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“But that’s not all, folks!” Jameson said, and Peter almost wanted to laugh. That wasn’t all? As if that wasn’t enough!
“Here’s the real blockbuster,” he continued. “Brace yourselves. You might want to sit down.”
Then the screen flickered, the display changing to a choppy video feed of Beck’s face, his eyes wide as he glanced half-frantically off to his left. “Spider-Man’s real name is,” he said, tripping over the words as though each one put him in imminent danger.
The video pixellated, Beck’s face disappearing, and Peter waited with bated breath.
The video popped back onto screen, this time focused squarely on Beck’s face. “Spider-Man’s real name… is Peter Parker!”
The display changed into a photo of Peter’s face, and just like that, his world turned upside-down.
He clapped his hands against the side of his head, his mind reeling and feeling like it was filled with white noise, so much so that he barely even registered the massive rise in volume in the crowd below him. “What the…”
Then MJ was there, pushing through the crowd until she was standing right beneath his lamp-post. “Peter!” she shouted, and her voice was enough to jolt him out of his fog of absolute shock and incredulity. “Peter, you need to get out of here!”
He felt like someone had given his brain an electric shock, like it was running double-time to make up for its moment of total blankness. “You need to come with me,” he said, thinking fast.
MJ blinked. “What? No! You need to get out of here, and you’ll be faster if I stay -”
“No, MJ, you have to,” he said urgently, his mind racing and his eyes flicking around the crowd. People were already filming, and a good number of them were staring at MJ. “You’ve already been seen with me, and this really isn’t helping.”
She chewed her lip, her eyes darting from side to side, and he could just see her running the scenarios in her mind. “Okay,” she said quickly, squeezing her eyes shut for a second and pulling a face. “Okay, come on, let’s go.”
His mind was still scrambling through a plethora of situations, everything layered with an undercurrent of shock and dull disbelief, but he forced them all down, laser-focusing all his attention on MJ.
He needed to get her - and them - out of here.
He jumped down from the lamp-post, landing next to her as lightly as he could, and he was only on the ground for a few seconds, but some people still managed to swarm into his space, crushing him with the press of bodies and phones and cries of “murderer!” and “how could you?”
He couldn’t help the pang of remorse as he shoved them away, sending a good portion of them tumbling to the floor with his strength. “Sorry,” he said, even as he wrapped an arm securely around MJ’s waist and readied the other to shoot a web. “I’m sorry!”
There were already more people pressing in, replacing the ones he had knocked over, and he had no choice but to fire the web and send them flying up into the air.
Peter had never swung anywhere as fast in his life, and he had raced through midtown Queens to stop a maniac in a vulture suit, chased an alien through the streets of New York, and fought an elemental on a Ferris wheel.
(Oh, wait. That last one was fake.)
Still, it had felt plenty real at the time - and this was still faster.
MJ had her head buried in his shoulder, making small whimpering sounds as the streets and buildings flashed by - and for Peter, that was just another sign of how FUBARed this day had become.
MJ never made whimpering sounds.
But nobody had ever revealed his identity to the world before.
He almost missed his next shot just from the thought of it - Beck had revealed his identity to the world.
What the hell was he supposed to do now?
Mr Stark would know, he thought almost feverishly, letting out a watery, desperate laugh which the wind snatched from his lips. Mr Stark would know… but Mr Stark isn’t here.
But someone else still is! he realised, and it was like someone had just flicked on the lights.
Tony had always talked about Pepper, about how he wouldn't be able to function without her, about how smart she was, about how incredible she was at smoothing things over with the press.
Pepper.
He would go to Pepper.
He faltered mid-swing as he remembered, his heart twisting in his chest - Morgan.
But the next moment, a memory flashed vividly across his mind - a memory of Tony sitting him down, his expression uncharacteristically serious, and saying, "Hey, kid. I know this isn't exactly easy to hear, and I'm only going to say it once, so listen up. If for some reason I'm not here, and you need someone you can trust without question, go to Pepper. Pepper Potts. Whatever it is, you can trust her. She'll help. You got that?"
