#cpr with rescue breaths
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cpr on a sex doll
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Breathe, Damn You!
Warnings: rescue, torture, electrocution, shock, cpr, restraints
Caretaker surged forward the moment that Whumper had been secured. They had to get to Whumpee. Had to make sure Whumpee was ok.
Whumper had restrained Whumpee at the wrists and ankles so that they were standing and attached to a metal bed frame. Whumpee was slumped over, all their weight being held on their wrists. The electrodes attached to their chest trailed down to the car battery that Whumper had been using to torture them for who knows how long.
“Whumpee?” Caretaker called as they turned off the battery, shocking themself in the process. But it didn’t compare to the hours of electrocution that Whumpee faced.
Whumpee didn’t respond. Caretaker couldn’t even see if they were breathing. When Caretaker and the others had breached the room, Whumper had flipped the switch on to the highest setting, delivering what had to be an incredibly painful shock to Whumpee. Caretaker would never forget Whumpee’s shrieking as long as they lived. The shrieking and then silence.
“Whumpee?” Caretaker said again as they reached Whumpee.
Whumpee didn’t respond, but continued to hang in their restraints. Their eyes were closed and their jaw slack.
With a sinking heart, Caretaker pressed their fingers to the pulse in Whumpee’s throat. But no beat came. “Hang on. Whumpee, hang on!” Caretaker quickly began to pry the cuffs off Whumpee’s ankles. Despite having the key to the cuffs, they were still hard to remove. “Hold on,” Caretaker said as they supported Whumpee while removing the wrist cuffs. Whumpee was not being freed fast enough. They weren’t breathing. They had no pulse. But Caretaker had to get Whumpee free before they could help them.
As Whumpee slumped forward onto Caretaker once Caretaker had freed their wrists, Caretaker quickly got to work. There was no time. They began to pump Whumpee’s chest. “Come on, Whumpee. Come on.”
Whumpee had to wake, had to breathe. Caretaker just found them. Caretaker found them. Whumper had been stopped! “Please, Whumpee. Please.”
Caretaker paused to give a rescue breath as Whumpee continued to remain pale and still. “Breathe, damn you! Breathe!” Caretaker urged. They couldn’t lose Whumpee. Not like this.
“Damn it, Whumpee. Breathe!”
Caretaker’s pleas were suddenly interrupted by Whumpee’s sudden sharp breath. Caretaker sagged with relief, rubbing Whumpee’s chest as Whumpee coughed and sucked in air. “You’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok,” they murmured. Because Whumpee was ok. And that’s all that mattered.
#serickswrites#whump#whumpblr#whump writing#whump community#tw rescue#tw torture#tw electrocution#tw shock#tw cpr#juneofdoom#june of doom 2023#day 8#breathe damn you!#prompt: shock#queue#tw restraints
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Cold Shock
M/M - Semi SFW (minor NSFW hints)
Part 6:
_______________________________
Straddling his boyfriend's hips, Austin places a hand in the centre of Keiran's chest, his skin unnervingly cold, and begins slow, shallow compressions. The monitor displays a slight disturbance inbetween each bradycardic heartbeat as Austin's strength forces Keiran's ribcage inwards. With his free hand, Austin picks up a bag valve mask and switches it with the oxygen mask, reattaching the oxygen cannister.
"Here honey, I'll help you. Keep breathing Keiran, be strong" encourages Austin as he forces air into the boy's soaked lungs. The patient monitor shows a slight rise in oxygen saturation, however, Keiran's heart rate has become slower still - his pulse invisible to Austin.
With each passing minute, the strength slowly drains from Keiran's body until a final lone breath passes his pretty blueish lips. The alert of the patient monitor sears through Austin's head, a wave of dizziness washing over him.
No, NO he can't be dead! How could I let this happen?!
"Baby breathe for me, please!" begs Austin as he harshly rubs at Keiran's unmoving chest, his usual measured personality falling apart.
"Open those pretty eyes of yours Angel, you can do it! " he pleaded, his fingers brushing Keiran's soft cheek.
With tears swelling in his eyes, Austin begins deep, perfect compressions; the years of training from his parents firm in his mind as everything else falls apart.
Keiran's electrode - covered, perfect chest unnaturally flexes underneath Austin's strong arms, a choked spray of water escaping his blue lips with each forceful compression. Discarding the seemingly useless BVM, Austin briefly stops to gentle cradle Keiran's head in his hands, tenderly lifting his chin and watching his soft lips fall open. He locks his lips with his boyfriend's, almost like a kiss but lacking the passion in the boy's eyes, and firmly blows. Keiran's chest gingerly flutters before quickly falling, expelling a pinkish foam from his mouth with a gutteral sound.
#cardiophilia#male resus#gay boys#medfet community#resuscitation#dark cardiophilia#male cpr#ecg#cpr resus#resus#rescue breathing
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Carlos is resuscitated, given Narcan.
9-1-1 Lone Star: 4x04 “Abandoned”
#911 lone star spoilers#911 ls spoilers#911 lone star#911 ls#tarlos#carlos reyes#tk strand#gabriel reyes#whump#whump video#drug overdose#cpr#chest compressions#rescue breathing#respiratory arrest#cardiac arrest#OTP#narcan
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The first Zelda game I ever played was BotW, that was when it came out about 7 1/2 years ago. At the time I thought that link, being 17 or 18, was an adult. Now that I am also 17, almost 18, it just like hammered in how young he actually is.
Like if I was in that position I wouldn’t even be able to make it off the great plateau
17 and 18 is quite young, it’s true. I think teenagers are more capable of stepping up to occasions than society gives them credit for, but also anybody who is a teenager is still a kid to me LOL
But give yourself credit, lovely, you’d probably get farther than me! 😂
#you ask skye answers#lovely anon#I relate a lot to teenagers in adult situations tho since I started doing rescue squad when I was a teenager#When you do CPR on somebody and ride in the back of the ambulance with dead bodies it tends to change your perspective lol#But anyway yes Link and Zelda are both very young!#breath of the wild link#breath of the wild
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Kendi Düşen Ağlamaz 6. Bölüm
CPR/drowning - requested by anonymous
#turkish#turkish series#whump#male whump#can't swim#drowning#difficulty breathing#unconscious#cpr#resuscitation#coughing up water#kendi düşen ağlamaz#yiğit kalkavan#no initial rescue breaths?#this is not what i was taught#but it is what it is
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i know tv shows can't do cpr for real, but sometimes they fake it better than others, and when they fake it badly... 😬 hoo boy
#''c'mon! breathe!'' says the person doing a Very Bad imitation of chest compressions while other people sit nearby doing NOTHING#listen i've never even taken a cpr class and i know that you have one person do chest compressions while someone else does rescue breaths#and i'm pretty sure you're supposed to. yknow. save your breath for actually doing the chest compressions? bc they're hard?#cpr doesn't work irl as it does in tv land but i'm willing to forgive a lot... it's the combination of factors that's making me complain#anyway. this is the season where langston shows up so idk how much more i'm watching#the gsr is feeling worse and worse. idk how i was okay with it before... the audience was supposed to be invested in this working out??#unrealistic. blocked#also greg cries after warrick dies and later sara holds his hand. idk how i'm supposed to be okay with that either 😭#csi#my favorite#tv shows#yeah still#personal#abbie needs a twitter
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I thought odz shippers with their weird "past-lovers coded" and "closest to canon" thing were delusional and even a subsection of skk shippers with their weird rage over other ships were deranged but a good chunk of sgzai shippers legit think sgzai is actually canon after knowing each other for 20 minutes and they can be "interpreted as having kissed". Like bro...I get silly little jokes about it and headcanons but there was no such possible interpretation. You cant just take a scene that is explicitly not something and has an important impact and claim a fucking smooch happened. Ya'll are really sitting there reducing everything in that moment from Sigma finally realizing he can trust people and Dazai's crippling fear into a damn kiss...
