Chapter Text
“Hey, Spidey.”
Peter’s blood ran cold, yet he burned everywhere .
Beside him, Ned gasped and looked behind him. “Dude, what? " He searched Peter’s face, which was focused on nothing but the ground as he stood, frozen. “Since when has Michelle known?!”
“She doesn’t,” Peter looked over his shoulder to see MJ turning into another hallway. Her face was in the book open in her hands and dammit , her dark curls hid any sort of expression she had played on her face.
“Well, why else would she be calling you -” Ned glanced around before leaning closer to Peter. “ Spidey?! ”
“You think I know?!” Peter whispered harshly back. They rounded a corner to go to the next hallway where Peter took a deep breath. “Look, maybe we just - I don't know, misinterpreted. Maybe she was saying hi to her friend named...Sammy. There’s a Sammy in this school.”
“Michelle doesn’t have friends,” Ned replied dully. Peter gave his friend a look with his mouth in a thin line. It was something he’s been using lately, ever since Ned has been going at it with the whole ‘MJ doesn’t have friends’ ordeal. Because, to MJ, they were her friends. Therefore they should act like it. Not like he minded it at all. “Look, dude.” Peter sighed and watched a kid’s backpack string swing as he walked a safe distance in front of he and ned. "If she knows, we need to know if and why she does. Before the whole school does.”
Peter scoffed. “Like it would interest MJ to tell everyone Peter Parker’s secret.” Ned’s ‘you never know’ face made him second guess, however. He scratched behind his ear and turned into his homeroom.
----
She loved this.
The book in front of her, yes. This new story had her hooked and she was only in the third chapter. But beyond that - literally - she looked over the rim to see Peter Parker opposite of her. His attempt of concealed worry crossed his face and heated his ears, the extra adrenaline making the tips of his finger tips drum.
She really set him off and loved it .
Who knew a little change in nicknames can benefit so much for one’s own amusement, yet throw the other’s balance of life over the edge just as much? It wasn't like the nickname was mean or anything. It was something everyone called him, just didn't know they were calling him, Peter Parker that.
The night before, she was antsy with the secret. She didn't know what to do now that her observations had been proven correct. Of course, she was not going to tell anyone. That would just be a dick move. However, she did want someone to know she knew. The ending decision being Parker himself was going to be both rational and entertaining. She wouldn't start rumors of any kind, and freak him out. Perfect.
Anyways, wouldn’t it be fair, too? He subconsciously picked her to know the big classified reveal, completing the circle is just civil.
But how she was to tell him, well, there was no right thing to follow there. That means that part is freestyle.
----
She was right across from him, and Peter has never felt more intimidated by MJ in his life.
There has been room for those times, too. Interrupting her reading is never really your best bet if you were planning on, you know, not dying in the hands of an emotionally detached teenager.
And these small looks she’d been giving him for the past ten minutes assured him a certain something . Maybe not death, but surely an event worse than it.
His finger tips became numb as the excessive drumming on the surface repeated over and over. But he couldn't help it; the sound was the only thing that could semi-block every single thought of the girl across from him from his head. Because, judging how little he actually knew about her besides what was obvious, she could be a spy. Or stimulation. Someone that would make him out himself on accident.
His thoughts cut off as a slight slam vibrated through the table. Peter removed his eyes from his fidgeting fingers to see MJ’s book closed with her elbows resting on each side of it. His eyes scanned up to her face, which starred back in the same bored expression she sported around the clock.
It was a few seconds before either spoke.
"I don't know what presentation you’re freaking’ out over, but you need to chill. It's pissing me off." He didn't respond back. He couldn't. Because every single thing that was lined up on his tongue were questions behind questions, no room for answers. Only questions about her secret. To her door.
Instead, Peter ran a hand through his hair and sorta out everything in his mind.
“Just thinking. Sorry that it's traveling.”
“Fix it.I can't concentrate between your aura and one-man-band you have going on,” MJ opened her book back up, this time the cover flat on the table.
His fingers stopped drumming. The only way to fix it was asking her. But simply asking her would assure she either knew or would find out. Dammit, logics.
--
At lunch, Peter found it more frightening that Michelle wasn't there as opposed to what sense of mind hed be in if she were. He had not a clue where she was, and thinking that ned would reassure him about the situation was a fool’s play. If anything, ned was worse at this than Peter.
