Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peter’s eyes slowly opened, a now daylit room slowly coming into focus. His ears also picked up a rather annoying sound, and it took him a second before he finally registered that the alarm on his phone was going off. Drowsily, Peter threw his arm over to the nightstand next to his bed, grabbing his phone and switching off the alarm. He then squinted at it to find out what time it was: 8:43 A.M.

The realization hitting him that he was due in at the Bugle in less than 20 minutes, Peter’s senses suddenly and sharply kicked into gear as his brain snapped itself out of the fog it had been in moments before. Throwing off the sheet from his bed, he quickly stood out of bed, running over to find something at least halfway decent to change into. He rummaged through his closet and dresser, settling for a nice-looking long-sleeved shirt and some jeans that were still new. Normally he liked to wear something a little more business casual, since he was the Staff photographer, but he was willing to cut himself a little slack today, given his recent.......adventure.

Of course, he did make sure to grab his other suit as well, just in case. It still reeked since he’d not had much of an opportunity to wash it since his return, but it was going to have to do. If nothing else, he’d just apply some extra deodorant, though hopefully not enough to be obvious that he was covering something up. Even after all these years, he still tended to cross that line sometimes.

Peter quickly combed his hair so that it looked presentable, tidied himself up the best he could otherwise, before finally grabbing his camera. Despite his metabolism reminding him of his hunger, he opted against grabbing something to eat, since there were usually donuts and some fruit in the Bugle’s lounge area. He grabbed his keys and quickly was out the door. After locking it, he was about to take off down the hallway, but his spider-sense alerted him just in time for him to stop himself right in front of a redheaded woman who was now right in front of him.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry ma’am,” Peter apologized profusely, though he was already making his way around her, his legs itching to take off as he remembered his work predicament.

“It’s okay,” the woman replied, smiling at him like she was holding in a laugh. He then waved politely at her, chastising himself inwardly for being so careless as he turned around and jogged over to the elevator, which was barely still open but closing fast. Accelerating to more of a sprint, he barely made it in time to slide in just before the doors closed.

As he began his steady descent, Peter allowed himself to breathe for a moment, trying to settle his mind after the rush to start the morning. Really, he should still be good on time if all went according to plan. Granted, that was a ridiculous statement to try and apply to his crazy existence, but one could only hope after all.

Nothing could be crazier than the insane adventure he had just been through anyway: being transported through spacetime, ending up in a parallel universe, meeting two other Peter Parkers (neither of which looked like him), facing off against villains from each of their respective earths, etc. Even now, less than a full 24 hours since his little multiversal excursion, it was still a lot to wrap his head around. Peter’s mind frequently returned to all the ways that its very existence changed everything he knew about quantum physics, the initial singularity, and so much more that had been established for so long it almost seemed certain.

Plus, again, there was the element of meeting other versions of himself; all three Peter Parkers who were also Spider-Man. Despite them not sharing the same look, Peter had been surprised to learn that similar events had all occurred in their lives: they’d all been bitten by an enhanced or genetically engineered spider, they’d all been irresponsible with their powers in a way that cost them their uncles and had lost other people they cared about as well.

It seemed that no matter what universe, tragedy followed Peter Parker wherever he went.

However, all those ponderings would have to come while he was going for a casual swing around the city or something. As he neared the first level, Peter thought back to what his aunt had said she’d told Robbie regarding the reason for his recent absences: he’d fallen and hit the back of his head and he’d suffered a bout of short-term memory loss. It wasn’t a completely airtight alibi, but it was much better than anything he would’ve likely come up with. Its credibility was helped by the fact that May was a medical professional, having worked her way up to one of the head nurse positions at the hospital.

After all this time, Peter thought he would’ve been better at the excuse game by now, and he technically was......but that wasn’t really much of a standard.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The bus ended up making good time, and soon Peter was stepping off onto the street just a couple blocks over from the Bugle. Peter strolled down the street, the fall air and sun feeling particularly good after his brief time away. While New York looked very much the same even on another earth, there was something that just felt right about HIS New York. Everything from the buildings to the subway and everything in between just felt like home to him, and, at least for right now, he never wanted to leave again.