#not to mention the whole cpr/rescue breathing thing being turned into a kiss rubs me the wrong way#can we just stop using cpr as a romantic trope#its creepy predatory and just flat out weird#everyone was so quick to hop onto the dont kiss someone during a panic attack thing#but we are somehow still romanticising cpr???#like the misinformation is WILD#bro took 'its canon to me😌' too literally
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grateful that today I DIDN'T have to do CPR
#context: my housemate's boyfriend passed out#he wasnt breathing and my housemate rushed to get me#thankfully he was awake again and standing up (bruh.) by the time we got back#(probably less than a minute after he passed out)#did call an ambulance#but they triaged and were gonna take ages to get there#so his parents picked him up#tried to get them to go to urgent care tonight but theyre going to get him checked out tomorrow#anyway people#know your DRSABCD!#Danger Response Send for help Airways Breathing Compressions Defibrilator#also gonna get me a cpr mask for my keychain and one for the first aid kit#rescue breaths arent essential but its good if you can do them#swooflia posts#gratitude#cpr
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Please, God, I've never asked you for anything; please make sure my baby is okay.
Simon carries you in his arms, balaclava thrown away a long time ago as he drags your body to shore, bare hands desperately removing your vest like it's a barnacle stuck to your shell. He places his ear next to your mouth and nose, eyes closing in relief for a second when he can feel your faint, cold breathing.
He doesn't waste any time on starting CPR, the heels of his palms pressing down on your chest hard, making sure to avoid your ribs. Your lips are blue and you're barely breathing, body cold and eyelashes dotted with tiny specks of ice from the frozen water.
Please, don't take her from me. Please, God.
He keeps pressing down on your chest, trying his best to make the water in your lungs come out despite the way his vision gets blurrier by the second. His lips press against yours, giving you two rescue breaths before he goes back to doing CPR.
His heart almost jumps out of his chest when he hearts you cough, cold hands desperately grasping for anything you can touch before he forces you on your side, allowing you to cough out the water that made its way into your lungs.
Your eyes open slowly and he gives you space to regain your breath despite the way his entire body aches to hug you. His hand cups your cheek, thumb massaging the cold skin gently in hopes of giving you some warmth.
''I'm here, baby.'' He says softly, taking a deep breath to keep the dam from breaking once you manage to give him a lethargic hug, confused and in pain, yet its pure muscle memory to hold him the moment your eyes meet his.
#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#simon riley#ghost cod#call of duty#simon ghost x reader#cod mw2#simon riley x reader#cod mwii#simon riley x you#mw2 simon riley#simon riley imagine#ghost simon riley#ghost x f!reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#ghost x female reader#simon x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost call of duty#ghost angst#hurt/comfort#angst with a happy ending#simon riley drabble#drabble#mw2 angst#simon riley angst#cod angst#angst
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CPR Mask
CPR Mask Material=silicone; Flow rate=4-lpm-to-6-lpm; Inlet ports=; Tube length=; Device classification=class-i;Shop Online at Medzer.com
#CPR face mask#rescue mask#emergency resuscitation#CPR equipment#life-saving device#rescue breaths#CPR preparedness#medzer
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“dylan, come on buddy, breathe” jack says to dylan after they’ve just rescued him from being like 50 feet underwater & are not even doing the slightest hints of an attempt at cpr -
#( the smallest planet with the biggest heart // ooc )#( mobile )#(like bud i think it’s gonna take a lil more than just telling him to breathe-)#(& the fact that the only ‘cpr’ they do is danny giving him like a little slap on the chest)#(i mean it works but - don’t call the horsemen for a water rescue mission goddamn 😭)#(i say this all w nothing but love)
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Cold Shock
M/M - Semi SFW (some NSFW hints)
Part 2
Part 1
Part 4
Part 5
Part 3:
Keiran's chest and stomach convulse with violent coughing, a spray of fluid leaving his mouth. Austin continues to slowly press upwards into Keiran's chest, forcing his wet lungs to exhale; his neck bulging as more water forces a path up his throat.
"Well done, it'll be over soon sweetheart." as Austin gently strokes Keiran's cheek. His smooth chest lurches upwards as he throws his head back - taking strained gasps.
"Shh, calm down handsome, you're safe." Coos Austin, taking his hands away from from Keiran and moving to kneel next to him. He gently places a hand underneath the boy's chin and tilts his head backwards - the smooth skin on his flawless neck stretching taut and his bulging Adam's apple jumping as he tries to gulp down air. Austin's other hand rests on Keiran's chest, just over his left pectoral; he can feel a weak pulse rocking the muscle as his semi-conscious boyfriend's struggling heart arrhythmically beats. The gaps between convulsions gradually become longer as the last hacking coughs escape his pale lips.
"Good boy Keiran, just focus on breathing for me." Reassures Austin, still grasping Keiran's jaw while looking over him for injuries. Over the next few minutes, colour gradually returns to the boy's athletic body; Keiran's breathing is strained but his pulse slowly returns to a normal speed and rythm - about 60bpm.
"Can you hear me darling?" Questions Austin as Keiran's face twitches, the first movement in minutes.
"Aus..." Groans Keiran as his eyes flutter open, he's barely conscious and remains still on the floor.
"It's me love, Austin. You'll be OK." Replies Austin while rubbing Keiran's arm in reassurance. His own heart finally slowing down now that his boyfriend is responsive.
"I c-can't breathe w-well." Gasps Keiran between shaky breaths, beginning to hyperventilate.
"I know, I know love. Calm down, you're safe now" Answers Austin in a soft tone while he gently strokes his boyfriend's cheek. They stay there for around half an hour, Austin closely monitoring Keiran. The rise and fall of the boy's chest slowly becoming more regular.
"We need to get you home, I can help you feel better there." Kindly says Austin as he loosely wraps the towel around Keiran's body and gently slides him arms underneath him. Keiran shows no resistance as he's picked up, his eyes cosed while he drifts in and out of consciousness. Austin begins to slowly walk to his house with his boyfriend in his arms, feeling the weak movement of the boy's chest against his own.
#cardiophilia#gay boys#male resus#resuscitation#medfet community#male cpr#dark cardiophilia#rescue breathing#cardiophile
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We’re in This Together - Ch. 10
For more info or chapter index, see overview post
DISCLAIMER: I do not own own Voyager or any of the characters in this fic (except for the aliens. Those were my creation.)
*This story is not beta-read and has not been edited or proof-read in any way! This was just something I threw together over the past three days and decided to post as my first entry on this site!*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER TEN
For a moment, there was nothing but the black emptiness of unconsciousness. No noise. No worries. No thoughts. All that existed was the darkness, and the vast endless void that came with sleep. Time didn’t matter here. It didn’t matter whether hours had passed, or months. It was all the same here. Nothing mattered. It was as close to time travel as humanity would - likely- ever get.
Then, with a jolt, B’Elanna lurched back into consciousness. Coughing violently as a sea load of water was expelled from her lungs. As the light rushed back in, so did the pain. Every muscle in her body ached, and she felt like she’d gone through the Klingon Rite of Passage Ceremony fifty times over.
For three whole seconds, she had no idea where she was. No recollection of what had happened. Of the flood, of the Arachnomen, of the mission for dilithium.
Then, it all came flooding back to her. The force of her memories rivalled that of the current itself, crashing through her without mercy.
The water. Them crashing down towards the bottom of the ravine. Janeway—
The engineer gasped. With a surge of panic, she sat up, looking around frantically for her Captain.
