I'm Spider-Man (MCU)

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"Uncle Aaron?!" Miles called out, his voice a mix of shock and nostalgia as he stared at the purple-clad figure before him. "Is that you?"

The realization that this version of his universe's Aaron Davis, his Uncle Aaron, had become the Prowler once again hit him like a freight train.

Memories flooded back… the time he faced off against Kingpin with his group chat members, and how he fought his uncle as Spider-Man. It reminded him of his earlier days as a super hero.

The Prowler, tilted his head in confusion, the purple glow of his masked eyes staring straight at Miles. "How do you know that name?" he demanded, a hint of anger seeping into his distorted voice. "How long have you been spying here?"

He certainly wasn't Aaron Davis, and Peter knew that, though the fact that these unknown stalkers knew that name alarmed him. After all, who wouldn't be upset by the revelation that someone had been spying on your family?

Miles, struggling to process the situation, raised his hands in a placating gesture. "No, we're not spying. I just... I recognize you, that's all," he explained, desperation in his voice. He hoped to defuse the tension and talk things out, but it didn't seem to be working as he'd hoped.

The Prowlers anger deepened as he clenched his clawed hands. "Has anyone ever told you that you're bad at lying?" He said as his stance grew defensive, ready to take on any perceived threat to his loved ones. "Now tell the truth… or else."

Miles attempted to calm the situation. "Listen, we're not a threat. We're just trying to help..." He paused, realizing the complexity of the situation. "If we can all just calm down, then I can explain… This doesn't have to get violent, Uncle Aaron-"

"Stop saying that name!" The Prowler, however, wasn't convinced. He shouted and leaped forward, attacking with swift and precise movements, his metallic claws aiming for the kill.

"Wait, just calm down!" Miles dodged, yelling for him to stop and talk, but the Prowler was fueled by a mix of protectiveness and rage.

As the conflict escalated, the Prowler reached into his belt, pulling out a high-tech pistol, pointing it directly at Peter and Miles. Seconds later, Purple energy bullets shot through the air, homing in on his enemies.

With overwhelming strength, Peter slapped the bullets away, which startled the Prowler, who began to look at Peter in a much more serious and fearful light.

Meanwhile Miles weaved around them, his body crackling with energy as he darted straight for the Prowler. "You asked for this!" He said as he went on the offensive, hoping to subdue his opponent without hurting him too much.

Peter observed the intense battle between two versions of the same person. Their movements were synchronized, as if they could anticipate each other's every move.

Soon enough, It struck him that since they were technically the same individual, they had this weird knack for reading each others movements, which made the very interesting to watch.

The clash continued, each combatant trying to gain the upper hand. The Prowler, fueled by a desire to protect his family, faced off against his doppelgänger from another universe, Miles, who simply wanted to talk things out. Both sides wearing masks, neither realizing the identity of the other.

…

..

.

The clash continued for minutes on end, Miles and the Prowler locked in a fierce struggle. Peter, growing weary of the fruitless confrontation, decided it was time to intervene. He casually approached the battling duo, surprising them both as he stepped between the combatants without warning, reaching out with both hands and firmly grasping their necks.

Holding them still, Peter glanced between them. "Let's call it a draw, shall we?"

Waiting for a response, Peter raised a brow as both of them started struggling in his grasp, trying to break free. Sighing in annoyance, he lifted them off the ground before swiftly smashing them into the rooftop, causing it to shake and crack slightly upon impact.

The Prowler coughed up blood from the forceful collision. Unlike Miles, who could endure such a hit with a mere grunt of pain, the Prowler's body wasn't enhanced in any way, shape, or form, the impact taking a toll on him.

Staring down at the two prone figures, Peter asked in a deadpan tone, "Are you guys done now?"

Miles, grunting in pain, managed to mutter, "Yeah, I think we're done."

Meanwhile, the Prowler seemed to have stopped moving, seemingly unconscious from the damage inflicted by Peter's forceful intervention.

Peter, raising a brow, frowned at the unexpected result. "Did I hit him too hard?"

Miles, scrambling to his feet, rushed over to the Prowler's side. He scolded Peter, "You idiot! He's just a normal person. You shouldn't have slammed him that hard."

Awkwardly scratching the back of his head, Peter never thought he'd find himself being lectured by Miles. 'I guess there's a first time for everything…'

Discretely using his X-Ray vision, Peter checked the Prowlers condition, 'Meh, he'll be fine…' He shrugged it off, seeing no life threatening injuries.