Peter rounded the block, the Daily Bugle building coming into focus. Maybe, just maybe, he was going to make it to work on time after all.

That notion went out of his head as soon as his Spider-Sense went off. His sixth sense directing him down the street, Peter saw none other than Herman Schultz, the Shocker, in the flesh, blasting down the street in his general direction. The man was carrying what appeared to be a large sack of money across one arm. Peter could only roll his eyes and shake his head at his ridiculous luck as he ran into a nearby alley, quickly removing his street clothes to reveal his Spider-Man outfit underneath.

After slipping on his mask, he made his way up to the rooftop, taking his camera with him. Deducing the general direction that his target was headed, he found what he hoped was a good position for the camera, webbing it into place after setting it to the appropriate time. Years of experience at this job had taught him some good rough estimations of such things. Honestly, if Shocker wasn’t one of his more mellow villains when it came to endangering civilians, he wouldn’t have even bothered with the camera.

Still, anything could happen, so as soon as it was set, Peter made his way in his opponent’s direction. Circling around quickly in a way where he could turn him back in the direction of the camera, he timed his swing, so he ended up in front of the yellow clad villain.

“Hey there, Herman,” Peter said, landing on the building his enemy had, causing him to stop. “Look, aren’t you getting too old for this? I’m not trying to be mean; I’m just concerned about your well-being.”

“Ha, actually, I’m feeling better than ever, wall crawler,” the man said, exuding both confidence as well as a strange amount of joy, even for him. “After all, I’ve got enough here to finally retire good and properly. Finally taking you out after all these years will just be icing on the cake!”

Shocker then charged up a blast in his right-hand gauntlet, Peter dodging it just before it was released. The man charged up another blast, but Peter only continued to dodge them one by one, eventually getting a chance to web the gauntlets up.

“Still haven’t learned, have you?” Peter said, leaping forward and delivering a kick to Shocker’s chest, sending him flying and tumbling onto the next rooftop over. He jumped over as well, strolling over to the man to finish the job so he could leave him and the money for the police. He’d thought Shocker might try to make a brake the other way, so he was likely about to come away empty handed, but oh well. The bad guy was apprehended and no one had gotten hurt, so the important things were handled.

However, his spider-sense went off again, and he noticed why: Shocker’s gauntlets started vibrating again like crazy, and soon unleashed a blast that not only freed him from the webs, but knocked Peter off his feet, sending him back to the edge of the building. Quickly he sprang up to his feet in time to see Shocker back up as well.

“Guess I’ve learned a little thing or two after all!” he shouted. “Like sometimes you should just stick to your main goal. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got that retirement to get to!”

Shocker then blasted his way off, flying off the building.

“Now that’s just rude,” Peter said to himself, launching a web to a nearby building and giving chase. The good news was that Shocker was heading in the direction of his camera, so hopefully he would come away with some good shots after all. On the other hand, he also hoped his enemy didn’t get TOO close, should his camera get caught in the crossfire of it all and be damaged or destroyed.

That thing had been expensive!

Peter pursued his opponent, who fired the occasional blast his way. Fortunately, his spider-sense combined with several years of experience helped him not only dodge each blast, but not lose much of any momentum along the way. However, one of Shocker’s blasts struck a nearby building, causing some debris to collapse in the direction of a nearby child, who was too busy playing with a small toy to notice. Forgetting Shocker for a moment, Peter quickly changed direction, swooping in and snatching the little girl out of harm’s way just in time.

“Hey, you okay?” Peter asked, kneeling so that he could be face to face with the young girl. She just nodded her head quickly, her nerves likely still unsettled from the whole thing. A woman then called over and the girl ran to her, leaping into the woman’s arms. The woman made eye contact with Peter as she clung to her little girl; she said nothing, but the look in her eyes conveyed what she wanted. Peter gave her a quick nod before turning and leaping back into the air, swinging back in pursuit of his opponent.

Peter had lost some ground on Shocker, so now it was time to turn it up a notch. Focusing on each swing, he maxed out his efficiency and rapidly made up the ground towards his enemy, who clearly thought he had lost him since he was no longer blasting Peter’s direction. Launching himself as they were both descending towards the ground, he caught Shocker by surprise, wrapping him up in his arms as they both tumbled onto the street.