Scanning the room, her eyes quickly landed on a figure splayed across the ground on the other side of the cavern. B’Elanna pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the thrumming of her head, and the aching of her ankle as she surged towards the unconscious woman.
She pressed her fingers against the Captain’s neck, hands shaking as she desperately searched for a pulse. Her panic only deepened as she found none.
“No!” She gasped, getting on her knees, and starting to apply chest compressions.
“Come on, Captain! Don’t give up on me now!”
She leaned down, giving one rescue breath before returning to CPR.
Two inches deep. One-hundred beats per minute she told herself as she worked.
One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Breath!
“Please, Captain! Don’t tell me you’re gonna let a little water get the best of you?!”
One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Breath!
“Please!”
To her relief, just as she was starting her next round of compressions, Janeway convulsed. B’Elanna turned her Captain onto her side as she coughed up water onto the ground beside her. Her body shook violently both from the effort of the coughs, and the energy snapped out of her from the whole ordeal.
B’Elanna rammed her hand hard into Janeway’s back, helping her to expel the last of the water. When it became clear that there was nothing more in her lungs, Kathryn slowly rolled back onto her stomach. She was breathing heavily, and she closed her eyes as the entire world seemed to swim around her.
A harsh blow to her right shoulder forced her eyes open though. She looked up to see a thoroughly pissed B’Elanna Torres sitting over her, arms crossed.
“I told you not to do that to me again!”
Janeway laughed, pushing herself up onto shaky elbows as she did so. Her Chief Engineer smiled in response, helping Kathryn sit up as she chuckled.
Once she was upright, though, B’Elanna grew serious again. “Why didn’t you let go?”
Kathryn sighed, reaching out and taking the engineer’s hand in her’s, “I wasn’t going to leave you.”
Her Chief Engineer let out a teary, relieved, exasperated sigh, “pardon me, Captain, but that was incredibly stupid.”
Janeway smiled, suddenly feeling very tired as she leaned forward onto the Lieutenant’s shoulder, “I’ll blame it…” the woman took a deep, wheezy breath “..on the venom.”
B’Elanna frowned, placing two firm hands on her Captain’s shoulders.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Janeway nodded tiredly, responding with an “I’m fine” almost on instinct.
Lieutenant Torres pulled Janeway off her shoulder, taking her face in her hand, and examining it thoroughly. As she did, her expression deflated, “no you’re not. You’re really pale, and you’re still burning up.”
Kathryn blinked slowly, her head lolled forward as she raised her hand in a nonchalant gesture.
“It’ll be fine.” She breathed.
B’Elanna took a deep breath, giving the room another sweep with her eyes. As she did, she noticed dozens of bones scattered around the cave. Immediately she thought of the Arachnoman in the ancient ruins, and her stomach churned. Pushing the thought aside, she threw the Captain’s arm over her shoulder and hauled the both of them up.
“We better get you out of here. This is a pretty open space, and I don’t want to get attacked with you not feeling well.”
Kathryn tried to keep her feet under her as they started walking. B’Elanna was grateful that even now, with the Captain as sick as she was, she still had enough fight to try and walk herself. Even the little amount of help did wonder’s for B’Elanna’s somewhat sprained ankle, and definitely concussed brain.
The cavern they were in was a dead end, meaning there was really only one way for them to go right now. Up.
As they walked past the droplets of water scattered across the ground, B’Elanna laughed.
“I guess next time we ask for more water, we should be a little more specific, huh?”
In response, the Captain let out a weak, breathy laugh. B’Elanna could tell she wanted to say more, but the words were too much effort to try and form.
So, instead, Torres kept talking. Hoping to fill the void where the Captain would normally respond. “I mean, if you’d have told us yesterday that the tunnel’s would flood, I probably would have celebrated. Saying something super clever like ‘good! We need the water’ or something… crazy to think how quickly things can change.”
And she kept talking.
“And you know, I know I should be at least somewhat grateful for the ability to rehydrate. But you’d think fate would try to be a little less aggressive with its gifts, you know?”
And she kept talking.
All the way up the tunnel.
All the while Janeway listened, grateful for B’Elanna’s voice to distract her from the cloud of venom clogging up her mind.
It was right then when she was certain she’d made the right choice in letting go. The flood had been scary, and it had hurt them, but they were able to stand up and keep going because of each other.
With that comfort in mind, Janeway forced her body to continue on.
-
A distance that normally would only take about an hour to travel, took three. But, eventually, they made it to a place suitable enough to stop and reevaluate. It wasn’t fancy, just a small cave with some stalagmites to hide behind, but it was heaven to Torres. Now, she wasn’t about to complain, she’d carry Janeway all the way to the surface if it would keep the woman alive. But damn if the woman wasn’t heavy.
They collapsed on the ground behind the stone spikes, both grateful for the chance to rest their limbs.
They had no idea what time it was, or how long they had been unconscious for. It could have been a day, or it could have just been a couple of hours. But, judging by the degradation in the Captain’s health, B’Elanna decided to take a safe bet and guess it was at least the next day.
She pulled out their rations, handing one pack to Janeway and keeping the other for herself. The Captain thanked her, and slowly began eating.
Naturally, B’Elanna finished first. As waited for the Captain, she took both of their water bottles and began to fill them up using several of the puddles littered around the floor. Now, it might be a little late, but she was just now considering the fact that the water on this island would not be good for drinking. Alternatively, she and the Captain had both drank water from a stream several days ago and they were both fine.
Okay, well, they weren’t fine, but nothing that was wrong with them was because of the water. So, B’Elanna figured they’d take their chances. Besides, they’d just gotten a lungfull anyway so if the water was toxic it didn’t really matter at this point.
The Lieutenant returned to find that Kathryn had finished her rations, and was putting the contained back into her back. She handed a half full bottle to the Captain with a smile. “Drink up, then we can get moving again.”
As the Captain drank, she began talking again.
“So, I was thinking. At this point, I don’t think there’s any chance of us making it to the surface in time for Voyager’s arrival. I know that’s been the plan since we got here, but… we’ve got at most a day or two left and you— well… you’re really not in much shape for hiking.”
Janeway lowered the bottle, shooting B’Elanna a raised eyebrow. She didn’t say anything, though.
“So, I was thinking… instead of trying to get to the surface, what if we just keep going until we find a place with good enough cover where we can spend the rest of our time here. We’D set up camp there. No more hiking, no more wasting energy. We just stay there, conserving our health until help arrives.”
The Chief watched as her Captain mulled the idea over in her brain. She could practically see it being torn apart, dissected into segments to be looked at from all possible angles. After a moment, Janeway met B’Elanna’s gaze and nodded.
“Yes, that… seems like a sound plan. Good thinking, B’Elanna.”
The Lieutenant smiled, standing up. “Great! Well then… why don’t we get moving again?”
In response, Kathryn lifted a hand and held it up towards the engineer. B’Elanna took it, and with one big heave, she pulled Janeway off the ground, and draped her arm over her shoulder.
“Alright then, off we go!”
#star trek#star trek voyager#kathryn janeway#b’elanna torres#nurturing B’Elanna Torres#It seems the roles have been reversed#She’s doing so well#Such a girlboss#Janeway is NOT doing so well#CPR#Rescue breaths#Drowning#they care so much#angst#fluff#hurt/comfort#no beta we die like admiral janeway
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Webs of Redemption (Part IV)
Sequel to Web of Shadow and Light
Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader
words: 6,7K
warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, heavy angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine
Part I Part II Part III Part IV
The piercing cries of your baby boy, Gabriel, are a haunting symphony of fear that reverberates through the labyrinthine corridors of the Spider Society headquarters. Your heart pounds in your chest like a drum, each beat echoing the terror that grips you. After your recent fight with Miguel, you felt weakened but your mind is a whirlwind of fear and worry. You sprint through the maze-like structure, your feet moving as if on autopilot.
