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oopsitszuli · 10 months

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Grieving!Miguel x reader where he constantly goes back to a universe where they’re still married but every time he goes back he tries to make the best of it knowing that their time is limited due to the readers inevitable death and he tries his best to put a stop to it every time

"You Happened." (Miguel O'Hara x FEM!Reader! Angst Drabbles/Scenario.)

Authors note: And it is here! The long-awaited Miguel Angst fic. Thank you all so much for being so patient with me surrounding this fic. Death is a hard topic to write about for me, but I knew this was something I really wanted to write. Please read with caution, and once again, thank you for your patience.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Death, grief, depression, mentions of violence, angst, depictions of spousal death, murder, and funeral mentions.

Miguel knew he was obsessive- or, as he called it, 'work-oriented'. Jessica and Lyla didn’t have to tell him twice. Miguel O’Hara was so obsessed with canon events and keeping the multiverse in line that it kept him cooped up in the Spider-Society headquarters or away in another universe for longer than he wanted. But he did it all to protect the one good thing in his life. Every minute spent working, every fight against an anomaly, no matter how bloody, was all for her. It was all for you. (Y/n) O’Hara, Miguel’s wife and the love of his life.

He knew he probably worked for too long, but that fact was reinstated when he returned from a three-day-long anomaly hunt in a far-off universe. Nueva York was dreary when he returned, and the rain that poured outside was relentless. Miguel hated the rain, although it was always your favorite, so he decided not to let it bother him too much. After containing the anomaly, Miguel returned to his office, only to be met by a somber Peter B. and an emotionless Lyla. He questioned their presence immediately, only to be told to sit down.

The news that reached Miguel made his world stop.

You had died. No- you had been murdered. According to Peter, you were trying to visit him at the Spider-Society headquarters when you were suddenly attacked by a villain who had discovered Miguel’s affections for you, and while you suffered, he was away in a far-off world, none the wiser to his wife’s murder. Miguel remained motionless in his chair, his body weak as the tears streamed down his face relentlessly. He wasn’t there when you needed him most, and now you were gone because of him. You were gone, and he was never going to see you again. Nothing even mattered anymore.

His mind was a swarm of grief. Anger consumed his every moment, and his eyes grew sore from having cried non-stop for as long as he could recall. His hours were now dedicated to sitting in the home you two had shared, curled up in a pile of your clothes and holding them close to his chest just so he could pretend you were still there. He lay motionless, holding tightly to your favorite t-shirt and crying loudly, he cursed out apologies until his voice was hoarse and continued after. He let you die. He did everything to protect you, and he still failed.

Having to bury your body in a closed coffin destroyed Miguel in a way he never thought possible. He sat next to your grave for hours until Jessica finally coaxed him away from you, and even then, he fought against her relentlessly. Work was abandoned, his duties ignored, and If anyone dared criticize his shutdown, they found themselves removed from the Spider-Society within a matter of seconds. Miguel was completely and totally lost, he was so desperate to feel you against him again, to smell your perfume, to kiss you…and he would never get that privilege again.

That’s when the idea hit him.

{{

“Miguel, you can’t…you said it yourself; The multiverse can’t be tampered with! Her death was a canon event!" Lyla was cut off as Miguel glared at her holographic figure. His gaze was unwavering, and it was apparent to the woman that he was a second from snapping at anyone who spoke against his plans. Lyla sighed softly, she hated seeing him like this, and deep down, she knew that if she were human, her heart would be breaking for him with every second they spent near each other. He looked a mess, obviously having been awake for days while in the throws of his grief, but even then, he stood here, dawned in civilian clothes but still covering his face with his normal Spider-Man mask and tapping relentlessly at the watch on his wrist.

“I don’t care, Lyla. That’s my wife, and I’m going to find her.” Miguel snapped at her. Lyla winced before sighing softly. She knew how much this was killing him, but she also knew that no matter what he did, no matter what (Y/n) he found, she would never be his again.

“Miguel, you could destroy the universe she lives in…and you’d just lose her again.” Lyla attempted to reason with him; her voice was soft, bordering on a whisper, Miguel continued to glare at her. His glare usually had no effect on Lyla, but this one was different from all the others…He was lost. Completely and utterly lost. So as a portal to a new dimension opened, Lyla only sighed.

