A wild hair on Peter B. Parker's head convinced him to return to the Spider-Society's HQ in Nueva York just to check on what the board of directors were up to. To his surprise, he saw a heavily pregnant Jessica Drew working in front of the screens instead of Miguel.
"Shouldn't you be on maternity leave already?" he lambasted her.
"I would..." she responded, keeping her back to him, "... if I had that luxury."
"I'm surprised your kid's still even kicking."
She ignored his comment. On the screens, it looked like she was trying to track something across multiple dimensions.
"So... where's Miguel?" Peter asked.
"That's what I'm wondering too." Jessica opened more screens. "He was supposed to be gone for only a few days, but no one's heard from him in weeks."
"Maybe..." Peter suggested, waving his hands, "... he's taking an extended vacation?"
"Not like him at all." she affirmed. "I think he may be in trouble."
"How can you not know where he is?"
"He wouldn't tell me where he was headed," Jess turned to the 616B variant, her eyes narrowed, "and he must have removed his tracker."
"Why wouldn't he want anyone following him?" Peter scratched his stubbled chin. "That's a little suspicious, if you ask me."
"The hell if I know." She shook her head, sighing. "I'm just about done with all this crap too."
"Why don't you take a break, then?" he asked again, genuinely concerned now.
She gave him a knowing look, and he nodded.
Responsibility.
"Okay..." he shrugged lightly, "... so, what are we gonna do?"
"Send each different squad out to find him." she declared, stepping away from the console, then looked to Peter as she passed him. "It's up to you whether you wanna join or not. I won't blame you either way."
Peter sucked in his lip, thinking deeply... he wanted to be at home with his wife and daughter, but there was also this nagging feeling in his head that he knew would worsen if he didn't take this mission.
He had managed to spend some time with his family already, and he only wanted more.
Decisions, decisions... what to do?
And then he held his hips, looking down at the metal floor.
Old habits die hard.
*****
Miguel had spent the first few weeks of his absence hanging around Brooklyn in Earth 1610. He wandered around the city in some civilian clothes, a long coat, with his watch pocketed for the duration. He had removed its tracker, not wanting to be followed by his fellow spider-people; the only time he would use it, of course, was to travel between dimensions.
In truth, he wanted... no, needed... some peace and quiet from everyone.
He had also decided to monitor Miles Morales from a fair distance, mainly to see if anything funny would happen, which it hadn't... as of yet. So far, the boy seemed to be doing well in his recovery; the kid was a trooper, he had to admit.
But there was also something else that Miguel found remarkable... he himself had yet to glitch either. In costume, he sat on a rooftop, his hand under his chin, deep in wonder.
Did our defeat of the Spot have anything to do with this?
If so, then does this have the same effect on every other Spider-Person?
Is every Spider-Person now stable in every other dimension?
This was the curiosity that had been itching his head until now; his suspicions were finally confirmed.
Right then, he was jolted by the sudden appearance of LYLA again.
"So..." she playfully bent over, leaning close to his face, "... have you satisfied your hunch?"
Miguel nodded, frowning at her.
"Good, because I have a new development."
He rolled his eyes. "Please, tell me it's not another canon theory."
"Not at all." She then opened a map in front of him. "While you were here doing your own thing... I decided to do my own thing as well?"
Miguel leaned forward. There was a single blinking dot on her dimensional map.
"What's this supposed to be?"
"Apparently, it's another anomaly."
Miguel turned to his hologram AI, stunned. "But I thought we were rid of them after—"
"Could be anything." LYLA interjected. "But it's worth a look, don't you think?"
Miguel was silent for a minute, and then he closed his eyes in frustration. "So where is it?"
"Depending on the time, it could already be in another dimension by the time you get there."
"Are you telling me that we could be dealing with another multiversal threat?" He was getting agitated now.
"I can't say." LYLA concluded.
Miguel cursed under his breath in Spanish, and then forced himself to stand, his mask back on.
"Can I tell the others where you've been now?" LYLA then asked, her hands on her hips.
"Not yet." Miguel put his watch back on. "In case it's just something mild, I don't feel like troubling the others."
And so, through his bright hexagonal portal, he exited Miles' dimension.
*****
Back in her own New York, Gwen had left band practice early to visit an old friend in Queens. Standing nervously on the porch, she rang the doorbell and waited, clutching her bag. In no time at all, the front door opened, and there was Mrs. May.
"Gwen!" cried the old lady, her mouth falling open in excitement, and hugged the girl, rubbing her back thoroughly. "My girl, how have you been?"
"I've been good, Mrs. May." She had forgotten how warm this lady's hugs used to be. "Thought I'd come by to check on you."