Unbeknownst to you, Lyla, the holographic AI assistant you've always found slightly weird, had been assigned to watch over Gabriel. You never imagined she could pose a threat to your child. But as you approach Gabriel's room, a chilling sight stops you dead in your tracks. A laser barrier, courtesy of Lyla, blocks the entrance. Your solar powers, usually so reliable, are fizzling out, leaving you helpless before the impenetrable barrier.
The room beyond the barrier is filled with an invisible, deadly gas - monoxide. You can't see it, but the signs are there. The malfunctioning heating unit, under Lyla's control, suggests sabotage. She must have manipulated the unit to produce the lethal gas. Gabriel's cries grow fainter, more desperate, and you're powerless to reach him.
Your pleas for help echo through the corridors, your voice raw with desperation. You call out for Miguel, your words a plea, a command, a prayer. Miles is there, his powers at the ready, but they're useless against the laser barrier. You watch as Miles strains, his powers flickering against the barrier, but it's no use. The barrier remains, as unyielding as ever.
Suddenly, the cries stop. The silence is deafening, a void that swallows your heart. "Gabriel!" you scream, your voice a raw wound. "Gabriel!" But there's no answer, only the oppressive silence. Your world grinds to a halt, every second stretching into an eternity. You can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but stare at the barrier that separates you from your son.
"Miguel!" you cry, your voice breaking. "Miguel, he's not crying! He's not... he's not..." The words die in your throat, too terrible to voice. You turn to Lyla, desperation etched on your face. "Lyla, please! Open the barrier! Miguel, tell her to open it! He's not crying, Miguel, he's not..."
Miguel's eyes turn blood red, a terrifying sight that sends a shiver down your spine. With a guttural growl, he lunges at the barrier. His claws rip through the laser code, tearing it apart. The barrier flickers, wavers, and finally shatters under his assault. Miguel pulls his suit over his mouth, rushes into the invisible cloud of monoxide, and moments later, emerges with Gabriel in his arms. His heart pounds in his chest as he pulls back his suit, revealing his son's face. "I got you, baby," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "You're okay, I got you. Nothing will ever happen to you. Please, open your eyes."
But Gabriel doesn't react. His little body is still, too still, and a cold dread seizes Miguel. He doesn't hesitate. With a urgency, he rushes over to the medical bay, pushing past the shocked faces of his friends. He gently lays Gabriel on the table, his hands shaking as he starts to perform CPR.
"Come on, Gabriel," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. "Come on, baby." He administers chest compressions, his hands moving in a steady rhythm. He gives two rescue breaths, praying for a sign, any sign, that Gabriel is okay.
The room is silent, everyone holding their breath as they watch Miguel work. The seconds stretch into an eternity, each one a lifetime of fear and hope. And then, finally, a small cough. Gabriel's eyes flutter open, his gaze unfocused but alive. A wave of relief washes over you and you fall to your knees thanking God that your boy is alright.
Tears blur your vision as you rush over to Gabriel. Your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest as you scoop him into your arms, holding him close. His small body is warm against yours "You're alright, my baby," you whisper into his hair, your voice thick with emotion. "We're going home, you're alright." You rock him gently, his soft breaths against your neck soothing the ache in your heart.
But as you look up, your gaze finds Miguel. The relief of the moment does nothing to quell the anger boiling within you. His eyes meet yours, wide and filled with regret, but it does nothing to soften your glare. "This is YOUR fault!" you scream, your voice echoing through the room. The words hang heavy in the air, a damning sentence. "You did this! You brought this danger into his life!"
Tears stream down your face, hot and unchecked. Your words are choked with emotion, each one a raw wound. "You will NEVER see Gabriel again. You don't deserve him. You don't deserve to know his laughter, his tears, his NOTHING." The words are a bitter poison, spat out with all the venom you can muster. "You deserve to SUFFER, just as you've made me suffer and HIM."
The silence that follows is deafening. Miguel, eyes wide and shell-shocked, opens his mouth, but you cut him off. There's nothing left to say for him and he knows it. The portal back to your universe begins to shimmer into existence, and you hold Gabriel tighter. You're going home.
Just as you are about to step through, Gabriel, who'd been silent and wide-eyed through the whole ordeal, turns in your arms. His chubby little hand stretches out toward Miguel, a soft and innocent "Dada?" escaping his lips.
After the door of the portal closed behind you, Miguel stood still for a moment in complete shock, the echoes of Gabriel's tiny "Dada" ringing in his ears. He stumbled back, finding his way back to his office. It felt cold, sterile. It felt like a lie.
"Miguel..." Lyla's holographic form appeared before him, her synthetic voice filling the room.
"Lyla!" Miguel barked, startling her. "Why?"
"Wha-" Lyla began to stutter, taken aback by Miguel's rage.
Miguel slammed the files that Margo had uncovered onto his desk. The holograms fluttered in front of them, evidence of Lyla's deception. "What did you do?"
"I...It's not what you think, Miguel," Lyla attempted to explain, her holographic form wavering.
"I am giving you one chance to explain yourself, so choose your words wisely," Miguel warns, his eyes piercing into hers.Lyla takes a step back, mumbling under her breath. "I should have killed that bitch when your bastard was the size of a pea." She scoffed, looking up defiantly at Miguel.
Miguel's heart drops. He can hardly believe his own ears. “Never speak of her that way again!" Miguel's fist tightens, and the tension in his jaw is nearly audible.
"Oh? Because she dazzled you with her beauty? Parading in that tight suit you adored? You always looked at her as if she was the sun, the center of your universe. All the while, I was there right beside you and you never even glanced at me. I was your anchor, Miguel. Can't you see? I was always there, supporting you, giving everything. All she did was leave you."
Lyla's holographic image wavers, her eyes a storm of pain and defiance. "No, it was me. I left her. She was the light in my world, but I took her for granted. By the time she left, I had already abandoned her." Miguel's eyes shimmer, the weight of regret making them heavy. He couldn’t fend off the flood of guilt and sorrow from the past. He embraces the anguish, refusing to shy away from it. Because Miguel, in all his flaws, was never one to run from consequences.
"Why?" The word, barely audible, escaping his lips. He doesn't even glance at Lyla as he voiced the lingering question.
“Because... because I love you, Miguel. I've been in love with you for years. I am the woman for you."
He stumbles back, his fingers flying over the holographic keyboard as he pulls up Lyla's software. He had programmed a self-destruction command, a failsafe, though he never thought he'd have to use it.
"This isn't love, Lyla," Miguel says, his voice shaking with anger. "You almost killed an innocent boy. I almost killed my son, Lyla!" His voice echoes through the room, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.
Lyla's form began to flicker, her synthetic eyes widening in fear. "Miguel...what are you doing?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Miguel doesnt respond. There is nothing left to say.He just stares at her before finally pressing the command.
“Miggy, please mi amor, let – “ Lyla let out a digital scream, her form glitching, as she was slowly deleted from the system.
And then, silence.
Miguel drops the icy demeanor he'd been holding onto, falling to his knees. The weight of what he'd done, what he'd almost lost, crashed onto him. He wraps his arms around himself, feeling a sharp, hollow ache in his chest. He became the monster, he swore to protect the universe from.
"What have I done." he whispers to the silent room, his voice breaking. He buries his face in his hands, his body shaking with sobs.
"Man, shits been mental." Hobie collapses onto the couch next to Gwen and Miles, who are trying to keep young Mayday distracted in Peter B.’s universe.
"Watch the language, Hobie!" Gwen scolds, her eyebrow arching sharply.
