Two Spiders One Line (Very Inconsistent Updates)

10 - Backstabber

Peter's POV
    After my outing with MJ, I headed home, ready to get some sleep. No criminals, I supposed they all worked for Krieger. I've got to remember to thank Simon for the easier patrols when I land him in prison.

When I reached my apartment, I realized, like, really realized that Miles had just left. Without a care, without a worry. He could've just talked to me instead of siding with the enemy.

So, where had I gone wrong? I groaned and dragged a hand over my face. I needed help. That much was certain. I shrugged, reaching the conclusion that I'd go for it the next day. After checking the police scanner once more and not hearing any crime reports, I laid down and went to sleep.

The next morning/ 3pm, I quickly left my apartment and swung as quickly as I could to Harlem. She was great at giving advice. The person who lived in Harlem —not the burrow.

I put on my street clothes then entered the building as I attempted to fix my hair. Then, before I knew it, I was knocking on the door. Then I thought about something. What if this is a bad idea? I mean, I was just stopping by at a random time of day. And... I didn't want to be more of a burden to her than I already was. She probably didn't even want to see me anyway. I turned to walk away but the door opened. "Peter?" I turned to face her.

"Hey. Ms. Morales." I gave her a small smile.

"What a nice surprise. Uh, come on in. I just finished making some pancakes." I tilted my head slightly. Pancakes for late lunch? "Miles wanted pancakes so... Anyway, it's always a treat to have you. Come in." She smiled widely at me and opened the door wider so I could step in the cozy home. "Um. Miles? Is he..."

"Yes. He's in his room making a horrible racket. He calls it his 'fresh beat'. But honestly, I wouldn't call it that." She rambled on as she flipped a few pancakes on a plate already full of them.

My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since the morning before. Two burnt slices of wheat toast if I was being specific. But with my metabolism, I wasn't sure how I hadn't already passed out. Maybe my metabolism was the reason I hadn't passed out yet. Thankfully, Rio Morales made the best pancakes in the world. Like my aunt had made the best wheat cakes in the world.

"M'híjo! The food is ready!" She called. Immediately, the weird noise that I had tuned out stopped. I considered leaving the place to avoid Miles. But I knew I couldn't forever. He emerged from the hallway, and we made eye contact. He smiled at me. Which was... Interesting, to say the least. But he was probably just putting on an act for his mom.

I tilted my head at him, wordlessly asking him,'What's up?' He shrugged. He was acting very normal, though. And it was scary. He took a seat. And he took the one next to me! While his mom went to go grab plates, he leaned over and whispered to me, "Listen, dude. This whole act. Is for my mom. I don't want her asking questions."

"So... You are mad at me..."

He sighed. "Not mad. Just... Whatever. I'll talk to you later..." He whispered his sentence. But it sounded like he said it mostly for himself. Rio brought out the pancakes. I then questioned myself. Did I really need advice from her that bad to just impose on their meal?

After we ate, Rio announced that she needed to head to her office to check for the mail. So she left, leaving just Miles and I alone in the kitchen, washing dishes. "So..." I started. Miles handed me a plate to rinse, and I did so, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "You're mad at me."

"No. Are you mad at me?" He asked in a small voice.

"No." I responded in shock. Why would I be mad at him? Then it dawned on me—he was feeling guilty. "I don't know..." he murmured. Then he stopped washing abruptly to look at me. "I need your help, man." I tilted my head at his sudden statement. "I know you don't like her. But Ms. Spider-Duchess is missing. And has been for days now." I scoffed.