Chapter Text
Miles Morales, is a hired killer.
He knows, shocking. A fourteen year old kid who just got into high school, a killer?
Which, he supposes, is why he is one in the first place. Nobody suspects him.
He’s been the assassin for Mr. Fisk, for about six months. Fisk, is... a kind of mafia boss? (Miles never did research, he just wanted revenge.)
And in a way, it’s a family business. His, now late, Uncle Aaron also had the same job, it's why Miles has it in the first place. Some off-brand nepotism.
Fisk’s assassins are called ‘Prowler’s and there's only ever been one at a time.
Miles Morales, is a high schooler.
He had many friends in middle school, probably his favorite few years actually.
He’s started a private high school, so not only is he stuck with new people, but also pretentious new people. Truly, he’s so excited. (Can you hear his sarcasm?)
He’s scared.
Miles is the son of Rio Morales and Jefferson Davis.
The two most important people in his life, who he would do anything for, even if they were never quite in the same world as him.
He’s scared.
Because Fisk doesn’t let Prowlers go.
Miles would say that the Prowler job is usually high stress, the blood on his hands can attest to that.
Usually is not today.
Today, or rather tonight, is simple. Miles is to just follow Spider-Man as long as possible and bring back any interesting news back to Fisk. That’s all.
Oddly enough, it makes him more anxious than having the order to kill on sight.
So here Miles was, full gear on, during a slightly drizzly night. Perched on a rooftop just a little while away from the red and blue silhouette. Miles is a lot closer than he’d like to be, but the rain and mist makes it harder to see even with his mask on.
Honestly, it’s rather boring. Spider-Man just kind of sits there, then all of a sudden snaps his head to some random direction, takes off swinging that way which ends up being someone in trouble.
Miles had no clue how he did it. His curiosity about the hero vigilante almost makes up for Miles’ fury towards him.
Almost.
Miles is abruptly taken out of his thoughts when Spider-Man’s head swung around in his direction.
Miles expected him to leap off the roof like usual,
(the first time he had turned to Miles’ direction Miles swore he stopped breathing before he lept off to save someone from a mugging) but he doesn’t.
He just stands there, staring almost up at Miles. His mask's eyes shining from the rain, and Miles can start to hear his heart pick up in his ears.
He thinks he should leave, Fisk was very strict on not getting caught. Getting caught would mean getting fired. (Would mean not getting his justice.)
But just as Miles is backing up, trying to creep back into the shadows like all good Prowlers do, he barely sees it but a web shoots out.
Miles stumbles back, landing on the ground with the web caging him to the ground.
Miles suddenly feels a sense of dread fill his bones, turning his blood to ice.
He hears a thud muffled by the rain a few feet from him.
And then somehow despite the gloom of the night, bright red and blue invades his vision.
Standing almost cockily over him, and Miles is now glad he wears a mask because his mouth is gaping in shock.
And mortification.
“Ooo.. I haven’t had someone stalk me around in awhile! You followed me for some time too,” Spider-Man tilts his head, and Miles swears he can feel the pride rippling off the man.
Miles is already tired of him. However when Miles tries to escape the webbing, he can’t, it feels like chains almost when he tries to move against it.
What the hell is this shit made out of?
“Oh, yeah, please try to get out, it’s so much funnier!” If Spider-Man’s mask had a mouth he just knows it’d be smirking at him.
He keeps trying though, because surely there’s a weak spot in the webbing right?
“Oh, I should probably take off your mask for the police when they get here..” And he moves closer to Miles, reaching his hand out and Miles can’t move away!-
drip
Miles feels cold air on his face, and rain drops onto his face so his face is scrunched up.
Which he knows makes him look younger, and he cracks open an eye long enough to see the mechanical eyes of Spider-Man wide.
He’s just standing there, with Miles’ mask in his hand, completely frozen still.
When Spider-Man takes a step back, as if reeling from a punch, Miles squirms more against the webs.
Because if he doesn’t get out now, Spider-Man is going to tell the police he’s here and Miles’ parents will know about the blood staining his hands-
“...oh shit,” Is the first thing Miles hears from Spider-Man since his mask was taken off.
Which honestly makes Miles struggle more, because the shock is wearing off.
Spider-Man starts mumbling, and his hands are behind his head, if he had access to his hair Miles would bet he’d be pulling it.
Miles doesn’t care, he just wants to get out of this damned webbing !
As Spider-Man is trying to step back to him, probably to boast about capturing him, Miles gains movement of his hand enough to tear through webs holding him in place.
And he shoots up, scrambling away from Spider-Man. He quickly takes note of his surroundings, finding his discarded mask about six feet from him.
Spider-Man is eyeing him like a wild animal, bringing his hands up to web him to the floor again-
Miles darts from the ground in front of Spider-Man to his mask, tumbling awkwardly as he grabs it in a hast and puts it back on.
He can’t feel his nose from the cold air.
Miles' head spins from how quickly he gets to his feet. But he can’t stop because if he does his parents will be so disappointed in having him as their son-
Just as Miles readies up his boots to get him to the next building and away from Spider-Man, he hears, “Wait! Kid-” and he’s gone.
Miles doesn’t stop till he’s home.