Chapter Text
Stars Pt 3
Michelle flipped over another page of her book. The slight whispering of the page was the only sound in her room besides a small electric fan beside her. She’d managed to get halfway through Things Fall Apart in a few short hours. The intricacies of African culture pulled her into the pages early on. Sitting on crumpled white sheets atop her bed, head resting against the coarse brick exterior wall in her room, Michelle flipped over another page. With eyes flying across the pages, she thought about how much of African culture has been destroyed. The title indeed fit the book; things do fall apart, often, it would seem.
Dog-earing her page, Michelle took a sip of her long-forgotten tea. It was cold and bitter on her lips. Abandoned when she sunk into her book. Michelle made a note to make a new cup. When she picked the book up again, her eyes started tracing back over the pages until her phone vibrated against her leg. Placing her book down again, she used her good hand to pick up her phone. The message was from Peter.
Peter Parker (8:57 pm): can i come over?
Embers ran down her throat, stoking the small fire in her chest. The fire pulsed, each beat larger than the next. It echoed in the battered knuckles of her fist.
Michelle left Peter standing in the abandoned physics classroom this morning. Unable to release any words or explanations, she merely retreated to safety. Safety she found with a book in her hands, tucked away in her bedroom, and wishing she could disguise herself in a flash of sarcastic remarks and cool stares.
Michelle pored over the text a few times, her mind spinning. She didn’t know how to reply. If he just wanted to assault her with more questions, she’d rather sink further into her book.
You (9:01 pm): if you’re looking for your hobbit box set i didn’t take it because the movies sucked and the book was better.
Peter Parker (9:02 pm): what? no…i haven’t even mentioned that to you how the hell do you know about it
You (9:02 pm): I’m omniscient, Parker, I know all.
Peter Parker (9:03 pm): then youd know why i’m coming over. which would suck since it’s a surprise…
She stared down at her phone. Michelle wasn’t sure what Peter’s angle was. After a few minutes without her reply, another message popped up.
Peter Parker (9:06 pm): soooo…can I come over? promise not to annoy you
Grunting, Michelle tucked her legs closer to her body. Her interest had piqued. Besides, she thought, maybe it would be a good opportunity to shrink the gap expanding between them. Glancing out her window at the inky sky, Michelle decided on a reply that was neither an invitation nor denial.
You (9:08 pm): You annoy me regardless.
Peter Parker (9:08 pm): i’ll take that as a yes?
You (9:09 pm): Shut up and just come over, loser.
Peter Parker (9:10 pm): thank you! youre not gonna regret it!
Peter Parker (9:10 pm): be right there :)
Michelle glared down at her screen blaring harsh blue light back at her. She had no idea what Peter was planning, and she was frankly starting to wonder if she wanted to.
It would take him a few minutes to get to her house if May drove him, but he could easily walk, which could take as long as fifteen minutes. Michelle flopped back onto her bed, resisting the urge to go fix her hair, or change out of her pajamas. Peter had seen her at her literal worst, and if he hadn’t been chased away by now, a few snarls in her hair and some tattered pajamas wouldn’t make a difference. Besides, she wouldn’t try to make herself look nice for Ned, so why should she do it for Peter?
The thought of prom popped into her head. She clucked at the thought, telling herself that was different. If she wanted to get made up for prom she damn well could, because she wanted to. But right now, she didn’t give a shit. Maybe a little less than a shit, but still it wasn’t enough to make her do more than smooth out her pajama pants and throw on a hoodie to hide her braless chest.
Michelle was running her fingers through some of her worst snarls of hair when she heard a tap on the window, right beside her ear.
She wasn’t one to frighten easily, but she catapulted away from the window, her nerves buzzing.
Michelle’s apartment was on the fifth floor of her building, so getting random taps on her window was abnormal. A bird once flew into her window, but that had the sound of a sickening smack, very different from light tapping. She attempted to calm the rushing pressure pounding in her skull while she tried to see what had caused the noise. Her reading lamp cast only crude shadows outside. Whatever tapped her window was hanging upside down on the opposite side of the glass. It was too massive to be a bird.
Giant eyes glinted in the light of her lamp. The body looked blood-red. “What the fu—” More tapping. It pressed its face against the glass and that was when Michelle realized what it was. Or who.
It was none-other than Spider-Man. She had a hunch why Queen's resident superhero was currently tapping on her window. It was a suspicion she had for a while, but all she ever had in support was circumstantial evidence.
Spider-Man tapped again. It sounded like a finger tapping on a terrarium. Unsettling. Flipping upright, Spider-Man looked at her properly. “Is there a reason why you're tapping on my window?” She spoke loud enough that it would carry through the glass. Standing, she placed distance between herself and the window.
“MJ, it’s me.”
She stopped on her toes, tilting towards the muffled words a fraction. Her balance tipped, forcing her to take a step forward. Michelle’s knee knocked against her mattress. It buckled and gave way until she was back on her sheets.