Releasing his grip on his opponent, Peter sprung off the ground into a crouched position as his enemy struggled to collect himself. With lightning speed, he shot both his wrists forward, releasing a significant amount of webbing at his opponent. Soon, the Shocker was covered nearly from neckline to toe in tightly wrapped webbing. He tried charging up his gauntlets, multiple times, to no avail.

“You’re not the only one whose sporting some upgraded equipment,” Peter said as he strolled over to his enemy, never more grateful for his recently improved web formula than right now. He grabbed Shocker by his feet, tying him to a nearby lamppost and the bag with the money along with it. The webbing would hold long enough for the police to get the Shocker to proper containment, so his job was done.

“Now Herman, maybe you’ll actually consider retirement the right way this time,” he said. “Seriously, prison CANNOT be good for you in your old age.”

With that, Peter fired a web and swung off, leaving his opponent in his webbed-up condition. He quickly made his way back to where he had set up his camera, pulling it from its web to retrieve it. He sifted through any pictures. There wasn’t much at first; only a few of them had caught Shocker, but only from a distance. However, his saving grace was that it got a couple good shots of him when he rescued the little girl earlier, so at least he had some good action shots to turn in.

“Ah, there’s no place like home,” Peter said.

Chapter Text

Peter finally entered the Daily Bugle building. By now, he was very, very late, but at least a couple of the shots he got from the action earlier should get him out of that. As he entered the elevator to head up to the level where his desk was, he was more concerned about if Robbie bought the story May said she’d offered up regarding his recent absence. He thought about whether or not he should at least act like his head was still hurting from time to time in order to make it more convincing. He hated feigning being sick or injured (though often the latter wasn’t actually fake, just his stories), but it was what had got him out of most mishaps regarding his secret identity over the years.

The thing that was in Peter’s favor in this matter was that Robbie was a much, much more understanding boss than Jameson had been. Honestly, if Robbie hadn’t been working there and if Jameson hadn’t respected him so much, Peter was convinced that he would’ve been fired a long time ago. To be fair, the former editor of the Daily Bugle did have a softer side that he could express at times.......maybe once or twice a year, but still, a softer side.

Unlike Jameson however, who could go off at any time (especially if Spider-Man was mentioned), Robbie was as steady and patient as a man could be. He definitely worked everyone in the building, but it was easier to do so because they all knew that he respected them and would never ask anything more of them than he would do himself. He was kind, firm, but also fair, and he seemed to know the name of every person that worked at the Bugle, all the way down to the janitorial staff.

The elevator doors opened, and Peter strolled out, heading in the direction of his desk. Robbie wasn’t there waiting for him, so at least he wasn’t going to get ambushed or anything. He moved to the front of his desk, setting the bag on it that contained his camera within, removing it. He went through and double checked the pictures again, honing in on the ones that he felt were going to be best to use. He was going to have to get to work on them quickly; hopefully that would......

“Hey Peter.”

Peter looked up from his camera to see none other than the face of Glory Grant, the secretary. She had been there for the last three years, ever since Betty Brant had left. He wouldn’t go as far as to say they were friends, but they definitely had a friendly acquaintanceship.

“Hey Glory,” Peter replied back to her.

“Good to see you back and healthy!” she said. “Also, Mr. Robertson told me to tell you to come to his office when you get in.”

Peter hung his head slightly. Glory was definitely being friendly, but he should’ve known she’d be carrying a message from the boss himself as well.

“Thanks,” he replied, setting his camera on the desk.

“Sorry,” she said. “He seemed in a good mood, so I don’t think you’re in any big trouble or anything.”

“Hope so,” he said, smiling at her as he strode past, heading to the Editor’s office. It was on the same floor, but it was on the far side of the large room. Peter recited the exact details of May’s excuse she said she had called Robbie about in his head: he had taken a fall, hit the back of his head, experienced a brief bout of short-term memory loss, etc. It was all good; he had this. He’d only been dealing with making excuses for twelve years now, so there was no reason for him to be worried, right?

Who was he kidding; it was HIM. He absolutely had reason to worry.

Peter peered in through the glass doors as he came up to the office. Robbie had his back to the door, appearing to read something. He decided on a gentle approach, opening one of the doors and giving a knock. His boss turned around enough to see who was seeking entrance into his particular workspace.