“Fine. If I can’t stop you…Just promise me that you’ll be careful, Miguel.” She closed her eyes as her arms crossed over her torso. The man only nodded before disappearing in a flash of color, tapping at the watch on his wrist, Miguel would find (Y/n), and when he did, he promised himself that he would never let her go again.

The city he arrived to was almost indescribable. Vibrant hues of blues, pinks, and soft pastel oranges mixed effortlessly in the night sky. This was Nueva York, without a doubt, but this was definitely not his Nueva York. Once chromatic buildings that he had been so familiar with now were dimly hued in shades of navy blue and dusk pink, the lights from buildings surrounding them reflecting off of the glassy windows. Miguel closed the portal behind him, the mask on his face disappearing in seconds and allowing him to feel the cold raindrops that fell around him in their entirety. The feeling of the cold air against his face, the water trickling down his cheeks, and the brisk wind filling his senses almost made the man fall to his knees. She was here. Somewhere in this city was his wife, and she was waiting for him. He assured that he had traveled to a universe on the same night his counterpart in this universe died, knowing it would be easier to replace him since this universe’s Miguel’s body would go undiscovered for months after his death. The thought sent a shiver up Miguel’s spine, but he brushed it off. He was going to save (Y/n) the feeling of the grief that consumed him so effortlessly. She would never know her Miguel died, all she would know is that her lover was home in her arms every night, and the only one who would know the truth would be Miguel. Lying to her never crossed his mind in the ten years they’d been married, but now, he would live a lie just to live with her. So, with a deep breath, Miguel swung from the rooftop of the building, masking himself again and beginning to search the city for his long-lost love.

Miguel was searching for what felt like hours before he finally locked his eyes on an ivy-covered building resting neatly between buildings identical to itself. The lights were on, open windows allowed him to peer into the home effortlessly from the rooftop of a building across the way. His heart stopped as a figure walked in front of the window, a saccharine smile on her face as stopped to look out of the window, as if she were taking in the city block around her for the first time. Miguel froze. She looked up at the rooftop. Their eyes met so easily, her jaw dropping slightly and Miguel swinging into action before his mind could process the feelings exploding in his chest. He knew she was racing for the door the moment he left the rooftop, but as his feet hit the porch of her house and the large oak door swung open, Miguel felt the sadness facing him head-on.

“Miguel?” She said softly, a tinge of disbelief lining her tone as she stood standing in the brightly lit doorway looking up at her lover. “You’re al-" Miguel didn’t let her finish her sentence as he picked her up into his arms, holding (Y/n) close to his massive build as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with his foot. He hugged her so gently, afraid of breaking her, as tears began to stream down his cheeks relentlessly.

“Te extrañé mucho mi princesa..” He spoke between shaky breaths of air, not caring if his sadness may reveal the truth of his identity immediately, only caring that she was in his arms again. After a moment, he felt her arms wrap around him, her soft hands carding into his hair as she held him close to her body.

“Rough day at work?” She questioned softly. Miguel buried his face in the crook of her neck, desperate to be as close to her body as possible. He took in a deep breath, the scent of her perfume filtering into his nose and making the man feel his knees grow weak.

“You have no idea..” Miguel chuckled softly, collecting himself as he begrudgingly pulled himself free from her hold. She was here. She was breathing. She was alive…His wife was alive. And as she looked up at him, eyes glimmering in the lamplight of the foyer of their house, Miguel felt all of his grief begin to shift. “You know that I love you, right?” He spoke oh so softly. His heart skipped a beat as she nodded slowly, a smile on her lips and her hands taking hold of his.

“I do…And I love you too.” Your words were gentle, just like they always were. “Now come on, Mrs. Behnam dropped off some Halva, and it looks absolutely delicious.” Gently, you urged him to follow you as you tugged on his hands. Miguel chuckled softly before nodding. He didn’t care if what he was doing was wrong, he was here with you, and you were alive and breathing.

He wouldn’t ever let you go again.

The week that followed was the happiest Miguel had been in a very long time. Holding you close to his body in the night, kissing your lips so sweetly, and spending the days with you in the comfort of your apartment. It was paradise.

Although. Miguel had noticed some oddities in the past week…you seemed duller than you should be, with bags under your eyes and exhaustion riddling your face. You looked almost dreadful. He knew It couldn’t be because of his counterpart’s death seeing as you were none the wiser to the fact. But still, he heard muffled sobs escaping the bathroom in the dead of the night when you slipped away from him, he caught the moments you would wipe at your lips after he kissed you, and he found it strange that you seemingly never let him be seen outside of the house. It was strange, he’d admit it, but if it meant he got to be with you, he would conform to whatever you wished from him.

