living room with them in hand. He could smell a plate of dinner waiting for him - probably in the microwave, since he'd been late getting back. A robbery, assault, and speeding car had delayed him.

Dad was sitting on the couch, with Billie on his lap, fast asleep, and a phone in his hand. He looked up when Miles entered.

"Hey, Miles, how was your patrol today? How was Peter?"

Miles put the letters down on the coffee table before he went to grab his plate. He was too hungry to heat it up. He sat down at the table. "Fine. Shocker tried to rob a bank. Peter and I stopped it. Otherwise normal."

"I saw that. It was amazing how quickly he took him down," his Dad commented as he picked up the letters, frowning at them. "What are these?"

"...University offers," Miles hesitantly told him, watching his Dad's expressions carefully. "They'll all be offering me an open spot for when I graduate."

Dad ripped one open and read it, nodding slowly. "Well, this is something. How do you feel about it?"

Miles speared another mouthful of food, mechanically chewing to delay answering.

What did Miles feel about it? He didn't know. Most days, he was so focused on making it to the next week, the next assignment, the next night, the next crime - that he barely had the chance to… sit. To think about what came next when he finished school.

Spider-Man was the one certainty in his life. He loved helping people, bringing a smile to someone's face on their worst days. But sometimes, the mask felt like it never came off. His responsibilities chained him down.

When he looked into his future, to when he finished school, all he could see was his mask. Sure, he could go to university, but there wasn't exactly a degree for being a superhero.

If he went, he would have to mix and match to anticipate what Spider-Man would need. Something in science, probably.

"I don't know," Miles eventually said. "It's cool, I guess."

Dad hummed and put the letter back on the coffee table before throwing his hand over the back of the couch so he could look at Miles better. "It's good that there's another Spider-Man around now. You'll have more time for school."

"Yeah, the 'one true' Spider-Man," Miles mumbled under his breath, scrubbing at his eyes. But that wasn't fair, Peter was still adjusting to how much the world had changed in his absence. He couldn't fault him for every slip of the tongue. Louder, he said, "Sure."

"Have you talked about schedules with Peter yet? If one of you is patrolling, the other can probably take a break," Dad suggested, and Miles couldn't help a sigh.

"No, Dad, I was trying to stop him from jumping back into Spider-Man so quickly. This job is… stressful," Miles corrected.

"It is, which is why it will be good having him around. It'll stop you from skipping school so much."

"I skip school if I have to, but I always make up for the time lost," Miles bit out, stabbing at his food. "It's my responsibility to protect New York."

"It's not your responsibility alone. It never was. I just want you to talk to Peter about that-" his Dad tried to double down, but Miles cut him off.

"I'm not going to drop that on him right now, okay? He wouldn't even talk to me about how we'd announce he was back. I'm Spider-Man, and so is he, and we'll sort it out."

Dad looked at him for a long moment, then softly asked, "Don't you want to be more than Spider-Man?"

Miles's breath hitched, and his chest burned. Swallowing down a venomous spiel, he took a deep breath and stood up, settling on a quiet, "I am more than Spider-Man."

"I'm not seeing it."

Miles grabbed his dinner and disappeared into the kitchen, slowly counting himself through a breathing exercise.

If he washed the dishes with the water as hot as he could bear, that was no one's business but his own.

It was when he was almost done that he heard Mamá come back from her Book Club, sharing whispered words with Dad. He purposefully tuned them out, not wanting to hear them talking about him.

Mamá entered the kitchen and grabbed a dish towel, picking up one of the plates and drying it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she softly asked.

Miles swallowed, rolling his sleeve up further. "Not really."

He heard her hum lightly, the tone knowing. She lightly bumped his elbow with her own. "You know he loves you."

"I know," he said, stubbornly fixated on scrubbing away at the dish. "I wish he understood how hard it is."

"He says those things because he knows how hard it is," Mamá corrected, picking up another dish to dry. "Seeing you come home with a new bruise every day is hard."

There were no more dishes. He didn't drain the sink. "I can't walk away from Spider-Man. Not anymore. I can't ignore people asking for my help - and I'm the only one who can do this job."

"We're a family who doesn't run from things, and we're a family who helps people for a living. You haven't had backup for a long time. Your Dad is just excited that you might have that now." Mamá put the last dish away, turning to face Miles.

"I've had Daredevil," Miles argued, but she only gave him an indulgent smile.

