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(ITB) ISSUE #5: SECRETS SHARED
🕑 Added 2025-05-10 04:00:05 +0000 UTCBrockton Bay never really slept, not even in its quietest hours. Sirens still echoed in the distance. Dogs barked and growled at passers-by, and even the wind whooshed and howled as the chill of the earlier rain bit through the layers she wore.
Taylor sat on the edge of an old billboard, hunched in silence. Her swarm formed lazy orbits around her—not alert, not agitated, just there. Present. Like they were waiting, too.
Miles sat a few feet away, sketchbook balanced on his knees, pen gliding in slow, graceful arcs and lines. He hadn’t said much since they climbed up here. But he hadn’t left either. He stayed, even when the silence stretched long between them.
It should’ve felt awkward. It didn’t.
There was something oddly grounding about it. Maybe that was why she hadn’t left yet.
She was the one who broke the silence, though she did so without looking at him:
“Was there… someone? In your world. Someone who taught you how to do all this?”
He didn’t answer right away. He finished a line in his drawing first, paused, then nodded.
“Two someones,” he said. “Peter… and Gwen.”
Taylor tilted her head slightly, not interrupting.
“Peter Parker was the first Spider-Man,” he said, voice oddly mournful. “The guy everyone looked up to. I did, too. He died saving our city. Everyone knew who he was by the end.”
There was weight in the pause that followed.
“And Gwen?” she asked.
“Spider-gwen. The second Spider-person I met, or technically first—I just didn't know her then, but we were in the same school. We were… friends. Close. Sometimes I think we could’ve been more, if things were different.”
From his tone, she could tell he didn't embellish his words. No dramatic beats either. Just the truth, spoken softly.
“What happened?” Taylor asked.
“The multiverse happened,” he said with a small, humorless laugh. “Universes crashing into each other, mostly because of this guy—Spot; long story—tearing holes through them. We were trying to stop him before it all collapsed.” He hesitated, his voice softening. “I was trying to save my dad. From becoming part of my… canon event.”
Taylor said nothing. But in the pause that followed, realization settled over her. Apart from the day he had told her, she never thought much of it. That he was from another world. That he had another life. With people who loved him. People who were probably still waiting for him.
People who thought he was probably dead by now.
“Gwen and I—we both lost someone,” he continued. “Her Peter. My uncle Aaron. That kind of grief… it connects you. Even when you don’t talk about it.”
Taylor looked down at her gloved hands, then back at him.
“I’m sorry. About your uncle. And Gwen’s Peter.”
Her voice carried the same mournfulness, but hers was the sound of an old wound: scarred over, not fully healed. “I lost my mom two years ago from a car crash. I know it’s not the same, but… it still hollowed something out of me. Still does.”
She exhaled slowly. “You try to keep moving, like it didn’t break you. Like if you just stay focused, maybe the feelings won’t catch up.”
Her eyes flicked up to meet his. “I’ve never met someone like me before. Someone who gets it.”
“You’re not like me,” Miles replied. “You’re better. At the beginning, I mean.”
That pulled something sharp and disbelieving in her chest. She almost scoffed—but the words didn’t come. Because she didn’t believe it. Not really. She was still figuring everything out as she went. Still improvising. Still wondering where the last line was, and if she’d know when she finally crossed it.
Miles closed his sketchbook with care, then slid it across the rooftop to her.
She picked it up.
He had drawn her. Hunched where she sat now, outlined in stark black and gray. Her swarm was draped down her back like a cape—stylized, definitely, but not romanticized. He captured the moment without softening it. Her posture wasn't warm or inviting, and there was no softness to the curve in her spine. Just sheer focus. Caution. Like someone waiting for the next bad thing to come.
He always seemed to see her. But till date, neither of them knew how the other looked beneath their masks.
“I approached you because even though you looked new at this,” he said, “you looked strong. Not just physically. Within, too.”
Taylor stared at the image for a long time. No one had ever drawn her before; now she had been drawn twice already, mere days apart.
She closed the book and slid it back.
“Why do you keep helping?” she asked.
Miles leaned back, gazing up at the cloudless sky. “Because someone helped me. Even when I didn’t think I deserved it.”
Taylor looked up too. Despite how vast it was compared to her, somehow, it felt less lonely looking up with someone else.
“Most people don’t help,” she said. “They just look away.”
“Then we’re not most people.”
That made her turn. Look at him.
He didn’t pretend to have answers. He just kept showing up.
Maybe that was enough.
“Thanks,” she murmured. “For drawing me.”
Miles shrugged, but she could hear the smile in his voice.
“Just being honest.”
Comments
OnAHiatus
Nope. It will end well; that's why it will be short
Dragonin
I walked for Miles before I found you... Hopefully this doesn't end in the way most Spider Man stories do.
