Chapter Text
Patrol was the same as always--contrary to what Peter wanted or needed. On nights that Peter just wanted to go home and relax, maybe hang out with Ned, the entire city was losing its mind with crime; on nights like tonight, when Peter wanted a distraction from the constant thrumming in his head that eventually he’ll have to go to sleep, eventually, he’ll have to face his dreams, there wasn’t a crime in sight.
Therapy was helping, maybe. Sometimes he didn’t have nightmares, but Peter knew he wasn’t where he should be.
“It’s getting late, Peter,” Karen’s smooth voice broke through his thoughts.
He knew she was right, but he wasn’t ready. Not yet. Maybe he was never fully ready to see if he’d have a good night or a bad one.
“Nothing on the scanner?”
“No, Peter.” Karen responded, and if the AI could sound exasperated, she’d definitely would be. “There hasn’t been anything on the scanners all night. Also, your curfew is getting closer.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Peter rolled his eyes. Sometimes Karen was the worst nag he could find. “Alright, I’m going home.”
He shot a web, and swung through the air. He let his instincts take over, and Peter truly meant to go home. Really, he did. But sometimes, his body would take him to places that made his heart burn.
Once, instinct had guided him to Ben’s grave, and he’d spent half the night crying, leaning against a headstone that was cold and wet.
Another time, instinct had taken him to Avengers Tower where he’d encountered Tony awake, a glass of single malt in his hand. He hadn’t been too sure why he’d been there, but soon, he fell asleep, calmed by the comforting presence of Tony.
Tonight, his body led him to the window sill of MJ’s room. He knew he shouldn’t have been there. Maybe it was wrong--at the very least creepy . But he couldn’t find it in himself to move away. He could hear her heartbeat, and he wondered what it would sound like if he showed her who he was.
Would it quicken, like war drums, or would it beat like a horse’s galloping hooves.
Would she even be surprised at all?
Peter didn’t know, but--
“Peter, your heart rate is escalating,” Karen interrupted his thoughts. “Should I contact Mr. Stark?”
“No! No, don’t do that, Karen,” Peter looked away from the window. “I’m fine. Just, you know. Standing.”
“Baby Monitor protocol--”
“Oh my god!” Peter groaned. “I thought we disabled that?!”
“You did. Mr. Stark reinstated it with some revisions.”
“Okay, well--”
“It is now past your curfew, Peter. Baby Monitor Protocol dictates that I inform Mr. Stark that you are still outside.”
“Wait--Karen!”
“You have an incoming call from Mr. Stark.”
Peter groaned louder, and shook his head. Before he could tell Karen to ignore the call, Karen had already patched him through. His Parker luck was definitely in fine form tonight.
“Kid,” Tony’s face appeared clear as day. “Why are you not home? It’s definitely a school night.”
“I was on my way home, Mr. Stark.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “According to the Baby Monitor Protocol, you haven’t moved in ten minutes. Wanna try that again?”
“I’m just--” Peter wasn’t sure how to explain what he was doing. “I’m standing.”
“Okay?” Tony’s face scrunched up in confusion and the beginning lines of worry. “Standing where?”
“In front of MJ’s window…” Peter mumbled, ashamed. He knew it sounded strange.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
It was his only truth tonight. He didn’t know why he was there, but he needed to be there. To hear her heartbeat.
“Kid, do you need me to come down there?” Tony’s somber and firm voice cut through everything.
“No. I just,” Peter hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to explain what he didn’t understand. “I just wanted to be near her. Like this. Like who I am, because this is who I really am, y’know? Spiderman is who I always am, but she doesn’t know that. She doesn’t get to know that, and it’s not really fair to her. And--well, it’s not really fair me to either, right? How am I supposed to get to know her, let her get me know me, share , if I don’t get to share the largest part of me? The best part of me.”
Tony was quiet for a moment, but Peter could see the emotions flickering through his face. Finally he said, “Kid, being Spiderman might be the largest part of you, but guaranteed... Peter Parker is the best part of you. Peter Parker is what makes Spiderman so amazing. Super strength and a suit--there are plenty of heroes like that. But there’s only one Peter Parker. And that’s what she sees.”
“Thanks Mr. Stark,” Peter gave a small smile, but it was enough for Tony to feel like his heart was full.
Tony cleared his throat, and hit his chest. “No problem, kid. Now, go home .”
Peter chuckled, and turned away from MJ’s apartment building.
For the next three days Peter found himself on the rooftop across from MJ’s building. Every time he’d arrive he’d swear, and Karen would mention that Mr. Stark wouldn’t approve of his language.
But he couldn’t focus on that because all he could hear was Bruce’s voice in his head.
Do you share things about your lives?
He didn’t understand where the urge was coming from, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore. He knew that Tony thought that just knowing Peter, the teenage boy who loved Star Wars and Lego sets was enough. But it wasn’t.
It couldn’t be.
Not when Peter watched her so intently. Not when MJ seemed to be watching him right back.
