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Chapter Text

The first time that MJ meets May Parker is following the fiasco in D.C., when May is the first adult to the bus and shoves her way through the rest to fold Peter up in her arms.

It’s not that the rest of the parents aren’t concerned. In fact, as MJ leans against the side of the bus, she decides she has never seen a group of people reveal their worry in so many different ways. Ned’s mom and dad immediately usher him into the car, not letting him get a word in edgewise as they explain how worried they were when they heard. Ned’s mother doesn’t release his arm until he asks her to so that he can get in the car. Cindy Moon’s father bursts into tears while clutching onto her stepdad’s arm, causing the girl to appear mortified. Still, Cindy isn’t able to refrain from kissing her fathers on the cheek, and when she walks back to the bus stop with him she is holding their hands. Abe’s parents show up with a thermos of his favorite soup, and they can’t seem to stop looking to make sure he’s really there as they make their way back to the car. Obviously, all of these people really care about their children, and many of them were worried sick.

What makes May Parker different is the way that she clings to Peter Parker like he is her whole world, and the way that he holds her in return. Each is all the other has in the world, and they know it without questioning.

MJ can’t look away, just for a second, as she leans into the metal panelling on the side of the schoolbus. The cold bites into her back, but MJ is grateful for the distraction from the two of them that gives her a reason to avert her gaze, look straight ahead. Theirs is not a moment meant for her to witness, and that should be enough reason for her to mind her own business.

For a few minutes, that is remarkably easy. MJ fixes her gaze on the darkened school building, marvelling over the way it looks like an empty carcass at night, without any students to fill it. Something feels wrong about it existing here, at night, at a time when it serves no purpose. Liminal space.

That’s the space MJ feels like she’s occupying right about now.

“It’s Michelle, right?”

The sound of May Parker’s voice breaks MJ out of her thoughts, causing her head to snap in the direction of May and Peter. The former currently has her arm wrapped around the latter, but her dark eyes seem to pierce into MJ from behind her dark-rimmed glasses. Peter is looking at her, too, and his stupid puppy eyes see much more than MJ wants them to, thank you very much. It’s not like those eyes are the reason her heart is speeding up or anything.

“Um, yeah,” MJ replies, keeping her voice cool, calm.

“She’s on decathlon, too,” Peter explains, offering MJ a sheepish grin as he glances between her and May.

“Were you up there, too?” May asks, her eyes large as they fix on MJ.

MJ glances at Peter, who seems to pick up on her discomfort and offers her an apologetic shrug. Her eyes drift back to May before she answers. “No, I wasn’t.” MJ looks down at the ground, lightly kicking a pebble with the toe of her shoe rather than looking into the earnest eyes of May Parker. “I was actually on the ground when it happened. I talked to Spiderman, though. Before he got everyone down and did a quick tape-and-glue fix on a piece of dubious history.”

“Dubious?” Peter echoes.

“It was built by slaves, Parker,” MJ hums, glancing up at him with a raised eyebrow.

Peter’s own eyebrows leap up in search of his hairline as his eyes widen, and MJ can tell he’s struggling to find something to say. May saves him the trouble, however.

“That must have been hard.” The woman’s words cause MJ to glance back at her, which she immediately regrets. May’s big, dark eyes have the same soulful, searching quality as her nephew’s, and it feels like they are sifting through her as she continues, compassionately. “Being on the ground, while all of your friends were in danger up in the Monument.”

For a minute, something aches in the back of MJ’s throat. Back in the hotel that night, she had had a moment of panic by the elevator, watching everyone pile in again and then go up while she remained behind to take the stairs. For just a minute, she had wanted to shout after them, wanted them to get off and stay on the ground where it was safe. And, as she stood in the stairwell by herself, MJ had needed to fight to keep her breathing steady, to calm her racing heart.

“Um… Yeah,” is all that MJ manages as she stares back at May, and for just a moment, her eyes sting. “Yeah. It was.”

May’s gaze softens, and MJ thinks that Peter’s might, too. May’s gaze travels over the dissipating crowd of parents, then back to MJ. “Do you have a ride home, hon?” she questions, tucking a strand of her long, brown hair behind her ears with swift fingers. “If you need us to, we can swing you by your house. What’s your address?”

“My brother’s on his way, actually,” MJ responds quickly, her gaze dropping to her feet again. Come on, MJ… The two have enough to worry about without her, and she shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. Still, she feels guilty turning May down so abruptly, and she can’t stop herself from saying, “Thanks.”

Across the lot, a battered compact car pulls in, nearly colliding with Flash’s dad’s SUV on the way out. The blaring of horns causes all three of them to turn instinctively to the vehicles, and MJ’s eyes seize upon the small vehicle.

“Judging by the driving, that’s my ride,” MJ hums, standing up straight from where she was leaning on the bus. “But, um… Have a good night.”

MJ turns to walk to the car, but she is not quick enough to hear May’s quiet question to Peter. “Why haven’t I met her before? She seems sweet.”

“I’ve told you about her, she’s the one who won the competition for us,” Peter responds quietly as the pair turns. “Yeah… She’s great.”

“Well, she’s coming over for dinner sometime.”

“May-”

The rest is cut off by the squealing of tires in front of her, then the rolling down of a window. Her brother’s head sticks out, and he extends an arm. “Are you gonna get in?” he snaps, running a hand through his hair and raising an eyebrow.

MJ crosses the front of the car without a word, rolling her eyes. She yanks open the door to the backseat and tosses her bag in, not bothering with care since the crumpled-up dirty clothes will probably cushion the few souvenirs she got, anyway.

MJ has barely plopped into the front seat when her brother floors it, speeding through the school parking lot in his constant race against absolutely no one, in which the prize is a night in a jail cell. “Just keep speeding,” MJ comments, pulling out her phone and unlocking it in a swipe of her finger. “Otherwise, your terrible personality might finally catch up to you.”

“You’re the worst,” her brother grunts, not taking his eyes off the road as he swerves past some poor, unfortunate soul, ignoring the blaring of a horn.

“Yeah, whatever,” MJ remarks serenely, her eyes locked on the cracked screen but not really seeing.

“You’re the worst,” his voice repeats again in her brain. Before the words can sink in, however, another set of voices pipes up in the quiet of MJ’s brain.

“She seems sweet.”

“Yeah, she’s great.”

Chapter Text

There’s a difference between “knowing of” someone and actually meeting them, and MJ becomes intimately acquainted with this difference during an afternoon shop class a month or so after the trip.

It’s coincidental, really; Peter doesn’t show up for class that day, leaving Ned alone in his workstation in front of MJ’s. He doesn’t seem fazed, but though MJ has her own suspicions about Ned’s indifference on the issue, the moment doesn’t lend her the time to explore them.

Instead, the moment offers her something infinitely better: the opportunity to watch Ned Leeds struggle to figure out what Peter was doing on their project and getting more and more frustrated as he goes.

MJ does not take her eyes off of her own project, but she can’t repress the amusement that shoots through her every time she hears a bang of frustration on the countertop in front of her, and every little sigh and mumbled exclamation only increases her mirth. MJ allows it to go on for about fifteen minutes of the class before she finally speaks up.

“Having fun, Leeds?”

Ned glances back at MJ, who is continuing on one of the sketched plans in her notes. He lets out a frustrated breath, then looks down at his work again. “A real blast,” he responds sarcastically, reaching to try a different tool. He’s currently struggling to undo a part of the project, hoping to remove some of the framework Peter did so that he can continue in a way he understands. “Look, I’ve just had a day, okay? I don’t need-”

“Use a 6-point wrench,” MJ interrupts, not looking up. Still, though her pencil is on the paper, she is not sketching anything. “The 12-point you’re using on that bolt is slipping because it’s not the right one, and you’re gonna probably have to use a new bolt. It might be stripped now.”