"You and I know he can't tank the hits you take." Mamá brushed some hair from his face, her hand stilling on his cheek, gently making Miles look her in the eyes. "You're an excellent Spider-Man. Now you can share that responsibility with someone else, someone who can help you excel."

"I've… had the spider society too," Miles tried to argue, but it sounded weak even to him.

She raised an eyebrow. "I never hear about them. When was the last time you had visited them before you found Peter?"

The silence stretched because she was right. "I'll talk to Peter about it later."

"That's all we ask."

Miles climbed onto the railing and sat down, pulling his mask off, "Hey May, how are you doing?" he greeted her, and she smiled at him.

"I'm doing alright, Miles," May said, a cup of tea in her hand. She leaned on the railing. "It's a nice day in New York, isn't it?"

Miles glanced at the sky, "Not overcast," he commented. "I just hope crime doesn't decide to pick up 'cause of that."

"Is it worse on sunny days?" May asked.

He shrugged. "Depends. More low-level crime happens, I guess, like purse snatching. More tourists walking around means more opportunities for them."

"I see. I imagine you'll be active around tourist hot spots then?"

"Maybe. Depends if I'm in the mood to be asked for a gazillion selfies. I'll swing by them more frequently, at least." Miles glanced into the hotel room, spotting a flash of red hair. "Is that MJ?"

"She just arrived an hour ago," May confirmed.

"Is that why you're out here? Giving them some space? Wait, should I go too? I don't want to-"

May cut him off. "I'm enjoying your company; stay. We'll just stay out here."

Miles took a deep breath. "Right. How is she?"

May tapped a finger against the ceramic cup. "None of this is easy on any of us," she settled on.

The slider door opening interrupted them before Miles could even think about what to say to that. Miles glanced back to find Peter coming out, chewing on a piece of toast.

"Hi, Pete," Miles greeted with a small wave.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "I don't think we're at nicknames yet."

"Oh- sorry, Peter," Miles mumbled, not missing the cold look May shot Peter. He cleared his throat. "I'm going to spend the day patrolling so you can just, uh, sort your life out. You don't need to worry about the city. Or you can join me, but I just figured you're legally dead and everything, and that would be a headache to sort out."

Peter sighed. "Don't remind me."

Miles couldn't help but nervously rub at the back of his neck. "I know a guy. A lawyer. Who could help you?"

"Do you?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

Miles grinned. "You know him too. He's helped me a lot. At the very least, he can direct you to the right people."

Peter looked thoughtful as he took another bite of his toast, puzzling over who it could be, but a frown grew the longer he mulled over it. He swallowed, then directed a hardened look at Miles. "Why did you talk to the news?"

"..What?"

"Yesterday, after the Shocker," Peter prompted. "I thought I told you-"

"I hardly said two words to them," Miles interrupted. "I was so vague. All I said was that it was you. Nothing else."

Peter's mouth opened, ready to argue, and Miles cut in quicker with a clipped, "You can't run from the press forever."

Peter turned away, glaring at the wall with his lips pressed into a thin line. Miles took a deep breath and flipped open a secret compartment in his webshooter, presenting a key to Peter. "That's a key to the storage unit. Feel free to drop in whenever and use what's there."

Peter plucked it from Miles's hand, turning it over. "Thanks."

"Yeah, no worries."

The silence threatened to stretch, but MJ joined them on the balcony before it could go on too long. Miles slid off the balcony railing to offer her a handshake. "Hi, I don't think we've ever properly met."

MJ took it. "I don't think we have, but May has told me lots about you."

"All good things?" Miles asked lightly.

MJ shared a smile with May. "For the most part," she joked.

Miles shrugged. "I'll take it. How's Hollywood going?"

He regretted asking when her expression changed. Her smile remained, but her eyes lost their sparkle as she glanced at Peter. "It's been good for me," she said quietly.

He took a deep breath, pointing a thumb behind himself. "I, uh, should probably start my patrol now. It was great to meet you finally."

"And you as well."

Miles locked eyes with Peter. "May has my number if you need me, and I'll get Matt to contact you."

"Wait, Matt? As in Matt Murdock? Daredevil? Is that your lawyer friend?" Peter asked.

Miles smiled. "Yep, that's him."

Peter brushed a hand through his messy hair. "Huh."

"I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for him. He's really helped me," Miles admitted. "I was planning on meeting up with him, actually, if you wanted to join me?"