The eyes on Spider-Man’s suit twitched. Something floated down her spine, exploding into a barrage of light and fire that took hold of her like flames on flash paper. Michelle felt it take over her the same way the reveal at the end of a book took hold of her system. It clicked and everything crashed into place. “Holy shit. I knew it!” Michelle yanked open her window, letting the masked hero slide into her room. His arm brushed against her as he smoothly bounced from her bed onto the floor. He pulled the mask from his head.
Under the mask, Peter Parker emerged. His hair stuck about at odd angles and his cheeks were flushed the slightest color of pink. Michelle hated to think it, but he looked damn good in that skin-tight suit. She sighed, looking away from him to take another chilling sip of her tea.
Trying to seem unaffected by his silent stare was harder than usual.
“So, you’re the one that’s been swinging around in pajamas.” Another sip. It was uncomfortable going down, cooling the flames licking at her ribs. Michelle focused on the smooth ceramic of the mug in her hands instead. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”
Peter fiddled with the mask in his hands, tugging the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. “I, uh—I’ve been thinking about telling you for a long time, but I just couldn’t bring myself to. I don’t really know why.” Peter looked down. “But now—”
The air between them swelled, wrapping suffocating hands around Michelle’s neck. Why would he be telling her this now? There was a devastating realization that maybe Peter thought this would get her to open up. Now that he’s shown her his cards, he would want to see hers.
A tear was breaking through her, right through her center. She was stuck on the growing crack, wondering where she might fall.
Michelle could plummet back to familiar ground. Where she buried so many emotions it was a graveyard for every broken piece of her. She could always tip to the other side. Into woods where she could pave pathways that would deliver the words writhing inside her out of the trees, and into the light. And, there was always the third option. If she fought to keep the earth inside her from splitting open, she could collapse into a chasm she had no way of escaping.
The earth was breaking, crumbling, and she still didn’t know which way to fall.
“Why are you telling me about this now?” It was a standoff. The defining moment. She could see so much swirling in Peter’s eyes. The flutter of his lashes showed a similar rift dividing him.
Peter leveled his eyes with hers. The intensity of his gaze swallowed her, sent crackling flames slithering over her arms, up her legs. Everywhere. His gaze was hollowing her out in the best way possible. He stepped toward her, one-foot fall after another. The fire was eating away all her oxygen. Michelle couldn’t possibly breathe. The air had been licked dry of her lungs. He was right there. They were stars orbiting each other once again. As if that space between them had shrunk in only the span of a breath. “I want to show you something.”
“You already showed me something. I’d say that whole Spider-Man reveal was a pretty big something.” Michelle crossed her arms, putting distance between them, until she realized Peter wasn’t even in arms reach. He felt so much closer.
Peter chuckled. Tension diffused from his shoulders and Michelle pictured it floating away like smoke. “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t give you more of a warning. It looked like I freaked you out.”
Michelle snatched the mask from his hands, hiding her embarrassment. “What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t freak out.” She held his mask up to the light. The stitching was incredible, and its milky eyes looked like camera lenses. Michelle flipped it over to peer inside. It looked like a regular mask. What she really wanted to know was how the eyes moved—and if there was a screen or on-board dash—how it was powered. She was just about to slip her head inside when Peter lifted it from her grip.
“You kinda freaked out.” He was smiling like an idiot and Michelle snatched the mask back. She did nothing but hold it, but she felt like it proved something.
“I didn’t freak out, nerd.” She tossed the mask up in the air and caught it before Peter could take it back. Running her fingers across the glassy eyes, she remembered DC; when he’d raced up the Washington Monument. She remembered the odd urgency to his voice; how it was muffled through the fabric. News feeds flashed through her mind. She’d seen this mask millions of times, yet now it changed. Now looking at it, all she pictured was Peter with his boyish grin and understanding gaze.
When she looked up Peter’s eyes were scouring her face. She wasn’t sure what he was hoping to find written on the surface of her skin. His gaze lingered on her cheeks, the corners of her eyes, the place where her hair kissed her forehead. The way it penetrated her already fragile mask made her uncomfortable. “So,” Effectively cutting the spell between them, Michelle threw Peter’s mask back across the short distance between their bodies. He caught it with ease. “What do you want?”
“Well,” Peter said, his fingers tracing the same stitches Michelle traced moments before. She averted her eyes, somehow feeling the moment to intimate to share with him. “I got to thinking about today and—If I’m crossing a line here, you can tell me,”
“I always do, don’t I?” The banter helped keep Michelle focused on reality, instead of the soft edges of his eyes or the agile curves of his fingers.