“Do you think you might’ve sent a text to her instead of me?” Ned started laying out ideas. “Or maybe she saw you changing in an alley," He added.
“ Ned,” Peter replied in a harsh whisper. It was a silent telling of the statement, ‘the only thing you’re helping me with is how low my level of comfort is.’
This girl was going to kill him.
--
Spider-Man stayed in that night.
--
Aunt May became suspicious as soon as she walked in to see Peter watching TV in the living room for the third day in a row. Usually, he wasn't back until she had started dinner. The few times he was, it meant he was in his room doing homework.
It wasn't until dinner that she brought it up.
“So, is Spider-Man taking some vacation days?” Peter drew attention away from playing with his food, looking at her through his eyelashes.
Peter sighed. "I’m laying low for some time.” A silence followed.
“Who's supposed to be saving Queens’ bike thieves?”
"I don't think it would be as cool if people started finding out its a teenager under the mask.”
“Ah, so Spider-Man's identity feels fragile this week.”
“As breakable as an in-adhesive lego structure.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Well, who maybe knockin’ down that wall?” Understanding he may not have the appetite, Aunt May started to collect their dishes.
“This girl from school. We have a lot of classes together,” Peter informed. He pushed in his chair as he walked to the sink to help with the dishes.
“She a friend?” Aunt May emptied his pasta into a tupperware. Peter’s eyebrows furrowed as he searched for a response.
"I don't really know, actually," He started. “She's always kind of on the sidelines, but never not around. Doesn't have a group she's with.”
“So she’s independent. How, then, do you think she knows?” May looked up at Peter through her glasses. He kept his eyes focused in front of him. He thought about the time she knew what clubs he had quit before anyone else did.
“Michelle is very...attentive. Can know things about someone when that person doesn't know her name. She can put puzzles of lives together like that.” He snapped his fingers for the emphasis.
“Sounds like she has her own superpower," She grabbed a stack of dishes to put away.
Peter thought of the mystery that was Michelle. Her books, always something odd or unfamiliar. The fact that she could read those book with full indication of what is taking place around her. How she finds time to go to detention for her own amusement, or how well she can play off her wardrobe. The fact that no one bothers her, despite the vibe entitled nothing other than ‘loner’ or ‘freak. ’ And yet there something that stood about her that drew the right attention.
“Yeah,” Peter responded. “Maybe.” The air stayed still for a moment or so following. Nothing but the run of the faucet or clang of the dishes and utensils. That is, until, May placed one hand on the rim of the counter, facing Peter. He looked at her before adjusting his stance to face his Aunt, who was now in get ready for a lecture mode; outside hand on her hip, inside foot crossed over the other. Her slight raise of her eyebrow. Yep, he was in for a sundae with whipped cream and a cherry. Maybe some rainbow sprinkles.
“So what are you going to do about it?" Her little shake of her head told him the statement was not rhetorical.
Peter shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno." Her hard gaze told him that was not the correct response. He sighed, threw down his dish towel, and walked around her. “Well, what am I supposed to do? If I ask if she knows, she finds out either way. It'll be the last piece if she didn't put it together. But if she does, there… there's bound to be some blackmail or something involved.” He collapsed into a chair from the table. May’s footsteps followed between Peter's deep breaths.
“So what's that doing that is stopping Spider-Man from saving the neighborhood?" She kneeled in front of him.
"I don't know, I just - what's a good hero if he can't even hide his identity?” Peter put his face into his hands.
“A great one, actually,” May replied after a beat.
“May, now is not the time for false encouragement -”
“No, I know, Peter. This isn't encouragement," She lightly pulled on his arms to silently tell him to look at her. He did. “This is advice. True, based on events, advice.” Peter let out a breath that flopped his hair around his forehead as he looked at his knees. “Every hero faces challenges. Who knows what they are; that's for themselves to fill in those blanks. But you,” Peter found her eyes. "I know you. And your secret. And that your challenge is knowing when to help.