There was a heat in the base of his stomach that crawled down his belly when she smiled or bit her lip that was getting harder to ignore.
“Peter, you have an incoming call from--”
“Ignore it.”
Peter snapped as he finally, finally jumped the distance from the fire escape across the alley, to the fire escape of MJ’s bedroom.
This was a horrible decision. He needed to stop. Go home. Go away, anywhere but here. But MJ was there, bright and beautiful in ridiculous spongebob squarepants pj shorts and a white tee. There she was swaying to music playing on the radio like she was a seductress from another universe.
There was nothing outside of watching her, so fucking close , until she turned.
MJ turned, and her eyes were wide, her lips parted in surprise, her heartbeat beating furiously. It could’ve been fear or excitement or a mixture of both. But it didn’t matter, because he was still outside, the window firmly closed.
They looked at each other through the glass, silent, unmoving, stuck in the space between because they both knew, deep inside of themselves, that whatever happened next would change everything.
MJ took a deep breath, closed the gap between them, and opened the window slowly. Peter slid smoothly through the crack, landing softly in her bedroom, in her space, in her presence that was everything sometimes.
Karen’s voice broke the silence in Peter’s ear. “Peter, Mr. Stark is calling aga--”
“Ignore it,” he said harshly. Suddenly, there was a fire inside of him that spread to the tips of his fingers. He was angry-- furious at Mr. Stark, and he needed to get away from it all. His mask was suffocating, and without thought, he lifted his hand and yanked the mask off.
MJ gasped, and Peter’s eyes were glued to hers. There was nothing except her, finally. He could see her without a filter, hear her without the possibility of Karen’s gentle voice breaking through.
Do you share things about your lives ?
MJ lifted her hand hesitantly and laid it against his chest. It rose and fell to the rhythm of his chest, and Peter closed his eyes. They were still for a moment, letting the gravity of it all sink into them.
But nothing lasts forever; MJ was a flash of lightning cracking against the ground.
“I fucking knew it ” she whispered aggressively. She shoved him back a bit and Peter let her push him. “I fucking knew it ” she repeated as though she was convincing herself. Her glare was on him, fierce, cruel, and everything that Peter had needed all week long.
“I thought I was crazy for thinking--for even suspecting for a second ” MJ grit her teeth, and breathed harshly through her nose. She was a whirlwind of fire, and Peter had no defense. He was hers, whether or not she knew it. He was all hers, and he would fall to his knees awaiting her judgement if that’s what she needed from him.
Shit, he was truly fucked , Peter thought. But there was no going back. Not now that she knew. Not even before, because she was the light.
“ Michelle-- ” Peter tried to plead, but she interrupted.
“No!” she shook her head. “You don’t get to do that--I fucking knew it , but you always seemed to have an answer. Always an excuse about where you rushed off to or where you were, and I thought. Okay. Clearly I’m delusional. I’ve gotta lay off the conspiracy theories. Maybe go to therapy, and talk about the roots of my suspicious nature, and it’s probably a result of living a life with patriarchal standards of hysteria stifling me--”
“You’re not crazy,” Peter whispered. “You never were.”
“...Spiderman went to space...” MJ looked away. Suddenly his gaze was too heavy, and the world was too much. But he couldn’t move. He was there. He was no where near titan. And MJ, she was real, tangible. He reached out a gloved hand, but snatched it back.
Spiderman didn’t get to touch MJ. That was only for Peter. And, fuck, he had issues, but he was getting better. He was trying, and--
Trying matters...trying and failing shapes you, motivates you, makes you better in other unexpected ways...If you try and fail then I’d still be proud of you .
“I’m sorry,” Peter said, but he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for.
“You’re full of shit, Peter,” MJ brought her gaze back to his, and there . He was full and warm and he could feel the world turning to grey around them. Except for her.
“Maybe,” he shrugged. He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t know how to be more without taking the plunge. But, he’d taken a step forward.
Do you share things about your lives ?
He’d shared the biggest part of his life. That mattered too. He was trying.
“Why’d you tell me?” MJ sighed. “You don’t owe me this. We don’t even see each other outside of school really if you don’t count decathlon or school trips. We’re not close--not like you and Ned. Why tell me?”
Peter bridged the small gap between them this time. He wanted her in his space, and never to leave it. He needed her to understand all the things that he could say, and all the things he couldn’t.
Do you share things about your lives ?
Trying matters.
If you try and fail then I’d still be proud of you .
Good to know I’m special.
Never doubt it.
Peter took a deep breath. “I want to be friends with you. Real friends.”
“This is one helluva way to breach the gap, loser,” she said in that gruff MJ way of hers, but it was a signal to him. And Peter was listening. “You could’ve just invited me over for a movie, or something. You know, baby steps.”
“I don’t--” he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration trying to find the words. Peter didn’t know how to put it gently, so after a moment he didn’t bother to try. “I don’t want baby steps. Not with you, okay. Just--you gotta know by now, MJ...You must’ve realized. ”
He felt awkward, and weird. Maybe she hadn’t noticed him flirting. Maybe he’d been doing it wrong this whole time. Maybe she hadn’t--
“You want to be close to me,” MJ said simply, but it was also an echo of the day he’d chased her down and hugged her.
