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it’s quiet, in brooklyn of earth-42.
a rare, strange occurrence — the silence, save for some lively shouts here and there, is not something that is experienced often. it is, however, always cherished.
sitting on the ledge of a rooftop are two young boys, staring off at the quiet skyline.
“talk to me.”
milo lolls his head over to miles, who has his gaze still fixated on the skyline. “about?”
“there’s somethin’ on your mind.” miles turns to milo, raising a brow. the weariness in his expression makes him seem much older than he actually is. milo’s sure he looks the same. “be honest with me.”
miles watches as milo sighs, leaning his head back. milo bites his lip, thinking for a moment before exhaling. “this shit’s cruel.”
“what is?”
“ everythin’ ,” milo says, and miles can see him clenching his jaw. “just… the universe has been playin’ cruel jokes on us. and i’m sick of it.”
miles hums. it’s something he also experiences, being tired of the universe messing up everything. “you’d think it’d be over with.”
milo laughs, a bitter sound that’s a harsh contrast to the somewhat peacefulness of their surroundings. “no reason for it to. the miles morales luck, huh?”
it’s silent between the two of them.
the city’s becoming livelier, but not as much as normal. they can hear laughter and jeers. it almost seems mocking, with what they’re talking about.
“i hate workin’ for kingpin.”
miles looks over at milo in surprise. his hands are in fists, jaw clenched, an angry fire in his eyes as he continues, “i hate it.”
“… oh?”
“i only do it for mamá ,” milo admits quietly. “for papá . for tío . it’s the only reason.
“ tío was already the prowler, and i knew,” milo continues. “after papá… well, i asked him to let me help him. so that i can keep him and mamá safe.”
“but kingpin.”
“but kingpin,” milo agrees. “prowler’s by hire. kingpin doesn’t care, usually — tío takes on the more dangerous ones. says he won’t forgive himself if i got hurt.”
milo brings his knees up to his chest, resting his forehead against his knees. he takes a deep, shuddering breath.
“i saw him kill papá. ”
miles inhales sharply, immediately understanding milo’s pain. milo’s chuckles are just as bitter as before as he says, “i watched him kill papá when he was tryna get rid of the police. he got shot. couldn’t save him in time.”
“i’m sorry, man,” miles says, but there isn’t any pity in his voice. if there’s one thing the two of them shared across dimensions, it was the hatred of pity. “it was the same with my uncle aaron. i showed him i was spider-man, and he let me go, but…”
milo snorts, shaking his head. “fuck us, huh? our universes have a fuckin’ vendetta against us.”
miles leans his head back, staring at the minimal stars in the sky. “… how strange are screams in your brooklyn?”
“not very. crime is rampant, so they’d figure it was that. why?”
“scream.”
“… what?”
“scream with me,” miles explains, looking over at a confused milo. “just let everything out and scream. ”
“i can’t just—”
miles takes a deep breath.
admittedly, he’s been holding this in for a bit. he needs an outlet of sorts, and this is his perfect opportunity.
he starts small. he thinks of the little things that have gotten under his skin — missions gone wrong, arguments with miguel and peter, etc.
and he screams.
it’s not a loud scream, but one nonetheless. milo jolts back in surprise — he can tell that there’s hidden, underlying feelings behind the scream. that miles is more heartbroken than he lets on.
miles manages to give milo a small smile. “see? easy. you try it. if you’re hesitant, i’ll do it again with you.”
milo sighs, rolling his shoulders back. he nods.
“okay. i’ll count down from 3.”
milo thinks. he thinks of the harsh upbringing he had in a crime-rampant brooklyn, and how he had to learn to defend himself from the start. he thinks of how papá was killed in front of him. he thinks of how many times he comes back home, attempting to keep everything a secret from mamá.
miles thinks. he thinks of when he first became spider-man, when he was forced to learn everything on the spot from the start. he thinks of the betrayal the spider-gang initially acted on, in leaving him behind and webbing him up. he thinks of how uncle aaron was killed in front of him.
“3.”
milo wonders. he wonders of what would have happened if he were spider-man. of what would become of his family if papá wasn’t killed. of what would happen if he had saved his dad — if he were only a bit faster.
miles wonders. he wonders of what would have happened if he became the prowler, as supposedly intended. of what would become of his family if uncle aaron were still alive. of what would happen if he managed to get the gun away from kingpin in time and save his uncle.
“2.”
milo wishes. he wishes for peace. for quiet. for tranquility. he wishes for his city to not be crime ridden. he wishes for his family to not struggle. he wishes for this world to not be so crueł.
miles wishes. he wishes for gentle touches. for quiet. for someone to tell him he’s okay. he wishes for his city to not deal with the consequences of anomalistic villains. he wishes for his world to not be so cruel.
“1.”
milo and miles imagine. they imagine a world where their universes weren’t so cruel. a world where they didn’t have to worry about their potential death coming in at any second. a world where they can be safe .
and so they scream.
miles’s scream is rough, gritty, a reminder of how he was forced to grow up in his time becoming spider-man. there’s grief, mourning written all over the scream.
milo’s scream is loud, pitchy, broken, a reminder of how he was forced to grow up in his time becoming the prowler. the heartbreak in the scream is prominent.
they scream at the universe, at its cruel and harsh ways of destroying them.
they scream at the universe for how it caused close ones to betray them.
they scream at the universe for taking away their papá and uncle aaron.
they scream at the universe for ripping away their youth.
they scream until their throats are raw.
and then the first sob hiccups out.
the two of them huddle together, allowing for their grief, hurt, mourning, heartbreak to spill out through their sobs and screams.
the universe is cruel in its ways. it ripped everything away from both of them, dangling what they have left mockingly in front of them.
it attempts to destroy their home, destruction imminent at every turn if not dealt with properly.
but whether the city is overrun by villains, on fire, dealing with petty criminals, collapsing, it doesn’t matter.
home is home. and they’ll always defend their home, no questions asked.
no matter the cost.