“Oh Peter, yes, come in,” the man said, turning around fully to face Peter. “I must say, you sure know how to keep your boss waiting.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Robertson,” he replied apologetically, hoping his respectful word choice would help smooth any issues over. “I know I’m a little late; okay, a lot late, but......”

“Please, Peter, no need to apologize,” Robbie said. “From what I hear, you’ve been through quite the ordeal lately.”

“Yeah, yeah I have,” Peter said, reaching back to rub the back of his head just slightly. The funny thing was, his boss’s words were infinitely more of an understatement than he realized. “But I’m feeling much better.”

“Excellent,” the man replied. Peter then finally caught a glimpse of what Robbie had been reading when he entered.

“Is that a copy of the Globe?” he asked, pointing to the paper in his boss’s hand. The man looked down, letting out a huff.

“Jonah and I may have butted heads and disagreed on a lot,” he answered, “but one thing we did agree on was knowing our competition. We want to lead the way, but we also look anywhere and everywhere for ideas. We look at what they’re doing and how it’s working for them, and see what ways we could be better.”

“Makes sense,” Peter said, nodding his head.

“Unfortunately, the Globe seems to have fallen in line with almost every other major media and news outlet in this country when it comes to printing whatever gets them subscribers and clicks,” Robbie continued. “That is something I never want to settle for. Unfortunately, our numbers seem to be behind because of it.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Peter said. “You always come up with some good headline or find just the right story.”

“Yeah, sometimes I do get lucky every once in a while,” Robbie said, smiling and shaking his head. “Oh, speaking of headlines, I don’t suppose you got a front-page worthy photo of Spider-Man's fight with that Shocker guy, did you?”

“That’s actually what I was on my way to take care of when I got in,” Peter said, nodding his head back slightly towards his work area. “They were too far away for most of the actual fight, but I did catch a couple good shots of Spider-Man saving a girl from debris that was falling in the middle of it all.”

“Yes, excellent!” Robbie said, clenching his fist in celebration. “We’d been starved for some good Spider-Man content recently, so that’ll hopefully get us back on track a little bit.”

“I hope so,” Peter said, nodding while secretly feeling just a little guilty for his workplace’s predicament, even if it was not at all actually his fault. That was another thing about Robbie that he liked though: the man got excited at the success of others. Sure, their success was also his success, but the man seemed to take genuine pleasure and pride in watching those employed under him do well. It was certainly a far cry from Jameson’s way of things.

Plus, he was actually a supporter of Spider-Man, which was always a plus.

“Peter!” came the voice of another entering the office and putting his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Glad to see you back among the living.”

“Thanks, Eddie,” Peter replied. “Always nice to see you too.”

“What can I say?” Eddie said, “I’m just a nice person to be around.”

Peter could only roll his eyes and shake his head at his coworker’s proud statement. A former high school quarterback turned investigative journalist, Eddie Brock seemed to be able to do whatever he wanted in life. He was only a couple years older than Peter, but he had already been married to Anne, his high school sweetheart, for almost a decade now, and he’d already been twice nominated for the Pulitzer in his five years at the Bugle, winning it on his second attempt.

“Thanks for coming, Eddie,” Robbie said. “That’s also why I called you in here Peter; I’m sure you’ve heard of the recent tech robberies that have been going on the last few days?”

Tech robberies? This was what he got for being stuck on another earth for a few days.

“Uh yeah yeah,” Peter lied, nodding.

“Well, after you get those photos taken care of and turned in, I want you to go with Eddie while he interviews people at and around the sites of the attacks,” Robbie instructed. “Maybe between his questioning and your pictures, we can make a story out of this AND provide some answers.”

“We’ll get right on it,” Eddie replied. “Peter, just come by my desk after you’ve got those pictures ready. Sound good?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Peter answered. Eddie then turned and left the room, and he started to do the same.

“Peter,” Robbie called out.

Peter spun back around in response.

“Welcome back,” Robbie said with a smile.

Peter offered a smile of his own in response, nodding before turning and heading out of the office, relieved that this little visit with the boss had gone well. Granted, maybe it was always likely to go that way, knowing how Robbie handled things, but still.

