Hobie sighed as he entered his apartment, kicking the door shut behind him before looking to see where he could put his groceries down. Normally he didn't bother to do much shopping. First because him and his band were on tour. Then because he didn't know when Miguel might demand he come and help with some dimension hopping bent. He only needed one time coming home bone tired and taking a swing of milk only to realize it was a week expired for him to know it wasn't wise to have perishables in the place.

But this time... this time was different. Because he had a feeling he might be staying in his universe for a while. So... eggs. A rasher of bacon. Beans because he was craving a good breakfast even if it was 2 in the afternoon. For all the Society claimed they were advanced and wonderful they had never figured out how to make breakfast that wasn't cereal. Everything needed for a Scotch egg. A few different breads because he wasn't for sure what he would be in the mood for. His favorite raspberry preserve. A few beers that he... hadn't stolen because Spider-Punk didn't steal. He just took things and left money on the counter when no one was watching. There was a difference!

He shuffled into the kitchen, looking for counter space. Course that would have required him to have cleaned up and he hadn't bothered with that. He wasn't a slob, despite what many might have thought looking at him, but it was controlled madness which was the best kind. Organization in the insanity. Everything was where it should be even if it didn't look like it, just as Hobie preferred.

Setting the bags on a pile of magazines detailing Prime Minister Osborn's trial he glanced into the living room only to pause. There, sitting by the couch, was Gwendy's bag. Black and sedate, so it not only didn't fit her at all but stood out like a sore thumb.

He shut his eyes.

Damn that girl.

He'd thought she might be different.

Maybe it was because they were both musicians. Or perhaps because she was only a year younger than him and seemed to have that fire of rebellion in her as well. Maybe because she reminded him of… well, her… without looking like her. Whatever it was Hobie had tried to get her to come to his side of things without cluing her into just what was going on. He couldn't come out and say, "So, thinking about taking down the fascist that is the leader of this little summer camp. Ya in?" No... he'd been careful about it... dropping little hints. Comments to get her to think. Make her see that things weren't as sunshine as knobs like to portray them.

But Gwendy... that girl hadn't merely gotten Miguel's hooks in her... she'd gone up to the line, removed the worm, and happily stuck the whole damn thing in her mouth.

It's why he had told her that she'd left her things at his place. A subtle warning that he was done with her and wanted her gone. He could have waited a bit more before he gave up on Gwendy but betraying her friend like that? Well... staying silent so that authority could do their thing made you a jackboot in his opinion. So... he was done with her.

All of them, honestly.

They'd shown that with Miles. How lost they were.

'Kid has damn potential,' he thought to himself as he set about putting the groceries away. 'They're all fools not seein' that. He could be the best of all of us and they are doin' all they can to turn him into our worst nightmare.'

It was something Hobie saw coming kilometer away: Miguel pushing the wrong Spider too much, killing their family (because despite what the Society might claim... they were killers, all of them; killing through inaction), and the Spider would snap. And an evil Spider-Man... well, that was a dangerous thing.

'Tosser,' Hobie thought as he took out his phone and, purely on instinct, clicked on the notifications tab. He'd set it up to give him updates on Nueva York... always good to have an eye on the evil empire and-

He froze.

He stared at the alerts.

'...no,' he thought and the next thing he knew he was on his couch, still holding onto his phone, and the sun was far lower in the sky than it had been when he'd came home. "No."

The bastard had hurt Miles.

Might... might have killed him.

The Society was freaking out about it. Mass departures. Infighting. Questioning the jackboots and their stooge leaders. Some trying to defend it or at the very least make excuses. It would have made him smile if not for the fact that the kid might die.

Hobie numbly closed the app and pulled up his contacts, finding one whose number was far too long.

"Hey, what's up?"

Hobie sighed, pressing the phone to his ear. "Listen... can ya come over? Some shit when down and I need ta talk to someone."

"Yeah, give me a second." The line went dead and Hobie didn't even have long enough to get up and see if his milk had gone bad before there was a knock on the door.

He wasn't foolish enough to call for whoever it was to come on in. You don't piss off the establishment and stick around by being so lazy. There was a reason why he didn't stay in the same apartment for more than 6 months until the Society offered ways to hide yourself (and he would be moving now soon anyone, no longer able to trust that). So he leapt onto his ceiling and moved towards the door, making sure he cast no shadows that could be seen through the crack in the door, and checked the peephole. Only when he saw the familiar blue and gold outfit did he drop down and open it.

"Neighbors not going to question me showing up in this?" the new arrival asked. "I'm not exactly dressed for casual get-togethers."

"They are used to me having interesting friends," he replied.

"Oh, we're friends now Hobby?"

Hobie glowered at that. "Yeah, we are… Chrus."

He winced the moment he said it.

"That was just sad."

"Hated it the moment it came out of my mouth."

"Good. It was bad and you should feel bad," Chris said as he entered the apartment.