As Miles knelt beside the unconscious Prowler, he reached out to pull off the mask and check on his well-being. "Uncle Aaron, are you okay?" He asked worriedly.

However, before he could uncover the identity beneath the purple mask, a gunshot echoed through the rooftop. The bullet hit the ground next to Miles, startling him.

Looking up, Miles's eyes widened as what appeared to be his Uncle Aaron stepped out of a stairwell door that lead to the roof, a gun trained on him. "Step away from him…" He ordered, a bloodthirsty, protective look in his eyes.

Miles muttered in disbelief, "Uncle Aaron?" He glanced between the Prowler and this universes version of his actual uncle, confusion etching his features. If Uncle Aaron wasn't the Prowler, then who was behind the mask?

The tension on the rooftop escalated as the realization sank in. The imposter beneath the Prowler's mask was now incapacitated, and Miles was dying to know who it was.

But first, he'll have to deal with his uncle.

Uncle Aaron's eyes narrowed, the gun trained on Miles, as tension hung in the air like a thick fog. "Easy now. Make one wrong move, and you'll find a bullet between your eyes," he warned, his voice low and threatening.

Miles, cautiously raising his hands, attempted to defuse the situation. "Uncle Aaron, relax. Just... let's talk this out without any violence, okay?"

"Shut up!" Uncle Aaron barked, his gaze flickered to Peter, who stood behind Miles and the Prowler. "And you," he said, redirecting his attention, "don't think you're off the hook either. Breath wrong, and you'll get a bullet as well."

Peter, unfazed, replied nonchalantly, "Sure thing, old man." He left this confrontation to Miles, as he sat back and watched the drama unfold. 'Maybe I should conjure some snacks?'

Seconds later, the gun shifted back to Miles, who sighed and reached up toward his mask. But before he could even touch it, Uncle Aaron fired a warning shot, the bullet whizzing dangerously close to Miles' ear. "I told you to stop. Don't push your luck," Uncle Aaron growled, his finger twitching on the trigger. "Now, step away slowly…"

Ignoring his demands and warnings, Miles slowly removed his mask, revealing his face, tossing the mask aside in the process.

Instantly, Uncle Aaron's eyes widened in shock, uncertainty etching his features. "What the…?"

"It's me, Uncle Aaron," Miles said softly, hoping his identity could help solve all of this.

Uncle Aaron seemed torn, his gaze shifting between Miles and the unconscious Prowler. "What the hell is going on here?" he muttered, uncertainty and disbelief battling within him.

As confusion mounted, Uncle Aaron began to lower the gun slightly. "…"

Seizing the opportunity, Miles moved with inhuman speed, rushing forward to disarm him. With a swift motion, Miles grasped the gun's barrel and squeezed, bending the metal effortlessly.

Realizing he had been tricked, Uncle Aaron pulled the trigger in desperation. But without the barrel intact, the bullet couldn't escape, causing the gun to explode in his hand. "Aarrghh!" Screaming, he dropped the useless weapon, frantically inspecting his hands for any injuries.

Breathing a sigh of relief, as he found no injuries, Uncle Aaron looked up at Miles, a bewildered look on his face. "Who… Who are you?" Uncle Aaron asked, still processing the unexpected turn of events.

Miles replied proudly, "I'm Spider-Man."

Peter nodded approvingly, eating chips through his mask like a pro. "*munch… munch… munch…*"

Turning away from his now-unarmed Uncle, Miles eyes the downed form of the Prowler, the curiosity of who could be under the mask gnawing at him. "?"

"Wait! Please, just leave him alone!" Uncle Aaron yells as Miles walk away from him and toward the mysterious downed individual.

Ignoring his uncle's pleas, Miles walked over, determined to uncover the identity beneath the purple mask. Uncle Aaron's urgent cries to stay away fell on deaf ears as Miles crouched beside the fallen figure.

Fingers carefully reached for the Prowler's mask once again, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. As Miles pulled it off, revealing the face hidden beneath, his eyes widened in shock. "I-It's… me? I'm the Prowler?!"

[Insert picture of Prowler Miles face reveal here]

It was him, the unmistakable features of this universe's Miles Morales, unconscious and beaten.

Uncle Aaron's pleas turned into stunned silence as he stared at his two nephews, unsure which was the real one. "Okay… Can someone please tell me what the f*ck is going on?!" He exclaimed, unable to contain himself any longer.

A/N: 1620 words :)

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