"Yeah," Peter had said then, and "yeah," he repeated now as he changed the direction of his swings to the Stark penthouse.
Normally, Pepper would be at the lake house with Morgan, but it just so happened that this particular weekend, she was in New York for a special press conference. (Morgan had complained to him about it over the phone just yesterday, and he had sympathised, saying he really wished her Mommy didn't have to come to NY.)
Now, well… now, he was really, really glad her Mommy had come to NY.
If there was anyone on the planet who could help him, it was Pepper Potts.
He brought them to a stop on the side of the building a lot more gently than he normally would've, making sure MJ didn't bump against anything.
"You still okay?" he asked into her hair, making sure she was safely balanced on the thin window ledge.
"Mm-hmm," she half-said, half-squeaked, her face still hidden in his chest.
"Great," he said, swaying back half a step so he was on the very edge of the ledge. "Because we have to break this window."
"Why'm I even surprised?" MJ muttered into his chest.
His heart squeezed. "I'm so sorry for dragging you into this -"
She raised her head to give him a flat stare. "Just break the damn window, Parker."
Despite the direness of the situation, he had to bite back a grin. That was more the MJ he knew.
"I need you to stand right against that wall there," he said, showing her to the furthest corner of the ledge. "Don't move."
MJ turned her head to look down, then squeezed her eyes shut tightly. "Yeah, no kidding," she said, her voice about an octave higher than usual.
He winced. "Sorry, this'll just take a moment…"
Tipping his head back, he quickly searched for and found the spot that would give him the best leverage. Turning his wrist, he shot a web at it - then swung himself out from the building in a wide arc, crashing back into the window feet-first.
Glass cracked, splintered and shattered, and he released the web just in time to send himself flying into the penthouse.
"Sorry, Miss Potts," he said, picking himself up and wincing at the jagged, Peter-shaped hole in the window, and the shards of glass all over the floor.
Then he shook himself, pulled off his mask, and ran over to MJ, catching her arm and pulling her securely into the building.
She was shaking slightly, he noticed, and her eyes were still tightly shut. She took several deep breaths, as though she was steadying herself, then opened her eyes again.
"I really, really don't like heights," she said, her eyes wide as she looked at him.
Peter felt a whole new rush of guilt flood through his body. "MJ, oh my God, I'm so sorry -"
"Not your fault," she interrupted, giving her head a quick, sharp shake. "It's not like you asked Beck to expose your identity."
The attempt at her usual sharp, dry humour fell horribly flat, but Peter laughed anyway, desperately grateful for something that wasn't this overwhelming shock and guilt.
"Yeah, well…" he said, and let the sentence trail off as he realised, for the first time, that alarms were blaring throughout the penthouse.
Right. Alarms. They had just broken through a twentieth-story window.
It was just another sign of how totally screwed up this day was that he hadn't even noticed the alarms till now - normally, that would be something he'd pick up immediately, what with his enhanced senses and all.
But today, as the universe had seemed keen to prove again and again, was different.
"I, uh, better take care of that," he said, gesturing vaguely towards the door of the suite. "Do you want to sit down?"
"No shit," she said, following him over to the couch and practically collapsing on it, closing her eyes and pulling one of the throw pillows against her.
Peter resisted the urge to go sit down next to her and pull her into the longest hug of her life - he had no idea if they were even still dating, or what, since their first date had ended so abruptly.
He definitely wouldn't blame her if she never wanted anything to do with him again.
Trying to ignore how the thought made his heart twist, he forced his attention to shift to the alarms still blaring through the penthouse.
"Piper!" he called, clapping his hands.
Blue streaks of light in the ceiling flicked on, and P.I.P.E.R. - Penthouse Intelligence Protocol and Emergency Response - said in a cool, crisp female voice, "Hello, Peter. How can I be of assistance?"
"Well, my method of entry was a little… unconventional," he said, and MJ snorted from the couch. "But it's me; there's nothing wrong. Can you turn off the alarms?"
The blue stripes of light flickered, brightening for a moment and then dimming. "Certainly," P.I.P.E.R. responded. His identity apparently verified, the alarms flicked off.