Ned’s head snaps up to stare at her, and for a moment, MJ can feel his eyes burning into her forehead as he struggles to figure out whether or not MJ is screwing with him. She does not look up. Instead, she continues sketching out the plans for her small, metal sculpture, allowing herself to be soothed by the soft scratching of the pencil in the middle of a storm of banging and hammering.

After a moment of staring, Ned slowly sets down his wrench and picks up the one she suggested after a moment of searching. Surely enough, the bolt is out not thirty seconds later, and MJ does look up this time. It is stripped, and she can’t keep a small, dry grin from sliding onto her lips. “See?”

Ned looks from the screw, to her, to the screw again. After a moment’s hesitation, a sheepish smile does cross his mouth. “Yeah, okay,” he admits. “Not gonna lie, I thought that you were telling me that so I’d, like, smack myself in the face with it or something.”

“Tempting,” MJ admits, raising an eyebrow. “But no. It’s just less fun to watch you struggle without your other half, so I figured the least I could do was help.”

Ned winces slightly at the mention of Peter, glancing over his shoulder as if he is expecting backup behind him. After finding no one, he swallows and turns back to face her. “Um, yeah,” he says slowly. “Peter, uh, wasn’t feeling great today. Said something about headaches. Really bad ones, y’know? He was all… Green and stuff. Kinda like he was gonna barf.”

“Flattering,” MJ hums, turning back to her plans. Still, a little amusement sneaks into her voice as she adds, “Glad I could help.”

For a moment, there is quiet between them. MJ is expecting Ned to go back to working, but the telltale banging of metal tools doesn’t resume. Instead, there is a moment of silence, and it stretches on so long that MJ can’t keep herself from looking up.

When she does, she finds Ned staring at her still in contemplation. MJ arches a brow, tipping her head slightly to the side. “I know I’m attractive, Leeds, but I didn’t expect for you to fall for me so fast. If you’re going to announce your undying love for me, I regret to inform you I’m promised to another-”

“You’re smart.” Ned interrupts her with a tone so declarative that, for a moment, MJ isn’t sure what to say.

“I know,” she finally responds, her voice as calm and factual, and there isn’t any pride in it as she tries to figure out his angle. “What’s your point?”

“I need help with this,” Ned replies, gesturing to the metal framework on the table in front of him. “I’m great with coding, but this is not computers. And Peter’s gone, so I don’t have anyone to tell me what to do.”

“I do love telling people what to do,” MJ agrees, nodding sagely. She glances at her project, then back at him. “But I hardly know what you guys are working on.”

“We’re trying to make an industrial shelving unit for May. It doesn’t need to be perfect, because she’s kind of a more abstract kind of person.” Ned gives her a hopeful look, gesturing to it. “Look, you know what you’re doing. It’s just one day.”

MJ considers the idea for a moment. Her project can probably wait until next week, it’s true. But she’s never done anything like this.   

“I’ll do it,” MJ finally responds, closing her notebook. Ned’s face lights up, but MJ holds up a finger. “But I don’t want to talk. I can’t hear anything over the noise anyway, and it stresses me out when I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

Ned nods quickly. “Deal,” he promises, moving to the other side of the table so that there’s room for her. MJ moves over by him, and she can’t help but be slightly comforted by the ordered chaos of the workstation. There’s Ned’s plans, all in his writing with some scribbled notes in Parker’s untidy scrawl. As her eyes scan the various tools, she can see that Peter has a way he likes things, and it makes sense to her in a strange, instinctive way.

MJ picks up a fresh bolt and the 6-point, offering Ned a quick nod and a little smirk. “Let’s do it,” she decides, beginning to put the bolt back into place. “You can get to work on disassembling that rod across from me. It’ll be more stable if it’s enforced differently.”

After that, they settle into a rhythm. It’s easy, natural, and effortless as the various tools rise and fall, creating clanging and crashing that sounds to MJ like the pounding of a robotic heartbeat. They don’t talk, but there’s no need. After a few minutes, the pair relaxes into a joint pace that MJ loses herself in. She doesn’t need Ned to explain what he’s doing; just one glance at him is enough to understand what his next goal is and to help her work around it. He doesn’t question, doesn’t talk, doesn’t do anything but work with her. Every once in a while, when they make eye contact by accident, MJ makes a face and he mimics it in response, and then MJ goes back to work with a little bit of warmth in her stomach that is comfortable and at ease

It’s easier to understand Ned Leeds than she thought.

The class period flies by, and before MJ knows it, the bell is ringing. They have made great progress on the shelving, but MJ can’t keep away the disappointment as she glances up at Ned. “Well, I guess that’s it,” she mumbles, beginning to put away the wrench. “I’ll see you later, dweeb.”

MJ is about to turn to grab her bag when Ned says, “Wait.” His voice is slightly flustered as MJ turns to face him, her eyes meeting his.

“What?” she asks, glancing at the door. “Look, I have to go.”

“I know,” Ned says hastily. “It’s just…” He pauses, glancing at their work, then her again. “Maybe you could keep helping us. Even when Peter gets back. I mean, we’ve gotten more done today than we have all semester.”

MJ’s lips quirk up at the corners in response to that. “That’s because whenever you and Parker are over here you host your own private nerd conference instead of actually working.”Ned grins then, shrugging.

MJ considers him for one more moment. On the one hand, this is a really bad idea… Her feelings regarding a certain loser with brown, curly hair are complicated and useless, and this will just create more confusion.

On the other hand, her feelings for a tall, whiz-kid hacker with no metalworking abilities are beginning to resemble something like friendship.

“Someone has to keep you dweebs focused,” she finally answers nonchalantly. “I guess I can babysit.”

“Yes!” Ned exclaims, pumping his fist as his face lights up. “Dude, this is gonna be great. You and Peter can do the assembly, and I can focus more on the plan. I had an idea for the top, to give it a little decoration so it fits in with the rest of May’s furniture-”

“You can write it down and bring it to the next dork convention,” MJ replies, turning to gather her things. “But for now, I have to go to Chem.”

“It’s cool, I can walk with you!” Ned replies from behind her.

“Fine. But we’re keeping the shop talk to a minimum. Well, shop class talk.” MJ makes an effort to sound slightly annoyed, but she can’t keep a smile from darting across her lips as she puts the rest of her supplies in her bag.

By the time she turns around to join the tall boy in the nerdy hoodie that says “Paladin” in the NASA logo, MJ has composed her face. Her normal mask of indifference may be plastered on her face, but there is a warmth thrumming in her belly that she is too afraid to identify. Because if she’s wrong… An unrequited desire for friendship would hurt too much.

Still, as she listens to the dork beside her rant with enthusiasm all the way to class, something tells her that her not only is her feeling correct, but that maybe, just maybe, it is returned by Ned Leeds.

Chapter Text

MJ is used to being treated like an adult by now. She’s been working since the second she turned fourteen, and her dad is rarely home, so she mostly has to fend for herself. Her brother occasionally acts as her ride, but that’s about as much help as she gets from her family, and she’s perfectly fine that way. It’s what she’s used to: no special treatment.

So, when someone treats MJ like a kid, it’s hard for her to forget.

Ever since she joined the pair of losers at their station for shop class, she’s found herself growing closer and closer to them and their friendship. It helps that they all have nearly the same schedules, being on the advanced tracks in the same grade. It also helps that, though she doesn’t flaunt it, MJ is perfectly fluent in geek.

Their friendship blossoms in a few months, filled with after-school sandwiches, Friday-night binge marathons, and package after package of sour gummy worms. Soon, she is at Peter’s house almost as much as Ned is, and she’s affectionately referred to by Ned’s parents as “that girl with the t-shirts.”

Sure, at first it’s a little weird… Especially because of the feelings MJ can’t sort out towards Peter Parker. Somehow, being around him is impossibly easy and extremely difficult. He is a total dweeb, and he is conscientious, and he is quirky, and he has puppy eyes that she has to work really, really hard to ignore. But at the same time, she loves the way it feels to be around Ned and Peter, binging Netflix in the living room with way too much sugar. Sure, every once in a while she has to tap out so the two best friends can have a moment, but she doesn’t mind sitting and drawing with some time to herself for a while. And this friendship, the newfound proximity she has with the two biggest nerds she knows… It’s not worth risking over a weird tingling in her stomach. Besides, there’s something else involving Peter Parker that occupies her thoughts the more she gets to know them, and it’s a bit harder to ignore.