“You are always sneaking out, always racing through the day until it's time for Spider-Man to come out. You aren't enjoying life. And this girl, she is noticing that. She’s finding how you aren't living in the moment but waiting for the next. And add that to your big heart and some who pays attention...that someone will be able to figure it out." She rubbed Peter's knee with her fingertips; something she'd always do when he got anxious. "In order to protect your identity, Peter, you need to pick and choose where to be. There are two-million people in Queens. You can't save all of them. And just because you weren't there, doesn't mean it’s your fault that it didn't turn out well.” Peter gave a slight nod after a lapse.
“What do I do about Michelle?" He asked, his voice raspy.
"It depends. Has she given a reason for you to think she can't be trusted?”
"I mean, we study together a lot...by the number of times I've bailed on her, if anything, it's the other way around.”
“Well then, you think from there. Sounds to me she keeps to herself, though, Peter. If we’re talking about Michelle Jones.” And with that, Aunt May retreated to the kitchen.
--
It was another week until Spider-Man returned back to the streets. Meaning, five days filled with unreadable glances and telling nicknames handed to by MJ-dearest. It put him on edge, more so or not, but he learned that living like he did before the radioactive-spider event would be the best bet at hiding.
But the seventh night was met with boredom; Peter was rearranging his figures when q scream ran through his ears.
Of course, if it was heard from Peter's window, it must've been close. And in that effect, it would be his fault if there was a deficient outcome. He found himself in the suit that night. Turns out the scream was from a woman who was being dragged into an alleyway by masked figures; after getting her to safety, Peter’s patrol sense tingled, full from days without being put to use. And so the next night he hung out on the roof of his building, ready if anything ensued.
The following, he started moving across different rooftops; traveling to more neighbors. Peter returned to his room to find a plate of cookies waiting for him.
Over the next two weeks, the craving to simply use his powers during the school day slowly started to find its ways back to him. MJ’s comments died down. And the more he thought about it, the whole thing was just paranoia. How would she know, anyway?
After days of traveling through the same neighborhoods, Peter started to want to explore - maybe farther into the city or the suburban areas.
At first, the city was cool. So many high buildings; so many places to attach his web, so much more people. The youtube videos started to increase.
And then, one day, he was in a part of Queens he'd never delve into. But it had wide alleyways which were perfect to simply fool around in between. That is, that's what he thought.
----
Personally, MJ loved her neighborhood. Just two blocks from her family's apartment was a used book store, which was coincidentally next to a cafe. The alleyways were wide enough for her to walk through without looking suspicious, and they were pretty well lit, which was probably the reason for the low crime rate on the main street.
Nevertheless, she saw why people didn't like it. The deteriorating brick walls that she saw as aesthetic may be a problem in another person's eyes; maybe a mom or parent. But once the bricks fall out, there's cement beneath. If it's just for decoration, why fret?
But then , well, maybe they had a point. Although, Spandex-Man flying into a dumpster, a brick latched onto the web not close behind...maybe not exactly.
She wanted to take a short cut. She actually had to run in gym that afternoon, and damn any extra physical exercise after the fact. So instead of going all the way around the block, she went through an alley. Although, how much she started laughing after seeing a blur of blue and red with a cry of ‘ oh shit’ may just make up for it. On the inside. On the outside - she was annoyed as hell.
“Have you been following me? " She hurried over to the dumpster, raging. Looking over, she found a groaning Spandex-Man, his mask slightly ridden up to show a white sliver of his neck. In response, she got a grouse. MJ dropped her hands to her side. Without even thinking, she commanded with a nod of her head, “Get up, Parker.”
Miraculously, it seemed Spandex-Man was no longer in pain. He looked at her - or those creepy eyes did, anyway, and started to shake his head.
“No, no, I uh -" He started to stand. "I think you have me confused for - with someone…” and then they were face to face; his mask eye things big and her face palpable. “Else.”
“Save your breath, Peter. And get out of that dumpster - it's gross.” A little shaky, he jumped over the rim to land facing her.
“Really, I think you're totally in the wrong head right now. You see, I don't even know a Peter -”
“God, do you ever shut up? ”
“Maybe your friend Peter does, but I - I don-” MJ grabbed the rim of his mask and pulled it over his head -surprisingly easily.
Underneath was surely Peter, looking all out-of-sorts overall. His hair tasseled, ears pink, the surprise and terror mixed with his countenance and glazed eyes.
"If you don't want that to happen any more than this time, I'd suggest some adhesive or something," She duly suggested. Peter looked at her - searched her face.