"Thanks," he said, breathing out a sigh of relief at the silence. "Now, can you let Pepper know we're here?"
The blue lights flickered again, then P.I.P.E.R. said, "Ms Potts is already en-route."
"Oh. Uh, good, then," Peter said, feeling as though some of the weight had already been lifted from his chest.
"Peeper as in Pepper Potts?" MJ asked, sitting up to give him wide eyes from over the back of the couch.
"Yeah," he said, ducking his head. "I thought she could help."
He had never, ever thought he would ever see MJ look starry-eyed, but the universe was just determined to prove him wrong today. "Wow," she said faintly, her expression completely star-struck. "Pepper Potts."
Then she shook herself, her gaze turning wry. "Figures I'd meet her this way."
He scratched at his neck, embarrassed. "Yeah, well," he said, studying the elegant wooden flooring intently.
MJ let out a soft sigh, and he heard her get up from the couch, padding over to him on soft feet. "Hey," she said quietly. "I can just hear you blaming yourself."
He looked up, and almost jerked back. He hadn't been expecting her to be this close!
"It isn't your fault, Peter," she continued, still in that quiet, gentle tone. "Hey. Look at me. It isn't your fault. Whatever that madman said on the news - it's not on you."
"You know it didn't happen like that, right?" he asked, suddenly overcome by the sharp fear that MJ didn't know the truth, that she might have believed Beck's video -- oh, God, what if she had believed Beck's video…
MJ reached out to grip his arm, giving him a little shake so that he looked at he'd properly. "I know," she said, holding his gaze almost fiercely, like she had to make him believe her. "I know it didn't happen like that. I know it wasn't your fault."
He squeezed his eyes shut, his mind still half-panickingly racing through horrible scenarios - but her hand on his shoulder helped to ground him.
"Thanks," he said, opening his eyes to look at her, pouring all the sincerity he could into his gaze. Reaching up, he covered her hand with his own, not missing how her breath caught slightly as he did.
"Thanks," he repeated, stepping a little closer -
And then the elevator dinged, and Pepper Potts swept into the apartment.
“Peter,” she said, her gaze filling with an unfathomable amount of relief as she saw him. “Oh my God, Peter, you’re okay.”
He almost wanted to laugh - okay was so far from what he was feeling right now. “I’m… not hurt,” he offered.
Pepper closed her eyes for a second. “Thank goodness for that,” she said, and her voice was a lot softer than he had been expecting. “I don’t know what I would have done if -”
“Miss Potts?” MJ interrupted, taking half a step forward and bouncing a little awkwardly on the balls of her feet.
Pepper’s eyes snapped open, and her gaze flicked over MJ, quick and assessing. “You must be MJ,” she said, and there was something almost playful in her voice as she added, “Peter talks about you a lot.”
Peter spluttered, feeling his cheeks flame. “I don’t… I didn’t… when did I…”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” MJ said dryly, nudging him with her shoulder.
Pepper chuckled. “Well, MJ,” she said. “I’m very glad to finally meet you. I just wish it didn’t have to happen like this.”
The momentary air of lightness that had filled the room evaporated as quickly as it had appeared.
“Yeah,” MJ said, shifting from foot to foot. She glanced up, meeting Pepper’s gaze squarely. “About that. Do you have any idea what we should do?”
Peter couldn’t help feeling a little thrill of warmth at the word we - all his doubts about MJ leaving his life were, apparently, entirely unfounded, and boy, did it feel good.
Pepper, he noticed, was looking at MJ with something that looked a lot like approval in her gaze. She nodded once, reaching into her handbag and drawing out a StarkPad. “I made a list of options on my way here,” she said, gesturing to the couch with one hand. “Let’s sit down and talk through them, shall we?”
“Okay,” Peter said, reaching for MJ’s hand and feeling another little thrill when she didn’t pull it away. They settled down on the couch where MJ had collapsed after their window escapade, with Pepper taking the one opposite them.
Once the grey scatter pillows were arranged to her comfort, Pepper cleared her throat and tapped her StarkPad. “The way I see it, you have four options.”