When it came to his crazy life, Peter just never knew.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

By now, Peter had all but mastered the art of photography, especially when it came to setting up the pictures to look good in the paper. Having been on staff as the Bugle’s primary photographer since he’d graduated with his undergraduate degree, it went without saying that he had plenty of practice. Really, the biggest thing was knowing what Jameson then Robbie wanted out of the pictures. That played into how he took the shots while out in the world just as much as it did now when he came back to tweak the picture a little bit so that it would focus on what it needed to.

Peter loved his job, and he was grateful for it. It had especially been nice when he’d first come on staff and actually been allowed to take pictures of something OTHER than himself in red and blue spandex like back in his freelance days. His alter ego still played a huge role in his career (like he did in so many aspects of this city), but now he had experience covering everything from sporting events to political races. He liked being multifaceted and he liked getting to see other aspects of the city that he normally wouldn’t otherwise.

Despite all this, there was a part of Peter that was still wanting something different. He’d graduated from Empire State University with his Bachelor’s degree in biophysics, and just last year he’d FINALLY completed his Master’s too. Those things hadn’t been good enough so far to land him a career in the sciences however. After everything that had happened with Oscorp, he’d been nervous to apply to another large corporation, so he’d focused more on looking for opportunities in smaller settings. Unfortunately, there just didn’t seem to be many opportunities out there right now, and the ones he did try to jump on, someone else either beat him to it or simply had a more impressive resume.

Still, as Peter focused on making his final tweaks before submitting one of his photos, he knew he shouldn’t dwell on that too much. While his Aunt May more than supported him in the pursuing of his dream, she reminded him that he couldn’t allow that pursuit to affect him in his place now.

He was fortunate to work in such a good place, or this advice would’ve been harder to take.

Deciding he was satisfied with his work, Peter closed out his computer and got up, getting in the elevator and heading to the floor where Eddie’s desk was. He couldn’t wait to do something as routine and pedestrian as go take some pictures of a crime scene. It might not have been that way for most people, but for him, it was a return to the normal. He exited the elevator, heading straight to area of the room where the man he was looking for was sitting.

Eddie poked his head up as Peter approached like he had his own spider sense.

“Finally ready?” Eddie said sarcastically.

“Finally?” Peter questioned. “Okay, maybe you do the photography work and I do the reporting? Asking people questions can’t be that hard.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Eddie said, getting out of his seat and coming alongside Peter as they walked away from his desk. “You’d never survive out there. You’re far, far too nice; as soon as you had to ask the hard questions, they’d eat you alive. You’d never get anything like that.”

“Well, I guess it’s lucky I have someone like you to have tag along,” Peter retorted. He’d quickly come to learn that, if one worked with Eddie Brock for a long enough period of time, learning to not only accept his barbs, but also give them back just as fast, was essential.

“Yes, yes you are,” Eddie responded proudly.

The two of them stepped into the open elevator as Peter pondered what might lie ahead.

Peter might have meant it sarcastically, but for Spider-Man, tagging along with Pulitzer-prize winning reporter Eddie Brock could come in handy later on.

Chapter Text

Peter and Eddie’s first stop was a large warehouse in downtown Harlem. It was a place that, if Peter remembered correctly, focused on the storage and transportation of large computer systems. This was, naturally, a place that was likely to attract tech thieves, but offered absolutely no other insights right off the bat. Getting out of the taxi that transported them there, Peter followed his coworker into the building, making sure to have the press pass that hung from his neck, along with his camera, on display.

They came up to the front desk, where Eddie was the one to introduce them and their purpose in coming there. Peter was amazed at how the man seemed to have such a natural talent for just making anyone around him lower their guard and feel at ease in his presence. Maybe he had just judged the proverbial book by its cover, but the lady at the front desk hadn’t exactly looked the most welcoming. However, as soon as Eddie spoke up to her, polite yet confident, the woman immediately said she would make a call, and before he knew it, they were on their way.

The two finally arrived at the office of one of the warehouse’s primary managers, who allowed them to come in.

“Thank you for your time,” Eddie said.