It only takes a few more weeks for MJ to be absolutely certain that Peter is Spiderman and Ned is involved. Between the hasty excuses on Ned’s part and the suspicious absences on Peter’s, she is convinced about a month in. This is only further confirmed by the little project she finds by Peter’s chem workstation when she accidentally opens the wrong drawer. Still, MJ doesn’t push it. As far as Peter is concerned, all she knows about is the Stark internship, and that is the way it’s going to stay… For now.

However, being friends with Spiderman makes it hard to completely avoid the more exciting side of Peter’s life, even from the sidelines. There are a lot of cancelled hangouts, a lot of abrupt ends to facetimes, and a lot of conversations between Peter and Ned that are quickly hushed when she enters the room. But none of that is a direct interaction with the nighttime vigilante routine of her best friends… At least, not until one afternoon in the summer, when she is spending the day at Ned’s house with him and with Peter.

The morning is spent in the living room, with Firefly playing for their third time through the series. MJ is drawing in her favorite chair, while Peter and Ned share the couch and the coffee table to work on their latest LEGO model. The plan is to stay all afternoon and pop in a pizza for dinner, then go to a movie together later in the evening.

“How’s the drawing coming?” Peter asks lazily, taking his time as he sets a small, flat LEGO that resembles panelling on the model of a hobbit-hole.

“Not well,” MJ replies, not looking up as her pencil scratches the paper. “You two are too relaxed for me to draw you in crisis, so I’m out of my usual genre.”

Ned lets out a soft huff of amusement as he studies the manual. “You could always do something to put us in crisis,” he suggests breezily. “You could smash it, or maybe cancel our tickets to the movie?”

MJ feigns a moment of consideration, looking up her paper for a moment.“Nah, too mundane,” MJ decides, shaking her head slightly. “I need something good, like a sudden onset of a heart attack or a death in the family.”

“You could always go all Lizzie Borden on Ned’s parents,” Peter suggests. “If you’re lucky, that’ll give us a heart attack, too, and you’ll be double lucky.” Peter glances at Ned, grinning slightly. “You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

Ned appears to mull it over. He comes to a decision quickly, nodding reasonably. “If it’s for a good cause,” he responds likely. “Ah, the things we do for art.”

“You don’t do shit for art, Leeds,” MJ replies.

“I’m hurt. You know that I’m particularly proud of my stick figures.”

There is a ringing of the doorbell, and Ned glances over his shoulder. “Should you get that?” Peter questions, but Ned shakes his head.

“No, my mom will. It’s probably just a delivery or something,” he responds.

“You just don’t want to abandon your nerd project,” MJ remarks serenely from the chair.

“Bilbo needs a place to live, MJ. We can’t just leave him homeless.”

Before MJ can come up with a reply, Ned’s mother peeps her head through the doorway. Her eyes are slightly wide as she gestures to the hall behind her. “Peter, someone is here for you. I think he said he’s your ride.” As soon as she is done, she returns to the kitchen where she was sitting at her desk, working.

“Your ride?” Ned repeats. “Dude, we’re here for like four more hours.”

Peter, however, is focusing on a text that seems to have just come through to his phone. His eyes are wide, and for a moment MJ doesn’t think that he heard his best friend speak at all. After a few seconds of silence, it seems to set in that he’s supposed to respond. Peter’s head snaps up.

“Um-- um, yeah. Right. Uh, look, guys, I just got a text from the people at the internship. I’m gonna have to go.” His words are a jumble, tumbling out of his mouth too slowly, then too quickly, then too slowly again.

Ned immediately seems to catch on, offering Peter a brisk nod. MJ can barely keep from rolling her eyes.

Honestly. If these losers really wanted to keep her from figuring it out, Ned would have least feigned a moment of disappointment or confusion.

“Lame,” MJ comments. Peter’s eyebrows shoot up defensively, but MJ doesn’t give him a chance to protest. “Bailing on us for Tony Stark. Really, Parker? It’s not like he’s Bilbo Baggins.”

Once Peter has picked up on the fact that MJ is joking, his whole body relaxes. “I mean, they’re about the same height,” he reasons, furrowing his brow slightly even as he makes his absent comment. When he realizes what he has implied, Peter’s eyes widen. “I never said that. I’ll deny it.”

“Too bad, Parker. Already got it committed to memory.”

“And the government probably got it through your phone,” Ned adds, grinning as well.

MJ glances at the rectangle that is jutting out of Peter’s pocket. “It’s a Stark Industries phone, Parker. I bet he’s nuking your apartment complex right now.”

“Draining your college fund?” Ned suggests.

“Having you charged with slander.”

“Confiscating all of the gummy worms in Delmar’s.”

“Outlawing nerdy graphic t-shirts.”

“Okay, not fair. You know I wear those-” Before Ned can finish protesting, however, there’s someone in the doorway who lets out a cough.

“Hey, kid, get a move on. I’ve been waiting.” The voice is gruff, and it causes Peter, MJ, and Ned all to swivel their heads to face it.

In the doorway stands a man that MJ has never seen before. He is rather shorter than most other men, a little stout, and he wears a crisp suit that elevates his importance as he stands beneath the Leeds’ “Home Sweet Home” sign. Though Ned tries to hide it, MJ can tell that he recognizes the man by the way he sits up a little straighter, realizes the change he has made, and attempts to amend it. Peter, however, fixes the man with a significant look, clearly trying to wish him from the room.

In response, the newcomer arches a single eyebrow, unimpressed. “You’re the one who took your time. Come on, you’re needed.”

“Needed?” MJ queries, turning to look at Peter now. Everyone’s eyes jump from Mr. Tuxedo to her, but she doesn’t seem the least bit unnerved by the sudden attention. “You’re my ride, Parker.”

Peter groans softly, slapping his forehead with his palm. “Right,” he mumbles, shooting her an apologetic look before turning to Ned. “Is there any way your mom can-”

“Dad has the car,” Ned interrupts solemnly, causing Peter to wince.

“It’s fine,” MJ hums serenely, turning to her notebook. “I’ll just teleport.” Still, in her head, she’s running over the logistics. It’s really not Peter’s fault. He couldn’t predict danger in the city, so it’s not an intentional problem on his part. She can probably coerce her brother into picking her up, albeit several hours later than planned, but she’s sure that she can threaten Leeds into letting her stay…

The train of thought is interrupted by the newcomer, who grunts, “I’ll take you home, kid.”

MJ’s gaze jumps to his, and she arches an eyebrow. “Just to clarify,” she drawls, “you want me, an underage girl with the build of a stick bug, to get in the car with you, a grown man I have never seen in my life?”

She’s not trying to be difficult-- just sarcastic, really. Her tone betrays that, at least to the two dweebs who know her well. Peter glances between her, then the man, then to her again before he speaks.

“Okay, so this is Happy. He’s… My supervisor, for the internship. He helps to drive me and stuff sometimes. And we both know you took self-defense and have enough pepper spray on your keychain to blind a man.”

“I’m not your chauffeur, kid,” the man points out.

MJ arches an eyebrow now, leaning forward slightly. “Wait. So, you’re driving this loser around for your job, but you’re not a chauffeur?” Her tone is genuinely inquisitive, not provocative.

The man’s eyes dart to her, and for a moment she could swear amusement flickers through them. “It happens every once in a while. But I’m the brains behind this operation. Like he said, I manage. I do most of the hands-on supervision.”

“For Stark?” MJ questions, tipping her head to the side slightly. “You don’t have nearly enough gray hair to be doing that.”

