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greensagephase · 9 months

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Nonviolent Communication - Part Four

Miguel O'Hara x FemReader

Summary: Miguel shows up at your apartment again while you're celebrating your deceased boyfriend's birthday.

Word Count: 8,253

Warning: Miguel reflects on earlier days; Sad Miguel (I'm sorry)

Music inspo while writing:

"Mercy" - Max Richter, Mari Samuelson (Miguel's part)

"Nonviolent Communication" - Metro Boomin, James Blake, A$AP Rocky, 21 Savage (I love this song so much)

Part Four

Miguel steps out of the multidimensional portal into your apartment. He stares out at the living room, barely registering the sound of music when he hears you call his name. Miguel turns suddenly, startled by your presence. He stands there, in the middle of the room, in his suit as always, only revealing his face. He looks surprised to see you as the portal begins to fade away behind him, causing the objects in your apartment to fall back into place.

“Y/N - I thought you…” he starts, his eyes meeting yours.

You stare at him, still holding the knife as you stand in your kitchen. You briefly wonder what he thought. Then, you realize as you two hold eye contact. He thought you weren’t going to be home. You had told Lyla you had plans to go out. He had heard at least that part of the conversation, you realize. It seems that the moment you pinpoint his confusion to you being home, he too realizes you have figured it out because he clears his throat and looks down, as if embarrassed.

Your gaze follows his movement, to his hand. You see it then. Your mask. You didn’t even realized you left it as you had rushed out of the lab a few hours ago.

“I was leaving my lab when I saw your mask lying there. I figured you might need it for your night patrolling…” Miguel says at last, lifting his hand, showing you the mask.

You put down the knife and nod before you walk towards him. You approach him slowly, taking the mask from his extended hand.

“Thank you. I didn’t even realize I left it there. I was in a bit of a rush…” you say, trailing off as you hold your mask with both hands now.

“I noticed,” Miguel replies, meeting your eyes before his eyes flicker to the kitchen.

You suddenly feel embarrassed. You were caught in a lie. Miguel had heard you talking about having plans with friends, only to find you here in your apartment. You sigh quietly and look down at your mask for a few seconds. You finally look up, offering a small smile.

“Today is Peter’s birthday… Or would have been,” you correct yourself, looking over at the cake. “He would’ve turned twenty-six today.”

Miguel stands in front of you, still. You turn to him; his eyes are on the cake. He brings his gaze back to you and nods.

“You must think…” you start, thinking he must find this odd. You must look like a crazy woman, baking and celebrating your boyfriend’s birthday, who passed away three years ago.

Miguel shakes his head.

“I – Understand.”

The two of you stand there, silent. There’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you. You look over at the counter, suddenly remembering the ice cream.

“Shit, the ice cream,” you mutter, before you hurry to check it, placing your mask on the counter as you walk by.

The ice cream is still intact, but you know you will have to put it away soon. You turn to Miguel, who seems to be listening to the music. You can’t help but feel embarrassed despite him saying he understood. You stare down at Peter’s cake. Your emotions are a little over the place. You are sad, still grieving Peter’s absence while at the same time trying to be cheerful because it’s his birthday and now embarrassment is thrown into the mix. Your emotions override your brain and then, before you know it, you speak.

“Would you like a slice of cake?”

Miguel’s eyes shift to you. You can see there’s something there – like hesitation. You begin to feel regret immediately. Maybe this is too much. Maybe you are trespassing a line. You look down at the cake.

“I’m sorry – you are probably very busy like always,” you start, feeling heat in your cheeks. Yes, this was probably too much. Too personal. Too vulnerable. Too much for the founder and commander of the Spider Society.

“If you don’t mind… Yes.”

You look up in surprise, though you try to hide it. You hope Miguel didn’t notice the way your lips parted in surprise. You nod slowly before grabbing a plate and the knife again. As you slice the cake carefully, you feel Miguel walk from the living room section to the kitchen area slowly. You can’t help but feel like his movement is intentional, as if he’s trying to tread dangerous waters carefully. He stands behind the counter, the same side from which you ate the day he was here.

You place the slice of cake on the plate. You look at the ice cream and then at him.

“It’s probably a weird combination but – do you also want ice cream?” you ask, quietly.

And Miguel O’Hara stares at you for a few seconds before he nods. You nod and retrieve a small bowl plate. With ease, you open the ice cream container and place two scoops on it. You place the two plates in front of him before you retrieve utensils. You grab napkins and place them on the counter before placing the utensils on top of them. You return to the cake to cut a slice for yourself. Your movements are deliberately slow. You can sense that this is… Not awkward but also not easy? Whatever the word is, you are trying to give Miguel time to take a seat. As you place the slice of cake on your plate, he finally pulls one of the counter chairs out and takes a seat. From your peripheral vision, he still towers over you. You grab another bowl plate and get one scoop of ice cream. You retrieve utensils for yourself, discreetly noticing that he has grabbed the utensils you placed for him.