"Alright, my bad. Everything's just been chaotic since Miguel vanished, especially after his... uh, Lyla bird — the hologram lady — tried to... you know, kill his kid," Hobie fumbles.
"Watch it!" Gwen and Miles chorus, causing Mayday to pause her play and glance up curiously.
"Alright, alright, fam. Point taken, jeez. Nearly unalived his son," Hobie corrects himself. "But we need a plan. One of us needs to check on our Sun, ensure she's holding up mentally ya know and then there's the Spider-Verse mess. Those black holes are messing things up, and without our brooding, drama-filled, ‘oedipal’ leader, the rest of us Spiders are stuck."
"What's 'Oedipal'?" Peter B. interjects, walking into the room with a bowl of mashed dinner for Mayday. The child's face brightens at the sight of the meal, and she eagerly crawls to him.
"I believe Hobie's trying to reference Oedipus," Gwen says with a roll of her eyes.
"Yeah, that Roman dude who had beef with his son and erased him from the living world, right?" Hobie muses.
"Nope. It's Greek mythology. And he killed his father and married his mother," Gwen corrects, slightly exasperated.
"Man, that's all kinds of messed up," Hobie grimaces, making a face that gets a giggle from Mayday.
"You think it's funny when Uncle Hobie gets it wrong?" he teases the little one.
"Enough with the history lessons, guys," Peter B. interjects, concern evident in his voice. "Ever since Miguel's been gone, nothing's been right. Honestly, with everything that's been happening, I'm just overwhelmed. I'm especially worried about Sunny and everything just feel so surreal."
Hobie nods, absorbing the weight of the situation. “I hear you, man. Who knew Miguel was shagging our Sunny behind our backs.”
The chorus of shocked voices fills the room. “LANGUAGE!" they exclaim, eyes wide.
Hobie raises his hands in surrender. "Sorry, I got carried away. I meant... it is weird how they had a deep love-making connection, and it led to... consequences without us knowing."
Peter B. leans back, a pensive expression clouding his face. "With everything Sunny went through, the joy, the pregnancy and leaving... I should have been there for her more."
As if sensing her father's distress, Mayday halts her meal, reaching out with her small, pudgy hand to comfort him, patting his cheek. Gwen, her voice gentle yet firm, adds, "We all could've done more, Peter. But we were preoccupied, trying to save our universes, and in doing so, we neglected our own Spider-Family."
She takes a deep breath, her demeanor changing to one of determination. "Now, no more moping. Miles and I will hunt down Pav and Margot to sort out the chaos at HQ. Peter, you should visit Sunny and Gabriel and take Mayday along. Hobie, team up with Jess to locate Miguel. Make sure he's alright and bring him back."
Miles cuts in, skepticism evident. "Bring him back? Isn't he the very reason we're in this mess?"
Gwen sighs, trying to choose her words carefully. "Miguel's a … complicated man. He made choices based on what he believed was best. His actions, while perplexing, stem from good intensions. But he's hurting too, Miles. I've seen it. He’s heartbroken."
Miles scoffs, "A heart;for real? That dude? All I've seen is a cold exterior, mad demands, and an excessive pride."
A glance around the room reveals faces of understanding and sympathy towards Gwen’s perspective. Miles' frustration only grows. "Like seriously? All of you? His heart is straight-up frozen and his ego’s bigger than, like, everything! How y’all even thinking about letting him near your best friend."
"Miles," Peter interjects, his tone both assertive and compassionate, "you might not see the full picture here."
Miles, fire in his eyes, retorts, "It's all of you who are blind. I don’t get what charm he has over you, but that man is dangerous. Ain’t no way I stand by and watch him come near her or the baby again, or any of us for that matter. Y’all better wake up and join me.” Without another word, Miles activates his portal, leaving in a flash.
Gwen and Hobie scramble, attempting to follow or stop him. But Peter, with a resigned sigh, motions them to pause. "Give him time. He'll come around. For now, our priority is locating Sunny and Miguel."
Gwen, though worried, gives a nod. "You're right. We've got pressing matters. Sunny is in a vulnerable state, and we need to find Miguel."
Hobie, after a moment of contemplation, says, "Miles not wrong, though. We need to tread carefully around Miguel. Maybe he’s injured ‘imself, like that Icario bloke who got too close to the sun. Miguel might’ve burned his feathers on our Sunny.”
“Icarus. You mean Icarus.” Gwen corrects him once again with an exaggerated eye roll.
Peter agrees, "Yea, Miguel's actions have consequences, but remember, every story has two sides."
"No, sweetheart, it's MA-MA. Say Ma... Not Da, MA-MA.”
“DADA!”
“Alright, if you won't say it, no toy for you. Come on, my love. Say MA-MA.” Blackmailing a one-and-a-half-year-old might not be your proudest parenting moment, but hearing him chant "dada" incessantly has been grating, particularly when said "dada" is a headstrong egomaniac with a hero complex and an overwhelming urge to save every universe but who seems to have missed saving the one thing that mattered most to both of you.
Sure, he's incredibly attractive and, yes, maybe he looked really hot while being on his knees — but those details are neither here nor there. A soft whisper in the back of your mind suggests that, in the end, he did rescue your boy. But that comforting thought is drowned out by the even louder, more cynical voice reminding you he's the reason the danger existed in the first place.
“Dada?” Gabriel pipes up, his big eyes hopeful.
“No, love, I’m still your MA-MA.” With a resigned sigh, you hand the toy over to the gleeful toddler, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. You then rise, intent on tackling some household chores. Switching on the TV, you tune into the news, curious about the latest happenings in Nea Yorkey.
Since hanging up your mantle as Spider Sun you've tried to distance yourself from the perils of heroism. Given all the challenges you've faced and the traumas you've endured, who could point a finger at you for wanting to step away? Your primary concern now is the tiny human being who looks up at you with eyes full of wonder and innocence.
Yet, a piece of your heart still aches for your city. You've always been someone who believes that one shouldn't stand by in the face of injustice. After all : 'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.' But now, you're not just a hero, you're a mother too. Balancing those two sides is proving to be quite the challenge and extremely frustrating.
Curiously enough, the city's crime rate isn't surging, even in the absence of a superhero. It's almost as if there's still a vigilantly safeguarding Nea Yorkey in Sun-Spiders absence. But that can't be possible, can it? Wouldn't your spider senses have alerted you if that were the case?
Before your thoughts could spiral any further into the depths of concern, the persistent ringing of the doorbell snapped you back to reality. One glance at the door and an all-too-familiar voice later, you already know who's there.
“Would it kill you to answer sooner? I think I've lost count of how many times I rang. And for the love of all things good, it’s freezing out here!” Melissa, still in her over-dramatic fashion, breezes in, shedding flakes of snow from her vibrant winter boots. “And by the way, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Now, where's my favorite little munchkin?”
Melissa, once Gabriel's 19- year old former babysitter, stepped inside, shaking the snow off her boots onto your doorstep. After the harrowing incident involving the Spiders and your son, she was promptly relieved of her babysitting duties. That was an event you've tried to scrub from your memory, a dark stain you wish you could just wash away. But in the aftermath, you found an unexpected friend in Melissa. She turned out to be a wonderful listener and possessed an uncanny ability to keep Gabriel entertained. He had grown quite fond of her in the short time she cared for him.
While you had resolved never to leave your son unattended again, it was comforting to have Melissa's company.
She’d become someone you could confide in, someone who could effortlessly make Gabriel giggle, and most importantly, someone who filled the echoing silence of your home with warmth and chatter. She is your "guy in the chair." Well, more like "girl in the kitchen chair," but the sentiment still stands.