Peter stepped towards the door but stopped when MJ made an aborted move to stop him. Miles stilled, instinctively wanting to camouflage as the two shared significance looks - a conversation without words.

Peter drew himself up, breaking eye contact to nod at Miles. "I'll be out in a moment."

"Sure," Miles agreed.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding as Peter disappeared inside. Miles glanced at May, who had straightened up to put a comforting hand on MJ's shoulder.

Feeling like he was intruding on something private, he shifted so he could look down at the street below. He dug his phone out and sent a short text to Matt, letting him know he would be dropping by shortly.

Light footsteps alerted him to Peter coming up behind him. Miles straightened up. "Ready when you are."

Peter, now adorned in his Spider-Man suit with his hands on his hips, nodded. "I'll be right behind you." To MJ and May, he promised, "I'll be safe."

"Please do," May said.

Miles stood up, "I'll see you guys later." He jumped into his first swing, Peter hot on his tail.

Daredevil was leaning against an air conditioning unit when Miles landed on the rooftop with a roll.

"So, Daredevil, Spider-Man, Peter, Matt," Miles said in the way of introductions. "I was hoping you could help him with lawyer-y stuff?"

"'Lawyer-y' stuff," Matt mimicked with a smirk. "I think I can do that."

Peter extended a hand, and Matt took it, their handshake firm. "Surprised to see you're still kicking."

"The devil doesn't die," Matt mused. "It was good to hear that you hadn't joined him."

"My death was greatly exaggerated, as you can see," Peter waved a hand over himself, jutting his hip out. "I'm as healthy as ever."

"That is to say, an undernourished grad student."

Miles disguised a snort of laughter with a cough, but from the look Peter shot him, it hadn't worked as well as he'd hoped.

"I'd recommend you drop by my office during business hours tomorrow, Peter, and we can start working on making you legally alive again," Matt advised.

"That's great, 'cause I'm not a fan of legally being considered a zombie. I don't even have green skin," Peter joked.

"You haven't even groaned for brains once," Miles piped up.

"Well, this wasn't as useful as I was hoping, so I'll get to patrolling," Peter said as he backed up. "See you tomorrow, Matt."

He fell backward off the roof, the sound of his webshooter echoing a moment later.

"You want to talk to me about something," Matt said, and it wasn't a guess.

"Yeah. Shocker said something yesterday that you should probably know, too. He was working for someone, and I think he was also working with the other people I've fought this week - Trapster, Vulture, and Mysterio," Miles explained. "There might already be someone trying to become Kingpin again."

Matt hummed thoughtfully. "Any guesses on who?"

"Not one. Shocker gave me no hints as to if it's someone we know or a newcomer," Miles groused. "I don't even know what he was trying to do. It was a pretty pathetic bank robbery attempt, and I know he's at least a bit smarter than that."

"Have there been any patterns between the four you've fought this week?" Matt asked.

Folding his arms, he paused. "The… fights have been long. Except for Shocker, but Peter was there to help. All of them seemed a bit out of character. Like Vulture, he barely put any effort into getting away with the gold he stole."

"Interesting. It could be Fisk again. I have heard rumors about him circulating," Matt admitted. "I believe I fought some of his underlings a few days ago, too."

Miles's fist had curled at his side, and he forced himself to unclench it with a deep breath. "I think it's time I said hi to him. I'll check that he hasn't found some way to contact the outside world."

"Are you sure?" Matt prompted, placing a hand on Miles's shoulder. "I can do that, you don't have to."

Miles swallowed and shook his head, "No. It's okay. I'd rather get on top of this sooner rather than later."

"If you're sure. Let me know what he says."

"I will."

"Spider-Man, Miles!" he heard someone shout from below, and he swung low to drop onto the pavement. He turned to the person who had called out for him - a wave of nerves washing over him at who it was. A police officer.

"What's up, how can I help?" Miles asked.

The police officer grimaced. "We've got a hostage situation in Central Park. I've only just heard about it on the radio."

"Who's doing the holding?"

"Rhino. Get there quick - they're in the Great Lawn area," the police officer informed him, and Miles nodded once.

"Okay, I'm on it," he said solemnly before taking off again with a leap, swinging as fast as he could to get to Central Park.

