Epilogue Part 1

Timeline: 2001

It had been four years since Michael Wilson, the legendary Spider-Man, had disappeared, leaving a gaping hole in the lives of those who knew him. Peter Parker, now 20 years old, found himself walking in the park with Mary Jane Watson. The park was peaceful, with no people around to overhear their private conversation, giving them a rare moment of tranquility amid the chaos of their lives.

 

 

Peter looked at Mary Jane, his thoughts heavy, but her presence always gave him a sense of comfort. "Hey, MJ." he said softly.

 

 

Mary Jane, her smile bright and warm, turned to him. "You're here, Pete," she replied, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him. She always did that—made him feel like everything was going to be okay, even when it wasn't.

 

 

Peter scratched the back of his head, a sheepish look crossing his face. "Sorry, I uh... you know." he started, referring to his responsibilities as Spider-Man.

 

 

Mary Jane chuckled softly. "I get it—those vigilante things again," she teased, her voice gentle. "You know you could rest for a while. You don't always have to carry the world on your shoulders."

 

 

Peter sighed, smiling at her concern. "Yeah, I do sometimes. But you always scold me, and I don't want you worrying about me all the time."

 

 

Mary Jane grinned, her affection clear in her eyes. "That's my boy." she said playfully, leaning in as Peter kissed her. Their lips met in a slow, passionate kiss, the kind that only came from years of deep connection and love.

 

 

After a moment, Mary Jane pulled away slightly, her hand still resting on his chest. "So, how's your day been?" she asked, her tone light, but she could see the tension still lingering behind Peter's smile.

 

 

Peter's expression shifted, frustration creeping back into his features. "Like always... still nothing," he admitted, his voice thick with disappointment. "I can't find him, MJ. We can't find Michael."

 

 

Mary Jane's smile softened, knowing how much Michael Wilson had meant to Peter. He had been more than just a mentor—he had been a guiding light, a hero that even Peter looked up to. "You said all of you have been searching for him." she said, her voice calm and encouraging.

 

 

"Yeah," Peter nodded. "I've been working with Miguel O'Hara—you know, the Spider-Man from the future. I told you about him, right? We've been to his universe, where the Spider Society is based. We're trying to create something—anything—that could bring Michael back, but..." His voice trailed off in frustration. "It's still no use."

 

 

Mary Jane reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay, Pete. I know one day you'll find him," she said softly. "You'll figure it out. You always do."

 

 

Peter looked at her, grateful for her unwavering belief in him. "Thanks, MJ." he said, his voice soft but filled with emotion.

 

 

Mary Jane smiled, brushing a stray hair from his face. "We're partners forever, remember?"

 

 

"Yeah," Peter said with a small smile. "Partners."

 

 

Her smile widened as she asked, "How about Miles? What's his superhero name again? The Arachnid Spider?"

 

 

Peter couldn't help but laugh. "Hahaha! It's Kid Arachnid." he corrected, still chuckling at her playful teasing.

 

 

Mary Jane tilted her head, looking thoughtful. "So, do you think he's ready to fight solo?"

 

 

Peter shrugged, but there was pride in his voice. "Well, like I told you, I was in another universe for a while, so Miles was the only one here fighting solo, saving people. And he did fine. I think he can handle it. After all, the kid's got two abilities. I'm still a little jealous of that."

 

 

Mary Jane laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. "Come on, Pete. No matter how many abilities Miles has, there's only one Peter Parker. You're stronger than anyone—the one who was trained by the legendary Spider-Man himself."

 

 

Peter blushed slightly, his usual confidence wavering under her praise. "You're overpraising me too much, MJ." he said with a bashful smile, though there was a warmth in his voice, knowing how much she believed in him. Her unwavering support always had a way of grounding him, even in moments of doubt.

 

 

Mary Jane grinned, shaking her head playfully. "I'm just telling the truth, Pete. You always sell yourself short."

 

 

Peter chuckled softly. "Well, I guess that's why I've got you to keep me in check."

 

 

Mary Jane leaned in closer, her voice gentle yet firm. "Exactly. And I'll keep reminding you just how amazing you are until you finally believe it."

 

 

The two of them sat there, in the quiet park, their conversation drifting back and forth between the heavy burdens of being heroes and the small, everyday moments that made them human. Even as Peter's thoughts wandered back to Michael Wilson, his mentor and friend, he felt a sense of peace, knowing that with Mary Jane by his side, he could face whatever came next.

...

Miguel O'Hara stood in front of the glowing monitors, his enhanced hearing picking up the faint hum of technology surrounding him. His fists clenched, frustration boiling over. "Where are you, Michael... God damnit!" Miguel muttered, his voice tight with anger and desperation. He slammed his fist against the wall with a resounding thud, feeling the impact vibrate through his arm. His mind was consumed by the endless search—four years of relentless searching for a man who seemed to have vanished from every universe.

 

 

Suddenly, behind him, a soft hum filled the air. A portal, swirling with vibrant colors, materialized. Miguel tensed, turning his head just as a familiar voice spoke from behind him. "Why are you punching a wall? It's not like it hit you." the voice said, with a hint of amusement.

 

 

Miguel froze. (That voice. It couldn't be… But it was.) The voice that had haunted his memories for the last four years. Michael Wilson.

 

 

Slowly, Miguel turned, eyes wide with disbelief. Standing there, in the portal's glow, was the man he'd been hunting across countless dimensions. "Michael Wilson." Miguel breathed, his heart pounding.

 

 

Michael gave a sly grin, leaning against the edge of the portal. "Miss me?" he said casually, as if he had just been gone for a coffee break instead of being lost across the multiverse for years.

 

 

Miguel's eyes narrowed, his emotions swirling between rage and disbelief. "Where have you been, you idiot? We've been searching for you for the past four years!" Miguel's voice cracked with the weight of his emotions, the stern tone of the usually stoic Spider-Man 2099 wavering.

 

 

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Oh come on, no hug?" His tone was light, but there was an unspoken weight in his eyes—an acknowledgment of everything that had happened, everything he had sacrificed.

 

 

Miguel took a step forward, his frustration boiling over again. "You!" he snapped, pointing a finger at Michael. "Do you have any idea what we've been through? What I've been through? I thought you were dead!" His voice cracked, the anger hiding the relief that was starting to break through.

 

 

Michael straightened, the smirk still on his face but softer now. "I had a few things to take care of." he said cryptically, as if the four years had passed in the blink of an eye for him.

 

 

Miguel took another step forward, his fists clenched. But this time, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to hit Michael or hug him. "You disappear, sacrifice yourself for the entire multiverse, and then come back like this? Without even telling us where you were?"

 

 

Michael let out a sigh, the humor fading from his expression. "I didn't have a choice, Miguel. What I did... it had to be done."

 

 

Miguel's anger ebbed away, replaced by something deeper. He unclenched his fists and looked at Michael with tired eyes. "I needed to thank you... and apologize. You saved everyone. Even... even my daughter's universe. I owe you everything."

 

 

Michael's expression softened, and he stepped closer. "You don't owe me anything, Miguel. I just did what I had to do."

 

 

Miguel's voice dropped to almost a whisper, the guilt he had carried for years finally surfacing. "I thought we lost you... without ever getting to say I was sorry."

 

 

Michael smiled, this time a genuine, warm smile. "Told you I was hard to get rid of."

 

 

To be continue