Chuckling, Peter squeezed the mask in his hands. He twisted the fabric, ringing out non-existent water. “Yeah, you do.” He cleared his throat, expelling nerves. “But what I’m trying to get at I suppose is—well, uh. When you were talking earlier today and said you wanted to escape and stuff. It, um—it really got me thinking, basically, that maybe I could help. And you’d mentioned stargazing, and I got this idea. And I thought, maybe—I don’t know. I thought, maybe, if you wanted, I could help you escape for a few hours. No strings attached. I mean we don’t even have to talk… If you don’t want to.” After a cumbersome sentence, and the constant avoidance of any visual contact, he finally looked her in the eye once more.
She hated how endearing he was. She hated he’d managed to chip away her walls to the point the thought of keeping everything from him seemed impossible. She hated everything about him, but it was coursing through her veins in the most intoxicating, beautiful way. She wondered for a moment if that was what love felt like. God, how much she wanted to scream at his persistence, yet the warmth of his selflessness melted and filled her at the same time. Looking at him—eyes warm, a soothing balm to her fiery soul—she thought, this must be what love feels like…
“MJ,” Her name floated in his voice, into her ears. The beautiful raspy sound was alcohol to her bloodstream. It enveloped her in light-headed warmth. She couldn’t focus on anything but him. Peter deserved so much more than her. He’d found so much more than Michelle ever could be. He found it in Gwen.
Michelle blinked, breaking her of her trance.
Looking at Peter was like gazing into the sun. The threat of falling hopelessly into him terrified her. If she fell, she’d be eaten by a disastrous fire before she even reached the surface. She fell back against her bed, not trusting the slight wobble of her knees. “MJ, did you hear me?” Peter asked, advancing the smallest bit toward her.
It took every fiber of her resolve, but she forced her face back into the cool mask. “Yeah I heard you,” She leveled her gaze at him, exuding a sense of calm indifference. Still, there was a pounding in her chest that screamed for help. Michelle cleared her throat, smirking. “You want to take me to some mystery place to ‘cheer me up’.”
Peter’s mouth jumped open, ready to disagree, because since when did MJ need cheering up? But he snapped his jaw shut as soon as she smacked him with a hearty glare. A laugh brushed past his lips. “Well, yeah.” He paused. “But the thing is—well, you need it. Not to say you need me—I mean…God—I just thought maybe you’d be interested in it, and now I realize I’m being stupid. I’m really sorry. I just thought that maybe—”
His words cut off when Michelle wrapped her fingers around Peter’s wrist. She had to tell herself fire didn’t exist just so she could ignore the delightful burn under all five of her fingers. “I’m in.”
“Really, you’ll go?” His smile faltered. It was nothing more than a flicker in his eye. Michelle saw it as the nervous smile it was. “Do you—I mean—well. Is it okay if I go with you?” His gloved fingers twisted around his mask once more, twisting a knot into Michelle’s gut.
The answer came easier than it should. It came a welcome rain to the desert floor. “Yes." Shrugging, she feigned aloofness. "Besides I have no idea where it is.”
“Right.” Peter stepped up to her, his arms reaching out for her. Until they stopped. They deflated, awkward, to his sides. Words tumbled from his lips. Michelle barely managed to catch the sentence; he spoke so fast. “Um, is-is it okay to, um, pick you up? I mean, it’s just...” He paused. Raked a hand through his already mused hair. The action managed to tame most of the strands, laying them back away from his face. “Do you trust me? Because I don’t know how to explain it.” He put his hand out, an invitation. Peter’s gravity was yanking at Michelle’s stomach.
Making show, so not to focus on the heat at the tip of her ribs, Michelle slapped her hand into Peter’s palm. “What is this? Aladdin? God, you’re so dramatic.” She may have imagined the way his thumb, covered in leather and cotton, swept along the back of her hand. Michelle told herself that his index finger had no ulterior motives when it kissed the tendon on the inside of her wrist.
Peter smirked, but she caught it out of the corner of her eye before he was stepping up to her and pulling her towards the open window. “You know me. Always one for the dramatics.”
If she was thinking, a snarky retort would have slithered out past her lips. But that didn’t happen because Peter stood on the ledge of the window and dragged her closer. It knocked the breath out of her. Each step was a kick to the gut. Fear was a winding serpent, squeezing her throat closed. When Peter let her go to put on his mask, she found herself reeling a few steps back. The eyes of the mask narrowed in her direction and Peter’s head tilted to the side. “What’s wrong?”
“Is there a reason why we have to jump out of my window?”
Peter stepped back into the room, his foot making a mark on her sheets. Michelle shot him a look and he stepped back over the sill. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s either that or walk all the way downstairs, and then just climb back up another building.”
“And why are we climbing so much?” Michelle forced her eyes to harden, masking the anxiety writhing within her.
Peter’s head tilted from side to side, deciding if he should let her in on the little surprise. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Not with me.” Maybe he had that dorky, sweet smile beneath the mask. She would never know, but she liked to think he did. “I promise.” His voice came muffled through the mask, yet it pierced through Michelle. She swore his words rushed right through the space between her fifth and sixth ribs. They lodged somewhere in the flesh beyond. She could feel them, and if she gasped in just the right way, they pushed up against her heart.