Rhino wasn't the type of villain to take hostages, he was more about property damage. It was out of character, just like Vulture. Miles knew he had to take the opportunity to get any information he could on the boss, and Alex O'Hirn had never been the sharpest tool in the shed.

When he got close enough to hear the police with their megaphone, he camouflaged and dropped to the grass below - he didn't want to chance Rhino hearing his webs.

He ducked behind a tree to survey the scene.

In the middle of the field stood Rhino, casting a long shadow with how tall he was. Beneath him were multiple hostages, and there was something… shiny around their arms and legs. He stepped out further to get a better look.

From their wrists past their elbows and from foot past their knees, there was metal binding them together. They couldn't run - and that made getting them to safety that much harder. With something like twenty hostages, Miles would have to be careful.

Stepping back into cover, he let the camouflage wear off. He would have to save his energy in between escorting as many hostages as he could to safety. Hopefully, he could get the majority away before Rhino noticed and escalated-

Rhino perked up, a hand coming up to his ear. He nodded once, turning to stare in Miles's direction like he knew exactly where he was.

To Miles's horror, he picked up one of the hostages, throwing them forward onto the ground, and hovered a foot above her back, ignoring her cries for help. "Little spider! If you don't come out, I will crush her like bug."

Stepping out of cover with both hands up placatingly, Miles pleaded with him, "This isn't like you, O'Hirn. No one has to get hurt here."

Miles let out a breath in relief as Rhino stepped over the hostage and towards him. "Ah, so this is how I make you take me seriously."

"I've always taken you seriously, Rhino. I've had one too many cracked ribs not to," Miles half-joked. "Why are you doing this? What do you want?"

"That would make it too easy for you, no? How about you come closer, and I'll tell you."

In the famous words of Admiral Ackbar, it was definitely a trap. Rhino seemed to sense his hesitation and grinned. "Or would you rather I use this lady as doormat?"

Miles reluctantly walked forward. His eyes darted around. There was nothing to swing from in the middle of Central Park, and in the middle of this open field, there wasn't even anything Miles could throw at him.

He would have to be quick and agile to escape harm, and that was going to be harder on this field. He needed to get Rhino somewhere where he would have the advantage. Even into the tree line would be enough.

Miles stopped just out of strike range. "So?"

Rhino's grin grew. "Closer."

This was going to hurt. Miles took one more step, then another, and barely ducked beneath Rhino's first swing, the displaced air whooshing over him.

"Woah! Not cool!" Miles yelped, skittering backward as Rhino followed him. "Predictable, but so not cool."

Rhino laughed as he charged forward, attempting to skewer Miles on his horn. Miles used said horn to swing onto his back, jerking his head up to throw him off balance. Rhino's hands came up, but couldn't grab on to him with Miles dancing just out of range.

With a growl of rage, Rhino fell backward like a bucking bronco. Miles jumped off his back like a springboard before he could get crushed under him.

"You still haven't told me what you're doing this for," Miles reminded Rhino, moving further back towards the tree line. He made a come-hither motion, "Why don't you come over here and tell me."

Rhino, as predicted, charged at him. Miles turned tail and ran, making it fifty meters before he could feel him breathing down his neck, and his arm snagged on Miles's left leg. He was barely able to stop his head from smacking the ground before Rhino lifted him up by his leg.

"So, you come here often?" Miles snarked.

"No. I am normally in jail," Rhino snarled.

"Oh," Miles shrugged. "Well, anyway, about your motives-"

Thwipping a ball of web at Rhino's face, he used his free leg to kick out of his grip. Rhino stumbled back, yelling as he struggled to tear the webs off.

They were almost at the tree line, Miles would soon have the advantage. He hoped that with how far away they were, someone was getting the hostages to safety.

"You working for someone? No, sorry, dumb question. You are working for someone, so who is it?" he questioned, just as Rhino finally tore the webs off.

"I can't tell you," Rhino said, then charged again. And again, Miles ran, making it into the tree line. He jumped onto a tree, crouching on the trunk, ready for Rhino.

But just as Rhino caught up, he jolted, and his hand reached for his ear. Whatever was said to him had him turning and heading back towards the hostages.

Miles swung down, kicking the back of his head, "Nope! Stay right here, big guy."

Rhino snarled at Miles, halting Miles's next punch by grabbing his arm. "You don't tell me what to do."

Rhino threw Miles like a petulant football. He sailed through the air, crashing and rolling to a stop. He groaned, rolling up his mask to spit out some dirt.

