Spider-Man : The Morales Trilogy

Chapter 11

Miles was standing outside his apartment back in Harlem. He'd lived here until his father had died and he'd moved with his mother to Queens. But here he was, standing outside the apartment with the street just as he'd remembered. Littered with newspapers and empty cigarette packets.

"Hey, son," said a voice and Miles looked back at the apartment building to see Jeff Morales, his father sitting by the steps. He hadn't been there a couple of seconds ago.

"What the hell is this?" Miles asked. "I'm hallucinating?"

"Oh dear, I hope not," his father said. "Got any chicks at that school of yours, yet?"

"Who are you?"

"Wow, I must have been gone very long if you've forgotten what I look like, Miles. I'm your pops, son."

"You look like my father but you can't be him. My father's dead," Miles said. "This has to be a hallucination."

"Or maybe you're actually communicating with a ghost? Don't you believe in mystical shit, we've had a lot of weird shit go down in New York over the centuries."

"So you're actually my dad?" Miles asked.

"I guess so."

Miles's eyes swelled with tears and he rushed up the stairs to hug his dad. He could feel him again. He even felt slightly warm. And he smelled like the cologne his dad used to wear before his death. Jeff pulled away and looked at Miles sadly.

"If I can see you and feel you and even smell you, does that mean I'm dead too?" Miles asked.

"Not exactly. You're bordering between life and death right now but I wouldn't say you have much to worry about. Your new strength or abilities or whatever, they're healing you."

"This is insane," Miles said. "I can't believe I'm seeing you again."

"Miles, you need to stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop blaming myself for my death. You kept yourself safe like I would have wanted you to. Like I wanted you to. Things could have gone very differently that day but not the way you thought they would have. If you'd tried to help me, we'd both be dead. Your mother would be alone right now. And you wouldn't come to possess the power that you now do."

"I don't want any power. I want my father. Alive and sound," Miles said. "I want my family to be complete again."

"Miles, I was bound to die someday. No man is immortal. Not even the gods of Olympus lived forever," Jeff said. "No one lives forever."

"Not that way," Miles replied, his voice cracking up. "There had to be something I could have done to help."

"There is," Jeff said. "You need to stop beating yourself up over me. If you want to help people then that's fine, I won't talk my son out of being a hero. You just can't do it because of me. If you got yourself killed and it was because of me, do you know how much that would hurt?"

"You're the reason I'm doing it. If I'm not fighting for you, if I'm not being better for you then I'm not doing it at all! I have no other reason to be a hero!"

"Really?" Jeff queried and snorted. "We're Morales. We abide by a strict moral code but when a motherfucker out there hurts one of us, we let all hell break loose. We avenge. The son of a bitch who put you in this condition is still out there and until you've stopped him then you're not done fighting. We're not done fighting."

"I can't fight him. He's much stronger than me," Miles said.

"For starters, get an outfit. He had a pretty cool one and from my experience, heroes need their outfits. Cops have a uniform, doctors have a lab coat. Superheroes have tights."

"Really," Miles said and laughed. "You're joking right now."

"There's never a reason to lose optimism in life. Keep it close and keep it tight. Don't ever lose it. Not even in the darkest of times."

Miles nodded. "How does it feel?"

"How does what feel?"

"Not being alive. Being dead. Does it hurt? Is there heaven and is there hell? Is there an afterlife?"

"Those are all difficult questions for me to answer, Miles. It's just boring here, as you can see. Being dead is sort of like still existing but separate from the living. They don't see us. Don't hear us. Don't smell us. That's as good as it gets. Then there's the tormented ones who still want to live, being here hurts them. That's sort of like their hell. Eternal torment."

"Jeez, that's scary. Sorry I asked."

"You shouldn't be scared, Miles. Be brave," Jeff said. Miles felt a little bit different suddenly, like some sort of pull in his gut. And the world started becoming lighter to him.

"What's happening?" Miles asked.

"My guess is that you're regaining consciousness. Only reason you haven't been snapped back is because you're still holding on."

"Holding on to what?" Miles asked.

"Me, duh," Jeff said and grinned. "You need to let go, son. Move on. Find peace."

"I can't let go of you."

"Yeah, you can. You have a brilliant future ahead of you, Miles. It might be filled with danger at certain points but it's a great it future. Don't let it be hindered by me," Jeff said. "Let go," he added firmly.

"But I might never see you again. I can't let this end just now. I need a bit more time with you."

"You try to stay here longer than you have to and you risk losing the connection with your real body. You'll be stuck here forever. You'll be dead. And you will not be doing that to your mother, you hear me, son?"

"I love you, dad."

"I know. And I love you too, Miles. But you need to let go now. You need to move on."

Miles nodded and closed his eyes for a while and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he was in the Horizon High MedBay. His father wasn't anywhere to be seen again. He was back in the land of the living and for the first time since the day he'd watched his father die, he was genuinely happy to be alive.