The man straightens up slightly, and MJ thinks he might puff out his chest a little. For a moment, he studies her, then he points at her and turns to Peter. “I like this one,” he decides, waving the finger vaguely in MJ’s direction. “Take notes, kid. It wouldn’t kill you to be a little charming every once in a while.”

Ned nearly chokes as he turns to MJ, eyes wide as saucers. “Charming?” he splutters, causing MJ to smirk slightly.

“Watch it, Leeds,” she remarks. “That hobbit hole looks awfully breakable.”

“You wouldn’t,” Ned says lowly, eyes narrowing.

“Oh, but I would.”

“Okay, we’re done screwing around,” Peter interrupts, glancing at his phone, then Happy again. “MJ, are you cool coming with?”

MJ is the one who studies Happy this time, and she thinks she sees a little bit of warm mirth in his eyes as she does so. “Mm… Alright,” she decides. “I can just walk home, if you’re okay dropping me off a few blocks from home.”

“See? Courteous, too,” Happy informs Peter as he turns around. “Get your stuff. Wheels up in two minutes.”

“Wait, on a plane?” Peter blurts.

Happy shoots an exasperated look over his shoulder. “No, kid. It’s just the car.” With that, he’s gone.

MJ has already started gathering her things, and she shoves them all into her bag before she slings it over her shoulder. “Later, Leeds. Stay stupid.” Ned salutes her with his middle finger as she walks into the hallway with Peter on her heels.

MJ walks briskly towards the door, focused on getting in the car. She can tell that Peter, however, is studying her from behind in a way that makes her skin tingle. “A picture lasts longer, Parker,” she points out as she reaches the door, holding it open for him. Chivalry isn’t dead, right?

“Sorry, sorry,” Peter stammers as they walk onto the Leed’s steps. “It’s just…”

For some reason, the vague language Peter uses makes MJ’s heart skip. “Just what?” she presses slowly.

Peter shakes his head behind her, and MJ ignores her pounding heart. “I think he likes you.”

As Peter comes into step with her, MJ touches her palm to her chest over her heart. “Ouch. You don’t have to sound so surprised, Parker. You know I’m a people person.”

Peter snorts softly, shaking his head. “No, no! I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, half-defensively. “It’s just… He doesn’t really get along well with most people.”

MJ offers Peter a slight grin, though it is a bit more muted than it was before. “Well, I guess it’s just my magnetic personality.” Still, though, something in her chest tightens at that thought.

Happy likes her.

MJ isn’t used to being a first choice, isn’t used to being a favorite. And, as much as she adores her close friend (and maybe is attracted to him, not that that’s a thing or anything), she is definitely not used to being preferred over Peter. This doesn’t mean she takes pleasure in it: anyone who wouldn’t pick Peter’s heart of gold and nerdy, earnest sweetness must be crazy. He’s the best person she knows.

And still, a little voice in her head whispers, Happy seems to prefer you to him, at least on a surface level.

It’s this MJ thinks about as she climbs in the car, and once Peter is strapped in next to her, the car starts moving. In order to prevent thinking about the fact that their arms are brushing, MJ takes out her sketchbook and gets to work, letting the scratching of the pencil and the task of proportions, highlights, and shading distract her.

“Alright, kid,” Happy says from the front. “We’ve got a bit of a… Situation at the lab. There’s been an issue with a project, if you know what I mean.”

MJ doesn’t have to look at Peter to imagine the expression he is making in his confused silence. Furrowed brow, eyes narrowed slightly, lips pursed… She could sketch it from memory if she needed to.

“Um, which one?” Peter asks slowly. “Can you be a little more specific?”

“It’s the one involving the pyrotechnics. There was an issue with the flammability,” Happy replies smoothly.

Peter is silent again, and a bit of amusement flickers through MJ. “Um…” Peter finally endeavors, “what’s the specific cause, exactly?”

Happy is about to respond when MJ jumps in. “He’s talking about the explosion at the chemical plant on Merrick,” she hums, working on a particularly precise bit of line work. “Your bug skills should come in handy.”

MJ glances up, and she finds Happy fixing Peter with a fierce glare. “Seriously, kid? You told her?”

Peter, beside MJ, is ashen. “I-I didn’t!” he stammers, turning to face her with wide eyes. “I swear, I didn’t!”

“He didn’t,” MJ agrees, shutting her sketchbook placidly and setting it on her lap. “I figured it out in D.C.”

Peter’s eyes bug out now, and MJ wonders if he’s going to burst a vein with how red his face is. “D.C.?” Peter repeats. “That was… MJ, that was months ago!”

“I’m observant,” she explains coolly. “And you suck at secrets, loser. Seriously, be glad that no one in high school cares enough about other peoples’ lives to figure it out.”

For a moment, there is a dead silence in the car as Peter stares at MJ, blinking repeatedly. After it’s stretched on for a while, a soft huff of amusement finally leaves Happy.

“Yeah, alright, kid. I like this one.”

At that moment, Happy pulls the car up on Merrick road, making it easy for Peter to hop out. “Make sure you change somewhere they can’t see you. And don’t lose the backpack.”

“I-I won’t,” Peter stammers, though he is still looking at MJ. For a moment, her face heats up. He doesn’t look upset… In fact, he looks impressed. MJ wouldn’t ever admit it, but she likes it when he looks at her that way.

“I’ll see you later, I guess,” he finally says lamely.

“Yeah, yeah,” MJ hums, opening her sketchbook once more. “Don’t get your face melted off, please. I need your notes from the day of Chem I missed.”

“I’ll send them tonight,” Peter finally says. He offers her a grin and MJ relaxes slightly. That’s better.

Peter hops out of the car, and for a moment, both MJ and Happy watch him disappear into the crowd around the building. When he is out of sight, Happy begins driving again, and all is silent except for the scratching of the pencil.

“MJ, right?” Happy finally says, breaking the silence. MJ glances into the rearview mirror to find his eyes fixed on her.

“Yeah,” she says, offering him a nod.

“Where am I gonna drop you?”

MJ glances out the window. “Make a left here,” she instructs.

Happy does so, but he is nearly rear-ended by a hotheaded older man driving behind them who doesn’t want to let him in. After the tense clutching of the wheel and swearing has subsided, ended by a bird subtly flipped out the window in hopes that MJ wouldn’t see, Happy begins to speak.

“So, how do you know the kid?”

“Peter?” MJ asks, and when Happy nods, she considers the question. “Well, I got to know Ned first. And he and Peter are a package, so I got two best friends for the price of one.”

“Best friends,” Happy muses, turning his eyes back to the road.

“You tell them I said that, I tell them that you listen to Kpop when Peter’s not in the car.”

“Point taken,” Happy affirms as he turns. “Where next?”

“Left again,” MJ directs, glancing out the window. “So, you work with Stark?”

“I manage a lot of his projects, yeah,” Happy confirms. “The kid is one of them.”

“Your favorite,” MJ notes.

“What?” he huffs, glancing in the mirror. “Nah, he’s a pain.”

“You like him,” she simply observes. “You two have rapport, even if he annoys you.”

For a moment, Happy is silent. Then, he admits, “He’s a good kid.” More silence. “You tell him I said that, I tell him what you said.”

“Deal,” MJ agrees. They lapse into a bit of silence, with MJ directing Happy until the van is in another part of the city. It is significantly dingier, and as the sun lowers, Happy frowns slightly.

“Where do you live?” he questions, casting a glance on an alleyway that is dark and dingy.

“You can drop me here,” MJ replies with a shrug, sensing his wariness. “I can get home on foot from here.”

Happy shakes his head, glancing back at her. “No,” he says firmly. “Where’s your building?”

For a moment, MJ’s face flushes. This is not a part of her life she was planning to share with someone she just met, and she debates not telling him. Finally, she says, “Take a right.” Happy obeys, and for a while they are silent.

“I’m not going to tell them,” Happy finally says. “And I’m not judging you, kiddo. You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders.”