You cut into your slice with a fork, bringing it to your mouth. Your eyes return to the photograph, now next to Miguel’s plates, as you eat. You try not to look at Miguel as he brings the fork to his mouth. You tell yourself not to think about the fact that this is the only time you have ever seen the man eat. You wondered sometimes if he ever ate. You wonder if Lyla had to remind him to eat, the way she had to remind him to sleep.

“This is – a great cake,” Miguel says, breaking the silence. “Thank you.”

Your eyes move to him then. You nod, giving him a small smile.

“It was his favorite… Both the cake and ice cream flavor,” you respond before trying the ice cream. You haven’t eaten this flavor since last year. You only buy it for Peter’s birthday, reserving it for his day.

Miguel watches you. He doesn’t say anything, but he notices the slight puffiness of your eyes, a sign of crying. He listens to the music, recognizing the voice. He knows of Billie Holiday of course. He doesn’t know everything about your life but suddenly, he feels that he has a picture of it. You were happy, really happy. You once had everything, too. You lost it. Like him.

He can sense that you still seem somewhat embarrassed by this, but he doesn’t find anything odd about it. He understands. He finishes the cake and then the ice cream, enjoying both things despite feeling like he intruded on a very personal moment.

“Do you want more?” you ask, noticing he finished eating.

Miguel meets your eyes, and then nods. “May I please have another slice of cake?”

You nod, putting your plate down before taking his to give him another slice. You feel his eyes on you as you remove the candles gently, placing them aside on a napkin. You begin to cut another slice.

“I also…” Miguel starts, pausing. “I celebrate Dia de los Muertos, I don’t know if you –“ he pauses, and you nod, indicating you know what he’s talking about as you put the slice on his plate. “I make a small ofrenda for them.” You place his plate in front of him, meeting his eyes. “So – it’s not - Don’t feel as if…” Miguel says, trailing off and you nod.

“Thank you,” you say, understanding. You feel comfort and something else at the fact that he shared that with you, willingly, as an effort to lessen your embarrassment.

You take a deep but quiet breath in. You hadn’t expected someone to show up, even less Miguel but now that he was here… You feel – lighter? You take him in as he brings the fork to his mouth. Seems like he’s enjoying the cake, or at least you hope so. You return your eyes to Peter’s photograph, which still faces you. You stare at it, his gaze meeting yours. You smile softly before you finish your slice of cake.

Miguel continues to eat his second slice of cake. No wonder he loved it, Miguel thinks to himself, referring to Peter. The cake is amazing. Peter’s face flashes in his mind suddenly. He remembers the man’s face from the last time he was here, when he had stopped to look at the photographs on your wall. He had looked at you, smiling in all of them but he had also noticed Peter. It was obvious that the two of you loved each other deeply. It seemed to Miguel that Peter was a great man and if a woman like you loved him so much, Miguel is sure he had to be.

His mind shifts back to the conversation you had with Lyla earlier. You had lied. It’s not like he was eavesdropping, no. He would never do that. Lyla was just so loud sometimes that she tore his attention away and that’s why he had heard her ask if you had a date tonight or some other plans. That’s when he had heard about your plans to go out with friends to watch a movie. That’s why he had shown up at this time. He had spotted the mask lying on one of the many surfaces of his lab earlier, but he didn’t want to show up when you were home. He thought it would be awkward. He debated not even bringing it at all, but he knows you do night patrols, so he figured you would need it for tonight. Thus, he waited until he thought you would be gone to avoid any awkwardness.

And that’s why he was startled when you called his name. You weren’t supposed to be home, except you were. You were in the kitchen with a knife in your hand, about to slice a cake. He had barely identified the mood of the music and suddenly, he had a pretty good idea of what was happening and why you had lied to Lyla, who could be a little judgmental sometimes. He understood. He knew. He hadn’t celebrated Gabriella or his wife’s birthdays as he didn’t think he could handle such a thing, but he did set up an ofrenda for them each year.

You look up at Miguel, he looks as if he’s in deep thought. You wonder what he’s thinking about. Your ears focus on the music, Billie Holiday is still playing.

“I should turn that off,” you mutter, realizing the ambiance in the room is… too romantic.

You set your plate down, about to head to the living room section.

“Don’t,” Miguel says softly, stopping you in your tracks. You turn to him, his eyes already on you. “It’s nice.”

You nod slowly, staying quiet for a few seconds. “Peter loved this kind of music,” you share, as you pick up the ice cream container. “You want more?”

Miguel shakes his head. “I think I’ve had enough. Thank you, though.”

You turn around and put the leftover ice cream away in the freezer. You turn around again. Miguel is looking down at his plate but then looks up.