“Yeah,” he sighed in relief. “I want to be close to you. Fuck , closer than Ned. Definitely closer than Ned. Different. Y’know?”
He was fucking this up, he knew, but he was so tired of keeping it all inside. Something had to give, and tonight...tonight what had to give was this. It didn’t matter that he’d let it out in a ridiculously messy and awkward manner.
It was done.
His mask was off. All of the many masks he wore when it came to MJ--they were all gone.
Suddenly, MJ was hugging him. She was hugging him so fucking tight and his frame shook in response; his arms encircled her--crushed her to him, and he shivered when he felt her breath on his ear.
Different. Y’know?
“I know,” MJ whispered, and Peter couldn’t have stopped himself even if he had prepared for a million years for this moment.
“I’m sorry,” he kissed her neck, and MJ gasped. But her hand was in his hair, and she was trembling too. He still didn’t know why he was apologizing, but it was like once he’d started, he couldn’t stop.
He kissed her neck again.
I’m sorry .
Couldn’t stop apologizing.
He kissed her behind her ear.
I’m sorry .
Couldn’t stop wanting her.
He kissed her shoulder--all pointy and sharp, and fuck her skin was smooth .
I’m sorry .
Couldn’t stop dreaming of her.
Peter wanted to let her go, take a step back, take a breath, but MJ was holding him so tight and her body quivering against him was the greatest things he’d ever felt.
“ Michelle ,” he groaned her name against her skin, and fuck if he wasn’t about to--
Oh no. Oh no. NoNoNoNoNo --
He let MJ go as though she was scalding hot water and turned around. He took a deep breath, and clenched his eyes shut.
Every fiber in his being was telling Peter to turn around, to touch her. Just one more touch and he’d find release, but he’d freak the fuck out if he came in his pants in front of MJ just from hugging her close and pressing a few kisses along her neck and shoulder.
He’d never be able to look her in the eyes again.
But this wasn’t some wacky tv show, or teen movie where everyone is innocent and blind. MJ wasn’t stupid or separated from the world of the internet.
He knew that she probably knew why he stopped. Her next words only confirmed his suspicions, and he didn’t know how to feel about it.
“Yeah, loser” she said breathily behind him. “Me too.”
On the one hand it was fucking awesome that she was just as close to losing control, but on the other hand-- what am I supposed to do?
Should he leave? Should he act like nothing happened? This was the part that internet porn didn’t explain. This was the part that movies and tv shows didn’t explain either. No one ever spoke about that in between that was harsh and slightly awkward, but full of promises and apologies left to be said.
“Are we good?” Peter asked quietly without turning.
There was something about the night that begged him to be quiet. There was something about the darkness with the moon shining on them through the window, slightly clouded by New York City’s population. His stomach felt like it was in knots, despite the fact that his fingertips and lips still tingled where they touched her caramel skin that was just as sweet.
“We’re good,” MJ reached for Peter, but he was slipping through the window and jumping over the fire escape before she could touch him or he could desperately ask her to let him stay in the hopes he wouldn’t have any nightmares that night.
The next day was slightly awkward in that every time Peter’s eyes caught MJ’s, they would blush furiously. Finally, Ned had enough of the silent exchanges.
“Dude, what’s your problem?”
“What? I don't have a problem--”
Ned glared. “I may be up to my ears with Betty--”
“Since when are you and Betty a thing?”
“We’re not really. Maybe. I don’t know,” Ned shrugged and the frustration of that was clear in his eyes. “But that’s not the point. The point is that I know I’ve been a bit distracted by her, but that doesn’t mean that I suddenly stop noticing things, y’know? I’m still your guy in the chair.”
“What do you want to know?” Peter sighed.
“Why do you and MJ turn into tomatoes every time you look at each other today? You guys were fine yesterday.”
Peter wanted to tell Ned that it was because he’d confessed his biggest secret; they’d touched each other the night before, and things were too new and they weren’t sure how they should act. But he wasn’t sure how true that was.
Are we good?
We’re good.
That was supposed to clear the air, turn time backward and forward and make everything okay. Or at least he’d thought so.
“I don’t know,” Peter shrugged. He gave all he could handle giving at the moment. “We’re just being idiots, I think. Things are changing between us--kinda like you and Betty.”
“ Dude ,” Ned grinned. “That’s great! Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yeah,” Peter said quietly as he looked out the window. The city loomed before him, bustling, burning with hope that the future was going to be better than the past--filled with a bliss that wasn’t haunted by Thanos. He wished he could have that, too. “It’s everything I wanted.”
Bruce watched Peter walk in to the lab, book bag haphazardly slung over one shoulder, face contemplative, and he figured today wasn’t going to be an easy session. Apparently, Tony thought the same thing, and gave him a look which clearly said, good luck with the teenage angst spewing off of him .