"Then why don't you come inside?" May stepped aside, ushering her in. "I have tea."
*****
Gwen sat the table, a steaming cup in her hands, as she looked around this dining room from the same chair she always used to sit in; it was almost exactly the same as when she last left it, which was forever ago, with all the picture frames of May, Ben, and Peter... a once happy family.
"I never thought I'd be sitting here again." said Gwen, taking a sip. "So, um... how have you been doing?" she asked, half-expecting a less-than-pleasant answer.
May, who was sitting next to her, nodded while facing the same pictures. "I've been doing a little better." She turned back to face Gwen. "It has been rather lonely, however."
The girl's eyes lowered to the table. Ever since Peter's death, she had been too afraid to set foot in this house ever again. Now, she only felt guiltier for not doing it sooner; she had failed to be there for her best friend, and now she had failed to be there for his aunt, who was like a second mother to her.
"I am so sorry." she whispered automatically.
May heard her. "Oh, no, sweetie! It's not your fault!" She reached over with her wrinkly fingers to take her youthful hands. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way!"
"No, it's okay, Mrs. May." Gwen gently pulled her hands away, trying to smile.
The old lady raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you start calling me Mrs. May?"
"I have?" Gwen didn't realize, then tried to excuse it. "I guess... life?" She made a weird face, hoping that that made sense.
May nodded.
"Does it... ever get easier?" she then asked, returning her gaze to the frames.
"Sometimes..." May nodded casually. "It's easier some days, but others..." Her eyes fell downwards too before she gathered herself and looked back to the sad-looking girl.
"How do you forgive yourself?" Gwen flinched, realizing what she had just said. "I mean—"
"Are you asking me that... or yourself?" May replied, showing no signs of being offended.
The girl paused, drumming her fingers around her cup, then sighed. "There were signs... how could I not see them?" She leaned back in her chair with a blank stare. "I tried so hard to be there for him... to protect him... yet I failed to understand him."
"None of that is your fault." May leaned forward, looking into her eyes intently.
"I should have tried." Gwen felt her throat caving. "I should have tried harder."
"We all did." May responded calmly. "We all tried."
May extended her hand, and Gwen took it gratefully. This lady's warmth managed to comfort her.
"He had... a lot going on in his head." she went on to explain. "It probably drove him crazy being stuck inside this small house with two old folks like me and Ben."
"How do you go on?" said Gwen. "How do you keep getting up?"
"Even I don't know the answer to that question." May shrugged. "Just one day at a time, I suppose."
"One day... at a time." she repeated quietly.
*****
Later, Gwen was allowed to go up into Peter's old room and sat on his bed. Just like downstairs, her friend's room hadn't been changed much at all. All his books, his posters, his toys, and his gadgets, were all still displayed on his cabinets and shelves.
Nostalgia was riddled over the blonde's face as she mentally pictured and replayed various memories in here. Some were happy, some were sad, and others were mixed.
It was here that a realization came over her, and it pushed her off the bed. This guilt that had been eating her for so long, it was seductively intoxicating. She didn't want to let go of this feeling, but at the same time, she wasn't going to let it hold her back... not anymore. She has had enough of living in fear and anger, what she lost, and what she could still lose.
She walked out of the room, only pausing in the doorway to look back one last time, then left.
She, like Miles, was going to live and fight for the now.
*****
Back in Brooklyn, on Earth 1610, Miles found himself sitting across a poorly disguised Peter B. Parker in the same diner, back when they first met. The teen couldn't hide on his how face how ridiculous his mentor looked with a pork pie, a pair of shades, and a fake goatee, while stuffing his face with a burger.
"How are you fooling anybody with that disguise?"
"Cup me fome flack..." Peter spoke with a full mouth, "... I jufft... bon'p wamma braw appenffion... poo the fac... bat I'm..." he finally swallowed, "... that I'm Peter Parker."
Miles could barely understand him, though he got the context. "You look more like you're trying to deal drugs like someone who has only seen it on TV."
"Okay, fine, so I didn't pick the best disguise. I just wanted to see you, man."
"So..." Miles raised an eyebrow while drinking his soda for a moment, "... why did you bring me here? You got something important to share, don't you?"
Wiping his face with a tissue, Peter sat back with a serious expression. "I don't wanna upset you, kid..."
Miles bent his eyebrows some more. "Okay..."
"I know I made a promise before that I would be there for you every step of the way, but I haven't been keeping that promise lately."
Miles could only smirk and shrug. "Peter, it's no big deal. I'm doing fine. I know you got other things going on."
"Yeah," Peter nodded, smiling gratefully, "but I'm just letting you know that I'll be gone for a while."