“He had good taste in music then,” he says, which makes you smile.

“I thought so, too.”

Miguel takes a moment before he adds, “He sounds like he was a great partner.”

You nod, hugging your arms. “He was. He was wonderful,” you say, turning your attention to Peter’s photo, wanting to say more about him but reluctant to unleash all your memories, thoughts, and feelings on Miguel.

Miguel doesn’t fail to notice the look in your eyes. It is obvious that you love Peter. All he can do is watch, wondering if that’s the way he looked at his wife once. He can’t help but also think how lucky Peter is, to still be loved beyond his death. The same way that Gabriella and his wife are lucky.

How lucky are those who pass away and have someone still love and remember them, Miguel often thought… Miguel doesn’t let himself think about it often, but a small fear creeps on him sometimes. Slowly but surely, crawling to his mind.

Was he going to die alone? Would anyone mourn Miguel O’Hara? Was anyone going to remember him? Or was he going to be a small, insignificant memory that came occasionally to his recruits’ minds when they thought of their work or earlier days as members in the Spider Society? Would they share their memory to whoever they were talking to or was near them? Would they say he was cold and stoic? Would they mention how he didn’t let anyone in? Or would they think about him for a few seconds before he was put away from their minds? Forgotten once again.

He buried those thoughts as deep as he could, burying himself even deeper into work to avoid having to reflect on those questions. He had no family. His parents had passed away many years ago. It was his father first and then his mother. His only sibling, Gabriel, had passed away three years before Miguel inserted himself into Gabriella’s life, leaving him with no one. No family and little friends if you could even call them that.

He was lonely though he never admitted it out loud. He drowned himself in work to fill the void and to avoid his thoughts. He worked day and night. Sometimes the only thing he saw were his monitors for hours. He had grown so accustomed to the light of them. He had grown accustomed to the silence that was only broken by Lyla. He told himself he was good. At least he had Lyla.

Then, his work was the very thing that led to his brief happiness. He discovered a way to travel through the multiverse. He traveled to so many universes , recruiting other Spider-members, his mind already settled on founding the Spider Society. It was then, through his traveling and exploring of each universe, that he found one in which a variant of himself had a family. He watched that universe for some time, longing to be like that version of himself in secret.

That version wasn’t Spider-Man. He led a normal life. He had a daughter… Gabriella. Miguel had never admitted it to anyone, but he had envied his variant. This version of him was carefree. He was happy. There were no worries about saving someone or something. This variant was a father, and a very dedicated one. He attended school functions for his daughter. He was a part of the parent teacher student organization. He baked brownies and cookies for fundraisers. He attended every soccer game. He worked a normal job. He picked up his daughter from school and dedicated the evenings to her. Miguel often watched as they played board games on their dining table. Gabriella’s laugh as she played board games with his variant filled him with a happiness he hadn’t felt in so long. He watched in awe as his variant helped the child with their homework every evening, seeing how bright she was.

They had the perfect life.

Miguel longed to have that for so long as he watched from afar, knowing it was wrong. And then the unexpected happened. His variant was murdered, making Gabriella an orphan. Before he knew it, he was traveling to that universe and replacing his variant, taking the chance of having a happy life.

As he took the life of his variant, he thought he had it all then. He had a daughter – family at last. He had another purpose in life besides work. He eventually found a partner who he fell in love with quickly, marrying shortly after, solidifying his family. Miguel feels pain as he thinks of his wife now, sweet Adriana. They were happy, the three of them. Miguel finally had what he had dreamt of for so long. What he had longed for. He had the perfect life, at last.

And then it was gone.

That same loneliness returned, except this time it was accompanied by guilt and grief. That fear that he had carried before his discovery of multiverse traveling, returned as well. He was lonely. He had no one. Again. As the days, weeks, and months went on after Gabriella’s universe collapsed, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was his fate. Maybe he was meant to have a lonely life. Maybe that’s why everyone was taken away from him. It was his fate: to be lonely for the rest of his life and to dedicate himself to work. Maybe his entire purpose in life was to protect the fate of the multiverse, so all those people in each universe could have a chance of living happy lives, even if it meant that he couldn’t have that very thing. That was his sacrifice.

“Being Spider-Man is a sacrifice. That’s the job. That’s what you signed up for,” he remembers telling Miles Morales months ago.

“You have a choice between saving one person and saving an entire world. Every world.”

After Gabriella and Adriana, this was his motto. He was sacrificing himself to save every universe. So, he worked day and night again. Forgetting to eat and sleep sometimes. Though sometimes it wasn’t because he forgot. It was a form of punishment. He had destroyed Gabriella and Adriana’s universe. He had ruined their, and millions of other people’s, chance of living happy lives since their universe collapsed.

“Daddy! Dad? Dad! No!”