Feeling Rhino's thunderous footsteps approaching, he was barely able to roll out from under his foot before he got crushed. "But your boss gets to tell you what to do? Double standards, much?"

Miles was barely dodging Rhino's stomping feet, with no breathing room to try to get to his feet.

"They pay me, you don't. That's why I listen to them," Rhino said.

"No, yeah, that makes sense." Miles grabbed his shin and stuck to it at his next crushing step, flipping up onto his leg. Startled, Rhino instinctively kicked out his leg, trying to shake him off.

Miles let go at the arch of a hopping kick, flipping onto his feet. He skittered out of range and camouflaged, catching his breath.

Rhino huffed in frustration, his head darting from side to side. "Where have you gone?"

"Right here!" Miles jumped at him with a venom-charged punch, blowing him back onto his knees. He managed to get in two free hits before Rhino grabbed him by the throat and smashed him into the ground.

Miles wheezed through a breath, kicking up to try and dislodge Rhino, but it was like kicking at a mountain - immovable.

"Tell me to let go, little spider," Rhino taunted, squeezing Miles's throat. "My boss never said I wasn't allowed to kill you."

He gave up on struggling to pry his fingers from around his throat. He beckoned Rhino closer instead, who, amused, leaned closer to hear a pitiful attempt from Miles to speak.

And promptly got a face full of venom right to the nose.

Rhino was blown back and off of Miles with a surprised shout of pain. Miles blinked the black dots out of his eyes, sitting up and coughing. His throat was going to hurt for days.

He stumbled to his feet and ducked under a punch as Rhino came at him again. His venom had only barely slowed him down. But Miles? Miles was exhausting quickly.

Flipping out of the way of another swing, he ran towards the treeline again, but when he glanced back, Rhino had made no move towards him. Uncertain, Miles came to a stop.

"If you leave this field," Rhino growled, "I will crush one of them."

"Wow," Miles couldn't help but blurt. "Didn't realize you had the villain brain cell today."

"Are you calling me stupid?" Rhino snarled.

"Hey, you said it, not me."

Rhino menacingly stomped towards the hostages, and Miles darted forward into his path. "Wait, don't-"

Swiping at him, Miles barely dodged the swing by stumbling back. But, with his spider-sense blaring, he missed a smaller blip on his radar.

And stepped into a hole he hadn't seen, tripping and falling onto his back with a cry of pain - twisting his ankle.

Rhino didn't delay in using the moment of weakness to his advantage, immediately stomping down on him.

Miles cushioned the blow with his hands, desperately trying to keep the massive foot off of his chest. Rhino laughed at Miles's shaking efforts, leaning on him even harder.

"Do you want to cry for your mummy yet, little spider?" He taunted.

Miles's hands gave way, precious space narrowing to just inches above his heaving chest. "Nah," he wheezed, "I've got this."

The pressure let up for just a moment and then came down on him all at once. Miles's hands finally buckled. The full weight of the giant man came crashing onto his chest, driving all the air out of his chest.

His ribs ominously creaked as he was shoved into the dirt, a crater in the shape of his body formed. Miles couldn't help a cry of pain, his eyes stinging as he grabbed onto his ankles. But with even less leverage than before, Miles didn't know how he was going to escape.

"I don't think you do, Miles," Rhino mused, grounding his foot down and grinning at Miles's silenced shout. "The boss's plan to fight you in Central Park was a great one."

Crash.

The weight lifted, and Miles sucked in air like a drowning man.

It took several long moments for Miles to sit up, in time to see Peter punch Rhino's face so hard his head bounced off the ground.

Yeah, he had it handled.

Glancing back at the hostages, he saw that all but three were gone. Stumbling to his feet, he jogged up to them and hoisted two over each shoulder, wheezing out a promise that he'd come back for the last one.

By the time he'd brought the last one to the police line, where someone had figured out how to unlock the shackles on all the hostages, Peter had Rhino knocked out and webbed up.

Perched in a tree nursing an ice pack to his throat and another to his ankle, courtesy of paramedics who had badgered him into accepting them, Miles watched the police's efforts to secure Rhino with tired eyes.

The thick branch barely trembled as Peter landed on it. "What the hell was that?" he snapped.

"Hello to you too," Miles snarked.

"If I hadn't been there-"

"Don't lecture me, I'm not in the mood," Miles cut him off with a wave of his free hand, leaning back against the trunk of the tree.