A week. That’s all Miguel would get. One week of happiness and blissful ignorance is all he would get. On the night of the first Sunday he would spend there, he found you standing alone on the balcony of your home, looking out at the city around you as you took in the peaceful night. His eyes were locked on your figure, and immediately he knew something was wrong.

“(Y/n), darling? Are you ok?” Miguel’s voice was barely a whisper as he walked to your side. Slowly, his hand found its place on the small of your back, ever so slowly daring to inch up to your shoulder. You remained silent, only leaning against the iron rod fencing around the area of your balcony as Miguel examined the side of your face. Miguel felt his heart begin to race, and he couldn’t deny that he was consumed with worry as he noticed the smile you normally wore was long gone. As his hand landed on your shoulder, he felt your body shudder, and his eyes widened.

You were crying.

Tears streamed down your face with no remorse, not even daring to spare you the embarrassment of being discovered by Miguel in this state. The brunette man beside you felt his free hand move without hesitation, preparing to place itself on your cheek and wipe away your tears before you flinched away from his touch. His hand faltered, and his heart threatened to stop.

“Stop.” You spoke bitterly, a heart-wrenching glare shooting up at Miguel as his hand pulled back quickly. ‘What?’ His mind took off faster than he could handle, ‘What happened?’ He questioned internally, his heart skipping beats as nerves crept up his body. This past week was paradise for him and you, every minute of every day was spent with him pampering you with the love you deserved. He thought back to every second he’d spent in your presence, trying to figure out what he could have done to upset you. And he kept drawing blanks.

“(Y/n)? Sweetheart, what happened?” He asked oh so gently. His words were hushed, each one delivered with such carefulness it seemed as though he were afraid of hurting you by simply speaking. Your eyes flickered up to his, your heart faltering as you noticed the expression now painted on his face. Miguel looked so lost, his eyes glimmering with fear as he looked down at you steadily, his gaze didn’t falter as you straightened your posture and ran your hands over your flushed cheeks. A soft sigh escaped your lips, and your glare seemed to soften as you noticed the worry painted across his face. Miguel knew you’d seen this worry before, if not on him, on the face of his counterpart. But at this moment, the way you looked at him made his heart skip a beat, the anger in your eyes was entirely new, and you looked at him like he was someone you didn’t know.

“You happened.” You whispered. Your voice was bitter with betrayal, a wave of anger lacing your tone so easily it was almost as though it was natural for you. Miguel felt his eyes widen, taken aback by your comment. He almost stumbled backward, feeling as though he had just been hit by a freight train at full speed. 'He happened? What?' His confusion was evident as he looked at you.

“You’re not my Miguel….” A soft sigh escaped your lips as you reigned in your tears. Miguel felt his heart skip a beat.

You knew.

You figured him out.

Oh god. You knew...

“What?” He asked breathlessly. His hand pulled away from your body as he took a step back. Your eyes scanned him over, bitterness dripping from your gaze as you did.

“My Miguel had a crooked scar on the bridge of his nose and a lopsided smile.” You pointed to Miguel’s face before your hand fell back to your side, “My husband died three weeks ago…he died in my arms…I buried him alone….you are not him.” Your voice was soft as you spoke, pain evident in your tone. Miguel couldn’t even begin to defend himself. What he’d done was horrible. The realization of the pain he must have caused you tore a shaky gasp from his lips as he looked away from you.

“You died in my universe..” He began, only for you to cut him off all too quickly.

“And you died here.” You snapped at him, “But I didn’t steal my dead husband’s multiverse goober and run off to find some grieving Miguel and try to replace myself.” Your argument was valid, but Miguel couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it. He knew what he did was wrong, he just didn’t want to accept the reality.

“It’s not a goober- it’s a gizmo..” Was all he could respond. You let out a laugh of pure annoyance. His audacity was truly record-breaking.

“That is really not important right now.” You hissed through gritted teeth. Miguel looked back at you, the defeat on his face apparent.

“Sorry.” He murmured. You only rolled your eyes. “Please, (Y/n), You have to understand why I did this…I had a chance to have my wife back-.” He began to try and defend himself, but you quickly shut him down.