"Gone? Where are you—?" he then gasped. "Is MJ having another baby?"
"No, no!" Peter waved with a cringed face. "No way in hell! No... I'm just going on a mission with HQ to find Miguel O'Hara."
"Why? What happened to him?"
"We don't know." Peter shrugged. "I also don't know how long I'll be gone, so that gave me the idea to come and see you before I go."
Miles began to worry. "But what about MJ and Mayday?"
"They'll be okay."
"Won't they get worried?"
"Yeah." Suddenly, Pete got up from the table.
"How much are you not telling me?" Miles asked sternly, following him while putting back on his breathing bag.
"It could be a problem... or just a wild goose chase. It shouldn't be anything big."
Miles looked down, doubtful.
Peter sensed his uncertainty and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hey... I'll be okay. You just worry about yourself and your date with Gwen, okay?"
Miles sighed, and then hugged him. "Thanks for coming to see me."
"You too, kid." Pulling away, Pete winked at his former protégé and exited the diner.
Miles smiled as his mentor left, but once he was out of sight, it dissolved into more foreboding look.
*****
Jefferson Davis sat in his living room, having decided to take a few off-duty days, so he could relax his mind and body. Many thoughts were swimming in his head, all they always led back to a crossroads... should he continue his line of work, or is it perhaps time to call it quits?
On one hand, his city needed him just like it needed a Spider-Man.
On the other hand, his family needed him too... his son, especially.
He wanted to spend more time with his family, but at the same time, he also wanted to fulfill his oath and make them proud. His wife was out there taking care of other patients. His son was also trying to make the most out of his life with the hand he was dealt.
One decision seemed more obvious than the other... but was it right?
He then turned his head to see Rio entering the apartment in her usual scrub. He got up from the sofa and greeted her with a kiss.
"How'd it go?" he asked her immediately.
Rio gave him a faintly sad gaze and shook her head. "Still no donors."
Passing by him, she put her bags on the table to stand in front of their picture frames. Each one had a photo of Miles growing with his parents from an infant to a toddler, to a child, a pre-teen, and finally, his recent healthier self.
She inspected all these photos while fidgeting anxiously with her hair.
"What is it, baby?" Jeff came over to her side, sensing her trepidation.
Rio closed her eyes gently and slowly turned around to face her husband. She really didn't want to have this conversation... in fact, she had hoped they wouldn't ever have this conversation... but time wasn't on their side.
"We need to talk..."
"About what?" Jeff asked, curious but also nervous about where this was going.
"We need to talk..." she breathed in deeply, "... about the worst-case scenario."
Jeff fell silent, his skin turning solid and blood turning into ice. He almost didn't want to ask now, but he did anyway. "What about?"
Both tensed, knowing deep down that the rest of this conversation wasn't going to go well.
*****
Out of all the numerous dimensions he ever ventured into, Miguel O'Hara had never felt more out of place than he did in a sepia-toned 1930s New York with his bright red and blue neon suit. He was in Noir's universe, Earth 90214; this was where he had tracked down the supposed new anomaly. He was perched on top of the Brooklyn bridge.
"Is it still here?" he asked LYLA, who popped into view.
"Yeah, according to—whoah! This universe looks grimy!"
"Where?" he asked next, ignoring her comment.
"According to my data..." she faced him ominously, "... right where we are."
"How can that—?"
But before he could finish, he heard something that sounded like a metal ball clatter right next to him. When he looked down, he saw what appeared to be a steaming little pumpkin at his feet. Not only that, but its colors didn't match the rest of this world... it was bright orange and green.
A second later, Miguel realized what this thing was and leapt off the perch... but only a second too late.
It exploded right behind him and sent him tumbling through the air in a rain of smoke and hellfire. Miguel, while falling and trying to regain control, cursed himself for not having the same spider-sense as his variants.
Luckily, his accelerated vision kicked in, allowing him to slow time and gather himself. He caught a glimpse of a figure... it was green and purple... and flying on some sort of glider.
How could that be... in this universe?
The 2099 Spider-Man caught his senses, fired his red web-line, and made his quick recovery by swinging onto another high-point on the bridge. A maniacal laugh echoed not too far behind him.
"JUST WHAT KIND OF SPIDER ARE YOU?"
When he turned, there he saw his assailant. He was standing on a bat-like glider, dressed in purple, his skin reptilian green. This enemy wore a crazy toothy grin that showed even from his silhouette in front of the full moon... and he wasn't from this universe.
"NO MATTER! LET'S PLAY WITH THIS NEW SPIDER!"
Miguel was at a loss for words. "G-Goblin...?"