MJ relaxes slightly, though she is careful not to let him see it. “You can stop,” she finally says instead of replying, pointing to a dingy apartment complex on their left. Happy obeys, and the car comes to a halt.

For a moment, the two sit in silence, and something prevents MJ from getting out of the car. She realizes what it is when Happy says, “Bye, kid. You stay safe.”

For a moment, she lingers, and then there is a ripping of paper from her notebook that causes Happy to turn. Rather than replying, MJ shoves a paper in his hands. Happy studies it. On the paper is a likeness of him, the way he appeared when he was gesturing in her direction.

When he turns to face the backseat, there is warmth in his eyes. “Sappy,” he comments, gesturing to the picture.”

“‘Stay safe,’” MJ reminds him in a deepened voice, pointing out that he, too, had showed a softer side.

Happy rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t seem upset. “Go on. I don’t want any more kids in my car today.”

MJ offers him a smirk, and she obeys, getting up and slamming the door shut. When she turns, though, she doesn’t miss Happy tucking the drawing behind his visor before driving away, leaving her staring after him with a warm tingling in her chest.

Chapter Text

The nature of the friendship changes quickly over the months that follow MJ’s reveal that she knows Peter’s secret.

It’s definitely not a negative change. In fact, MJ loves it, though she keeps this fact to herself. She wouldn’t want the dweeb squad to get big heads… And, more importantly, MJ has always been a little bit wary of scaring them off. Now that they are so deep into the friendship, she has finally been forced to acknowledge the fact that she needs them. She needs them to get through Chem and basically every other class she has with Flash, she needs them to encourage her when she feels like her creative energy has run dry or she is just too tired for the day.

But if she needs them, she has something to lose… So they don’t get to know, then, how important they are to her.

Still, she can’t keep a little enjoyment from seeping through, and it only makes the nerds let her in further. She begins to participate in their midnight escapades, providing a much-needed voice of reason (and often sarcasm) that definitely minimizes the amount of bruises Peter sports as he walks through his day.

She also begins to participate in the various testings of Peter’s ability, some of which actually serve a purpose, such as increasing the damage he does, and others that simply satisfy their curiosity. How long can Peter hang upside down before A) the webbing breaks B) all the blood rushes to his head and forces him to stop, or C) they get too bored to continue? The answer is C, and the time limit is three and a half hours and forty-two seconds. What about webbing? How strong is it, exactly. Answer: Strong enough to hold up at LEAST four cars in the junkyard, and the answer is inconclusive because they couldn’t find a way to attach another car to the strands without creating a new one. It’s not really all that useful, but it’s fun, and MJ is more than happy to geek out with them over it, though she does it much less conspicuously than the other two.

She also, however, becomes witness to more conversations that are unlike any she has had with them before. The name-dropping that occurs is a slight shock at first, especially when names such as T’Challa, Pepper Potts, and Shuri come up. MJ has to make sure they can’t tell that she’s fangirling overhearing the names of her heroes being used so casually.

The most common one, however, is Tony Stark. It’s natural, really-- they begin to spend a lot of time in his labs, manufacturing for the suit, so of course, he comes up more and more. They rarely see him at first, however. He’s a busy man, and Peter makes sure to bring them to the labs at times when they won’t inconvenience the tycoon. However, they’re bound to run into him sometime, and sure enough, it happens on a day that MJ isn’t expecting it.

On that particular day, MJ is working to see if she can improve the elasticity of the web fluid and see if she can make it a better, more powerful conductor for the taser webs. Peter and Ned were initially working with her, but they got distracted with a little bit of coding in Peter’s suit that could be ordered more efficiently. It was only after they altered it that they realized WHY Stark had put it that way in the first place, so almost immediately after the alteration process they were forced to undo it and start over.

“You know, you guys could just do yourselves a favor next time and ask,” MJ suggests as she sloshes around some of the newest batch of experimental fluid in a beaker.

“But if we did that,” Peter retorts, not looking up from his computer, “we wouldn’t have all the fun of trying to remember what the heck it looked like in the first place.”

MJ lets out an amused huff. “You didn’t save it?”

“No,” Ned responds, flipping through a few tabs on his laptop. “We thought we were right.”

“Well, when I was little I thought that I would be all grown-up when I was sixteen. Sometimes, you gotta come to terms with the fact that reality is disappointing.”

“Sometimes, you have to come to terms with the fact that your friend is a smartass,” Ned comments, causing MJ to shoot him a sweet smile.

“A smartass whose new web fluid is going to taser you into oblivion.”

“Oh, heckers no,” Ned shoots. “I am not being a test subject.”

“You’re the tallest. It makes the most sense for you to be,” MJ points out.

Ned is debating this in his mind, looking for another possible solution when the doors to the lab whoosh open behind them. Peter and Ned turn in their chairs, but MJ doesn't bother. Normally, when someone comes through, it is just a shipment of new parts or something of the sort.

This time, though, a voice announces the presence of something different. “Hey, kid, why did I get an alert from Karen that you deleted a chunk of my code?”

MJ recognizes the voice immediately. It’s one she’s heard on TV a million times, the voice that accompanies a third of the ads the hears every day. Sure enough, when MJ swivels around in her chair, she finds herself facing Tony Stark while wearing a pair of safety goggles, gloves, and a smock and coat.

Peter winces, running a hand through his curly hair. “We thought we saw a way we could phrase it,” he says slowly. “Keyword being ‘thought.’”

Ned’s eyes are wide as saucers as they fix on Stark, and MJ is pretty sure her other best friend has gone nonverbal. A little smirk grows on her lips as she looks at Ned, who appears on the verge of passing out.

Stark glances at Ned, and amusement crosses his face, too. However, it is of the fonder sort as he offers Ned a wave. “Hey, kid. Nice to meet you, Underoos has told me a lot about you.”

Peter blanches. “I thought we were done with that name.”

Tony spares Peter a quick glance. “We’re never done with that name,” he corrects, before his eyes find MJ. “Who’s this, your girlfriend?” The question isn’t mocking or accusatory, it’s genuine. MJ’s heart skips a beat, but she is quickly distracted from this by the mortified look on Peter’s face that is both amusing and endearing.

“Nah, I’m his lover,” she corrects, watching Peter’s face carefully in hopes of adding to the embarrassment. “We’ve agreed to keep things strictly physical between us. I don’t do attachment.”

Peter’s face goes even redder then, and MJ’s smirk widens. When she glances back at Stark, however, she finds a grin that nearly matches her own. “You hit the jackpot, kid,” he comments to Peter, causing her friend to shake his head vehemently.

“I-I… Um, no. Nope. No.” MJ tries not to let the emphasis he puts on that sting, even though she knows she set him up for it. “I mean, not that she’s not a catch-- MJ, you’re a catch, I never said you weren’t. Not in a creepy way, though, uh-”

“Loser, stop talking,” MJ instructs. “I’m screwing with you.” Still, something does seem to glow in her chest when he says that. So he does think she’s a catch? Now that’s something she can live with.

Stark turns to examine her, and MJ doesn’t shy away. Instead, she meets his gaze evenly as his eyes scan her face, then the work on the table behind her. He approaches, and MJ moves the papers so they’re more visible to him. For a moment, Stark studies them.

“Hmm,” he muses, running a finger down one of her chemical models. “Experimenting with the conductivity?”

“Yeah, for the taser webs,” she replies. “I’m looking for a way to do that without compromising the elasticity. I’d like to improve it, if I can.”

Stark is quiet for a moment as he examines the newest batch. “It’s good work,” he decides after a moment, nodding with approval. “If you want, I have a few stations for testing voltage you can use.”

“Thank God,” Ned mumbles, and MJ can’t bite back a grin.

“Thanks,” she says, offering Stark a nod. He looks into her eyes for a moment, and the two are quiet. She is the first to break the silence. “Is it true that you’ve turned your energies toward nuclear disarmament?”

Peter’s eyes widen. “MJ-”

“Yep,” Tony interrupts. “Just came back from a trip where I met with several ambassadors to discuss it.”