He forgot to sleep sometimes but he mostly avoided it to avoid the nightmares. He dreamt of Gabriella and Adriana often, but Gabriella made more appearances in his nightmares. Gabriella haunted him more… He didn’t have the chance to see Adriana one last time. They had said their goodbyes in the morning before she went to work. They had kissed goodbye. Their last moment had been peaceful. His memory of her was a sweet and happy one. By the time he realized something was very wrong, she had already ceased to exist, leaving no room for another interaction.

But Gabriella… He held her in his arms as he carried her through the city, his heart racing and hurting from the loss of Adriana. He ran and ran as other Spider-members helped civilians only for them to disappear seconds later. His mind whirled with thoughts as he clutched his daughter, who was terrified and clung to him for comfort and safety, to his chest. He needed to save Gabriella. He needed to protect his daughter. She deserved to live a long life. And then he heard her last words.

“Daddy! Dad? Dad! No!”

Then she ceased to exist right before him, leaving his arms empty. He remembers as he stood there with empty hands, still feeling the warmth of his child. He remembers how her warmth began to fade away, as if she had never been in his arms at all. Her last words echoed through his mind over and over again. His heart felt heavy. Vacant.

He heard her cries in his dreams every night for weeks. Each night he woke up screaming, tears running down his face. He was angry, frustrated, mournful, devastated, and so much more. He felt every imaginable emotion those nights while he paced his empty apartment back in Nueva York. He threw things around, like flipping the dining table and its chairs. He broke and shattered objects. He cursed himself and screamed into the silent night. His cries and screaming went unheard as he lived in the penthouse of his apartment building and owned the two floors under the penthouse, too. There was no one to hear his destruction or his screaming. He eventually stopped sleeping, only succumbing to his exhaustion when his body began to give out.

He was alone. He had caused the collapse of a universe for his own greed, he thought. All to not be alone. All to fill his fantasy of having a family.

He couldn’t even think of friends in the aftermath of everything. If he had been unable to create strong friendships before Gabriella and his wife’s death, now it felt nearly impossible. He didn’t want it. He thought he didn’t deserve friends, especially after the events that happened, involving Miles Morales. He had been wrong. So wrong. He thought he was in the right for so long only to be proven wrong. He wasn’t proud of his actions. He knew everyone else had pushed past it. They had moved on, except him. He took his mistake and punished himself. Once again.

He pushed everyone away. Every single time anyone tried, he pushed them away. Push, push, push. Until they gave up. He couldn’t remember who the last person who had tried was. It was so long ago. No one bothered to try anymore as the spider members knew it was to no avail. Or perhaps they hoped that one day he would come around on his own. But then someone else came along.

As he looked at you, still staring at Peter’s photo, he thought about the things you have done, and continue to do for him. Like the coffee. He knows the cafeteria staff never gave you extra as you had said so many times. He initially waved it off, the way he ignored your gesture the first few times. He eventually grew curious, wondering if it was true that the cafeteria staff gave you extra coffee. He pulled the security cameras’ footage, his curiosity winning. That’s how he learned that your excuses were just excuses. He knew you lied about the coffee, the way you knew he had lied about why he had shown up weeks ago after you went radio silence because of your period. You deliberately took coffee to him, and he didn’t know why. He wondered why you bothered and continued even when he ignored you at first. Even when he left the cup on the table, his sign that he didn’t care. Even when he gave you the bare minimum of a response, you didn’t stop.

Then you offered to start organizing the lab. He remembers the way he wanted to shut down that idea quickly. He didn’t want a random new recruit hanging around the lab, moving his items around but Jess had intervened. She had said the place needed it and he just gave up, too busy to argue with her. Besides, he had been sure that you would only show up once. His first impression of you was that you were too sweet. Too kind. Too warm. Too happy. Miguel felt that he and you were opposites in those early days. He often felt like a dark, gloomy cloud that rained on everybody’s mood. He didn’t care but he was aware that some of the Spider Society members found his mood foul. You on the other hand… you had a smile on your face. You walked around HQ with a lightness, like nothing could possibly bring you down. That’s why he had been sure you would only show up once to organize the lab. You wouldn’t be able to take the silence. You wouldn’t handle being unacknowledged. You were going to stop whatever it was that you were doing by taking him coffee and organizing his lab, the same way that everyone who had ever tried getting close to him had stopped.

But you stayed. You showed up the next week, asking Lyla if you could come in. He remembers pausing from his work as he heard Lyla tell him you were there. You had asked her to ask him if you could come in. He remembers staring at his screen, struck by this. You hadn’t taken the liberty of barging into his lab like other members. You asked for permission first. You respected his space. Before he knew it, he had nodded at Lyla. And there you were, going into his lab to organize the clutter of advanced technology pieces for the second time. And now, he had lost count of how many times you have been there.