“MJ… this is… this is not what it looks like,” Peter exclaimed. “Like, at all.”
Michelle showed an amused smile at the act. “Peter, I know. Already knew." She could've sworn he got pale with disappointment.
“B - but how?" She let single laugh go through her body, but it didn’t escape.
"I mean, just the obvious. But the videos just proved it," She shrugged.
“The videos? You mean, you knew by youtube?”
“Well no, doofus. I don't waste my time watching that bullshit. But anyone who was as logically inclined as me would easily be able to, anyway." She rolled her eyes. Across from her, although now more confused than surprised, still held fright. "I mean from your laptop.” And then his eyebrows closed together.
“My laptop?!” Annoyance lined his voice now. “You hacked my laptop?!”
“Well, it was unlocked -”
"It doesn't matter! Don’t look through other people's stuff!”
“Do you think I wanted to?" She replied, a little vexed now, looking back to the night where she put in time trying to figure out who left their laptop irresponsibly. “Trust me, having to go through your laptop because you were so irresponsible to not only not put a name on your computer but forget it was not how I was planning my Monday night. It was your fault that I had to search through your ‘forbidden videos’ for identification!” at that, Peter ran a hand over his face. He remembered.
“Look, I'm sorry,” Michelle crossed her arms. "I forgot all about forgetting my laptop at the meeting.”
“Well," She started, her arms melting from their crossed position. “At least they were amusing. I didn't think it was humanly possible for you to get dorkier than you are in school.”
Peter smiled, a chuckle leaving him. “Well, I am not technically human. Yanno," He gestured to the stupid spandex - Michelle almost rolled her eyes. “Man-spider...thing. May leave some room.” Although it was the cockiest thing she’d ever heard him say, MJ smiled. She thought about something while looking at him -
“Do you really call your dad, Happy? ” Peter started to bite his cheek to hide the smile.
“Nah, he's my… supervisor, I guess. But not my dad.”
“Mm,” Michelle responded.
“Hey, but -” Peter's jaw clenched, and suddenly it looked like they were back to a serious aspect. “Do you think you can - you know… not tell anyone?” Michelle lowered her brows, swiping a fallen hair to the back of her head. “This...thing is kinda only between Mr. Stark, Happy, Ned and Aunt May...and half of those people aren't even supposed to know, either - can it stay that way?”
“Parker, I can't forget what I saw or notice -”
“No, no," He laughed at her fake confusion. “Just - can you not tell anyone? Keep it - to yourself?" She stared at him hard - mostly to freak him out, pretending to make up her mind.
“Alright." She nodded. "I guess that can work, yeah.”
“ Thank you ." He left out a breath of relief. “You have no idea how paranoid I was, thinking you knew, how you knew -”
“Pete," She started. "I was only messing with you. If there was a reason no one knew, it wouldn't be cool to go around telling people.”
Peter looked at MJ for a second. She handed him back his mask. “Thank you, again, MJ. I just don't want this to happen again -”
“You know it will, Peter." He looked at her in confusion. “There are seven billion people in this world. Eventually, more than five people will figure it out that Spandex-Man isn't just Spandex-Man.”
"I - I’m sorry, Spandex-Man? ” MJ smiled.
“Suits it better, in my taste.” They both laughed, maybe Peter more than the girl across from him, but that's okay. “Anyways, you just need to be more careful this time around.”
“As opposed to...what other times, exactly?”
“Well, Parker, you see; no one has enough common sense to figure this out beside me. So starting now, you're a blank slate. Everyone who was suspicious knows. So you try again. This time, more careful.”
“How do I start being more careful, then?” His smirk and playful tone told her something. She started taking steps back.
“Start,” as he realized she had started to walk away, Peter began to prep his mask to be re-applied. “By putting your name on things, Peter Parker.” and then she turned around, only to hear the sound the web made as it attached to a nearby wall. A flash of red and blue swung in front of her, disappearing around the corner, presumably onto a rooftop. She could picture Peter Parker's face perfectly now; his ears leaving a dent on each side, his nose, in which the mask perfect curved over, his smile against the fabric, the same one that reached his eyes every day. MJ mirrored the picture conjured in her unique head, the echo of her shoes splashed in the puddles beneath her, and grinned.