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When we were heroes

Chapter 3: 3 - Unlikely brotherhood

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It’s cold and starts to drizzle again by the time Miles has made it halfway to the shop, he shivers, the ripped-up suit doing nothing to protect him or keep him warm.

While Miles usually doesn’t get sick because of his spider powers, he doesn’t doubt that he will have one hell of a cold after today.

A sudden crunch has Miles spinning, his fists curled as he prepares to defend himself once again.

Nobody is there, Miles chalks it up to being paranoid and he keeps walking, wrapping his arms around himself in a weak attempt to keep himself somewhat warm.

It doesn’t work, but its the attempt that counts.

Its nearly pitch black outside, and even with his enhanced vision its hard to see in the darkness.

It feels like the shadows are closing in, slowly compressing around him so that before he knows it, Miles is completely submerged in the dark.

The parking lot behind the stores is empty apart from looks like a wrecked bike and a old pickup as far as it can get from the entrance.

Miles notes the truck and slowly makes his way to the bins, sticking to the shadows and away from the harsh light.

Another sound grabs Miles attention, the scuff of a boot on wet concrete, Miles snaps his head up, to see the familiar approaching figure.

Of one Hobie Brown.

What should he do? On one hand, Hobie technically works for Miguel, on the other.

He helped Miles get out of the cell, which is more than any other spider person, including Gwen and Peter, can say.

So he waits, Miles waits for Hobie and whatever the older boy has to say.

Hobie’s carrying a large paper bag by its handles in one hand, a bag slugged against his shoulder and being held in place by Hobie’s other hand.

He’s wearing the same boots, but that’s the only thing that’s from his spider suit Hobie’s wearing much more casual clothes.

Well what must be, Hobie’s definition of casual anyway.

Hobie stops in front of Miles, tilting his head slightly.

“Well your a right mess.” Hobie hands him the bag, Miles takes a peek inside, its clothes.

A pair of jeans, a clean shirt, socks, and a thick jacket that will be priceless in the winter.

“Thank you.” Miles is grateful beyond words, but a question nags at his mind.“But why?”

“Why not?” Hobie retorts, but after a long heavy moment he gives an actual answer to Miles’s question.

“We- I should have protected you, you didn’t deserve that.” Miles is glad that Hobie’s around, there is at least one good spider person left. As long as Hobie’s around.

Hobie stretches slightly, his homemade pins rattling at the movement. Maybe he doesn't believe in heart to hearts. “I have to go, but one last thing.”

He says, throwing something towards Miles. “He can’t catch you if he can’t find you,” It’s a dimension watch, but different, its less smooth and has marks where a screwdriver has slipped, it must have been handmade by Hobie.

“Thank you,” Miles says gratefully, Hobie shrugs. “Keep fighting the system little man, you can crash with me if you need to.”

Hobie opens a portal and leaps through before the portal quickly slams shut behind him. Miles stands in the darkness and glances at the watch.

Where should he go?

Not back to Miguel’s dimension that would be asking for a disaster to happen. He can’t stay in not his own, and despite Hobie’s offer it would be too dangerous to go there.

But there is a universe, busy and crowed, where whoever is there is too distracted by any remains of where the Spot wrecked havoc.

Where nobody would take full note of him in the crowed streets.

Earth 50101

Miles hopes Pavitr is as open to helping him as Hobie was.

Miles takes one last look at the dark, cold, raining world around him.

He opens the watch face, noting that Hobie has already preset different universes with notes, Miles will have to look through them later.

He picks the universe where he wants to go.

Here goes nothing he tells himself leaping through the swirling colours of the portal with nothing but the clothes Hobie gave him, the suit hes wearing, the watch, and the hope beginning to sing in his chest.

Unaware of a pair of dark red glinting eyes watching him from the darkness.