“It’s not a problem,” the manager replied. “I’m afraid we’ll have to walk and talk. I have some things I need to check on as we go. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Eddie replied, and Peter shook his head in solidarity with his coworker’s words. He then followed Eddie and the manager as they walked out of the office and along a railway overlooking much of the place.

“Sir, what can you tell us on the record about what happened here last night?” Eddie asked.

“Not that much, honestly,” the man replied as they continued. He appeared to scan his eyesight in the direction of a unit of workers before continuing: “The truth is, I can hardly believe it myself.”

“Why is that?” Eddie asked, his notepad and pen in hand.

“Well, the security people hardly even saw a thing in terms of the actual robbery, and the cameras were out,” the man replied. “Apparently, they too busy being surrounded and trapped by.......dragons.”

“Dragons?” Eddie questioned, and Peter’s suspicions were already brewing.

“I know, it sounds crazy,” the man said.

“Sir, in this city, nothing sounds crazy,” Eddie replied, “but did they describe anything more? Did these ‘creatures’ go after anyone or anything other than your security team?”

“No,” the man replied, “they said those things just kind of flew around, attacked a few times, then disappeared.”

Yep, at this point, it was almost definitely who Peter thought it was.

Mysterio.

“Would you mind if my photographer friend here got some pictures?” Eddie asked, gesturing in Peter’s direction.

“Sure, but there isn’t much to see really,” the man replied, leading them on. They eventually came to the sight of where the devices had been stolen from, but as the manager had said, there was nothing really to see. No damage, no traces of anything; it was as if the stolen tech had simply vanished, another trick Mysterio was good at. Peter snapped some pictures of where the items had been previously stored, and after a couple more questions by Eddie, the two of them were on their way.

“What do you think?” Eddie asked as they exited the building. “Any early thoughts on our man so far? You are the one with the most experience watching both Spidey and his colorful friends at work after all.”

“It sounds kind of like Mysterio to me, but I don’t think we can rule out other possibilities yet,” Peter replied, trying not to sound TOO in the know.

“That’s what I thought too,” Eddie replied. “I remember reading about him in some of the Bugle’s stuff even before I came on board. The guy seems to have a knack for eccentric showmanship in his work.”

That was no lie; Peter had encountered the bowl headed villain several times in his superhero career, and he had learned two things very early on: the man was a showman, but also was not to be underestimated.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The interview process continued throughout the day as Peter and Eddie made multiple stops around the city, not just to the locations of the thefts, but also interviewing businesses located near them as well. Everything Peter saw continued to point to Mysterio, as everyone he and Eddie spoke to shared about wild, almost unbelievable things happening to them, like the floor turning into sand or other mythical creatures appearing to attack them before disappearing. Peter didn’t get it though; Mysterio wasn’t one to steal technology before unless it was something he could easily fence to make money. Some of this stuff could be used in that way, but not others.

The other thing that didn’t add up was that, normally, Mysterio absolutely made sure that he was SEEN during such dramatic events. Peter had found out that the man was once an aspiring actor who just couldn’t cut it, and it seemed as if every appearance he’d made as Mysterio was to show that he had what it took after all. Often, this was what allowed Peter to catch him in his early days as Spider-Man; the man would frequently go on and on just for show when he could’ve escaped before Peter would even arrive on the scene. In this case, assuming his theory was correct, and it was Mysterio behind all this, the man seemed to be acting with a greater sense of urgency.......which might mean there was someone else involved behind the scenes.

Peter was still processing all these thoughts even as they came out of the place of the most recent theft.

“Well, there isn’t much else around here,” Eddie said, “except that fashion store across the street.”

“I don’t know that they would’ve seen anything,” Peter said.

“Still, it never hurts to be thorough,” Eddie countered, which Peter could technically say nothing against. While he respected his coworker’s thoroughness, he sometimes questioned if some of the steps he took were truly necessary. By all accounts, most of these thefts happened late at night, times when a few of the other places they had conducted interviews at would be closed. This store was likely to be the same, but Peter reminded himself that Eddie hadn’t won a Pulitzer for no reason and decided to ignore any further objections his mind came up with.

Following Eddie across the street, they came to the store, “Madeline’s Fashion,” entering inside. Ignoring the fact that he and Eddie appeared to be the only two guys in the store, Peter walked up to the main counter.

