The first rays of morning barely cut through the mist rising off the streets of the busy city. Brooklyn Rivera groaned as her alarm blared, throwing the blanket over her head. Today was the day Miles had decided she would "start proper training." She wasn't thrilled.
Rolling out of bed, she muttered to herself, "I just survived dishwashing last night. This feels like cruel punishment." She tugged on her sneakers and hoodie, the uniform of a barely functioning early-morning Spider-Woman-in-training. Her reflection in the mirror gave her a look of mutual scepticism. "Good luck, you're about to embarrass yourself," she whispered.
By the time she reached the rooftop where Miles was waiting, her hoodie was clinging damply to her back, and her hair was sticking out in every direction possible. Miles was perched on the edge like he belonged there, legs dangling, watching the city wake slowly beneath them.
"You're late," he said, smirking. "But I'll let it slide. First lesson waits for no one."
Brooklyn raised an eyebrow. "Lesson? What kind of lesson? Are we talking gymnastics? Physics? Or how to survive death by fall?"
Miles chuckled. "All of the above. But we'll start with something simple. Balance. Your body, your instincts, and your awareness of the city."
Brooklyn groaned. "Simple. Got it."
She stepped carefully to the edge of the rooftop, peering down. The street below seemed impossibly far, even though she knew from past escapades that she could handle herself. Her stomach flipped.
"Think of it as a warm-up," Miles said, noticing her hesitation. "Nothing too extreme. Just a small jump to that ledge." He pointed a few feet away. "Ready?"
Brooklyn swallowed hard. Her instincts screamed "don't!" but something in Miles's calm, steady presence made her hesitate less. She took a deep breath, planted her feet, and leapt.
She landed solidly, knees bending just enough to absorb the impact. Her chest pounded. "Oh… my… god. I did it."
Miles clapped lightly. "See? Not impossible. Now, do it again, a little faster."
Brooklyn groaned but obeyed, heart hammering. The next leap felt smoother. And the next. Each attempt made her chest lighter, the fear mixing with exhilaration until she was laughing, the city lights painting her face in a golden hue.
"Not bad," Miles said. "But let's work on your posture and timing. Feet first, relax your arms a bit more. You want to flow with the motion, not fight it."
Brooklyn tried again, adjusting to his instructions. Sweat dripped from her hairline, sticking strands to her face, but the rhythm of movement began to feel natural. She was moving, leaping, landing, and it no longer felt like she might die with every jump.
"So this is my new life, huh?" she said, panting. "Jumping off rooftops, trying not to splatter on the sidewalk."
Miles laughed. "Welcome to the Spider-Woman life. Exciting, right?"
Brooklyn smirked. "If by exciting, you mean terrifying. Yeah… thrilling. I'm thrilled."
There was a pause, a quiet moment where the city below seemed to slow, the early morning traffic just a hum. Brooklyn looked at Miles, noticing for the first time how calm he was, how much he trusted her even in her fumbling attempts. It was… comforting.
"Look," he said quietly, almost to himself, "it's not about being perfect. It's about surviving. And you're learning."
Brooklyn smiled, feeling a rush of warmth—not from the sun, not from adrenaline—but from the rare, quiet approval of someone she respected. "Surviving… I can do that."
The session stretched for hours—or maybe minutes, time seemed odd up here—but Brooklyn's confidence grew with each leap, each cautious step along ledges, each minor victory. She stumbled, she laughed, she cursed under her breath, and with every attempt, she was learning.
By the end, she was perched on a high rooftop, breathing heavily, watching the city wake. Miles joined her silently, leaning against the edge.
"You're improving," he said, softly. "Faster than I expected."
Brooklyn rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter me too much. I might start thinking I'm good at this."
Miles smiled, just faintly. "You are good. You just don't know it yet."
Brooklyn laughed. It wasn't just the exhilaration of the rooftop or the thrill of surviving each jump—it was the sense that maybe, just maybe, she belonged here. That she wasn't just a girl bitten by a radioactive spider. She was something… more.
And for the first time since the bite, the fear of the unknown didn't feel so heavy.
Brooklyn wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her sleeve, leaving streaks of dirt across her skin. She eyed the next rooftop gap nervously. "Okay… next one. This one looks farther." Her stomach knotted, a mix of excitement and fear.
Miles crouched beside her, studying her intently. "Distance doesn't matter as much as commitment. You jump all in, or you don't jump at all. Hesitation kills more than height."
She stared at him, flabbergasted. "Wow. That's… terrifyingly motivational. Thanks, Coach."
He shrugged, a small smirk playing under his mask. "Don't thank me yet. Just… jump."
Brooklyn took a deep breath, swung her arms, and leapt. Halfway through, the wind whipped into her chest, making her heart lurch. Her reflexes kicked in—web line shooting automatically, fingers gripping tight—and she landed with a lurch, legs wobbling but intact.
"See?" Miles called from the next rooftop. "Nothing to it!"
Brooklyn laughed, shaky and loud, the sound echoing across the empty city. "Nothing to it, she says! My heart just tried to escape my chest!"
Miles dropped down beside her, crouched low. "That's adrenaline. You'll get used to it."
"I hope so," she muttered. "Because if I don't, I'm going to have to find a new career. Dishwashing doesn't sound terrifying enough anymore."
Miles chuckled, tossing a small pebble off the ledge. "You think this is scary? Wait until we start swinging over actual traffic."
Brooklyn groaned. "I'll take my chances with the dishes, thanks."
They took a pause, sitting side by side on the edge of the rooftop. Brooklyn traced the skyline with her eyes—the flickering streetlights, the glimmer of water along the East River, the chaos of cars and early pedestrians below. For a moment, she felt like she was part of something bigger, something thrilling she hadn't known she could be.
"You ever think about why we're doing this?" she asked quietly. "Not just swinging and crawling and trying not to die… I mean, why Spider-people?"
Miles tilted his head, thoughtful. "Because someone has to. Because we can. Because… it matters. And yeah, because it's kind of awesome."
Brooklyn laughed softly, leaning back on her hands. "I guess I can get behind the awesome part." She glanced at him, a flicker of curiosity crossing her expression. "Even if it's terrifying."
Miles just smiled beneath his mask. "Terrifying and awesome usually go together."
She let out a long exhale, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease slightly. "Okay… one more jump, then I swear I'm done for today. Or until my muscles explode."
Miles nodded. "Deal. One more jump, but this time… look at it as flying, not falling."
Brooklyn's eyes widened. Flying. She swallowed, heart racing. Maybe she could do this. Maybe she would survive. And maybe, just maybe, she was starting to trust herself—and him—more than she thought she could.