He never said anything when you were in the lab, sometimes he acknowledged you by humming, other times he didn’t. But his curiosity had grown. You asked each week if you could enter the lab, and this made him wonder about you. You were also good on missions, or at least he was told so by Jess, who took a liking to you quickly.

Much to his surprise, you had also quickly been incorporated into a friend group. It seemed that you had settled into the Spider Society fast and successfully. This just added to his curiosity and because he had the technology and knowledge at his disposal, he had learned about you. He learned you lost your own version of Peter. He hadn’t allowed himself to see further but this single piece of information made him wonder how you could walk around so happy.

He wondered sometimes as you answered Lyla’s questions while you organized the lab. Of course, he never said anything. He tried his best to ignore the conversations each time, trying to give you and Lyla privacy. But Lyla was loud sometimes, getting too excited. He was never able to fully ignore the conversations that took place between the two of you.

“Okay, okay! Tell me this! What are your comfort foods?” Lyla had asked one time.

“Pasta,” you had answered so fast.

Miguel just listened as Lyla had distracted him that time. He just shook his head discreetly. It seemed that even his AI assistant had taken a liking to you. He just kept working though, trying his best to remain focused but he was brought back to the conversation a few other times. This was an occurrence every week, though he never showed it.

Things remained the same for weeks. Miguel honestly lost count. You kept taking coffee to him and he eventually started nodding at you or giving you a “hmm”. He didn’t know why. He just did one time and then he started doing it here and there.

He also noticed you were punctual each week, something that he valued highly. He didn’t fail to notice how you showed up to do what you had volunteered to do. You never wasted time or slacked even if you could’ve because at the end of the day, it wasn’t your job. Miguel definitely appreciated the organization though, as he started to realize how much faster he found what he was looking for sometimes. Your system of organization helped him immensely.

It was all going well. Or at least it was a good set up. You didn’t mind him not talking. You didn’t mind that he addressed you sometimes, and other times didn’t. You didn’t try to talk to him, asking him questions about this or that about his life the way that other members had tried asking him before. You just did what you had volunteered to do. You were a good member of the Spider Society.

And then one day, or rather that day, he sat in the same conference room at HQ where he always schedules meetings. He had already passed out the reports for the meeting. He was reviewing them, as always, making sure everything was precise for the hundredth time. The minutes were going by, the meeting time getting closer and closer. He had looked up towards the door for some reason, as if he was expecting something at that moment. And then it struck him that you hadn’t shown up yet. He had looked at the time. You had missed your time window. You always arrived earlier than anyone else but when he looked at the door again, there was no sign of you. He remembers sighing deeply and shaking his head, as if trying to clear his mind. The meeting started and ended; your usual seat remained empty. There was no scent of coffee.

After the meeting, Jess made the slight comment to Hobie that your gizmo showed no activity. Neither of them worried though. They walked out of the conference room, chalking your absence to some emergency in your universe. Miguel had simply brushed it off, picking up his items before heading back to his lab. Before he knew it, however, it was time for you to show up at his lab to organize it. He continued working on his monitors as he noticed you hadn’t arrived on time. You were late now but whatever.

“So strange…” Lyla had quietly said.

“What?” Miguel asked as he moved one monitor away, but he knew. He just knew what Lyla was going to say before she even said it and he didn’t know why he knew. He didn’t like that he knew.

“Well – Y/N should’ve arrived by now but she’s not here yet.”

Miguel kept working, narrowing his eyes. “She’s probably just busy.”

“But it’s so unlike her… She would’ve notified you she wasn’t showing up,” Lyla had said, looking at the lab’s door with concern, as if still hoping that you would show up.

And yes, she was right, Miguel had realized. You were that kind of person. That’s when his mind began to drift away from his work. You missed the meeting and now the weekly organization time. You seemed like the type to let someone know you would be unable to show up because of an emergency but you hadn’t. Jess, who was like a mentor to you, hadn’t heard from you. Even one of your friends, Hobie, hadn’t heard from you. There was no activity from your gizmo either.

Miguel stared at one of his screens, his mind filled with these thoughts, his attention away from what he was supposed to focus on. He grunted in slight frustration. Why was he thinking about you? You were probably fine. You probably had something else come up. He wished that Lyla hadn’t said anything. He wished that he hadn’t heard Jessica and Hobie’s comment about the lack of activity from your gizmo. He wished he hadn’t noticed your absence.

He had sighed, closing out the screen in front of him.

“I’m going to run maintenance on you Lyla,” Miguel said, letting her know.

Lyla simply nodded, though she had noticed frustration coming from Miguel. She knew better than to ask and besides, she had a pretty good idea what was going on with Miguel. Miguel wasn’t a heartless person. He was capable of caring even if he wished he didn’t anymore and Lyla could sense that you were on his mind. She wondered if the sudden maintenance decision had to do with you.