“Miguel, I completely understand, but this needs to stop. And it’s going to stop.” Your tone was laced with a wave of sympathetic anger. Of course, you understood why he did what he did, your husband died in your arms, and you were left completely alone..deep down, you knew that you had to bury his multiverse watch with him in order to keep yourself from doing what the Miguel in front of you did. But that didn’t make anything any better. You understood his grief and his loss, but you understood that having him here was chipping away at your heart relentlessly. Miguel prepared to argue against you, but you put your hand up in a silencing motion.

“Miguel, you need to go home.” You began, your hands clasping over your heart, “I can’t keep looking at your face…his face…it’s killing me. Every day I wake up, and I see you lying there next to me, and the only thought in my mind is that you’re not mine…” You fought back the tears that pooled at the corners of your eyes again. Miguel might look like your husband, but he never was, and he never will be. You knew you’d never see your husband again, and the man in front of you only made your heart break with every second he spent at your side. Miguel looked away from you, his eyebrows furrowed as he realized he'd been caught in his frivolous attempt to return to his life before his wife's death. That grief, the guilt, it was so evident on his face, but even if it made your heart hurt, you couldn't let him stay. Slowly, you turned your attention back to the glimmering city surrounding the two of you.

“Y’know…I left the door unlocked for weeks…waiting for him to walk back in and just tell me it was okay.” You whispered softly, “I watched his body be put in the ground, but I still held out hope…and then you showed up, and I wanted to believe the lie I'd told myself.” Your hands held each other gently, trying to support yourself with every breath you took. Miguel looked down at you, standing by your side after a sigh escaped him. "I wanted to believe that he was back, but this, this is too much...and everything hurts worse knowing that someone I don't know is wearing my husband's face and sleeping in our bed."

“I know how you feel..” He whispered gently, “When you- when she- died, I felt like the last good part of me died with her…I’ve never been more angry with the world.” His confession was weighted, and it was clearly the last thing he wanted to admit as he spoke with obvious hesitation.

“But it didn’t. Miguel, you’re still so good and so loving…You’re just hurting right now.” You argued gently. It took everything in you to be gentle. Truthfully, you wanted to scream, to slap him across the face and let him have it for everything he put you through…But something was stopping you, and you knew exactly what it was. That goddamn face of his. If he looked like anyone else, you’d have no problem giving him your full fury, but that was his face, just missing the scar and the smile. You sighed softly as no response came from the taller man, your head hung low as you rested your forehead in your crossed arms. You’d always been strong, but right now, you just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, right now, you just wanted your husband. Miguel knew it too. Miguel watched as you toppled over, your arms crossed on the iron rod railing and your face hidden as you leaned down. You did that a lot, hiding your face when an emotion became too much for you to handle, he always found it cute. But now, he just felt bad…no, he felt horrible.

“How do I fix it?” He asked softly after a few minutes of silence passed between you two. You looked up at him quickly, your eyes wide with surprise as you heard him speak. “Other than going home, I know I have to do that…” He added before you could say the same thing.

“Well…I guess you go live the rest of your life doing what she would want you to do…Do you think she’d want you to be miserable all the time?” You began slowly, your posture straightened as you looked up at Miguel. The mention of his wife from your lips made him look away, it was obvious that whatever happened to her truly haunted him.

“I feel guilty too, y’know.” You added. His attention snapped to you immediately, his eyes wide before he turned away. “I see it written on your face, you feel guilty about her death… don’t you?” Your eyes locked on the side of his face, your gaze unwavering as you watched him.

“I wasn’t there when she needed me most…” He whispered. His breath was shaky, his hands held to the iron rod fencing in front of him tightly. "She was killed because of me."

“Miguel, even if you were there, nothing would have changed.” You stated the obvious. Miguel knew you were right, he just hated to hear you say it. “I was there when my husband died, and I couldn’t do anything to save him…” your voice grew bitter with grief, and quickly, Miguel’s eyes flickered to yours for a second.

“Do you think about that night a lot?” His question came with a sudden crashing weight on your shoulders. His eyes held your gaze, unwavering and laced with the knowledge of your answer. Of course you thought about that night. How could you not? The image of finding your husband bloodied and bruised on the dark concrete of an alleyway a few miles from your home haunted you.

That night haunted you.