“Excuse me,” Eddie said to the lady at the counter, and he introduced himself and Peter, explaining their reason for being there and asking if he could speak to the manager and/or whoever was last there.

“Well, I’m one of them,” the woman said, extending her hand for Eddie to shake, which he accepted. “I’m Liz Allan; I’m filling in for one of our staff who had a personal issue to deal with. The other manager was the one to lock up last night; let me get her.”

Peter watched as Liz departed from her corner, heading into the store. As he waited for her to return with the other manager, he nonchalantly scanned around the room. While the place was small, it was quite busy. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure he remembered the name of this store being in one of the Bugle’s “Top 10 New Businesses” section.

It seemed New York’s ladies were taking that to heart.

“Gentlemen,” Liz said, and Peter turned back to her, “this is Mary Jane Watson; she can answer any questions you may have. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

As Liz walked away, Peter could only just stare in surprise. It wasn’t even the fact that the woman was extremely beautiful, but he also realized that he recognized her......as the person he almost ran over coming out of his apartment this morning.

Judging by the look she was giving him, she remembered it too.

“Like she said, I’m Mary Jane Watson, but you guys can call me M.J,” she said with a bright, confident smile as she offered her hand to shake. “Everyone does.”

“Nice to meet you, M.J,” Eddie said as he shook her hand, obliging her request. “I’m Eddie Brock with the Daily Bugle, and this is my associate, Peter Parker.”

“Yeah, I think we’ve met,” M.J. said, looking at Peter.

“Oh really,” Eddie said, turning and raising his eyebrow at Peter. “How so?”

“Oh, uh, we, uhm......” Peter stammered out as he struggled to come up with the least embarrassing answer possible.

“I’m pretty sure we’re neighbors actually,” M.J. spoke up.

“Oh yeah,” Peter replied, grateful for her speaking up.

“Anyway, what was it that you gentlemen wanted to ask about?” M.J. asked

“We are doing an investigative report for the Bugle on a recent string of tech thefts in the city,” Eddie explained. “Your business here is just across the street from the most recent one that took place last night. Your friend told us that you were the last one here; did you happen to see anything strange or unusual?”

M.J. looked up, appearing to ponder Eddie’s question.

“Not that I recall,” she answered. “What time did this happen?”

“11:30 or so, by all accounts,” Eddie answered.

“I locked up and left about two hours before that, so it looks like I missed the action,” M.J. said.

“I see,” Eddie said. “I apologize for inconveniencing you.”

“It’s not a problem,” M.J. responded. “Is there anything else I can help you with? Neither of you would be looking any gift ideas for a special lady in your life, would you?”

“Not at the moment,” Eddie said, “but I’ll be sure to tell my wife about this place. Peter, what about you?”

“Huh, oh,” Peter stammered, his eyes meeting Mary Jane’s. “I don’t have anyone really, so I’m good.”

“I see,” M.J. said, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze again, smiling brightly. “Well, thank you very much for coming. It’s not often we have male visitors.”

“Not a problem,” Eddie responded. “Thank you again for your time.”

“Of course,” M.J. said. Eddie then turned to leave with Peter following behind, though not before he met M.J.’s eyes one more time.

Once the two men had exited the building and were out of sight from those inside, Eddie lightly hit Peter on the arm.

“What?” Peter asked.

“Looks like life just dropped you a pretty girl LITERALLY right on your doorstep,” Eddie teased.

“Whatever man,” Peter replied.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“Peter?”

Peter turned to his aunt, realizing that he’d obviously missed something.

“What’d you say?”

“I asked how being back at the Bugle was today,” May said. “But right now I’m more concerned about if you're okay after.......everything?”

“I’m okay, May,” Peter responded, twirling his fork in his spaghetti. “It’s just.......it’s still all a lot to process.”

“I’m sure,” May replied. “I can’t even imagine half of what you’ve told me.”

“It was definitely weird,” Peter said, taking a bite of his pasta, chewing most of it up before continuing. “Seeing these other versions of me that exist on other earths, where other versions of enemies I’ve faced exist too......”

“Well, you’re back in the world you’re supposed to be,” May said, “and your always worried sick Aunt is glad to have you back.”