This time she took his offered hand softer, gliding her fingers into his palm. For a moment, she couldn’t distinguish if there was fabric between their skin.
Peter pulled her up on the bed. She wasn’t wearing shoes, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t need them.
“I’m gonna wrap my arm around you, so don’t hit me or anything.”
He was taller than her for this one moment, and the way his head ducked minutely closer to her ear sent shivers down her arms. “No promises.”
The solid weight of Peter's arm drifted around her waist. Once he trailed his hands around her waist's circumstance, he latched her against his body. Firm, strong... She felt every inch of his chest along her own. Michelle’s toes lifted from the bed, skimmed the edge of her windowsill, then there was nothing but air and Peter. Her arms, which wound loose around his neck, squeezed tight enough to cause a grunt. “MJ,” Peter sounded strangled, so she forced herself to let up. “MJ,”
“What?” From the spot in Peter’s neck where she buried her face, her voice wafted into the wind.
"Choking. Not breathing." He rasped; she allowed her arms to relax until she had just a firm hold around his neck.
"Sorry."
Hearing something smacking against the wall, she dared to look around. Peter had strung up a web against the wall of her apartment. She could see small strands of it glistening in the light, leading back to Peter’s hand. She tried to disassociate with the fact she was dangling off the side of a building by stating, “That’s some crazy chemistry, Parker.”
“Yeah, I know.” Michelle felt Peter’s chuckle in her chest, felt the rush of air pass through the mask onto her neck as he leaned back against the strand. Her entire body fell against his. The solid warmth of him pushed against her chest. She was mesmerized by the way he’d exhale just as she’d inhale. It was pure harmony. Like the way the sun kissed the horizon goodbye and the moon kissed it hello.
They were at a forty-five-degree angle when Peter turned his head, his chin trailing across her forehead. “I’m gonna let go for a minute, okay?”
The delusional world of touch and sound faded away into crushing anxiety winding back around her chest. Her arms squeezed him ever tighter. “What?”
“I’m just gonna close the window. You just need to lean into me, and you’ll be fine. You know, because of gravity and all.” She swore she could feel his smirk through the mask against her right brow. “It’s basic science, MJ. I thought you’d have known that.”
She’d smack him if she wasn’t dangling five stories in the air with nothing between her and death except a teenage boy. “You’re such a dick sometimes.”
The muscles in Peter’s chest stretched as his arm strained to pull her window shut. Every detailed movement of his arm translated into Michelle. She felt the flex and elongation of his shoulders under her arms.
“A nice dick, though.” Peter exhaled across her neck. It sparked little fires on her skin. When he inhaled it left a breathless vacuum.
It took approximately three exhales for Michelle to think up a proper thing to say. “I’m sure the girls fall all over that.” Michelle tilted her lips towards the faint outline of Peter’s ears. She brushed the fabric with each whispered word. “Hi, I’m Peter Parker and I’m a very nice dick.”
A shiver passed through Peter. He slipped a few inches, causing his body to turn ridged against Michelle’s. She felt her heart drop into the acid of her stomach. Peter yanked her impossibly closer. Her arms tightened around his neck, his pulse racing against her own. “J-Jesus, MJ. You can’t say things like that.”
Not factoring in the actuality that she could have just died, Michelle smirked against the tough fibers covering Peter’s neck. “I say things like that all the time.” She was breathless; her lungs starved of oxygen.
The slap of her window closing delayed Peter’s retort. As he began pulling them into an upright position, he finally grunted out a response. “You know, I could let you fall right now. I have that power.” Michelle felt her body sliding down Peter's as he pulled them upright.
Gravity was daunting as Peter’s weight shifted from beneath her. “Such a charmer. You tell all the girls that?” She allowed sarcasm to soothe her.
“Shut up.”
She heaved a breathy laugh as her arms flexed around his shoulders. The more they straightened the more her feet found a perch atop his. Her back kissed the wall. Peter stuck to it as his moniker implied. He was Spider-Man after all. Michelle would have to ask about how he stuck to flat surfaces later; because right now she could only focus on a few things at a time. At the current moment, it was the utter fear gripping her system. And then it was the way Peter’s nose bumped into her chin. She was at least three inches taller than him with her feet resting atop his.
The pull of gravity itched to yank her away from Peter, yet his arm seemed unbreakable around her waist.
There was something different about when someone was the ground beneath you, and the stars above you. His arm reached above her, his hand holding them against the wall, He was no more than a breath away. Michelle never felt so completely entangled in another person. She briefly wondered if Peter felt the same, even though she knew he didn’t. Not in the way she wanted him to.
Peter swung around Michelle, positioning himself in a makeshift squat against the wall. Michelle sat on his bent legs.