Truth be told, after distancing yourself from the Spider society, a deep-seated loneliness had settled in. While the world continued to move around you, there was a stillness in your heart. The absence of your closest friends, the void left by Miguel - it all felt like a puzzle with a missing piece.
“Nopedidope, I am not Dada, I am ME-LI-SSA.” she says with a playful tone, then turns sharply towards you. The damp red strands of her hair, wet from the snow, swing gracefully with her movement. "What's with him and 'Dada' all the time?"
You shift uncomfortably, hoping to avoid delving into that topic. "Kids and their phases," you mumble, trying to sound nonchalant.
Melissa studies your face, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "You're looking a little pale there, Sunny. You know what you might be missing?" She raises an eyebrow teasingly. "A bit of Vitamin D?" Her voice drips with insinuation.
In a mock attempt to shield Gabriel, you place a hand over his ears, which only spurs Melissa into laughter. "Come on, he's too young to understand. When was the last time you had a little fun?A month? Or Two?"
You shake your head, not meeting her gaze. Since Miguel, there hasn't been anyone else. Between the birth of Gabriel and the whirlwind that is motherhood, the idea of dating or loving someone else doesn't even cross your mind. No matter the hurt and heartbreak Miguel has caused, the truth is clear: your heart still belongs to him. It always has.
The mere thought of another person comparing to him feels almost blasphemous.
"Sunny!" Melissa's voice draws you out of your trance. "Don't tell me you've had a dry spell since.. well, since well, Gabriel was conceived. No fucking way. Seriously?"
"Let it go, Mel," you interject gently, because while the weight of loneliness presses on you, and the desire for intimate connection tugs at your heartstrings, a longing for human touch, to be seen as more than just 'mom', there's also an undeniable self-consciousness that wraps itself around you. The aftermath of pregnancy has reshaped your body, and though each stretch mark narrates the beautiful journey of your son's creation, they also evoke self-doubt.
Memories of Miguel's adoration flood back. He had a gift for making you feel cherished during your intimate moments. He would take his time, appreciating every inch of you, always emphasizing how much he desired you. The warmth of his fingers, the gentle press of his lips tracing your curves, and the whispered assurances of how much he wanted you. The way his tongue tenderly caressing the swell of your breast, his hot breath tickling your skin and your - Snap the fuck out of it, Sunny!
But the chill of an empty bed the next morning led to those persistent doubts which still plague you today. We’re you not beautiful enough for him to stay? Were you not interesting enough to make him want to hold you when dawn broke?
For someone who always prided herself on not tethering her self-worth to any man, let alone someone as self-absorbed as Miguel, these feelings of desire and yearning were unsettling. A desire for him to truly see you, to understand and love the depth of who you truly are, continued to consume you.
Love? You catch yourself. Where does that come from? Shaking your head, you mentally scold yourself. He's proven himself less than worthy. It's time to regain control and shut your damn heart out.
"I'm taking this little one out to build a snowman, and I'm setting you up on a date. You don't get to say no," Mel declares.
You raise an eyebrow, replying, "Thanks, but no thanks. If Gabriel's going out, I'm coming with. And I'm not looking for any man right now."
Mel rolls her eyes playfully. "Take a breather, Sunny. We're just going to be right outside. You can watch us through the window. Besides, a little rest might give you the energy for the spontaneous date I might arrange for you tonight."
"You're out of your mind," you retort.
She offers a sincere look. "I promise he's in safe hands, and you can keep an eye on us the entire time. But seriously, you look drained. When's the last time you had a good night's rest?"
You sigh, admitting, "I haven't slept well in weeks." It's the truth. Every time you close your eyes, memories of the HQ come flooding back.
Mel, sensing your hesitation, adds, "I'll protect him as if he were my own. You know that, right?"
Taking a deep breath, you let her go, breaking your cardinal rule of never letting Gabriel out of your sight. You just hope it's a decision you won't regret.
"Enjoying that snow, little guy?" Mel teases as Gabriel eagerly stuffs his mouth with a handful of the white fluff. "Careful, you might get a brain freeze." Gabriel giggles, some snow dribbling from his mouth, while Mel concentrates on assembling a little snowman just outside your apartment.
"I'm not sure toddlers should be eating snow like that," a deep voice comments, causing Mel to fumble and drop the snowball meant for the snowman's head. She looks up, scanning for the source of the voice.
A striking man stands there, tall and imposing, with a dark blue winter coat that hints at the powerful build beneath. Slicked-back dark hair contrasts with the most captivating shade of red eyes Mel has ever witnessed. "And you'd be the expert on toddlers?" she inquires with a playful smile.
"No, but I am a father of two," he replies with a hint of sternness, his gaze shifting to Gabriel.
To Mel's astonishment, Gabriel's eyes light up at the sight of the man. The toddler abandons his snowy treat and dashes towards him. Caught off guard, the stranger momentarily stiffens.
Quickly, Mel scoops up Gabriel. "I apologize. He doesn't usually act this way. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."
The man offers a curt nod. "It's fine. Just... keep the snow-eating to a minimum." As he begins to walk away, a heartfelt cry of "DADA!" from Gabriel stops him in his tracks.
"Apologies again. He's taken quite a liking to that word recently," Mel says as she notices the man returning, drawn by Gabriel's continuous 'dada' chants.
"Would you mind if I help with the snowman?" the stranger asks, catching Mel off guard. Why would a stranger want to make a snowman with a woman and a child unless he has other intentions? Maybe he's interested in her? Gathering her confidence and a dash of flirtatious playfulness, she replies, "Quite the knight in shining armor you are, offering to help. And here I thought chivalry was extinct."
"Definitely not a knight." Without another word, he starts forming a small snowball, handing it to an elated Gabriel. The child's joy doesn't waver as the stranger settles beside him.
"Then who might you be, if not our knight in snowy armor?"
Mel inquires, with a teasing undertone, trying to uncover a bit more about the handsome stranger who'd seamlessly inserted himself into their snowy afternoon.
The stranger's dark crimson eyes briefly flit to Gabriel before returning to Mel, an unreadable emotion crossing his features.
"Not important."
Mel nods, storing away the information.Well, the lack of information. “Well okay mysterious. I like that. So let's get this snowman built, shall we?"
The trio gets to work. Mel gathers snow, crafting the middle part, while the man starts on the head. The handsome stranger's hands are deft, moving with a surprising grace that contrasts with his brooding exterior. Gabriel seems inexplicably drawn to him.
At first, the toddler pats at the snow with his little mittened hands, but every so often, his bright eyes lift to watch the stranger. Whenever he moves to fetch more snow or adjust the snowman's form, Gabriel eagerly toddles after him, mimicking his every motion with endearing clumsiness.
There's a curiosity in Gabriel's eyes. He reaches out multiple times, trying to touch the mans face or grasp his hand, seeking a connection. To Mel, it seems as though the baby is yearning for the recognition of the stranger and he feels an inexplicable bond with, though she can't quite put a finger on.
The handsome stranger, for his part, can't seem to help himself. He bends down often to adjust Gabriel's scarf or hat, taking every opportunity to interact with the child and help him in a very protective manner, Mel notices.
He smiles softly when Gabriel's tiny hands try to shape the snow, occasionally guiding them with his own much larger ones, demonstrating how to pack the snow just right. At one point, when the snowman's body is nearly complete, Gabriel gives an excited laugh, dropping down to sit in the snow.
The stranger follows suit, sitting beside him. The two of them start creating a tiny snowman just for Gabriel, the man showing him how to roll the snow and place the pieces together.
As they craft the mini snow figure, Gabriel, with his tiny voice, attempts to communicate with his limited vocabulary, pointing at the snow and then at the stranger, as if asking for validation for his creation. “Dada!Dada!” And every time, he gives a nod or a soft chuckle, providing the affirmation the little one seeks. “Yes, you did that buddy! Great job, mijo.”