And it did. Miguel purposely ran maintenance on Lyla before he traveled to your universe so she wouldn’t know where he was going. He didn’t want Lyla to bug him about it. He was just going to check. That was all. He was just going to verify that there wasn’t something incredibly wrong with your universe. Something that could mess with the fate of the multiverse. Yes, that was it. The fate of the multiverse as always…

So, he showed up to your apartment. It was day and the apartment was dark. It was silent. Too silent. Miguel looked around your apartment. There was no sign of you, and he briefly thought you were probably out and about until he saw the gizmo on your living room’s console table. It looked like it had just been dropped off carelessly. That didn’t sound like you at all, and Miguel fleetingly wondered why he believed that if he hardly knew you. Before he knew it, he was walking towards the room he assumed was the bedroom. And there you were.

His eyes immediately took in the sight of you. You clutched your stomach with your hands. Your eyes were shut, and soft groans escaped from your lips. He remembers moving through your room swiftly as you told him to go away. He knew something was wrong then, you never talked like that. Or at least, he had never heard you talk like that to someone.

And that’s how he spent hours at your apartment that day. It was the first and only time he had stayed at one of his recruits’ homes for that long. He had been invited to dinners before, mostly by Peter, who hosted Friday dinners for his group of friends that had become like a little family. The same one he knew you were a part of now. He now wondered if you attended those dinners, the same ones he never went to.

He only went to his recruits’ homes if it was necessary, staying for a few minutes but now you were the exception. He made homemade rice socks to ease your pain. Before he knew it, he was doing other things he hadn’t done for someone else in years. He washed the two dishes in your sink. Put away the clean ones, learning the ins and outs of your small but clean kitchen. He took out the trash. He checked on you occasionally, noticing that you no longer clutched your stomach and your groans of pain had eased at last. He felt relief to see his efforts had worked. Even your face, which had shown your pain, was relaxed. You slept peacefully, hugging a pillow to your body.

Miguel had watched you for some time, leaning on your bedroom doorway. The last time he had slept that soundly was when he lived in Gabriella’s universe. His worries had eased. His loneliness and restlessness had ceased to burden him. He had a normal sleeping schedule back then. He went to sleep at ten, having put Gabriella to sleep at nine so she would get plenty of sleep. He would then get up at six. He’d make coffee for himself and later, when married, for his wife as well. He made breakfast for Gabriella, ensuring she was always taken care of. He prepared her lunch. Gabriella and he had a schedule. Or well… His variant and Gabriella had a schedule and he had learned it.

Miguel puts those thoughts away now, not wanting to plague you or ruin your celebration. His eyes are still on you, and yours are on Peter’s photograph. The point was that he thought all those that had passed away who still have loved ones alive, are lucky. They are honored, remembered, and loved.

Miguel had no family. He didn’t call his colleagues friends, especially after he pushed them away but as he looked at you, he thought of your gestures, like taking him coffee and organizing his lab. He thought about the fact that he had shown up at your apartment and stayed for so long. He thought about how you had calmed him the following day when he discovered Lyla had hidden photos and videos of his family. He thought about how you were now being vulnerable with him, letting him in on something so personal the same way he had with you weeks ago.

As he looked at you and all these thoughts flooded his mind, his fear of dying alone and having no one to mourn or remember him dissipated in that moment. Maybe he would never find someone to love again. He didn’t know if he could love like that again. He didn’t know if he was ever going to have a child again… He knew Gabriella wasn’t his biologically, but it was as if she had been. It hadn’t mattered to him. She was his daughter. Su hija.

Mi niña, Miguel could not stop himself from thinking, remembering her and hearing her voice in his head. A warmness spread through his chest.

Maybe he was never going to have a family again. Maybe it really was his fate to live the rest of his life like this, and Miguel just needed to accept it but… as he looked at you and thought of what you had done for him so far, he couldn’t help but feel some assurance that maybe there would be someone, you, who would show up to his funeral one day. He knew Peter and Jess would, too. Even if none of you were family, he felt a little relief. He hid it well but as he looked at you, there was some appreciation from your boss. His fear had settled for once and it was thanks to you.

You, who hid your grief and loss so well from everyone. You, who had let him in. You, who was showing him, the way he had shown you. He wanted to say something then, but he didn’t know how to say it. Miguel wasn’t so great at expressing his feelings these days. It had been a long time since he had.

You suddenly look at him, meeting his eyes.

“You know… I’ve done this each year since his passing. This is the first time someone else has joined me and…” you pause. “Thank you for not judging me and for joining me,” you say at last.

“I would never judge you or anyone for this… I understand as much as I understand how – hard it is to let someone have a glimpse of these moments,” Miguel says slowly and quietly, his tone is full of sincerity and understanding. “I know how hard it is… how much it takes to allow someone in… thank you,” he says, meaning it. You had let him in the way he had let you in that day he discovered the secret photos and videos.