“Let’s hear them,” Peter said, squeezing MJ’s hand to anchor himself. Part of him still couldn’t believe that this was real, this was happening - but the logical part of him was all too aware of it, and he knew his very life might depend on what Pepper would say next.
Honestly, could you even blame him for needing an anchor?
Pepper nodded. “Alright, then. Option one: you disappear off the map completely. Change your identity, go underground. SHIELD will help.”
Peter swallowed. “That seems a little… drastic.”
“It’s the worst-case scenario,” Pepper said, her gaze full of apology. “I really hope it won’t come to that, but I’ve been in touch with Director Mackenzie nonetheless.”
“When you say you hope it won’t come to that,” MJ said, sitting forward a little, “what are the chances that it will come to that?”
“Well, it all depends on public opinion, at the moment,” Pepper explained. “If America turns on Peter completely, it won’t be safe for him to do something as simple as walk down the street.”
Peter swallowed. Now there was a grim thought.
“But I don’t think we’re quite at that level yet - Spider-Man is very popular, especially among the people of New York, and a good portion of the population is sceptical of Beck’s video. If we act fast, we might still be able to salvage the situation.”
MJ nodded slowly, settling back against the couch.
“Which brings us to option two,” Pepper continued. “We give the media the full truth. We expose Beck as a disgruntled ex-employee of Tony’s -” a tiny flash of pain crossed her face at the mention of his name, and Peter was struck by the sudden urge to reach across and hug her tight. Why had he never hugged Pepper before?
“We tell them Peter is Spider-Man, and that he had to execute the drones to save all of London from being destroyed,” Pepper finished.
“But then the whole world knows who I am,” Peter said, feeling as though a leaden weight had settled in his stomach just from saying the words. “And, anyway - will the press even believe us?”
“There’s no way we can know,” Pepper said honestly.
Well, that wasn’t doing anything for the lead weight in his stomach. “Alright,” he said, swallowing.
“Option three,” Pepper said, her gaze full of sympathy. “We can appeal to the fact that you’re a high schooler. We can tell the whole world that you’re not Spider-Man, and that Beck just went for you because you work at Stark Industries.”
“That might work,” MJ said thoughtfully. “If you don’t know Peter, the thought of a sixteen-year-old being an Avenger is plenty far-fetched.”
“Exactly,” Pepper agreed, giving her a small, approving smile.
“But that way, the world will keep believing Spider-Man killed Mysterio,” Peter objected.
MJ turned to face him. “But your identity will be safe. Everyone in the world will think you’re a high-schooler who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
He buried his head in his hands. “There’s no way to have both, is there?”
“Not that I can see,” Pepper said with a heavy kind of finality.
Peter blew out a long breath. “Okay. What’s the last option?”
“The last option,” Pepper said, “is that we don’t say or do anything. We show them. We let the whole world see how much good Spider-Man does, even if your methods are a little unconventional, and we let them decide for themselves if they believe Beck’s video.”
“What, you mean become a vigilante?” Peter asked, incredulous. “Like that Quake girl?”
“Quake was an undercover SHIELD agent,” MJ corrected. “But, yes.”
“There’s a lot of danger to that option, though,” Pepper warned. “For one, you’ll always have to be on your toes, and for two, you’ll have to publicly save a lot of lives - while still getting away from the scene before any law enforcement can catch you there.”
“And on top of everything else, I won’t even be able to finish school,” Peter added. Okay, maybe it was a little trivial compared to everything else, but still - high school. The whole point of this secret identity thing was that he could still have a normal life on the side.
“On top of everything else,” Pepper agreed. Her gaze was heavy, her voice even more so. “Peter, look - I wish I could tell you without any doubt which option is the right one, which one you should choose, but -”
“I know,” Peter said, the urge to hug her rising up in him again. “Miss Potts -”
“Pepper,” she interrupted with a small smile.
“Pepper,” he agreed, smiling back. “Thank you. For helping me. You didn’t have to.”
“I did,” she corrected, and her smile was sad. “You… you meant a lot to Tony, which means you mean a lot to me.”