“And how are your factories powered?”

“Stark Industries went green several years ago. We work mostly through solar panels now.”

“What are you doing to give back?”

“Scholarships and internships favoring the underprivileged areas of cities nationwide, largely. We have many different programs working on decreasing poverty and increasing opportunities, as well as many global outreaches. We also have an extensive grant program, if you want a place on the list.”

“Thanks, but no. I don’t need it as much as some other people.”

For a moment, the two are silent, sizing each other up. Peter and Ned don’t look away.

Then, Tony nods in approval, breaking into a smile. “She’s out of your league, Pete,” Tony informs Peter as he turns to walk to Ned’s laptop.

MJ feels like she’s passed some sort of test, and the feeling of victory sends her spirits soaring. Ned moves aside and offers the computer to Stark, who has the code repaired in a matter of seconds. “There you go. If you want to focus your energy on something that needs fixing, I have some kinks I’m trying to work through on a stealth suit I’m developing for you, kid. You guys can take a look at that; the laptop’s on my workstation.”

Peter perks up immediately, and his eyes shine. “Really? Thanks, Mr. Stark! We’ll get as much done as we can.”

“I expect solid work from you, Parker,” Tony replies, but the words aren’t strict. Instead, MJ can’t help but feel like she’s watching a father entrust something to a child, not unlike when her dad gave her brother his first watch for his seventeenth birthday. Her brother broke it a week later, but something tells MJ this won’t be the case with Peter.

With that, Stark leaves the lab, leaving them alone to their work. An hour or so later, MJ discovers a few flaws in her formula that were made early on-- a rookie mistake caused by MJ plotting ahead as she worked rather than focusing on the task at hand. She is sure that Stark spotted it moments after looking at her formula. Rather than being embarrassed, however, MJ finds pleasure filling her belly as she fixes the mistakes.

He let her find them… He let her learn. He saw through her mistakes and decided that she would be smart enough to learn from them rather than let them hinder her, and that is a greater compliment than handing her the answer on a silver platter ever would be.

Even if it was just for a moment, Tony Stark was her teacher… And something about that lights a fire under her seat as she continues on with more fervor than ever.

Chapter Text

“What is it, loser? You realize it’s, like, five-thirty in the morning-”

“MJ?”

As soon as Peter’s voice reaches her from the other end of the phone, she can tell that something is wrong.

His voice doesn’t hold any of the characteristic markers of Sleepy Peter™, which tells MJ that either he got up ridiculously early or he hasn’t slept at all. The tension in his voice, coupled with the slight tremor she perceives, is enough to suggest the latter.

MJ rubs her eyes with one hand, sitting up in bed. She pulls her comforter up to her chest to keep away the early morning chill, pulling the phone closer to her ear. “What is it, Parker?” Her voice is careful but firm as she listens for an answer.

“I just…” Across the phone line, the voice trails off, and something about it causes MJ’s heart to crack. It is exhausted, but not in the way that one gets from lack of sleep. It speaks to a weariness of the soul that makes MJ want to lift the burden causing it. “I need you to be here, please.”

MJ glances across her wall, mind whirring. “Of course,” she says. “But why…” Her eyes come to rest on a calendar, and when she realizes what the date is, goosebumps rise on her arm.

Of course.

“He died about an hour ago, didn’t he?” MJ murmurs carefully, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. “A year ago.”

There is silence from the other end of the line, and MJ knows she is right.

“I’ll be over there in half an hour.”

Before MJ can hang up, however, Peter speaks again. “Wait,” he says, and MJ obeys, not saying a word. Across the line, she can hear him draw in a breath, and then he says something she isn’t expecting. “Can you be at the Museum of the Moving Image in an hour?”

MJ furrows her brow as she stares at her wall. She is quiet for a moment, but when she finally speaks, she says, “I’ll meet you there.”

“Thanks, MJ.” Before she can say anything else, there is a click and the line goes dead.

True to her word, MJ is sitting on the steps of the museum in an hour’s time. Her sketchbook is out and open in her lap, and there is a pencil in her hand, but she can’t seem to get anything down on the paper, no matter how hard she tries. The lines and shading doesn’t come out right, and so after a while, MJ gives up and turns to people watching.

About fifteen minutes after she arrives there, just when she thinks that Peter isn’t going to show, he does.

To preface: MJ does find Peter Parker attractive, as much as she hates to admit it. It isn’t fair, so she tries to squash the feelings, but that only ever seems to make them grow, so she’s done pretending her best friend isn’t eye candy. He’s got the sweetest eyes she’s ever seen, a mess of rather endearing curls, and in general a dynamic, energetic face that is always so sweet, so earnest.

That said, Peter looks like hell.

There are bags under the chocolate irises that she’s so familiar with, and those soulful eyes are devoid of their usual warm energy. Peter’s face is drawn and pale, and there is something sallow in his complexion as MJ takes it in. His whole posture, too, is altered; if MJ was capable of drawing him at the moment, she would sketch him slouching forward, as if there was a heavy load on his shoulders.

“Sorry I’m late,” Peter mumbles as he approaches, stopping short of her. He leaves a little distance between them as he keeps his eyes fixed on the ground, nudging a stray candy wrapper with his foot. “I… I had trouble getting off the subway.”

MJ nods, not making him explain. She understands, and she doesn’t want to push him. Instead, she leans forward and plucks the candy wrapper from the ground, crumpling it and tossing it into a trashcan at the foot of the stairs as she examines him unabashedly.

“I get it,” she hums. “You don’t have to apologize.” MJ glances around them, however, and she pauses to think about her next question before she phrases it. “I’m not complaining about being here, you know I love this place. But why today?”

Peter swallows and finally looks up at her, and the slightly hollow look in her friend’s eyes causes a pang in MJ’s heart. He runa hand through his limp curls and glances at the building, then back at her.

“He loved it here,” he finally says. “He was a photographer. He used to bring me here, when I was little, and when he died…” A laugh bubbles out of Peter, but it’s empty, hollow, and mirthless. It only widens the tear in MJ’s heart further. “I don’t know if it’s legal, but May and I spread his ashes by the bench we used to sit at.” 

MJ glances in the direction Peter points, and she feels as if she is melting as she looks back at Peter. For a moment, he is silent, and then MJ is standing, tucking the book under her arm and sticking her pencil behind her ear.

“Come on, Parker,” she says simply, tugging on his arm and sliding her own through it. Peter stiffens as she begins to walk.

“What?”

“Come on.” MJ doesn’t elaborate, but she begins to lead him in the direction of the bench. For a moment, his whole body tenses and MJ thinks he is going to balk. But he doesn’t. Instead, he steps closer, his arm shaking slightly against her as she leads him to the bench. She is the first to sit, and after a moment, he follows.

At first, they sit in silence, Peter’s arm brushing against her elbow as he struggles to take a deep breath. When he lets it out, an impulse strikes MJ, and she can’t resist it. Her hand reaches dor his, enveloping his square, clammy hand in her own long, slender feelings. Her complicated feelings for Peter are the farthest thing from her mind as she laces her fingers with his, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. There is nothing romantic about it-- this is pure support, pure empathy for a friend that MJ can’t imagine her life without.

Peter takes a shuddering breath as he looks out over the street, watching the people passing by. MJ follows his gaze, allowing the silence to envelop them until Peter feels the need to speak again.

“I just can’t shake the feeling,” he murmurs breathily, “that he’s gonna fade. They don’t remember him… They never knew him. It’s just me and May now, and if I forget one bit of him, there’s a fifty percent chance it’s gone forever.”

MJ nods, mulling it over for a moment as she watches the people pass. “You’re not wrong,” she admits. Her voice is calm, declarative as she finds herself lightly rubbing a circle with her thumb on the back of his hand, soothing. “But maybe they don’t need to know him for him to be remembered and understood.”

Peter shoots her a questioning glance, and that’s all that she needs to see to know she should forge ahead.