You nod, feeling a warmness spread through your own chest. It was difficult to let someone else in. This is why you never mentioned it to your friends. Besides, they had all gone through their own loss in some way. The last thing you wanted was to add your own to theirs. You sigh. “That’s why I lied to Lyla.”

He nods back, with a knowing look. “Lyla can be a little judgmental sometimes, so I don’t blame you at all.”

You chuckle lightly. “That she can be sometimes… She said earlier that going to bookstores wasn’t considered something fun,” you say, shaking your head.

Miguel tilts his head, remembering that part of the conversation. He had heard it unwillingly. “Lyla’s idea of fun is different from ours, I guess.”

Now you tilt your head. “You like to read?”

Miguel nods and then sighs. “Yes, but I don’t read much these days,” he says, trying to remember when the last time he read a book was. It was when Gabriella and his wife were still alive. Before he knows it, he begins to speak. “I stopped after… We used to go to the bookstore each weekend. Gabriella also enjoyed reading.”

You smile sadly and sigh, understanding. “It takes a long time to be able to do some of the things you used to do with them.” You pause. “It’s hard.”

Miguel nods, knowing as well. This showed up in many ways for him. Like cooking or reading. The day he cooked pasta for you was the first time he had cooked in years, and he had cooked that specifically because he had heard you say it was a comfort food. Miguel sighs softly. He feels comforted knowing he isn’t the only one who can’t do specific things after losing his loved ones. He, however, hopes that your standard of living is better than his. He knows he doesn’t sleep or eat well sometimes. He doesn’t rest and relax. He hopes that you are not like him. He hopes you have it better in those aspects. As he looks at you, he hopes you have a chance of one day moving on and possibly finding someone else in the future.

He wonders if you are even open to the possibility, but he doesn’t ask, as it’s something very personal. The two of you fall into silence but it’s not an uncomfortable one. You are two people, sharing grief and loss in that moment. You eye the cake and look up at him.

“Do you want to take some with you?” you ask him.

Miguel looks at you and nods. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

You nod and start cutting him a few slices before you move around your kitchen, finding a container to put the cake in. You can feel Miguel’s eyes on you as you search but it doesn’t bother you.

“So – if you don’t mind me asking, what kind of books do you like?” you ask, as you find a container but not the lid. You frown as you search for it.

Miguel watches you from behind. It seems that you can’t find a lid and he finds this amusing for some reason. He clears his throat and thinks about your question.

“I used to enjoy sci-fi books.”

You nod as you search deeper in your cabinet. Where the hell is that lid, you wonder briefly before you reply.

“You know… that makes sense,” you say, as you move some lids around.

“And history books,” Miguel adds behind you.

You turn at that. “I like – or well, I used to read historical fiction.”

Miguel stares at you intently, with a look on his face that feels like he might smile at any moment because his lips move slightly. You turn away to keep looking for that damn lid.

Miguel continues watching you.

“Mind if I look at your bookshelf?” he asks, and you pause.

“Oh – no. Go ahead,” you say, surprised as you continue to look for the lid.

You hear him stand up and move across your apartment. You look behind your shoulder, taking a peek at him in the corner where your bookshelf is located before you look for the lid. You move a container and there it is. You pull it out just as you hear him talk.

“You have a lot of these books,” he comments, making you wonder what he’s talking about.

You place the container with leftover cake on the counter and walk over to him.

“What kind?” you ask, as you stand next to him, eyeing the book he’s holding.

You freeze as you recognize the cover when he turns it over, apparently reading the back of it.

“These books with animated covers. Romcoms?” he asks, eyeing the cute, animated book cover.

You clear your throat and nod, feeling a little heat rise to your cheeks. He puts it away to your relief but then pulls out another one to your dismay.

“Hmm,” Miguel lets out as he reads the back.

“Yeah, it’s just romcoms… I went through a phase a few years ago. I also like mystery, like… This one,” you say, spotting a book you remember is in the mystery genre. This is your attempt to take his attention from the misleading romcom books but when you turn to Miguel to show him the other book, you see him flipping through it.

Fuck. You just stare and hope that he doesn’t land on one of those pages. To your relief his face remains the same as he flips through it before he puts it away and takes the one you are offering him. You sigh quietly in relief that he didn’t read anything that might change his opinion about you. Miguel nods as he reads the synopsis.

“Sounds interesting,” he mutters with furrowed brows, placing the book back where you got it from. “I’ll keep it in mind if I ever return to the habit of reading.”

You nod slowly. “I hear that,” you say, looking at the books you have bought over the last three years but haven’t read yet.

The two of you stand there, in front of your bookshelf, closely. You suddenly feel like you’re too close to him, but he doesn’t seem to mind as his eyes scan the books. He seems genuinely interested in the titles.