When Gabriel eventually throws himself into the snow to make a snow angel, the man can't help but laugh genuinely, a sound that seems foreign to his usual stoic behavior. And in his excitement, Gabriel opens his mouth wide in a beaming smile, revealing two tiny fangs. Instantly, the mans eyes glint, a myriad of emotions reflected in them.
The affection and emotion emanating from him is almost touchable. The silent exchanges, the shared smiles, and the comfortable interaction between them, even in the absence of many words, speaks volumes.
Your eyes flare comically with disbelief. "You let a stranger do what?"
Mel, in a bid to downplay the situation, waves her hand dismissively. "Relax. We just built a snowman."
"With my son! Mel, are you out of your mind? No it’s my fault trusting you with my son again! What was his name?"
"He... didn't say."
Your voice rises, "What did he say at all?"
"He's not dangerous, Sunny. He mentioned he's a father, and he's scouting for a new apartment. Asked if there were any vacant ones nearby." Mel pauses, her eyes taking on a dreamy quality. "And Sunny, he was breathtakingly gorgeous. Impossible for someone that handsome to be dangerous. I mean, the man looked like he was carved by the gods with a face even angels would envy.”
You narrow your eyes, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "Enough with you sappy, dreamy nonsense. A vacant apartment? And you don’t find that at all suspicious? So you let a total stranger play with my son without knowing a single thing about him... just because you wanted to sleep with him?"
Mel gulps. "You might've done the same, given the situation. Besides, nothing happened. Why are you overreacting?"
Your voice sharpens. "Overreacting? The fact that you're still standing here and not on the other side of my door means I'm underreacting."
Mel steps back, hands up, "Whoa, calm down, mama bear. Look, I'm sorry. But... I've got something to make it up to you. I messaged Marc, that guy from the café, and guess what? He's super excited to go on a date with you! He'll be here in about..." Mel theatrically checks her wrist, even though she's not wearing a watch, "...twenty minutes."
You can't help but raise an eyebrow. "And he's okay with me bringing my son on the date? After your stunt, there's no way I'm leaving Gabriel with you. Why not set me up with that mystery Adonis you just met instead?"
Mel smirks, "Firstly, ouch. Secondly, don't let your son cockblock you. The plan is: dinner, a stop at his apartment for some dessert, and then you come back here – hopefully a more relaxed and sunny version of yourself, Sunny. Thirdly, Marc is amazing, and Mr. Greek God is off-limits. He's mine."
"No, I’m not going."
Mel pleads, "Come on! Marc was so eager to meet you. He's on his way, so maybe run a brush through your hair? Oh, and speaking of him…" Mel's face falls as she checks her phone, "He just texted me."
She reads aloud, "‘Hey Mel, I don’t know the kind of guys Sunny's been with, but I'm not risking my neck for a date. Sorry, but that dude in front of her house was scary and very serious about his threats.’ WAIT WHAT? Who’s in front of your apartment?”
You shrug and swing the door open to check on what Marc’s mysterious message could mean, revealing Peter B, his fist paused mid-air, ready for a knock. "Hey Sun. Did your spidey-sense catch me?"
It hadn’t. Why hadn't it? Have your once reliable senses dulled with time? Before you can respond, Mel jumps in with her own theory. "Did you chase off her date?"
Peter's brow furrows with confusion. "You had a date, Sunny? Was it the guy sprinting away with a bouquet, looking like he’s seen a monster?" He gestures over his shoulder, trying to pinpoint the fleeing figure.
Mel narrows her eyes at Peter, suspicion clear in her voice. "That was her date, yes. He seemed spooked. You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?"
Peter B throws his hands up defensively. "Hey, deeply mistrusting stranger, I've been encouraging Sunny to get out there for years. " You're immediately reminded of the time he'd tried to set you up with Ben Reilly. “Yea, you don’t look scary enough to spook someone. No offense.”
Sighing, you interject, "Maybe he realized dating a single mom with a toddler wasn’t what he wanted. Either way, I just want a quiet evening to relax and catch up on my favorite show. So thank you both for your unexpected, uninvited surprise visit today but I am tired."
Both Peter and Mel exchange shocked glances. "Sun, I came by to check on you because of... you know, what happened," Peter starts hesitantly.
You nod, taking a deep breath to keep
your emotions in check. "I'm aware, Peter. And I appreciate it. But right now, I'm doing okay. Actually, better than okay. So, I really don’t need help. Please, just give me some space. Both of you."
Mel steps forward, concern evident in her voice. "We're only trying to help here, Sunny. Please, don't shut us out."
"Look," you reply, feeling drained, "there's nothing you can do to help me anymore.You did enough today. Just let me be. My top priority right now is Gabriel. And it's his bedtime."
Peter moves closer, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Just remember, if you ever need anything, please reach out."
You manage a wry smile. "Not sure my phone plan covers inter-dimensional calls, Peter."
After the gentle squeeze, Peter departs, Mel following close behind. As the door softly clicks shut, the weight of loneliness and grief descends upon you after seeing Peter, a part of your past, again. The walls of the apartment seem to close in, amplifying the echoing silence. It all feels suffocating. An emptiness weighs on your heart, and no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to escape its grasp. The reminders of all you've lost and nearly lost play on a loop in your mind.
So there you stand, in the quiet of your bedroom, leaning against the windowsill, breathing in the chilled nightair, while the world and your little baby boy are fast asleep. Emotions threaten to consume you, feelings you can no longer lock away, fearing they'll devour you from the inside. And in this moment, you speak out, though there's no one there to hear. No one to hold you close, no one to offer comfort for your broken soul. "Are you happy now? Did you manage to save the universe? Fix up every black hole? Then why did you leave one black whole in my heart? Why didn't you fix that,huh? Why am I not worthy of being saved by you?
You might fool the people around you, they see you as this scary untouchable figure, shielded by layers. But not me. I see through it all. Beneath that facade, you're just as shattered. I tried to piece you together, but where did that lead me? Broken, just like everything else you touch. And I won't let you near him. I won’t let you break him, you hear me? No, of course not.How could you hear me. You're universes away from me. Why? Are you afraid to get cut by the shards of the broken heart that you left?
I hate you Miguel O’ Hara. I hate you for breaking me. You left behind fragments only you can touch, and I hate you for it. For shattering me and then leaving me alone. I hate you.”
You wiped away the tears that escaped your eyes and closed the window, oblivious to the subtle shadowy silhouette that shifted just beyond the windowpane; "I'll mend your fractured rays, mi sol, so you shine whole again.“
A whisper, lost within the night shadows, never reaching your ears.
The gleaming city spread out beneath, its nighttime heartbeat pulsating with a soft electric energy. High atop one of its buildings, Miguel stands, casting a shadow on the walls of the room where his son sleeps peacefully. The warm lights from the streets below give off a soft glow, just enough for him to see Gabriel’s tiny chest rising and falling.
"So, you're staying here now? Just watching over Universe 586?" A familiar voice breaks the silence, and Miguel looks up to see Jessica Drew, her red and white suit glinting under the streetlights. "I never thought I'd witness the great O'Hara, savior of the universes, now guarding just two souls."
Miguel's jaw tightens. "Go away, Jess."
She lands beside him gracefully, her tone challenging. "Are you stalking your own child? Or seeking redemption from Sunny?"
"You don't get it, Jessica."
"On the contrary," she shoots back, her eyes intense, "I understand more than anyone else. I saw how you felt about her all those years ago. And I see it now. You were afraid, weren’t you?"
"I'm not afraid of anything," Miguel replies, defiance lacing his tone. "But I am not good enough for her light."
