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It was his first night sleeping over at her house. Her room was a shade of lilac purple and posters filled the walls so much that you could hardly tell the true colour- but you could still see the purple shining in between the posters she had up. She had cut passages out of books on the civil rights movement, Martin Luther King, Jr., the black panther party etc. It was like a history museum at your doorstep. It was no surprise to Peter though, her special interests were true crime and most importantly activism. He loved hearing about all the stories she’d tell him about the things she was passionate about and if she went to any protests- he’d be there too. Her floors were grey wood and they complimented the walls. Her headboard was white and her comforter matched the walls which laid on the floor where Peter would be sleeping. It seemed as if every corner of her room served to tell you something about her- like her thoughts and feelings on display. He liked it there. Her parents were out of town but they’d agreed to let him stay there that night, they knew Peter and had since he was 10 years old. Michelle was in the bathroom changing for bed. They’d spent the night playing games, watch their favourite movies and eating as many snacks as they could before they felt sick.
“You got everything you need?” Michelle walked into the room, her pyjamas were all black and her hair was still dripping wet.
“Yup. I do.” Peter smiled softly and she did the same back to him. She went back into the bathroom to finish her hair as Peter made a space for himself on the floor with the multiple pillows and blankets he was given. She came back with her hair wrapped up in a bonnet and flipped a switch to turn on the fan.
That’s where it started- the fan. It was so loud and the cold air coming from it felt like needles being pushed into his skin but this wasn’t his house and he didn’t want to ruin anything. If Mj needed this while she slept, who was to say it was wrong? It would be okay and he could tell her about it in the morning if it became too big of a problem for him.
“Goodnight, bug.”
“Night, mj.”
He could tell she’d fallen asleep minutes after laying her head on the pillow. Her breathing was soft and she would turn over and fidget from time to time. It was harder for Peter to get to sleep though, all he could focus on was the sound of the fan- spinning and spinning and spinning and- maybe if he laid on his side things would be better, then he wouldn't have to look directly at it and perhaps that would cloud his mind. So, he tried that and it actually worked, he was fast asleep but maybe a little later than sooner.
_____
“You’re a fake. You’re nothing but a scared little kid. If you were good enough Tony would still be here.” Mysterio chanted over and over to Peter.
He could taste blood in his mouth but he didn’t know where it came from- he just knew the more Mysterio said the phrases the more blood appeared. And every time he opened his mouth it just poured.
“He’s right.” A familiar voice said. It seemed as if it was coming from behind him but he was too afraid to turn around and face what was really there.
“I know you know who I am.”
He gulped down all the blood that was in his mouth.
“Everything you’ve ever done has been disappointment after disappointment after disappointment. I wish you’d stayed gone forever after the blip. That way I’d still be here with Morgan and Pepper- the people I actually care about. Not you.” The voice was closer now- too close. He could hear it pounding in his head and soon he couldn’t think of anything else. He felt like his heart would explode but he would still be alive even after to feel the agony and pain of what he caused...and he couldn’t help but think that maybe Tony’s death was his fault.
_____
“Peter, Peter! Wake up please-” Mj cried, tears feeling her eyes and falling onto Peter’s cheek. He was shaking in his sleep and screaming but she didn’t know why and it killed her that she didn’t know.
Peter woke up but when he did, he didn’t move, he didn’t speak or anything. He sat up and pulled his arms up to his chest and began rocking so fast you’d think he was quicksilver.
“P-Peter, are you okay?” No answer He didn’t even look at her.
“Can you tell me what happened?” No answer again.
Michelle realized he was possibly moments away from having a full-blown meltdown and needed to stop it before it happened.
“Fan.” Peter finally spoke.
“Fan?” She was confused “Like turn it off?”
He nodded quickly and then rocked faster burying his face in his knees.
Michelle got up and turned off the fan completely. She closed the curtains that were letting in the moon’s glow as well.
This seemed to help but moments later he began hitting his leg to the point where it bruised before Mj could stop him and he was going for his head now. She’d done this before with him and he had given her permission to do so if he ever got violent during a meltdown- She took his arms and crossed them across his chest while behind him and start swaying. She made sure to keep tight pressure on his chest. Though it took around 20 minutes of repeating this motion- he had finally calmed down which Mj was more than happy about. But he still wasn’t talking and probably wouldn’t be for a while. When things got like this she’d use sign language instead to communicate with him. That’s actually what they bonded over the first time they met. Both Peter and Mj were non-speaking the first few years of their life and due to this, their parents taught them sign language so that they would have an alternative way of communicating. And with the AAC devices and the Sign language and the Autism, they felt like they fully understood each other.
“Can you tell me what happened, Pete?”
“Mysterio. Tony. I’m not good enough.” She could tell that tears were building up in his eyes once more.
“Is that all you feel comfortable saying for right now?” He nodded.
“It was just a nightmare, okay? That isn’t real, this is real and Tony loves you. He did what he did so that you could live. He made time travel possible for you, Peter. I don’t know what exactly was said but I do know that you are strong, courageous and most definitely good enough. Can I hug you?” She would always ask before because sometimes physical touch was too much sensory input for him.
“You can.”
She hugged him and kissed his forehead. He sunk into her arms and laid his head on her chest. They stayed like that for a while and it was nice and comforting for him.
Without even having to ask, he climbed into her bed because being alone would’ve been too much for him that night and he was scared it would happen again. And though they both slept on opposite sides they could feel the presence of each other and there was a comforting feeling that came along with that knowing that they were safe there.