“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter nodded at his mentor.
He wanted to acknowledge the fact that Mr. Stark thought of him as his kid, and he kinda thought of Mr. Stark as his dad, but he wasn’t sure how without making weird, so he’d just stuck to Mr. Stark.
“So the kid is alive!” Tony clapped him on the shoulder. “I almost thought that you were ghosting me, considering you ignored my call last night. If Karen hadn’t told FRIDAY that you were fine, the people of Queens would’ve gotten a serious surprise--”
“I was fine,” Peter tried to apologize. “Just needed a little space.”
“Kid, you’re gonna give me a complex!” Tony gasped. He turned dramatically to Bruce. “He’s gonna give me a complex. I give plenty of space, don’t I?”
“Pretty sure there’s a picture of you on the internet next to the definition of helicopter parents,” Bruce joked.
There it was again--that flare of anger that seemed to randomly rise towards Mr. Stark. Peter pushed it down, but Bruce had a sixth sense because of the Hulk. He could taste the aggression in the air, and his eyes honed in on Peter swiftly.
Peter definitely didn’t want to talk about whatever the hell was going on with him in that respect. But if they were alone, he’d have to. Peter could see it in Bruce’s eyes that he wasn’t going to let it go.
“No one appreciates me,” Tony looked heavenward, though there was a smirk making it’s way onto his face. After a second, he clapped his hands together. “Okay, well, I’ll leave you guys to it--don’t have too much fun without me.”
“Uhh,” Peter hesitated. He knew he had to tell Tony that he’d told MJ, but he didn’t want to be in trouble, or see disappointment in his eyes. He’d purposefully ignored Tony’s call to do something he wouldn’t approve of. But this conversation was better than talking about his randomly complex emotions towards Tony. “Maybe you should stay. For a little while. If you want.”
Bruce and Tony shared a look, but Peter simply sat down, and started tinkling with his web shooters.
“So, how’s everything been going this week?” Bruce broached hesitantly as Tony sat down in the seat he’d previously occupied.
“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Uh, you know.”
“Anything new?” Bruce asked as casually as he always did, but his eyes were sharp.
“Yeah,” Peter didn’t look up from his web shooters. “I--there’s--well…”
“Spit it out, kid,” Tony interrupted. Bruce glared at him, but he didn’t care. He was getting anxious just listening to the kid. His brain just started picturing the worst possible scenarios , and he couldn’t take it. If this is how all of Peter’s sessions with Bruce went, he wasn’t sure how the other man stood it. Then again, he knew he wasn’t much better in therapy either. He tried to soften his abrupt interruption, but it was a shallow attempt. “Take your time, though.”
Tony knew he was no help, and Bruce’s unimpressed glower drove the point home.
“I saw MJ last night.”
Peter inhaled sharply at just the mention of her name off his lips. She did that to him sometimes, and he knew he was so wrecked when it came to her. He couldn’t be anything else though, because he was still a little bit broken when it came to life. Life after Thanos.
“Is that why you ignored Tony’s call?” Bruce asked gently.
“Weren’t you patrolling when I called?” Tony reclined further, a practiced facade of nonchalance he’d perfected when he was Peter’s age.
“I was,” Peter nodded slowly. He felt like the world was going to tilt any second, but he took a calming breath. “And then I wasn’t.”
“And you saw MJ?” Bruce was trying to understand why this was such a big deal, but he couldn’t see it. Tony had a horrible inkling that was tickling the back of his neck but he ignored it. No , Peter wouldn’t do that . Of course not...except the look on Peter’s face was so guilty.
“I saw her. I’m sure you know I’ve been going by her place the past few nights,” Peter spoke to Tony who nodded jerkily. His heart thudded uncomfortably in anxiety. “Last night, I finally knocked.”
Bruce rolled his shoulder a bit trying to wave off the anxiety that was coming off of both Tony and Peter in waves. Sometimes being the Hulk really sucked . “Okay, well, this is a good thing, right?”
“I--I guess. I mean, I saw her,” Peter looked back down at his web shooters. “And I took off my mask.”
Bruce’s eyes bulged, but Tony’s silence was furious.
“Wow,” Bruce shook his head in disbelief. “That--definitely wasn’t expecting that.”
“Well, you asked me if we talked,” Peter started to ramble in his customary fashion. He knew a lecture from Tony was definitely on its way. “Y’know--if we shared things about our lives, and I couldn’t get it out of my head. Then I realized that we didn’t really share anything that wasn’t about school, or movies, or books--because that’s her thing--and--”
“ How reckless can you be ?!” Tony finally exploded. “Did you even think about this before you did it?! The kind of danger you just opened yourself up for?!”
“I did think about it--”
“No you didn’t! You just admitted that you two barely know each other outside of school, and you thought it was a good idea to tell someone you barely know about your secret identity! Are you insane?”
“Let’s take a breath,” Bruce tried to calm Tony down, but this was Tony in full dad mode.