“Maybe they’ll never meet him in person. But he’s responsible for who you are.” Peter’s hand tightens around her own slightly, clinging to it like it is the only thing keeping him from vanishing into a vapor and being lost above the crowd forever. “You are shaped by your memories of him. HIs voice is what taught you to be who you are, what taught you how to be good. His face is the one that showed you who you wanted to be, and it’s what you’re working for whenever you make the right choice, even when it’s hard. Even when it involves running into a burning building in your spandex and scaring us shitless.”

A laugh leaves Peter again, and though it is fractured, this time there is some warmth in it, and Peter gives her hand a squeeze. She raises her eyes to him, and his eyes don’t leave her face as he continues.

“Maybe every time you’re Peter Parker for someone,  you remember him for them. And maybe, by showing them who he was, that’s what keeps him alive. That’s what keeps him here, what carries on his purpose. And I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t sound like a person who’s out of reach forever.”

MJ doesn’t miss the quick droplet of moisture that streaks down Peter’s cheek, even when he brushes it away with his thumb with his spare hand. The hand around MJ’s own is clinging so tightly that it hurts a bit, but not enough for MJ to say anything. Even if her hand was crushed to pieces, she wouldn’t let go for the world right now.

For a minute, neither says anything. They don’t need to; Peter’s hand is telling her everything she needs to know, coupled with the growing warmth in her chest. She doesn’t know what the feeling is, not at first. It’s not a crush, it’s not friendship… It’s something entirely different, something that makes Peter feel like a magnet. She realizes that what she is feeling is pure, simple attachment-- sacrificial, pure, and strong, and the easiest thing she’s ever let herself feel.

It washes over MJ so powerfully that for a moment, she feels like it might brim over. Before it can, however, Peter turns and rests his other hand on the bench, running a finger on the wrought iron handle.

“Thank you,” he breathes. “Thank you, MJ. Thank you from both of us.”

Chapter Text

They don’t talk about the events of that day-- not officially, anyway, and not with each other. But something from there on out marks a definitive shift in MJ’s relationships with Peter and his family, which MJ has learned does not just consist of May, but also of Ned, Happy, and Tony.

May keeps up with her promise of having MJ over for dinner, and she finds herself being welcomed at least once a week for dinner, sometimes twice. Ned is there sometimes, and when he is, the shenanigans are increased tenfold. When he’s not, though, it’s not uncomfortable. May seems comfortable with MJ, and MJ, in turn, is surprised how easy it is to be around May. If the conversation lapses, she can always make a request for embarrassing Peter stories. May is always more than happy to indulge MJ, and for this reason, the conversations rarely run dry.

When they do, it isn’t a problem. Though May is a very dynamic personality, MJ recognizes a fellow introvert when she sees one. When things quiet down, May has no issue turning on a movie, which they all watch while MJ alternates between sketching the characters in their awkward moments and providing assistance on whatever LEGO model Peter is working on.

MJ and Ned, too, hang on their own whenever Peter is on a mission. Sitting in the shared anxiety of knowing their best friend is in dangers is not fun, but sharing the burden seems to be a relief for Ned. She can’t imagine what it was like shouldering it alone, so MJ is more than willing to chill in either Ned’s or Peter’s bedroom, working with Ned to help Peter as each searches for ways to distract the other. It becomes almost a competition, which MJ thinks is the best way it could possibly turn out.

Occasionally, they end up in the labs, where Stark has learned to expect them. Happy, though he always grumbles, is often happy to give them a ride, and Stark drops in every so often. Sometimes, it’s to work on a project he has going, which MJ and Ned are more than willing to help with as sounding boards for ideas. A few times, MJ or Ned even suggests a possibility Tony hasn’t explored yet. Though he’s portrayed by the media as having a big ego, Stark is more than willing to accept the suggestions and criticism of others, which initially surprises MJ. She learns, though, after some time, that Stark is a very different person individually.

Though she won’t admit it to herself, MJ enjoys it; all of it. She enjoys being a part of something, enjoys being essential, enjoys being the best support she can be and, in turn, being supported. She tries to tell herself it’s for practical reasons: it’s efficient, it is mutually beneficial, it is productive. It has nothing, she tells herself, to do with the warmth in her chest that only increases in frequency the longer she stays with these people.

Nothing, nothing at all.

Still, MJ hasn’t thought about how her biological family could impact this new, makeshift group of people that she has assimilated with. The two worlds aren’t ones that even exist on the same plane in her mind, and she doesn’t realize the oversight-- not until it’s too late.

It happens on a night at the end of the summer. She’s not really sure what causes it-- did she start the argument with her father, or he with her? Either way, her brother takes the other side, and it heats up quickly. It’s a battle of words: her father advances, she parries. He feints one way, then cuts the other with a double-edged accusation, and she’s forced to make a quick concession one way in order to meet his other blow. The dance is dangerous, it’s painful, and it hurts her mind more than anything. Just when she thinks she might have the upper hand, her brother joins in, and then it is two on one. MJ is driven back, back, back, until her back is against the door and before she knows it, she’s turned onto the streets at night.

It’s cold, and MJ’s only wearing a light jacket and a pair of loose, cotton sweats. She’s only wearing her battered old tennis shoes, and the falling rain soaks into them almost immediately. For a moment, MJ stands on her doorstep. She doesn’t need to try the knob to know it’s locked, and the helplessness washes over her in a wave so powerful, her knees feel weak.

She doesn’t know what to do, for a moment. This hasn’t happened in months, and she’s so used to going it alone. But the exhaustion of it all drains the little energy she has, and the cold rain bites to the core as she walks down the steps, no destination in mind.

Her feet carry her on, on, until MJ is on a street corner she doesn’t recognize, in the dark, as the rain pours down around her. MJ doesn’t realize how truly sketchy the part of the city she’s in is until she trips over an uneven square in the sidewalk, snapping out in her thoughts. It’s dark, she’s cold, and she doesn’t have anything on her except her phone in her back pocket.

The cold only begins to affect her then. MJ can’t keep the shivers back anymore, and her cold hair, plastered to her face, refuses to stay out of her eyes for more than twenty seconds at most. Each step is getting heavier, too. It is then that MJ fishes her phone out of her soggy sweats, and MJ doesn’t realize what number she’s dialed until it’s already ringing.

“MJ!” Peter greats. She can hear May’s voice in the background, and Ned’s and immediately she regrets calling. They’re doing something, they’re together, and they’re having a good night. They don’t need her problems at the moment. “What’s up?”

“Uh, hey, dweeb,” MJ replies. Though she tries, she can’t keep a strained note out of her voice. “You know what? Nevermind. I forgot why I called.”

Before she can hang up, though, Peter says, “Wait.” For some reason, as soon as he says it, MJ is practically forced to obey. She can’t hang up the phone, can’t say anything, can barely keep the lump in her throat from choking her. “What’s wrong?”

It takes a moment, as well as all of MJ’s willpower, for her to summon the ability to speak. When she does, her voice is breathless and slightly pained. “Nothing,” she breathes, her hand shaking on the phone. “I just… I got in a fight with my dad. It’s not a big deal.”

“Is it raining where you are?” Peter says slowly. MJ swears under her breath. Damn his super-hearing, damn everything about the compassionate bug boy on the other end of the phone. “Wait… MJ, you’re not outside, are you?”

“I’ve gotta go,” MJ stammers in a strangled gasp. She’s freezing, and it’s all too much, and the panic is almost overwhelming.

“No,” Peter says quickly. “Nope, no. Where are you?”

MJ wants to deny him the information, but as her eyes find the signs, the words leave her mouth without permission. “I’m on 75th and 4th.”

“I”m on my way,” Peter says without hesitation. “Don’t move.” Then he hangs up, and MJ is left gripping a slick phone in the light of a streetlamp.

It could have been minutes or hours-- MJ isn’t sure. All she knows is that it feels like an eternity before she sees a familiar sleek, black car covered in droplets pulling up on the curb next to her. The door opens immediately, and Peter is the first one out.

