A little over a week ago I wrote part one to this imagine. If you want to go back to read it to refresh your memory, I moved it so that it is now located directly before this one. So. Scroll up or Scroll < that way to refresh your memory if needed. 

Thank you for your patience on this!

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Miles promised Peter that he would always take care of you, no matter what happened. When he first promised it, he brushed it aside. What was Peter so scared of?

But exactly one month after Miles promised that, something happened. 

It was two in the morning, and he had woken up to the feeling of his Spidey sense. He was up now, his phone in his hands. Everything was okay with his family, everything was okay with Ganke, nothing was on the news... 

Was it you?

Miles could only text you if he opened up the portal that could bring him to the other dimensions. Luckily, he, Gwen, and your dad had invented something to do just that. So Miles got dressed in his suit, mask on, and opened it up. He jumped through it. He handed on a roof of a random building, right in New York that wasn't really his New York, but one he had grown comfortable with.

He sent you a text, but he didn't need to hit send. 

It was all over. On every screen. 

SPIDER-MAN FOUND DEAD.

"No," Miles whispered. He stumbled back. "No, how... how could he-"

People were stopped on the streets, staring at the screens or at their phones. Crying. Freezing. Surprised. Horrified. 

"It's not real," he reminded himself. "This isn't real. This is a misunderstanding. It's a... it's a bad dream-"

But then there was a side-by-side picture of Peter's face. 

This isn't real.

"____," Miles whispered. He started to run towards your neighborhood, quickly switching from running to swinging. 

He was gasping, crying, panicking - completely terrified and shocked. "He's going to be okay," he tried to convince himself. 

Miles landed on your sidewalk, tripping and landing on his palms. He wasn't able to pay attention to what he was doing. "___!" He got up, then stopped. 

At the front door were two policemen, their hats in their hands. You and MJ were in the doorway, sobbing. 

"No," Miles breathed. 

It was real. 

//

Miles stayed behind. He went to the funeral. He held you when they closed the casket for good. He held you when they lowered it into the ground. He held you when you and your mother gave a speech to the entire city. 

And that night, he stayed with you as you sat up all night, sobbing.

Your mom had gone to bed already. You were sitting on the couch, a cup of coffee that had already cooled in your hands. 

Miles took the cup. "Maybe you should try to lay down," he suggested.

"N-No!" you protested, shaking your head. "I... I can't."

"____, you haven't slept in four days- gah!" His sentence was cut short as his body glitched. He had been in the wrong dimension for too long. 

You wiped your nose. "You need to go home," you mumbled.

"No," he said, recovering quickly. "Not when you need me." He grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around you. Then he rubbed your shoulders, trying to ease you into sleep...

"Stop it, Miles," you said. "I'm not sleeping."

"But you need-"

"You don't know what I need!" you suddenly screamed, pushing against his chest. He held his hands up in surrender. "Stop acting like you know how this feels."

His face hardens. "I do know how this feels," he reminded you. 

You fell apart, feeling guilty and ashamed. You dropped your face in your hands and sobbed loudly. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he said. "I'm not mad. You're hurting, I know. I know you're just hurting." He wrapped his arms around you and held you close and tight.

"Don't leave me," you gasped, clutching his shoulders. 

"I'm not going anywhere," he assured you.

//

On top of trying to make sure you were okay, Miles was dealing with his own guilt and hard feelings. He was exhausted emotionally. 

He sat on the back porch step, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. He sniffed loudly. 

"I'm sorry, man," he whispered to no where in particular. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to save you. I should have been there that night. I mean... did you call me? Did you think about me when you went off on that mission? Were you depending on me?"

The door opened. "Miles?" 

Miles turned around fast, gasping. "Oh! Hey." He turned around again, his shoulders tense. "I thought you were going to shower."

"I was, but I heard you go outside. Is everything alright?" 

"Everything's fine," he lied. "Go on, okay? It's cold out here."

"You've been crying," you said. "I can tell."

He cringed. "Uh-"

You took a seat next to him. Miles panicked; you weren't wearing a jacket at all. He shed his hoodie, leaving him in just a t-shirt. "Put this on," he said. 

You did. But you said, "Miles. Talk to me. Are you crying because of... him?" 

Miles did not answer. 

"Miles," you said again, and you paused. "My dad... about a month ago... he said - he made me promise to keep you safe. He said he didn't know what was going to happen, but there would be a point in time when you would need me. I think he meant for a time like this, because he knew it was bound to happen sometime soon."

He looked at you, eyes wide. "He told you to protect me?" he whispered.

You nodded. "No matter what," he said. "That's what he told me."

"He - he told me to do the same for you. About a month ago." 

You nodded, a sad smile on your lips. Tears started to spill, but they weren't tears from being particularly upset. You were just missing your dad, and you were happy to hear something new about him-

"He did, did he?" When Miles nodded, a breathless laugh burst out of you, followed by more tears. "Well. Then I guess we need to keep our promises, huh?" 

"I promise I will," he said. He held out his hand. "Forever and ever."

You nodded and put your hand in his. Intertwining your fingers with his, you whispered, "Forever and always."