her scent -+- miguel ohara -+- ~~~~Complete

12 🕸️Bound by Threads🕸️

Dinner had been tense.

Not in a yelling-match kind of way, but in that quiet, simmering storm way—when neither of them said what they were really thinking. When the clinking of cutlery felt louder than any conversation. When she asked again.

"What Canon event did I ruin?"

And he gave the same answer he always did.

Silence.

Or worse—"Let it go."

Now, she sat on a floating hexagon platform in one of the quieter corners of the Spiderbase, legs pulled up under her as she stared at her half-empty cup of iced tea. The chill from it clung to her fingers, grounding her. She didn't even want tea. She just needed something to do.

Miguel had gone back to his endless work like always—eyes glowing faint red as he scrolled through reports and files midair, holograms shifting around him like orbiting moons. He hadn't said a word since they cleaned up the mess of dinner.

She stole a glance at him.

The air between them still buzzed with whatever almost happened earlier. That moment against the wall—his claws, his voice, the way she had stupidly stared at his mouth like a moth drawn to a flame.

She shook it off. Focused on the screen he was watching now.

It was a video. Personal.

Miguel was in it—smiling, actually smiling. His eyes were soft, lit up with warmth she never thought possible on him. And beside him, a child. A little girl with his jawline and dark curls. She was laughing, tugging on his hand. He looked at her like she was the whole damn world.

Callisto blinked, suddenly unsure where to look. "She yours?"

The second the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

Miguel's entire body stilled. The warmth in his features iced over in a blink, and the video cut out.

He turned to her, voice tight. "Don't."

"I just—"

"Don't ask about that."

She frowned. "It's not like I asked for your social security number. You were watching it right in front of me."

Miguel stood up, his height instantly intimidating, but his anger wasn't violent—it was sharp. Cold. Like he was holding something back that clawed at his throat.

"You don't want to know the story behind that video," he said, voice low.

She stared at him. "You keep saying that. About everything. About me. About the Canon event I 'ruined'—but you never actually tell me anything."

"Because you're not ready."

"Or because you don't trust me."

Silence.

He looked away.

And that said enough.

Time passed.

They didn't talk about it again.

She wandered, aimless around the base, her thoughts buzzing louder than the conversations of passing Spider-people. Miguel had disappeared into another sector of the HQ. Fine. That was fine. She needed air anyway.

Still, the words hung in her chest like thorns.

You being alive is what ruined it.

How was she supposed to swallow something like that?

What did she do that made her very existence some sort of error?

When she found him again, he was reading files again, that same tension lining his shoulders. She hovered near the edge of the platform, her hands stuffed in her hoodie pocket.

"Hey."

He grunted in acknowledgment but didn't look up.

"I was wondering..." She hesitated. "If I could go back to my Earth. Just for a bit."

Now he looked up.

"No."

Callisto raised a brow. "No?"

He turned fully toward her. "I already told you—too dangerous."

"I'm not going there to start another war. I just want to go shopping. I need actual clothes. My hoodie smells like steel and spider guts."

Miguel crossed his arms. "Too bad."

"I'm not asking to tamper with time," she said, irritated now. "I want to go to a store. Maybe walk down my own street. Breathe the air I actually belong to."

"You don't get it." His tone sharpened. "You don't belong anywhere right now. Not until we figure out what Canon event you disrupted."

Her jaw clenched. "You mean the one you won't tell me about?"

His eyes darkened.

"You've been needling at that question all night. During dinner. After. I'm done entertaining it."

"Because I deserve to know!" Her voice cracked through the air. "You're keeping me locked up here like I'm radioactive and you won't even tell me why."

"Because if I did, you'd do exactly what you're trying to do now—run straight toward it."

"Then stop treating me like a damn child!"

"I'm treating you like someone who doesn't understand the stakes!"

"Then explain them!" she shouted, stepping closer. "Tell me what I did! What Canon event I messed up! Was I supposed to die? Was Carlos supposed to die? Was it the spider bite, the lab, my parents, what?"

His voice came like a punch.

"You being alive is what ruined it."

Silence fell between them, jagged and raw.

Her chest heaved. Her lips trembled, not from weakness but from disbelief.

"So you are saying I should've died."

Miguel didn't respond.

And that silence? It broke something in her.

She stepped back, breathing sharp.

"You don't get to decide that," she said, voice flat now. "You don't get to cage me because of something I don't even remember doing."

"I'm protecting you."

"No," she whispered. "You're protecting yourself."

She turned.

And this time, she didn't wait for his permission.

She stalked off, fast and furious, straight toward the nearest portal control room.

"Callisto!" he yelled behind her, voice echoing through the hall. "Don't do this!"

She didn't look back.

Her fingers flew across the interface as she selected her Earth's coordinates. Her skin buzzed with adrenaline, with fury, with the need to know what the hell happened to her.

If Miguel wouldn't give her the truth—

She'd rip it from the timeline herself.

🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️

Hii spiderss. 

i hope that you all like it so far, we absolutly love the rewritten parts that we have done so far. Tell us what you thinks so far and maybe you get a dedicated special part. 

Love onyx_writers