The last time he’d exploded like this was on the spaceship--hell, that was pretty tame. The real last time Tony had reacted so furiously was with the Staten Island Ferry incident. Bruce may never have seen Tony in full parent mode, but Peter had--plenty of times during that year.
“What was I supposed to do? Just never let her completely in?” Peter questioned helplessly. “How is that any way to start something?”
“It’s not!” Tony yelled. “You don’t start something by telling someone we haven’t vetted. You start something first, make sure that something is actually something, and then after they’ve been vetted up the wahoo, you tell them. Maybe. If they pass the screening. You acted without any thought as to what this might do to your future.”
“She’s not gonna tell anyone,” Peter tried to make them see. But they didn’t know MJ.
“How do you know?” Bruce asked calmly, trying to bring the situation down a bit.
“I just do,” Peter knew it was a weak defense. But how could he explain that he felt connected to her. They hugged, and it mattered.
“FRIDAY,” Tony snapped.
“Yes, Boss?”
“I want to know everything about MJ ,” he sneered. “Make a full work up--for what good it’ll do at this point. But if she knows anyone or is connected to anyone in any way that’s shady we need to know about it.”
“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” Peter rolled his eyes. Bruce watched the interaction closely. At that moment, Steve walked in with a frown.
“What’s going on?”
“Underoos has gone off his rocker over some girl because Bruce,” he pointed an accusatory finger at the man who lifted his hands, palm up in a helpless gesture, “asked him if they shared things.”
“Being crazy about a girl isn’t such a bad thing, Tony,” Steve shrugged noncommittally, a small amused smile playing on his lips.
“Oh, no,” Tony flexed his fingers in frustration. “I thought so too. I was amused when this was just a crush, but now, Spiderling decided without consulting anyone that he was just going to tell her that he was Spiderman!”
Steve’s eyebrows shot up, and there was a look of satisfaction on Tony’s face that Peter wasn’t sure what to make of it. It was as if he’d been searching for validation for his reaction, and he’d finally found it.
But Tony’s commiseration didn’t last long. After a few moments, Steve said quietly, “He took a leap of faith. There’s no shame in that.”
Peter’s breath hitched because thankyou, thankyou, thankyou. It felt really good to have someone understand, even minimally what it was all about.
It was about faith.
It was always about faith, and suddenly the anger that climbed back and forth inside of him reared his head. Because he’d always had faith in Iron Man and--
Focus , Peter thought to himself. Now wasn’t the time for him to depack his convoluted emotions.
“Captain America understands,” Peter said petulantly. Tony’s nose flared and he took a step forward. By instinct, Peter took a step back, though he knew that he wasn’t in any actual danger. Nonetheless, Tony made an intimidating figure when he was upset.
“Cap is sentimental to the point of recklessness too!” He raged with a look of betrayal in his eyes, and Steve clenched his jaw.
“Being a superhero is a leap of faith, Tony,” Steve squared his shoulders. “So is friendship. So is love. Sometimes we have the courage to take the leap, and it goes well. Sometimes we take the leap and it all goes to hell. And sometimes...sometimes we don’t take the leap at all, and regret it...he took a leap, and we can’t fault him for it. If it goes wrong, we’ll be here to help him through it.”
Somehow, even though this conversation was about Peter’s spur-of-the-moment choice, Peter got the sense that this was also about more than him too. These were one of those moments that made him realize how much history was between these two long before he’d ever known Tony; Peter thought he could hear what Steve hadn’t said but meant: If it goes wrong, I’ll be here to help you help him through it.
Tony’s shoulders sagged finally, and Peter knew that the worst of the storm was over.
“I’m sorry,” Peter apologized.
He wasn’t sorry that he’d told MJ the truth--he wasn’t a thirty year old hero. He was sixteen, and it had been a weight on his chest that he couldn’t stand. Not when all he wanted was to be closer to her. As close as he could get-- shit , his body was reacting to thinking about being close to MJ; he quickly sat back down. He wasn’t even sure when he’d stood up, but everything seemed to have happened in super sonic speed and slow motion simultaneously.
“I know, kid. You’re so lucky I’m not grounding you right now” Tony sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. It was a testament to how intertwined they were that Peter didn’t even question whether or not he had the authority to ground him. He’s all the dad I’ve got left , and it wasn’t ever more clear than in moments like these. Tony pointed his finger at Peter and said sternly, “But I need you to promise that you won’t tell anyone else your secret until you’ve told me and I’ve gotten the chance to vet them properly. OKay?”
Peter nodded his head so many times that he looked like a bobble head. “Deal.”
“Well,” Bruce clapped his hands lightly together. “This has been one helluva session. I think we can leave it here.”
“Are we still going out today, or…?” Peter asked hesitantly as he bit his lip. Even though today wasn’t a real session, he’d gotten used to Tony taking him out after therapy. It was something that Peter loved and wouldn’t trade for the world, but he knew he’d messed up.
He trusted MJ, but he had nothing to prove that she was trustworthy except for a hug that he could still feel crawling on his skin; he knew that Tony just wanted to protect him--keep him safe, and by telling MJ about his identity without letting Tony vet her first, he was making it harder for him to do that.