He pulled something out from a pocket in his suit that was virtually invisible. It looked like it was a rope woven from web. Careful not to let her go with his other arm, he hung the rope around his neck, before his free hand slapped back to the wall. “Just in case, thread that around my waist and around yours.”
Michelle laughed. “You know, people use full harnesses for rock climbing? If I fall, tying this around my waist isn’t gonna do shit.”
“It’s a work in progress. Jesus, why are you so difficult?”
Regardless of how absurd it was, she leaned into his bent legs, loosening her arms from his neck. She picked the rope up. It felt oddly cold, but it was more so the texture that made it feel that way. The elasticity and strength of the stand was astonishing. She threaded it around their bodies, careful of Peter’s hand wrapped around her, and tied it in a figure eight knot.
And then, they were ready.
It took them ten minutes of swinging to get to Peter’s mystery location. Michelle swore she’d jump off a building before she let Peter swing her around Queens again.
He was now scaling the side of a building, slower than she was sure he could go, but then he was only using one hand. Michelle kept Peter in a bear hug, her legs wrapped tight around his waist. After they passed the tenth floor, she glued her eyes shut to keep from throwing up. Peter was trying to keep her talking. He could probably feel the thundering of her heart against his chest and knew she was scared out of her mind. If there weren’t more pressing things to worry about, Michelle would be embarrassed by how typical she was acting. Shouldn’t she be able to dangle fifteen stories in the air and be completely neutral about it?
She forced her eyes open, convincing herself that she was being ridiculous. If she was on the other side of the glass, looking down from the interior of the building, she would be fine. Now, seeing the shrunken effect on cars and the few people mulling about below, Michelle felt a new wave of nausea and promptly shut her eyes again.
Peter was babbling on about something, she could hear snippets of Star Wars, and how The Last Jedi wasn’t that bad after he watched it again. A particularly nippy gust of wind washed through her hair, smacking into her body, Michelle shivered through her teeth, “Peter, this is not the time to nerd out on me.”
“Are you cold?”
“What was the first clue?”
Peter huffed, pulling them both up another floor. “You know, I drag you up her with your boney hips and I don’t even get a thank you. Frankly I’m shocked. Your manners are appalling.” He said it with a quiver of laughter in his voice.
“First of all, I was fine sitting at home, you begged me to come. Secondly, you can shut the hell up about my boney hips because literally you’ve got the boniest everything ever, so suck it up.” Michelle looked up to the sky because it was better than gazing at the distance between her feet and the unforgiving pavement beneath. She was pretty sure they were at the top of the building Peter had scaled for the better part of thirty minutes.
Peter hauled them both onto the flat surface of the roof. It took some work for him to pull them up as a unified pair.
His foot slipped against the gothic trimming of the building, causing him to crash into Michelle. The force knocked her off kilter. Gravel bit into her back. Peter fell on top of her, flopping on her chest and panting with anxiety. “Sorry. I slipped, but it’s okay. We’re okay… Are you okay?” He yanked the mask off, his breath washing across her cheeks, prickling her neck. His weight was still pushing into her. He asked his question again when she didn’t answer. His face was close. It’d been this close before, but this felt different. “MJ, are you okay?” It was a whisper, at least that’s what it felt like. Whispering always felt so intimate.
Gulping down the burn aching in her throat, Michelle shoved him away to save from doing something stupid. “Yeah I’m great. I really loved the part where we almost died.”
Peter laughed. He rolled from her and stored his mask in his backpack. “We didn’t almost die.”
“So, swinging around Queens and scaling buildings with crazy superpowers that make no scientific sense is completely safe? My life was in danger, Parker.”
Eyes rolled in his head, a smirk twitched on his face “For someone who seems so chill, you really are a drama queen.”
With a sly grin, Michelle started to pull herself to her feet. This banter was the most normal her and Peter had been in weeks. “I couldn’t possibly take Her Majesty's crown away from her.” Rolling to her feet, she slapped Peter twice on the shoulder. Her pointed look conveyed what her words didn’t.
Peter pulled back, placing a hand to his heart. “You can’t possibly mean me?”
“Seeing how you’re the one who wears red and blue pajamas while saving the city, I’d say yes.” The gravel was biting into her feet, poking her heels and toes with jagged edges. Without thinking, her weight shifted from foot to foot, trying to find a comfortable position. “What did you want to show me anyways, loser?”
Perking up, Peter slung his backpack from his shoulder to the ground. He reached into the mouth of it, searching for something until his face shifted into delight. He pulled a cube, matte black with glowing blue edges, from the bag.
Peter handed her the cube and she explored the surface with prying fingers. Smooth metal, cool to the touch greeted her fingertips. The neon blue lights flickered when her fingers brushed against them. “What is it?”
Peter took it from her palm. His eyes flickered over her injured hand and she knew he wanted to ask how she was doing. Instead he reverted his attention back to the cube. Fast as lightning, but Michelle picked up on it.