"One day I'm gonna get you to say my name right," Hobie said, glancing at the American from another universe. As always the hero known as Spider-Chaos looked normal enough… or at least normal for him. The costume he wore was a garish thing and that was coming from Hobie who loved making his own outfits as wild and eye catching as possible. Always riled up the Society folks when they saw his duds, like he was spitting on legacy and tradition. But Chris took it even further, which a metallic blue and gold outfit that made his eyes bleed. He leaned more towards the standard Spider-Man outfit style, with his only other alternations, other than his unique colors, being the bands on his biceps, a small backpack, and of course the fact that his spider emblem was plastered on his mask rather than his face.

He looked normal enough… until one really stared at him. Then they'd notice what made him different from everyone else.

COCKY SMART FUNNY TRUSTWORTHY

All sorts of descriptor words, so tiny that if you stepped back they were impossible to see, were flowing along his suit. They kept changing, altering, some remaining rather prominent while others only appeared for a second. From what Hobie could tell the words changed depending on his (not Chris') mood at any moment and reflected his own feelings and thoughts on the man. When he was being an ass ANNOYING and ARROGANT would appear; when he was helping Hobie deal with a villain it was HEROIC and BRAVE. When he'd first met him it had been simple things like BLUE and GOLD.

Honestly made him wonder what others would see on him, if he were from Chris' universe.

"I thought I was saying it right," Spider-Chaos said before his mask slithered away like slime. Not a symbiote (thank goodness) but similar enough that it still creeped Hobie out. Even with his mask gone, revealing his dark blonde hair and his beard and sharp gray eyes Hobie could still see new descriptor words appearing on his skin, faint but there. "God, you look like shit. Sit down." Chris moved towards Hobie's kitchen, opening up his freezer.

"I don't need you babying me," he complained.

"Too bad, I am," Chris said as he pulled down some sausage and some frozen tortilla wraps. "You need pizza but I doubt you have dough so we'll do wraps."

"I ain't your kid," Hobie protested.

"You're a Spider and you are hurting. That's my thing."

"Yeah," Hobie said with a scoff, finally settling on a chair because he knew that Chris wouldn't let up about him eating. "You are just such a dad."

"…because I am one," he pointed out.

"How many you have now?" Hobie asked, watching as Chris dug through his cabinets and… when had he gotten marinara sauce?

"Six," he stated as he set the jar down and pulled out the bag of cheese Hobie had just gotten that day, checking it with the back of his hand before nodding. The milk must also have been fine because that went into the fridge. "I found a Julia who needed a home. She's 16 but spent her entire life in a lab so she's like… 4 in terms of people skills. We're working with her. The Wongs are having a field day showing her everything. So is the Court."

Hobie shuddered at that. Leave it to Chris to be friendly with the Fae. No sense of self-preservation, even if he claimed his Sorceress Supreme had been raised by them.

"So," he said as he set about chopping up some sausage, "going to tell me what happened?"

"Everything went to shit."

"Well that's just a Tuesday," the older spider said with a shrug.

"Not this," Hobie said firmly. "The Society… we always worried they'd go to far."

"Worried?" Chris asked. "I fucking knew it."

He grimaced at that, remembering the incident from a year and a half a go, when he'd just joined up in order to investigate the Spider Society and not because he bought into what they were selling. Yeah, it had been… well, it had been a bad time… but he had known what Miguel and Jess and the other members of the Inner Circle were preaching were lies and garbage just to get their own little minions in place. He'd joined purely to see what they were up to and sniff about to find perhaps some like-minded people. Hadn't found any in the Society… but there had been Chris. One of Miguel's Public Enemies due to him going around the multiverse and rescuing orphaned little Spiders and taking them home. Miguel had tried to stop him once on his lonesome and the beat down the American had given the bastard… god, sometimes Hobie wished he could have recorded it so he could have listened to it before going to bed.

But after that there was no love loss between Chris and the Society. They saw him as a danger to the multiverse with an order to capture on sight, all force authorized. Chris, for his part, had been quite vocal in his desire to take down the Society.

It was one of the reasons why the two were now friends.

"Yeah well the entire Society just found out what they joined up with," Hobie said.

"What happened?"

"Ya know Gwendy? Gwen that is."

"The one staying here?" Chris asked because thanks to the multiverse you had to be specific.

"Yeah. She had a friend. Miles Morales of earth 1610. Real good kid. Real good Spider. I think… I think he could be the best of us." He grew quiet.

"What happened?" Chris pressed even as he began to layer the cheese onto the wraps.

Hobie leaned back in his chair. "Found out about the canon events and that Gwendy and his mentor had been lying to him and avoiding him and were ready to let his dad die because Miguel said so."

Chris' jaw worked. "Shit."

"Yeah, that's what went down. Kid didn't drink the kool-aid."