Being a superhero is a leap of faith.
So is friendship.
So is love.
Peter couldn’t bring himself to regret it, even if Tony didn’t take him out to--
“Of course we’re still going out,” Tony frowned. “Why wouldn’t we?”
“Oh, well, I just thought, you know--because of the whole MJ thing, well, that you might be too disappointed in me--which I totally understand, cuz, like, I recognize that making decisions like that alone isn’t really cool, and--”
“Kid,” Tony interrupted with a raised eyebrow. “Shut up, alright?”
It was gruff, and rough around the edges just like Tony, but Peter understood. He would never forget.
I could never not be proud of you.
At this moment, Peter felt the truth of those words rush through him.
Because this was his dad . And fuck , he wanted to cry, and bare what had been burning through him for so long now without him even noticing.
Bruce felt the shift in the air, and his eyes pierced Peter. He knew Bruce would want to talk about his emotions at the next session, but for this moment, Peter just let it all go and smiled.
His smile was contagious and Tony, despite still being pissed at Peter’s leap of faith--a-la-Cap-style , couldn’t help but smile back.
Some kind of father and son, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.
Peter was pretty positive that when Tony told FRIDAY to look into MJ, that Peter was meant to stay away from her until she’d been cleared. But, just like the last four days, Peter found himself crossing the space between buildings, and sitting on the fire escape on MJ’s room. He hadn’t been patrolling though--just sleeping, dreaming of red and orange and the hues of life and death.
He’d awoken with sweat covering his body, his heart burning through his chest-- fuck, he thought he’d been getting better --and he just wanted some light. Somehow, a little bit of light and air, turned into a full out sprint across queens to MJ’s place.
Tonight, she wasn’t dancing in her pajamas, totally oblivious of how he watched her. Tonight, she was sitting at her window--almost as if she were waiting for him. Hell, maybe she was. Peter really hoped she was, because then that meant that she’d been thinking about him at least half as much as he’d been thinking about her.
"Hey," Peter stood on top of MJ's fire escape.
"What are you doing here, Peter?" MJ whispered harshly. Okay, maybe she hadn’t been thinking about him. Or maybe she was just surprised that he’d shown so late.
"I needed to see you."
“It’s almost midnight,” MJ remarked, clearly confused. “This couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“I have nightmares,” Peter blurted out. He wanted to take it back the second the words left his lips, but he remembered Bruce’s question: do you share things with each other ? He thought of Steve’s honesty: He took a leap of faith. There’s no shame in that . This was how he broke down all the walls. This was how he took his leap of faiths--little by little. So he continued, “I--most people disappeared quickly. Fell to ash. There one second, and gone the next. But I didn’t. I--my body fought it somehow. It hurt like a bitch, and I’m trying to get over it.”
“How’s that going?”
“Not great, but not nonexistent,” Peter shrugged. “Pretty sure I’ve had a setback.”
“Did you have a nightmare tonight?”
“Yeah. My therapist says that some things take time, and other things never fully go away, but that’s just the collateral damage of being a superhero. That if I’m waiting to wake up one day fully cured of nightmares, I’ll be waiting forever, because there’ll always be another horror, another awful thing to replace my current nightmares.”
Peter remembered the first time, after Toomes that he’d gotten a brand new nightmare to replace being stuck under rubble.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Peter’s hands shook as he tried to push against the bullet wound in his arm.
“Peter,” Karen’s voice broke his concentration. “You have an incoming call from Mr. Stark.”
“Are you crazy?” Peter panicked. “Ignore, ignore–”
“Baby Monitor protocol prohibits me from ignoring any calls from Mr. Stark,” Karen explained matter-of-factly.
“Karen, please–” Peter tried to plead and control his trembling hand as he swung his way to Neds house which was closer than his own. “You’re not ignoring. That’s harsh. No. You–you’re just prioritizing. I’ve got a more pressing problem.”
“Baby Monitor Protocol dictates that I inform Mr. Stark when you’ve been severely injured–”
“This isn’t severe, Karen!” Peter finally reached his destination, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever swung that fast before. He leaned his head against the window for a moment, harshly breathing. He could already feel his body healing–no,no,no. “I’m already getting better. Please, I’ll call him back. I swear Karen. Just, I need a minute, okay.”
Karen didn’t respond, but the fact that she didn’t patch him through was enough for Peter. He tapped the window a few times until Ned came into view.
“Dude!” Ned whispered in that dramatic fashion of his. “Are you crazy? Have you met my mom–is that blood?”
Peter slid into the room, and nodded. His hands hadn’t stopped shaking though. Because he’d been shot. Not in a video game, not in some simulated exercise–he’d been shot and he wasn’t sure how to process that yet, so he dealt with the most imminent problem.
“I was shot–”
“Oh my god,” Ned’s eyes widened in horror. “You need a hospital!”