“Come on, I’ll show you.” He slung his backpack onto one shoulder and hopped away from her. Grinning wide, he was already halfway across the roof. He hunched over something that looked like blankets. He set the cube down as Michelle started to make her way across the gravel. She should have put shoes on. Every step lodged jagged rocks into the pads of her feet. She took her steps light and slow.
Once she managed her way to Peter and came up beside him, she saw blankets laid out over the center of the roof, taking up a good radius of space. Michelle stepped behind him and onto the layers of blankets. He was crouched down over the cube he’d been showing to her. He set it up around the fringe of the blankets. She noticed there were three more set up around the perimeter just like it. “What's—” she began to ask, until she realized Peter had his phone pressed against his cheek.
“Mr. Stark,” With Peter’s back turned toward her, he spoke hushed into the phone. She stared at the spider graphic sprawled across his shoulder blades. Peter continued on, “Well I just figured—no! I mean, yes. I know I shouldn’t have—but it was right there and—What? No, she isn’t. Oh my God, please stop. Mr. Stark, can you please just—? She isn’t my girlfriend. I’m just trying to be a good friend. Please can you stop asking me about—Oh my God.” Peter’s head dropped low enough that Michelle could see only his neck.
He was listening intent to Tony Stark on the other line, and Michelle couldn’t resist messing with him. Padding over, she placed her lips close enough to his ear that her voice could fill them completely. “What’cha doin’, Spidey?”
He shot into the air. Literally, Peter went about three feet in the air. “MJ!” he screeched. The phone was still tight in his fist. “Jesus! You scared the shit out of me.”
She shrugged, feigning innocence, and plopped down on the blankets. Peter must have layered them up because she couldn’t feel the gravel beneath her. “You didn’t happen to steal this tech from Tony Stark, did you?”
Peter yelped and covered the receiver of his phone. “I borrowed it!”
“Typical white person response.” Laying back, Michelle turned her face toward the sky. There was always the impenetrable glow of the city below. No stars, only light slung up into the heavens. It was the vast nothingness she accepted.
“How is that a—" Peter shot her a dirty look. His face always looked too much like a puppy to take him seriously. “Nevermind.” He spoke a few more hushed words into the receiver Michelle couldn’t make out. Not that she was trying to eavesdrop. She was naturally curious. All she managed to hear was an elated, “Thank you so much, Mr. Stark!” before Peter hung up the phone. He kneeled next to one of the cubes around the blankets and fidgeted with it. In the darkness Michelle could only see the flash of his fingers over blue light before the washed-out sky above her dissolved into a clear view of the stars.
Bolting up, Michelle’s eyes roamed over the dome now above her. Black around the edges, fading into a glittered peak. She curled her fingers through the flicker of the dome. The glowing pricks above her head dimmed as her hand moved through them. “Is this a hologram?”
Peter’s weight dropped beside her and he brought a blanket over their legs. His arm brushed hers. “Sort of. Mr. Stark created it to keep an eye on the sky after everything that’s happened. But living in light polluted areas he couldn’t just go stargazing. I thought he’d have like a giant observatory, but he doesn’t. Well, I don’t think he does…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. If he does, I don’t think he uses it. Either way, he started looking into creating a mini observatory that he could carry with him. It uses holotech to create a filter for light pollution, and since it creates a dome over the viewer, the micro telescope can filter everything out. Then, if you want, you can zoom, and the dome will project the magnified image. Watch.” With a proud smile, Peter swept his hands in front of the dome. His actions caused the sky to zoom inwards until Michelle was looking directly into the Milky Way. There were so many more stars above her than she had ever seen. Inhaling deeply, the pure sight of the sky filled her.
“Pretty cool, huh?” Peter asked, glancing at her for approval.
Michelle, with her eyes brimming in stars and her vision a typhoon of galaxies, smiled and nodded. “I’ve never seen so many stars. This is incredible.” Her breath hitched when she glanced away enough to look at Peter. All nose and eyebrows from the side. His lips a thin line per usual. “Thank you.” It was no more than a whisper.
Peter met her eyes. Only half of his face was visible in the reduced light, but Michelle could see the tender smile across his face. “You’re welcome.”
The realization that she’d been treating her entire team and best friends as punching bags because of her own personal insecurities struck her. The thought of her father bubbled up, knowing that was how he dealt with his issues. She couldn’t bear to look at Peter with the thought and turned her face away. Clearing his throat, Peter also turned his face back to the sky.
“So, if you want, I can show you how to work this. It's pretty easy. I'm sure you can figure it out yourself.... but just in case.” He made no assumptions and didn’t instantly begin explaining.
“You can just do it. I’d rather sit back and enjoy.”
“You sure?”
Nodding, Michelle adjusted to a more comfortable position. She inadvertently brushed against Peter’s arm and stayed with her skin pressed against his warmth.