You remembered the feeling of falling to your knees at his side, gently holding him in your arms as sadness immediately flooded you..it always seemed that before you knew what was happening, your heart knew what would come. You remembered the look on his face, how hard he tried to console you, but the fear in his eyes spoke louder than his words, your husband wasn’t a scared man, but for the first time on that night, you saw fear trap him and hold him hostage. You remembered how you begged him to let you call an ambulance and how when you reached for your phone, he stole it from your hands, he knew he would die no matter what, and he wasn’t going to let you waste your last moments with him on the phone with paramedics.

‘No…no, you gotta look at me.’ He would say softly, his blood-soaked hand holding the side of your face gently, ‘I love you. Okay? Don’t you ever forget that- you are the love of my life, and it was an honor to have known and married you.’ His eyes shut tightly as a bolt of pain shot through his body, and your heartbeat quickened to an alarming rate. The fear, the anger, the denial- it was too much. Your husband was dying, and you could do nothing to stop it. There was nothing you could do to save him.

‘Mig…save your strength, let me call them, please…let me help you.’ You begged through consistent tears. Miguel looked up at you sadly, his body growing colder by the minute.

‘You’re so strong, so resilient, and so unbelievably stunning…I wish I had more time to tell you just how much I adore you.’ He smiled up at you, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever known a love like yours, and I am so thankful that you let me be your husband.’ And with that, his hand fell from your face, a shaky breath escaping his lips. You watched in horror, begging whatever god might be out there for this moment to be a horrible dream. But as Miguel’s chest rose for the last time, you realized no one was coming to wake you up.

“Of course.” You finally answered. Miguel nodded slightly, looking back to the city surrounding the two of you.

“I’m sorry..” he murmured. You shrugged your shoulders, everything sucked, and everything still hurt, but what could you do about it? Miguel seemed to share your silent sentiment as his hand ran through his curly brown hair. The two of you fell silent for a moment before you spoke up, disturbing the already uneasy night.

“I think it’s time for you to go.” You spoke softly, a gentle bitterness lacing your tone. Miguel’s head fell forward in defeat as he buried his face in his hands.

“I don’t know if I can go back.” He mumbled, your eyebrow raised. You knew he could. If he was anything like your husband, you knew he could go back and return to the life he once led, just a little bit more broken than before.

“Well, you have to.” There was a gentle sternness to your voice, “And if you don’t go back to your universe, you can’t stay here. And you can’t go find me anywhere else…It’s cruel and unfair.” You lectured him softly, earning a nod of agreement from the man. He knew what he did was wrong, and it was apparent to you that it was hurting him just as deeply as it was hurting you, now you just needed him to leave…and never return.

“This feels like losing you all over again.” He complained softly, his hands visibly shaking as he lifted his head from his hands. You turned to face him in your entirety, and gently, you took his hands in yours.

“But you’re not losing her. You’re walking away from a version of her that isn’t yours.” You reminded him, earning a soft sigh from the taller man. You knew that your words were harsh, but someone had to say it, and you knew you were the only person he’d listen to. Miguel remained silent for a while, and you could see the war waging in his eyes. The ruby-red eyes that peered down at you were so conflicted, one side set on ignoring your anger and refusing to leave, whereas the other side was wracked with guilt and knew that he had gone too far. Miguel knew which side was right, and as he took in a deep breath, his hands gently squeezed yours.

“I can never apologize for the pain I caused you…I was so blinded by my grief that I ignored the damage I could be doing, and I am forever sorry for that.” He spoke softly as if he were afraid his words would cause you harm if he spoke too loudly. “I’ll return to my universe…Thank you for being so good to me while I was here. It was nice- having my wife back for a while.” Miguel’s voice dropped to nonexistence as he peered deeply into your eyes. You took in every word he spoke, a sympathetic smile forming on your face. He stepped away from you, pressing a few buttons on the watch on his wrist and keeping his eyes locked on yours as a vibrant explosion of colors appeared behind him. His portal home waited expectantly.

“Goodbye, Miguel.” You spoke softly, “It was nice having you back…But I sincerely hope I never see you again.” A pained chuckle left your lips, and Miguel nodded in understanding. He gave you a soft smile before turning over his shoulder, disappearing into the portal that closed behind him seconds later. Slowly, you turned back to the city surrounding your home and took a deep breath of air. Your husband was gone, but a part of you felt relieved knowing that in the multiverse surrounding you, he was still somewhere out there….for better or for worse.

Taglist:

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