“Ned!” Peter whisper-shouted to get the overwhelmed boys attention. He removed his hand from the wound that wasn’t bleeding as much as it had been before. “It’s already healing–I can’t go to a hospital…”
“What do we do?”
“We need to handle this–I can’t live with a bullet inside of me, traveling through my body–”
“Please stop, dude,” Ned shook his head. “You’re not making this better. Why aren’t we calling Mr. Stark?”
“Are you crazy? I wasn’t even supposed to be patrolling tonight. I’ll be in so much trouble.”
They stood in silence for a second. Then–
“Google.” Ned said firmly. “We need to google how to take out a bullet.”
Peter smiled. “This is why your my guy in the chair.”
But taking out a bullet was harder than it seemed, and it required steady hands, which neither Peter nor Ned had at the moment, one too freaked out and the other in too much pain. The wound wasn’t fatal by any means, but it bled, and it hurt, and they were fifteen–way in over their heads at that moment.
Tears burned Peter’s eyes as Ned wiggled the tweezer’s he’d stolen from his older sister’s room in Peter’s wound, trying to grab hold of the bullet.
“Tell me you’ve almost got it,” Peter grit his teeth, but the pain was climbing because they had to keep stretching the wound open to make sure they could get the bullet out. Rapid healing was amazing and it was such a damned curse.
“Dude, not even a bit” Ned practically cried. “I don’t even now how people do this shit in hospitals! It’s too slippery–I can’t. I just–dude. This isn’t working.”
At that moment, they both realized that they had to call for help. They were in so much trouble.
“Well, how would they know?” MJ snapped, trying to be supportive and effectively brought Peter back from the memory. It took him a moment to remember what they were talking about. .
“Uh,” Peter ran his hand through his hair unsurely. “My therapist might be a superhero…”
“Not Ironman?”
“Nope.”
“Who?”
“Bruce Banner.”
“Bruce Banner?” MJ furrowed her brows in confusion for a moment. But that didn’t last long. “You mean the hulk? ”
Peter nodded, and MJ sighed harshly. “Well, shit. Okay.”
Peter sat still, his mind going back to that night. The night that had sorta changed it all for Peter and Tony.
“Karen,” Peter had put the mask back on. His hands shook, he was in pain, and he still hadn’t processed what had actually happened.
Robbery.
Masked men.
Guns.
Shots fired.
A burning in his arm that reminded Peter how human he really was; sometimes he forgot.
“Yes, Peter,” Karen said kindly, like a mother who’d been waiting patiently for her son to figure out he needed help.
“Call Mr. Stark.”
It only took a moment, and the second that Peter heard Mr. Stark’s voice, his tears started to come in earnest.
“Hey, hey, kid,” Tony’s freaked eyes looked at him. “What’s the matter? Are you crying?”
“I’m sorry,” Peter sobbed, and it was like a dam had broken inside of him. He’d been shot. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and why wouldn’t they stop shaking. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”
“Okay, no apologizing,” Tony said firmly, but there was clear concern in his voice. “Everything’s okay. Just tell me what’s wrong?”
“I was shot,” Peter had whispered brokenly. It cracked like glass shattering on the floor, and Tony was frozen in fear for a moment.
“What?” his eyes were just as wide as Ned’s had been, but whereas Ned had been panicking, Tony was clearly moving with determination. “Where are you?”
“I’m at Ned’s,” Peter’s voice continued to crack–he felt so human. It’d been so long since he’d felt like this. This was like being buried under the rubble by Toomes all over again; he was helpless, hurt, heartbroken because how could he save others if he couldn’t even save himself? “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. I know–I know I wasn’t supposed to be out tonight. And–And I know it was so stupid getting shot–”
“Hey, you don’t control people shooting at you,” Tony tried to reassure him. “Look, I get it, kid. We all feel inadequate when we get hurt on the job. I’ve been on the receiving end of that more than I’d like to admit. But Cap--” he paused and Peter knew it was difficult for Tony to talk about Steve. His voice was gruffer as he continued, and Peter thought it might have been a different kind of pain than Tony was used to dealing with. “Cap used to tell me that being hurt is human. ‘Even super-soldiers get hurt too sometimes, Tony. Everyone gets knocked down, Tony. You just gotta let someone help pick you up until you can pick yourself up, Tony. I’ve got you until then--’” he mocked in what was supposed to be Steve’s voice and cut himself off sharply with a harsh sigh. Peter wanted to laugh at the imitation, but all he managed was a sharp inhale because of the pain and tears. From Tony’s sigh, he thought that the pain of Steve’s memory might’ve been too much for him too.
“Listen, the point is, everyone gets hurt, alright kiddo?” Tony wasn’t as great with words as Steve had apparently been, but he tried for Peter, and Peter was grateful. “I’m almost there, Peter, but you gotta know that this is okay. It’s okay to get hurt, and let someone help you. I wish you’d called me first before going to Ted–”
“His name’s Ned.”
“Can you meet me on the roof? I’m not sure how I would explain my presence to Ned’s Mom.”