This time Peter did get up and hug her, dropping onto the couch beside her and wrapping his arms tightly around her. At first, Pepper was stiff and tense against him, obviously not having expected this - but then she let out a long sigh, wrapping her arms around him too and holding him tightly against her chest.
She smelled like vanilla and perfume and Morgan’s shampoo, and Peter just wanted to melt against her.
“We’re going to figure this out,” she promised him, her voice husky with emotion.
“Thank you,” he murmured into her hair, squeezing her a little tighter.
Pepper’s hand brushed over his hair, smoothing back the curls, and Peter allowed the moment to stretch for just a bit longer as he relaxed into her touch.
Then he sat back, a little reluctantly, and turned to MJ, who was watching them from the other couch, her expression softer than he had ever seen it before.
“MJ,” he said, seeking out her eyes and holding her gaze. “What do you think I should do?”
MJ blinked across at him, truly taken aback. “Me?”
“You,” he agreed, giving her a quick, warm smile. “I trust you. And, besides, you’ve always been better at political sciences than me.”
MJ barked a laugh, but her expression was still a little shell-shocked. “Thanks, Peter. That’s… that’s a lot of trust, though. Are you sure -”
“Yeah,” he said, shifting to the very edge of the couch so he could reach for her hand across the coffee table. “I’m sure. I trust you, MJ.”
“Wow,” she said, shaking her head half-incredulously as she looked down at their joined hands with something like wonder in her eyes. “No-one’s ever… trusted me with anything like this before.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve never known any other Spider-Mans who have had their identities exposed before,” he joked. “Seriously, though - I can’t think of anyone I’d trust more with this.”
It was true. Ned was a great friend, and Peter regretted that he couldn’t be here for this decision - but then again, PoliSci had never been Ned’s strong suit.
MJ, on the other hand… she really was perfect for this.
And from the soft, warm smile on Pepper’s face, he could tell she agreed.
“Okay,” MJ said, taking a deep breath. She tilted her head to the side, and he could just see her running the scenarios through her head.
“You don’t want the world to think Spider-Man killed Mysterio, do you?” she asked after a moment, her gaze snapping back to him.
He shook his head emphatically. “No.”
“Well, then there’s only really one option,” she said. “Option Two.”
“Telling the whole truth?” he checked.
MJ nodded. “Exactly.”
He let out a long, slow breath, trying to wrap his head around the idea. Everyone in the world would know who he was - but at least they wouldn’t think he was a murderer.
“It’s still very uncertain, though,” he said, biting his lip. “We don’t know if people will even believe us -”
“I think I might know a way we can make them believe us,” MJ interrupted, her eyes lighting up with a look he knew well from decathlon practice. It was her I-have-a-brilliant-new-idea look.
“How?” he asked, squeezing her hand.
MJ’s eyes were dancing with excitement. “London is one of the most heavily surveilled cities in the world, right?”
“Right,” Peter said slowly, not sure what she was getting at.
MJ nodded, grinning. “Well, then all we have to do is get into the feeds of one or two satellites, and boom! We have our proof that Beck was lying.”
There was absolute, electric silence in the lounge for a moment, then Pepper jumped to her feet, clapping her hands. “Brilliant!” she said, turning a radiant smile on MJ. “That’s absolutely brilliant.”
MJ’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Thanks, I just -”
“No, you’re brilliant,” Peter agreed fervently, pulling her to her feet and grabbing onto her other hand to spin her around him in a crazy kind of dance. “Satellites! I never would have thought of that, but oh my God, MJ, that’s brilliant.”
MJ was trying to scowl, but he could tell she was incredibly pleased. “You really think it’ll work?” she asked.
Pepper was beaming as she typed away at her StarkPad. “Michelle Jones, this is going to blow them all away,” she said. “I am so, so proud of you.”
MJ tipped her head back, curls flying out behind her as Peter spun her round and round, and laughed. Really, really laughed, the sound happy and delighted and absolute music to his ears.
Looking at her, and at the radiant smiles on her and Pepper’s faces --
Peter couldn’t help but believe that they were going to do this.
The End.