Peter began zooming in on constellations. Text appeared next to the stars providing the information that Peter would ask for aloud. Michelle began asking questions too. The experience was incredible. They looked at the crater marked surface of the Moon in detail Michelle could barely believe. Peter was able to find the sea of Tranquility without the AI’s help. When they turned their focus to Mars, Michelle then pointed out Olympus Mons. The detail was crystal clear. It was raw, celestial beauty.
Being in their own world, with the filtered dome overhead, Michelle couldn’t help feeling a surge of fire in her stomach. Rolling against her ribs and licking lower into her abdomen. She could feel the gratitude crashing over her. The wave of gratitude gave way to purity. A sense that she’d been stripped of her barriers. Peter found a way to take away her varnish and find the natural grain under her surface.
Michelle felt the heat of the stars burning over her skin. They both stared at the Milky Way shining over their heads. Peter’s knuckles brushed against hers, and she forced her hand away, assuming it was an accident. The burn coursing over her skin contradicted wildly with the emptiness inside. She’d been decimated in the past weeks. Looking up at those twinkling lights in the sky, she realized many of them may have already met her same fate. “Isn’t it so weird that a lot of these stars could’ve collapsed, burnt out, or exploded eons ago, and we wouldn’t know. A star could’ve exploded yesterday, and we wouldn’t know on Earth until billions of years from now. It’s unnerving, when you think of it.”
Peter gazed at her, caressing the profile of her face with his gentle stare. Invisible burns arched up her cheeks and rounded over her nose under his steady observation. No mockery masked Peter’s face as a closed-mouth smile reached up to crinkle his eyes. “Yeah, that’s crazy,” He trailed his eyes back to the stars, prompting Michelle to bring her attention back to the glitter filled sky. Peter continued his sentence with his face still turned up. “It really makes you think about the power of those balls of gas. Even our Sun distributes heat for millions of miles. All that raw, plasmic energy. All that heat and power. And someday, it'll be gone. It’s crazy that things so powerful in the universe can just be gone one day.” Glancing at Michelle he began to rectify what he said. “Well I mean obviously they don’t just die out of the blue. They decline, or expand, or collapse. So, it’s obvious that the death is coming, but—I mean, you get what I mean.” He paused, “But they sure are pretty to look at right now.”
Words were picking up speed in her thoughts. She thought about the death of stars. Stars which cut such a puncture through space that with her naked eye she gazed at them; trillions of miles away. And one day, they would die.
Inside, she felt a decline. The plasmic core of her universe dropping in temperature by the day. One day, the gravity wouldn’t be enough to keep her together. She’d hurtle through the universe in billions of tiny pieces. She would turn into asteroids that left destruction in their wake. Peter’s words echoed in her mind at that moment. But they sure are pretty to look at right now.
“They’re harmless from all the way down here. But if you get too close to them, they can only cause destruction. You fall into them and you burn.” Her voice was small. The words muttered at a volume reserved for reverent prayers.
Peter turned his face away from the sky and back to focus on her. “MJ?” Some questions need not be asked. Knowing what Peter would gather from her dreary comment, Michelle knew the question he was asking with just her name. He wanted to understand.
With a heavy sigh she closed her eyes and counted to five. It was the same as jumping from a cliff into the waters below. The countdown until launch. “I feel like I blew up in every meaning of the word except physically.” Swallowing, Michelle continued beyond the grip of her insecurities wrapping around her throat. They coiled in her lungs. “There’s all of this stuff that I don’t like to think about, about my past. I’ve been thinking about it so much recently.” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “It all stems to my damn father. I have so many insecurities because of what he did to my mom and me. I’ve spent my entire life trying to distance myself from him, but there’s this part inside that just feels so disgustingly like him. Like he’s passed on being a shitty human to me.” She could feel Peter’s intent gaze.
Another swallow. Deep breath. “He’d beat my mother, and I was ‘always the cause of everything’.” Sarcasm bit her tone, a sharp bark to her words. “We weren’t enough for him. Not that I give a shit about that, because he didn’t deserve my mom. But he tried to solve all his problems with anger. I felt like it was my fault, I guess and so I just started building these walls. I looked into his eyes the night they took him to prison and told myself I’d never be like him. I never wanted to be someone I wasn’t so people might like me. It never worked on my dad, and after trying so hard to change his mind I wasn't interested in changing anyone else's. I just built up those walls so he couldn’t hurt me anymore, so no one would be able to hurt me. And I’m happy with the person I’ve become, because I made myself the way I am….” She swallowed. Pushed the emotions behind her exterior and kept her eyes trained towards the galaxies.
A long silence followed. From the corner of her eye Michelle could tell Peter was listening intently to her. His lips didn’t twitch to fill the void. He waited until she was ready. A minuscule smile flashed on her lips before disappearing into smoke.