Miguel finally turns to you. He has spent more time than he anticipated but he’s okay with it… He feels oddly at peace right now, standing before your overflowing bookshelf with books that contain… interesting content to say the least. Miguel clears his throat, trying to forget what he partially read. No wonder you were trying to get him another book, he realizes, feeling amused but also intrigued by this. This has added another layer to you, making you even more interesting to him.

Miguel sighs. “It’s getting late. I should probably head back to Nueva York… You probably need rest, too,” he says softly.

“Yeah – I guess it’s late now,” you say looking at a clock on your wall, realizing it is quite late now.

Miguel nods, stepping back and taking a few steps away from you. He begins to click on his gizmo, preparing to leave. “Oh, my cake,” he says, suddenly remembering and reminding you.

You nod and walk to the kitchen section, retrieving the container. You walk back to him, handing it to him. Miguel takes the container gently from you.

“Thank you,” he says, softly but laced with something else like appreciation. You can’t help but feel that his thank you is not just for the cake though. You push it away, not knowing that Miguel O’Hara’s constant fear of dying alone has been settled thanks to you tonight.

You smile up at him. “Thank you,” you say full of gratitude. “Your presence tonight… It helped me,” you admit, hoping it’s not too much for Miguel and it isn’t, or at least it doesn’t appear so because he nods with a calm face.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he responds, meaning it as he feels it’s the least he could do after you helped him diminish his fear. He looks down at the container, making you look at it, too. It looks so small in his large hands.

Miguel gives you one last nod before he opens a multidimensional portal, making objects in your small apartment float. He looks at the items and gives you an apologetic look. You chuckle.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, and he nods again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at HQ,” he says as he steps into the portal.

“See you tomorrow” you say with a small wave as he begins walking into the portal.

A few seconds later, he disappears completely before the portal itself begins to fade. You watch as the floating objects begin to descend slowly the more the portal fades until they fall, the portal closing.

You sigh as you look around. Another birthday for Peter but at least this time was different. You can’t help but feel glad you accidentally left your mask earlier as you begin to put the objects away. Miguel really helped tonight as you would’ve probably cried more if he hadn’t shown up suddenly.

You walk to the record player, which at this point has stopped playing. You remove the current vinyl and place another one, one that’s lighter on your emotions right now. You head to the kitchen and clean up by yourself, feeling good. Once done, you turn and face Peter’s photograph.

“Happy Birthday, love. I really hope you had a great one. I hope you didn’t mind that my boss showed up but at least you’ve met him now,” you say with a smile. You plant a kiss on your fingertips and then bring them to the photograph, right on Peter’s lips. “Thank you… for everything you ever did for me, Peter. I love you,” you whisper, staring at the photo for a few more seconds before you turn the record player and lamps off, and head to bed, feeling pleased with today.

Back in Nueva York, Earth-928, Miguel steps out of the portal but not into his lab. He steps out into his penthouse, for the first time in weeks. He looks around the dark penthouse for a few seconds and with a single voice command, the lights turn on. Miguel blinks, adjusting to the light. He heads to the kitchen and places the container in the fridge. He’ll have more of it tomorrow, he thinks as he heads to the bedroom. He enters it and looks at the bed for a few seconds before he deactivates his suit, leaving him in his boxers. He climbs into bed, feeling odd at first but as he relaxes his body, he feels the exhaustion take over him as he thinks of what happened tonight in your dimension. He feels at peace for once.

For the first time in over a month, Miguel O’Hara begins to fall asleep on his bed.

And for the first time in years, he has no nightmares.

---------------------

Translation for italicized words: Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Dead Ofrenda - Altar for Day of the Dead Su hija - His/Her daughter Mi niña – My girl (daughter)

Lowkey laughing at myself right now. I ended up splitting the last part because it was too long, only for me to do it again but this time, I’m leaving it. I had planned to talk a little more of Miguel's past before Gabriella and I hurt my own feelings with that. I just want to give this man a tight hug, good food, bathe him in affection, and take care of him!!! Side note, I can't wait for BTSP to see more of his story because we literally know nothing!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this and I’m sorry if I made you sad with Miguel’s point of view. I hope I made it up with the ending though 😊 I also want to add that I previously thought this was only going to be like four or five parts, but I think it’s going to be at least six or seven parts now as I don’t want to rush things between Miguel and the reader because I don’t think Miguel (and reader) would immediately jump into a relationship. It’s going to take some time and I want to explore more moments with them to make it as realistic as possible. Also, just realized it’s been two weeks since I first posted part one. Crazy! Thank you again for the support, it’s greatly appreciated!

I still love Miguel. That's all.

Tag List: (It seems I finally found a way to tag those that I was unable to last time, apologies for that)

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @rootin-tootin-morgan @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub

To the people below, I had to tag you in the comments because it wouldn't let me on the post, idk why :(

@mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @mandodinstuff @muzansucker

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