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes widen when he sees her. Wordlessly, Peter shrugs off his jacket and slings it over her shoulders. MJ stiffens at first, but it’s dry, and it’s warm. It doesn’t push the chill away, but it’s something. He gestures to the car, and she gives him a pointed look before sliding inside. It’s all she can muster, and the little bit of dignity she has left to salvage with her dripping hair and thin clothing. Once she is safely inside, Peter slides in next to her, and the door is shut.

Happy’s eyes lock on her immediately from where he’s sitting in the front. “You look like you just got waterboarded,” he comments. However, the sarcastic tone of his voice does not match his body language. His eyes are filled with concern, and they flit back to her every so often. Immediately, Happy turns the heat all the way up and sets it to blast in the back.

“I did. I ran into a few HYDRA agents, they wanted to know where you hid your life. When I told them you didn’t have one, they didn’t believe me that you spend your nights driving around a bunch of teens.” It wasn’t well-crafted, and it wasn’t kind. But MJ was freezing and exhausted, and she needed to retain every bit of normalcy she could.

Happy snorted in amusement, offering her a wry smile. “Nice.”

“Thank you.” MJ attempted to return the smile, but she could tell that it more closely resembled a grimace.

“I should’ve brought towels,” Peter sighs, glancing at her. “Sorry.”

“You should be, Parker,” MJ replies. “How rude of you to upend your night in order to track down your soaking wet friend in a sketchy part of the city. Real freaking selfish.”

Happy snorts again up front, and Peter gives her a look. “Not funny.”

“A little funny,” MJ corrects. “It wouldn’t be funny if you weren’t so damn perfect.” She wouldn’t say it under any other circumstances, and Peter’s eyes widen slightly in surprise. However, he doesn’t address it, probably tacking it up to the cold and exhaustion. Thank the gods of caffeine and chocolate.

“I’m sorry I’m dripping all over your car.” Her apology comes after a few minutes of silence. It’s quiet, though not pitiful. It’s just a simple admittance.

“I cart the kid around all the time. You are not even close to the messiest thing I’ve had in my car.”

“Hey,” Peter protests.

“One day, that big head is gonna damage my ceilings.”

Of course, Peter’s the humblest person MJ knows, and so she lets out a huff of amusement this time. Happy seems satisfied as he pulls up to Peter’s apartment building. “Take care, kiddo,” he says as he gestures to the door. “Mr. Stark wanted me to say hello.”

MJ nodded, letting out a breath. “Tell him I said he should be more creative with his greetings. That’s bland, even for an adult.” It’s not her best comeback, but as MJ steps out of the car, it’s all she’s got. Peter follows by her side as they walk to the building. They are silent as they walk up the stairs and knock on the door, saying nothing until the door bursts open.

May is standing there, peering at MJ from behind a pair of glasses anxiously. She immediately ushers MJ inside, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. “Oh, hon, you must be so cold,” she frets. “Peter, grab her some pajamas, alright? We’re gonna get you a warm shower.”

“I’m fine-”

“I’m not taking no for an answer, young lady.”

Ned is seated on the couch, and when he looks up at MJ, his eyes hold concern. She shoots him a look, and he immediately arranges his face into a stoic expression. “Right. Uh… Who let you in?” he asks, searching for a quip. MJ doesn’t respond; she’s too tired. Instead, she offers him a bittersweet, twisted grin before allowing May to usher her into the bathroom.

MJ isn’t sure how long she stands under the faucet, letting the hot water run over her skin. She still feels chilled to the bone. Right now, everything feels so heavy… She interrupted their lives, all of them. This wasn’t supposed to be how their night looked, and it’s her fault. Something about the fact that she knows she caused them inconvenience stings, and no matter how much water soothes her skin it doesn’t erase the ache.

When MJ gets out, she takes her time drying off. Peter left a pair of his pajama pants and his Midtown hoodie outside the door, which she takes. Her wet clothes are bundled and wrapped in her towel, and though the pants are a bit too short, the dry clothing does admittedly feel incredible.

Finally, when she can stall no longer, MJ leaves the bathroom. She is expecting to see Ned and May, but instead, the only one there is Peter. He’s perched behind the kitchen counter as the kettle brews, and his eyes find her immediately.

“May went to bed, and Ned headed home for the night,” Peter explains, taking the kettle off and pouring it into a mug with her favorite tea, chamomile, all ready. “Here.”

MJ hesitates, but then she walks to the counter and takes the mug. For a minute, she clutches it, not caring that it’s so hot it burns her hands. The silence stretches on for a while, and Peter sips his own tea, peppermint.

The words come when MJ is least expecting them. “You guys suck you know?” She clutches the mug tighter, and she doesn’t flinch as her hands cry out for a little relief. “You let me interrupt everything you’re doing, end a perfectly good night way too early, and then you drive all the way across the city to get me? How the hell am I supposed to top that? By growing my own superpowers, billionaire mentor, and awesome aunt, best friend, and even freaking supervisor?”

Peter offers her a little grin. “Keep going,” he instructs.

He doesn’t have to say it twice.

“You have had the… The best family. But this shit doesn’t happen to me, Parker! I don’t get the awesome friends and the great aunt and a mentor and someone to check up on me, and I don’t get an incredible uncle…”

As soon as she realizes what she is saying, she trails off, eyes widening. “Oh.” The reality of what she’s said hits her, and hard. “Oh, no. Crap. I… I’m sorry, Peter. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Peter doesn’t react, though. Instead, he offers her a slightly lopsided grin. “I know you didn’t,” he murmurs. For a minute, it’s silent, and shame washes over MJ.

“Right,” she mumbles as she tries to process it. “Right.” She sets down the tea suddenly. “I’m just gonna, um… I’m gonna go call my dad.”

“Wait, MJ.” Before she can turn, Peter reaches out and takes her hand, the same way she did for him. “Stop.” MJ freezes, silent.  She can’t say anything, can’t move. She can’t do anything but listen.

“You’re wrong.” She blinks, her cheeks flushing, but he barrels right on.

“You’re wrong. Because you know what? You do get them, all of those things. May loves you. Ned and I wouldn’t be able to do anything without you, and you know it. You’ve said it a hundred times. And Happy? Happy thinks you’re great. Do you know the length of his list of people he would have driven to pick up in the pouring rain? It’s three people. Two of them were in that car and the other one writes his paycheck. And Mr. Stark thinks you’re brilliant. And you’re the one who says that every time I choose good, I’m showing Ben to you. So you get all of those people, MJ. They’re yours, too.”

MJ shakes her head vehemently. Her throat aches from a lump, and something stings her eyes. “I can’t, Peter,” she stammers. “They’re your family.”

He fixes her with a stare so intense she thinks she might melt. The next words he says make her knees weak.

“So are you.”

MJ isn’t sure when the tears happen. When they do, though, she knows she’s not going to be able to stop them. Peter doesn’t freak out, doesn’t act out of pity, doesn’t try to comfort her. Instead, he says, “Do you want the top bunk?”

“Yeah,” she replies after a moment, swiping at her eyes. “Yeah. And these aren’t tears. My soul is leaving my body through osmosis. I need to find another human skin to inhabit.”

Peter offers her a grin. “How about we do that in the morning?”

The little smile MJ offers in return is a bit watery, but it’s fierce, too, glowing with a warmth that radiates through her whole body. Right now, in the kitchen that smells like mint and chamomile, the cold and the fight and all of the barriers melt away. It’s just her, and it’s just him… And whatever else they are, first, they’re family. That’s something that nothing can take away.

“Fine. But don’t blame me if I choose the human in the bunk below me.”

“I’m fine with that, then I can chill out of my body for a while.”

They begin to walk to his room, and MJ can’t help but hold tight to his hand.

“Nah. I’d absorb your soul and banish you to a parallel world. Probably one where the plants are the superior species and humans are subservient.”

“Oh, nevermind. Can I suggest Ned as a preferable alternative?”