"You could have died," Peter said, his voice hard as he looked out at the field. Then his head snapped to Miles. "You almost did," he snarled, hands on his hips. "Then who would have protected the hostages, huh? Did you even think about what you were doing?"

"He wouldn't have." Miles glanced up at Peter, who loomed over him. "That wasn't his goal."

"Yeah? Then what was it?"

He shrugged, clearing his throat. "Don't know. But it wasn't to hurt them. He was just using them to get our attention."

Peter huffed. "Yeah? Well, he got it. That was completely reckless, Miles. Now you're hurt-"

"It isn't that bad," Miles snapped. "It'll be like nothing ever happened in, like, two days. Lay off."

"Mistakes kill," Peter grilled, jabbing a finger at him. "Don't you get that?"

Yeah, you'd know all about that, Miles narrowly bit back.

Instead, he forced himself to take a deep breath and stood up. The anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach eased. "I think you should take a break from Spider-Man."

"What?"

"It's not healthy being Spider-Man all the time. You're neglecting Peter Parker," Miles doubled down, holding the ice pack at his side.

"You don't get to tell me that after I just saved your ass-"

"Yeah, well, you seemed to decide it was lecture time. So, my turn." Peter opened his mouth to retort, but Miles was quicker. "You need to sort your own life out and figure out how you want to approach this before you put the mask back on."

"Like you do any better, Miles. I haven't seen you be 'Miles Morales' the whole time I've known you," Peter tried to argue, but Miles only shrugged.

"It's the weekend. It's when I spend the most amount of time as Spider-Man."

"Neglecting school, then? What a great example you're setting for kids everywhere-"

"Peter. I've set up a system with my school. If I miss class I make up the time lost that night or when I next have a spare moment." Miles sighed, scrubbing at his eyes. "Look, I even do some taekwondo every week. I've got a handle on both identities. You don't."

Peter visibly seethed, but Miles refused to cower before him. "I'm allowed to be Spider-Man."

"I'm not saying you can't be. I just think you need to take a break to get your life sorted," Miles soothed. "You were a grad student, you had a job and a life outside of being Spider-Man. You can get that all back."

"I don't need to explain myself to you," Peter snapped.

"Then don't." Miles sat back down, propping his ankle up and pressing the ice pack back to his throat.

"You don't know what it's like to lose two years of your life and be experimented on," Peter growled.

"Does two months work for you?" Miles muttered.

That stopped Peter cold. It was several long beats before Peter whispered, "What?"

"You haven't done your research on me, have you?" Miles guessed, and his silence was telling. "I get the urge to run yourself ragged until you don't have to think anymore, okay? Pushing your body to the limits just to run away from it all. Owl didn't just hurt you, but they're practically gone. I've made sure of that."

Peter tentatively sat down beside Miles, hands resting in his lap. "I have… these memories. From when I was… Anyway, the people said something about trying to get 'the other one.' They… talked about trying to source more of that stuff I was in."

Miles shuddered. The mere thought of sharing Peter's fate…

It took careful focus, counting himself through a box breathing exercise for several long moments to keep his cool. He swallowed the bile in his throat before placing the ice pack down.

He rolled up the sleeve of his right hand, showing his arm to Peter. Miles couldn't bring himself to look at it, though, keeping his gaze locked forward.

"OWL kidnapped me over a year ago. I was there for two months," Miles started, mechanically cold. "They were trying to replicate my powers. They routinely drugged my food and put me under the knife. That's what that scar is."

Miles rolled his sleeve back up, tucking his hand close to his chest. "I know how hard it is coming back from these sorts of things." Miles pulled his mask off and looked Peter in the eyes - or where his eyes were under the lenses. "I just think you should take the time to decide what you want to do next. I have Spider-Man covered in the meantime."

"Do you, though?" Peter retorted, but even Miles could tell his heart wasn't in it.

"Most of the time," Miles conceded. "I would have figured something out - sometimes it's just a bit hard to take down a human-shaped, rhino costume-wearing tank."

Peter looked at Miles for a long moment. Miles let him, picking the ice pack back up.

"Okay," he heard Peter whisper before he got to his feet. "I'll think about it."

The branch held fast as Peter jumped away, the sound of his webshooters echoing a moment later.

Miles let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He focused back on Rhino, watching as he was finally loaded into a specialized transfer vehicle.