"He need a place? I have plenty of room. He has to be okay with raccoons though… my kids found out about Rocket and the High Evolutionary so we've been rescuing a lot of baby raccoons recently. Other animals too but mostly baby raccoons. Corrosion gave a few symbiotes…"

Hobie ignored that little nightmare. Friends with Fae and his version of Venom… Chris was insane. "Might take you up on that… if he lives." He could feel Chris' stare on him as he looked up at the ceiling. "Why didn't you take them down?"

"Hmm?"

"You had Miguel right where you wanted him. Ambushed him, all alone. Locked out your world from the Society. Made your threats and then you backed off."

"My kids-"

"Don't use them as an excuse," Hobie snapped. "You warned the Society to leave you alone but you could have ended them! Ended that jackboot! Instead you let them go with a slap and now a kid might be dead!" Hobie suddenly sat up straight, slamming his hand against the table. "That make ya feel good, mate? That because you're a coward Miles might die?"

Chris just stared at him for a long moment before he grabbed the bag of cheese, squeezing it to break up the frozen bits. "What do you want me to say, Hobby?"

"You caused this!" he snarled. "You sanctimonious prick! You could have stopped them but you didn't! Hid away! Like a coward!"

"What do you want me to say?" Chris repeated, his voice level and calm.

"I-"

"Hobie."

He frozen.

"What do you really want me to say?"

"I… I… I want ya… to tell me how its my fault." He collapsed back into his chair. "That I should have done more. Told Gwendy how they were screwing with her head. Reached out to others. Spoken up louder. Stepped in."

He swallowed.

"Stayed instead of running back here."

He pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes and SCREAMED.

"Bloody coward!" he roared. "I talk about takin' on the man, ripping down the corrupt, and what do I do? Leave a god damn child all on his own with hundreds of jackboots! He's gonna die because of me!"

"…yeah," Chris finally said.

Hobie snapped his gaze up at him.

"Hey, you are the one that wanted me to tell you it's your fault! So… it's your fault." His tone though was utterly patronizing. "Also racism doesn't exist, there is no such thing as gender inequality, and the High Evolutionary isn't a whiny bitch when you forcefeed him his own testicles." He shot Hobie a sardonic look. "We done having me tell lies now?"

"Screw you."

"Sorry, my kids don't need another daddy," Chris teased, puckering his lips several times. The words ANNOYING and ASSHOLE flashed across his face. But just as quickly CONCERNED appeared multiple times. HONEST as well. "Yeah, you messed up. That we agree on." He looked down at the sausage he had cut up and set to work sprinkling them on the wraps. "You ran off because you had plans. Good plans, yeah, but plans. But let me ask you something… how did every fascist group begin?"

Hobie grunted. "With a plan."

"And forgetting what they are fighting for. The little guys. Focusing on the future than the now. You want to take down the Spider Society because of what they do… and then you went off and let them do it to that kid. That's what upsets you." He paused. "But…" he set about rolling the wraps, putting them in a pan he'd grabbed, "the kid ain't dead yet, Miguel is still running things… and there is time to do what is right."

"Go back?" Hobie asked.

"You're working on your dimensional teleporter… have all the parts?"

"Yeah." Chris had never offered one of his and Hobie had never asked; he'd wanted to do it on his own and also know that Spider-Chaos would never hand his off easily.

"Then while I finish up supper or lunch or whatever you brits call it you get it made. Then you go back after you've rested and find the kid. See if they are actually helping him or if they are just trying to keep him alive so he isn't a martyr. If it's the former you figure out what you can do to help. It the later you yank him and take him-"

Suddenly Chris snapped his hand out right at Hobie's head and his eyes went wide as his Spider-Sense flared. He dove down and Chris fired off not webbing but a small barb that shimmered in a multitude of colors. Time suddenly sped back up for him and he twisted to see just what Chris had hit only for the man to have already leapt over him and grabbed the intruded that was now frozen in his window.

"Well well well… we should see if she has any silver on her. 30 pieces is the standard payment, right?"

Hobie could only stare at the frozen form of Gwendy, her body locked in place thanks to Chris' Temporal Barb…

…and her eyes bloodshot and red, tears still frozen to her cheeks.

Oh, we can be heroes
Just for one day

~MC~MC~M C~

Author's Notes:

All right, let's do this one last time, alright? My name is Chris Chase. I was yanked from my world to a new reality where I was instantly bitten by a radioactive spider, and for 12 years I've been the one and only Spider-Chaos. I'm pretty sure you know the rest. I got a job at the Historical Society, sorting out all the fights that come from a world where time travel is the norm. I became New Chaos City's protector, dealing with time displaced supervillains. I made some friends... and somehow ended up the leader of The Avengers. And then I found out about little Spiders... girls and boys that desperately needed help across the Multiverse. So... uh... yeah. I became a dad. Again. And again. And again. Also I've been a fucking thorn in Miiguel O'Hara's roided out ass. Because I remember what it means to be Spider-Man. I remember. With great power... comes great responsibility. And the way so many other Spiders are acting... I'm beginning to worry... I might be the one and only Spider-Man left.