In a few moments, Peter had thanked Ned, promised to call him tomorrow, and had crawled one armed up to the roof.
Seeing Tony only made a fresh round of tears come up, but Peter had tried to keep them at bay. Tony, without any words had swept him up to carry him as though he was a toddler again.
They had reached the tower in six minutes; it only took Mr. Stark’s steady hands two minutes to pull the bullet out of his arm. Another two to stitch him up though the wound was already healing now that nothing was lodged in and no one was trying to actively keep it open.
Silence engulfed them both, but Peter knew he needed to explain. He knew he had to deal with what happened, but he wasn’t sure how.
“My healing,” Peter said shakily, as he simply stared at his hands that wouldn’t stop shaking. “It kept getting in the way, and it was taking Ned too long to take the bullet out, so we had to keep stretching the wound open, and–”
“Kid, kid, stop,” Tony placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, and Peter sagged in exhaustion or relief; he wasn’t sure which, and it didn’t really matter much. “Look, I know I’m a hard ass with you sometimes, and I can’t help that–I was raised by Howard Stark, and whether we like it or not, we learn how to parent from our parents even if it’s shitty sometimes. The point is, you’re okay, and that’s what matters most, okay? And next time, call me.”
Peter nodded, but he couldn’t look away from his hands.
“I got shot tonight.”
“Yeah, kid, don’t remind me–you’re cutting years off my life.” It was a dismissive joke, meant to mask how scared and distraught Tony had actually been when he’d been told. “And remind me to fix whatever went wrong with the Baby Monitor Protocol that should’ve alerted me.”
Peter gave him guilty look. Silence wrapped them in a warm embrace as the city lights shined bright; Peter couldn’t stop the words from forming.
“How long till my hands stop shaking?”
“Soon,” Tony promised as he grabbed a drink from the bar and sat on the couch opposite Peter in the living room. “Now sleep, kid. I’m right here.”
He clearly didn’t have the heart to tell him that being a superhero meant this his hands won’t ever stop shaking–he’ll just learn to control better when to let them with time, but Peter knew anyway. He could see Tony’s hands shaking too.
It was the night Peter realized that his greatest hero, Iron Man , was made of armor that was slowly being chipped away at, little by little with every horror and nightmare that was added to the list; it was the night Peter realized that one of Tony’s nightmares was him being hurt; it was the night Peter realized he mattered to the man.
Tony cared.
He just hadn’t known how much just yet. But it was the true beginning for them--as something more than just absentee mentor and slightly rebellious mentee.
Peter wished they could go back to those times--before Titan, before Thanos, before he counted himself lucky if he’d slept the whole night through three days in one week.
Memories, good and bad, washed over him; Peter couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him.
“Do you want to come inside?” MJ asked him quietly. Her eyes swirled with compassion, and Peter wondered if she could see all of his memories too. If maybe, some hidden power had manifested itself and all of his worries, fears, and dreams had come to life around them without him even noticing.
Fuck, he was tired and losing it slightly. Going inside sounded almost like heaven.
But he knew he shouldn’t go inside though. Not until Tony vetted her. Not until they were something more than what they were; one hug didn’t change much. A few kisses along her pointy shoulder blade didn’t make them more . But she was the balm he’d needed after nightmares full of dust and screams and darkness.
She made his heart lighter somehow, and he nodded. She moved back from the window, and he slipped inside. Peter swiftly took off the mask and threw it on her computer table. He didn’t want to hide from her. Not when he felt like he was naked under her gaze anyway.
There was a moment of heaviness mixed with awkwardness, where neither knew what to do, but Peter’s body was moving towards the bed before he could consciously make a decision.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her along.
“Just until you fall asleep,” Peter laid down on the bed and wrapped an arm around her. He wasn’t sure if that was okay, but she didn’t push him away.
He closed his eyes, arms wrapped around MJ, and he couldn’t help the peace that settled over him; he finally felt at ease with himself.
“Why were you awake? When I showed up,” Peter whispered against her hair that was attempting to smother him. He didn’t mind though. He just wanted to continue to breathe her in. He just wanted to keep her in his arms a little longer.
“I was waiting for a hero,” MJ joked quietly, but there was a shakiness to her voice that told him there was something true about her words, too.
Peter suspired slowly, and tightened his hold around her. “I hope this hero’s enough for you.”
He was teasing her, but he also really fucking meant it , because he was so broken, he wasn’t sure he could ever truly be enough for anyone ever again. Not as Spiderman. Maybe not as Peter Parker either.
But he was trying.
Trying and failing shapes you, motivates you, makes you better in other unexpected ways...If you try and fail then I’d still be proud of you…I could never not be proud of you.
Peter held onto that on nights like tonight when he thought he would never stop failing.
“He is,” MJ whispered, and clung to his arm. She shifted it so it rested between her breasts, and she hugged his arm like a lifeline. He wondered if she was drowning as much as he was in this world that had moved on without them. “ He is .”
Peter smiled against her hair as he fell asleep; he was pretty sure that life was a leap of faith, too.