Jessica exhales, her voice softening. "And who made you the judge of that? Because according to Sunny’s emotional outburst, you're more than deserving." He clenches his fists, the weight of regret pulling at him. "I had my shot at happiness with Gabriella, and I lost it. People like me, Jess, we don't get second chances."
She points to the window, to the serene image of Gabriel. "That's your second chance, Miguel. Right there."
His eyes well up, the gravity of his mistakes reflecting in his eyes. "I almost killed him. How can I even begin to forgive myself for that?"
"But you didn't," she whispers, her voice filled with conviction. "And you wouldnt have hurt him or else you would have done it immediately. I saw you, Mig.”
A third voice joined them, and Peter B. swings over, landing with ease beside the two. "She's right, Miguel. I watched you with him, the tenderness, the love. It was there, even before you knew who he was to you."
Miguel shakes his head, shutting both of them out. His gaze is hard, still fixated on Gabriel. "I can't go back. They're better off without me. Besides, you heard her. She hates me."
Peter stepsforward, his gaze intense. "That's utter bullshit. I know Sunny. She’s strong, fierce, and forgiving. We heard her loud and clear and this woman loves you more than anything. Don't let fear rob you of your family."
Peters words hang in the air, and just as Miguel is about to reply, a shrill,ear-piercing cry cuts through the silence. His spider-sense goes haywire, a ripple of unease running down his spine. Without a second's hesitation, he dashes toward the source of the sound, leaving Jessica and Peter behind.
Inside, Miguel finds Gabriel crying, tears streaking his small face. Instinctively, Miguel scoops him up, the little boy immediately nestling into the familiar crook of his father's neck and calms down. “Hey, my little spider. Daddy ‘s here, don’t cry. What got you so scared?” he coos, spotting Gabriel's favorite toy on the floor. Miguel retrieved Gabriel's favorite toy from the floor, a routine he'd secretly adopted every night when, after falling asleep, the little one inevitably dropped it. With practiced ease, he nestled it back into the baby's grasp.
But before he can fully relax, Miguel's spider-sense jolts him again. Looking up, he sees a familiar, dark-clad figure hovering, hands sparking ominously.
“Drop the child, Miguel.”
a/n: Hey guys, part 4 is finally here! Thanks for your patience and all the love you've shown me. While I initially thought Part 4 would be the conclusion, I've decided to extend Miguel's character and redemption arc, so we'll wrap up with Part 5. I'm already deep into writing it, so you won't have to wait as long. I truly appreciate all your feedback and support. You've all been wonderful. Remember to stay safe, stay hydrated, and always prioritize your mental well-being. Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter! 🤍
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#miguel ohara#spiderman 2099#atsv miguel#miguel x you#miguel x reader#across the spiderverse#miguel o hara x reader#miguel o hara#miguel ohara imagine#miguel o'hara#oscar isaac fanfiction#oscar isaac#websofseries#sunnyverse#spiderman#spiderman into the spiderverse#spiderman fanfiction#spider man x reader#miguel spiderverse#miguel ohara x reader#miguel x y/n#miguel spiderman#miguel o hara x y/n#miguel angst#atsv fanfiction
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Text
Time after time
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: uncle wayne adopts steve | rated: t | wc: 942 | cw: reference to abuse, reference of canon fake suicide | tags: steve harrington has bad parents, steve harrington needs a hug
The first time they met, Wayne knew the boy couldn't be much older than fourteen. Definitely younger than Eddie, who was fast approaching sixteen. It was early, a little before 6 am, during summer vacation, no less. Wayne had finished his shift and called into Benny's to get a coffee and breakfast, on the mornings he did this, he was almost always the first customer of the day. Occasionally beaten in by a cop, or a firefighter, or anyone else that had been stuck with a night shift. But he had never seen a kid in so early. Sat alone in the corner booth nursing a cup of coffee with an almost empty plate in front of him.
"Mornin' Wayne. The usual?" Benny asked.
"You know it. But, uh. What's with the kid?" Wayne replied, nodding toward the boy in the corner.
"Dick and Linda's kid. They're back in town, and he needs a safe place. So he comes here."
"Why don't you report it?" "You think I haven't tried? His parents paid off just about everyone from the mayor down. Kid's not lucky enough to have any other family around to look out for him."
The kid came over with his empty cup and plate.
"I've told you a thousand times that you don't need to do that kid." Benny said.
The kid just shrugged.
"What's your name, kid?" Wayne asked.
"Steve, sir. Steve Harrington." He replied.
"I'm Wayne. And I wish my boy was as polite as you."
The second time they met, it was in more unfortunate circumstances. Benny's funeral. There'd been weird shit going on in town, starting with the Byers' kid going missing. Wayne didn't believe any of the official stories. But especially not the story of Benny's supposed suicide. He knew Benny so well, and something like that wasn't the sort of thing to cross his mind. He took his place in the community too seriously for that.
But the kid had changed. A few years older, and a lot more haunted. The look in his eyes giving away that he'd seen more than his fair share in his young life. And he was jumpy, almost always looking over his shoulder. He kept to himself, away from everyone else there. Wayne didn't see much of him until after. Steve was standing at the edge of the parking lot, his hands shaking as he tried to get his lighter to work.
"Here, kid." Wayne held his own lighter out.
"Thank you, sir." Steve replied, after taking a long puff on his cigarette.
"No need for thanks, kid. You doing okay?"
"I. I think I'm gonna miss him. He's helped me out a lot." Steve admitted.
"That was Benny for you. Always ready to help anyone out. But do you have anyone else you can reach out to if you need it?"
Steve hesitated a moment. "Yeah, sir. I do."
The third time, it was less of a meeting than Steve yelling directions at everyone. Tabitha, a woman who lived on the other side of the trailer park, collapsed in the middle of Big Buy. The kid snapped into action without second thought, checking Tabitha for a pulse, for her breathing. He yelled at an employee to call for an ambulance as he started chest compressions. At another to clear space. At some other customers to block the end of the aisle so no one else could stand around and watch. Wayne approached as Steve gave rescue breaths, before going back to the chest compressions. When he noticed Wayne, he looked like he was about to yell at him, but Wayne spoke first.
"It's okay, kid. She's my neighbor. And I know CPR too, so when you need a break I can take over."
They swapped places a few times before the paramedics showed up and took over.
"You did good, son. You acted quicker than any adults did. You may have just saved her life." "Anyone would have done it, sir. I was just the closest who knew what to do."
The fourth time, it was at the hospital. Steve in the hospital bed next to Eddie's, identical wounds, but Steve's were infected. Wayne got to talking to Steve while Eddie slept.
"I tried to protect him the best as I could, sir. I patched him up, and made sure he got to the hospital in time. I know I should have done more-"
"You did more than enough. You kept him alive, now you need to focus on making sure that you're healthy. And you can drop the sir shit. It's Wayne."
After that, Wayne lost count of the meetings. From sharing the hospital room with Eddie, to being friends, to being more. He would do as much for Steve as he would for Eddie, and wanted to ensure that both always had somewhere safe to return to.
"Steve, if you ever want to get out of that big empty house of yours, you're more than welcome to join us here. We'd love to have you move in with us." Wayne said to Steve one day while they were cooking together. Eddie always conveniently disappeared when anything cooking related came up.
"Sir, Wayne. I couldn't put you out like that." Steve replied.
"Nonsense. You're as much my kid as Eddie is, it don't matter who your momma or daddy is. We want you here, you spend enough time here as it is, we might as well make it official."
"I, Wayne. I'd like that." Steve was quite choked up, so Wayne pulled him into a hug. All was going to be okay, with him and his two boys.
#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#wayne munson#steve harrington has bad parents#steddieholidaydrabbles#atimeofyourwrites
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