“But there’s this feeling that he’s lurking in there somewhere when I get angry or feel like I’m not the person people want me to be. All I can hear is him berating me, and all I can see is what he did to my mother, over and over. The walls I build... I feel like I’m protecting myself as much as everyone else. Because if I’m even a fraction of the person he is, I can’t let that be who I am. And when the walls crumble, I feel that part of myself lash out and it just goes to show he’s part of me. No matter how much I’ve tried to purge him. So much has been falling apart recently. And I’ve had to see that I’m not the—” …person you want…
Michelle cleared her throat, loud and violent to compensate for her near slip up. “I’ve just felt attacked for stupid reasons. Then, because I was mad, I pushed you away and acted out. And because I’ve been spiraling, the decathlon thing happened, then I punched Flash. And now to top it all off my dad wants me to come visit him in prison. And, Jesus, I’m actually thinking of going just to give him a giant, ‘fuck you for fucking up my life!’ But then I think it’s not even worth it because he doesn’t deserve that much.”
Michelle’s eyes stayed miraculously dry, but tremors crawled down her body. Her lip quivered in the slightest as she focused on trying to keep it still. Trying to laugh it off. “I’m not trying to throw a pity party here or play the misogynistic trope of the damsel in emotional distress who’s in need of your rescue.”
Reflections of the stars sparkled in Peter’s eyes. Every point of light highlighted the sincerity that Peter oozed. “That would make me your knight in shining armor.” And he chuckled, light and full of air. The breath of it broke over Michelle’s face.
She chuckled too. Now able to crease her lips into a smile, Michelle replied. “In your dreams.”
Smiling back at her, Peter said. “Yeah,” His eyes flitted down to trace the curve of her jaw. “You don't need a guy to save you.”
“I’d take Spider-Man if I was in a jam.
Peter threw his head back against the blankets with an infectious laugh. “Good to know.” When he turned back to her, that genuine, supporting gaze returned. “But seriously, MJ, you are nothing like your dad. I mean, you’re my best friend, and I like to think I know you. The real you. You could never be like your dad. Not from what you just told me. I think you know that somewhere deep inside. You could tame the sea, MJ. I mean—I’m pretty sure that you are God. I mean,” He blushed ever so slightly. “You’re one of the most badass, caring, mindful, intelligent, beautiful people I know. That may not help at all, because I get insecurities and have bad anxiety. I know that sometimes no matter what people say—I just know that sometimes it doesn’t help. You’re having a hard time right now, but just please remember that I—everyone—Ned, Aunt May, and I, all love you. I love you so much I—” He cleared his throat. “Ned does too. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Much less us. You are Michelle Goddamn Jones. And you, ma’am...” He brushed the knuckle of his index finger down the bridge of her nose. Fire woke in its path. “You are a national treasure.”
“Laying it on pretty thick, huh?” The smile wobbled on her face, but felt firm, her cheeks filled with burning plasma. A tear slipped from the edge of her eye and slid halfway down her cheek before Peter’s thumb caught it.
“Maybe.” As Peter shrugged, he shifted closer to her. His forehead a brush away from her own. In that minuscule void he whispered, “But it’s true.”
Images of her father flashed through her thoughts.
Before Peter showed up at her window, she’d thought of all the things she’d say to her father. The words she’d use to prove that she was nothing like him. That he had no control over her life. She wanted him to know the garbage he was as a father and human. With Peter’s words now swirling around her brain, a bubbling realization took over her.
At some point she’d lost herself in the rubble her father left. Somewhere along the line, she gave too many pieces of herself to the ghosts she chased. There were things she couldn’t control. She sure as hell wouldn't allow anything to control her.
In that moment, with her head pressed against Peter’s, their eyes closed and breath braiding together, Michelle let go of her father. She owed no piece of herself to him. The memories would always hurt, but she wouldn’t waste her time on him.
When Peter’s nose skimmed her own Michelle let the guilt and pain boil away.
She was not a statue carved from stone, unable to bend or move. Stuck in eternity as one person. She was an imposing wave that battered shore, and she was the wave caressing the sand as it tumbled back to the ocean. She would not be imprisoned in her own misconceptions of what she could and couldn't be.
The resinous smell of Peter engulfed her. His cheek was soft as velvet under her lips. In that moment, she realized he was not hers to keep. She knew that all she needed from him was friendship. Anything else beyond his friendship was something she wanted but would not allow herself to need.
“Thank you.” It dripped as honey would from her lips. It was a pure murmur into Peter’s ear. Michelle put to rest the idea that Peter’s glances and smiles meant anything beyond friendship. Regardless of if he would or could love her, it didn't matter. She was not his, and he was not hers. They both belonged to each other only in friendship. She accepted it and let that longing inside diminish to nothing more than a vague ache.
She pulled away from Peter, her lips brushing faint along his skin. As her body created space between them, she began filling the emptiness inside herself.
Finally, she was beginning to feel whole.