Peter smiled.

“It’s good to be back,” he replied, “and none too soon either, as it seems I’ve missed a lot. It looks like Mysterio has been at it again, though from what I learned today, he isn’t behaving like his usual self, so I’m thinking that maybe......”

Peter finally looked up to see that his aunt was staring at him, a wide eyed, concerned expression on her face.

“May?” Peter asked, “what is it?”

May rolled her eyes lightly, dropping her head a little.

“I don’t Peter, it’s just.......all you ever talk about anymore is Spider-Man,” she said.

“Well, I mean, Spider-Man is kind of the biggest part of my life,” Peter defended.

“I know that, and I can’t say enough how proud I am of you,” May said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “This city is a much better place because of all the good you’ve done. You’ve saved countless lives and helped so many others. I just worry that you’re not going to start really living your own.”

Peter looked down at his pasta once more. If he was honest with himself, he knew she was right, but he still tried to defend himself.

“I have a life, May. I have my own place, I have a job I enjoy, and most of all I have you.”

May tilted her head, an expression of pity on her face.

“Peter, that’s not a life,” she said, “that’s a routine.”

She really did have an answer for everything.

“I’m figuring it out,” Peter defended again. “You know, just taking it one day at a time.”

“It might help if you were willing to let some more people in,” May suggested. “Even one person could be nice. As much as I want to be there, I had to accept a long time ago that I couldn’t always be the one to be there, and that’s even more true now than it was before.”

Peter nodded; he knew she was right, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually say it out loud.

“I don’t suppose you’ve thought about asking any girls out recently?” May asked.

“No,” Peter said after a brief hesitation, adding with a chuckle, “I don’t exactly have a lot of time for that kind of thing.”

“I know,” May replied, “and I know the other reason you don’t too, but.......just try not to rule anything out, okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, offering a genuine but weak smile. He managed to keep off the subject of his social life (or lack thereof) for the rest of his visit, but the discussion still hung over him even as he said goodbye and walked out the door. Some web swinging would likely clear his head; Peter had found over the years that very little couldn’t be solved, or at least relieved, with a little swinging through the city.

First, however, there was one more stop he wanted to make.

Chapter Text

Peter strolled up his usual path through the cemetery, his legs operating entirely on muscle memory. It was a short trek he had made so often over these last ten years that he could do it in his sleep, and he was pretty sure that there were some instances where he had done almost exactly that. Despite the minefield of headstones in the area, he eventually made his way to the one he had come to see.

Gwen Stacy: Beloved Daughter And Sister.

Peter came to a stop about fifteen feet from the headstone, taking a seat on the soft grass. He had so much to say but struggled to decide where to begin.

“Hey, Gwen,” he finally said, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around the last few days. Things have been weird for me recently; like, even more so than normal. Apparently, the whole theory of the multiverse is true after all, so there’s that. Guess you were right after all.”

Peter had had many discussions/debates with Gwen about whether the theory of the multiverse was actually feasible or not. He was always the skeptic, citing all the different ways that physics and quantum theory couldn’t allow for such a possibility. On the other hand, she had consistently pointed out the small holes in these theories that could potentially point to it being true, which he had always said was a “slight possibility” at best.

Of course, as was the case with many things in their short time together, Gwen Stacy had indeed been proven to be right.......again.

“Anyway,” Peter continued, “I also met two other versions of myself. It was strange, because none of us looked alike, yet we all had so much in common: we were all just kids when we got our powers, we all lost our uncles, we all ended up making a career of taking down bad guys, and we’d all lost a lot along the way.”

Even after all this time, Peter still had to fight from getting a little choked up at the mention of all the people he’d lost at some point in his life.

“May’s still doing well,” he said, changing the subject. “It’s still crazy to me how fast she worked her way up to head nurse at the hospital, but if anyone could do it, she could. Naturally, she still worries about me, just like she did even before she put together that I was.......you know.”

Peter could recall like it was yesterday when he found out that May knew he was Spider-Man. In a way, it had been a wakeup call to how much more careful he needed to be with his secret identity sometimes. To be fair, May did live with him during his first few years as the web slinger, so she had a distinct advantage over the rest of the world, but still.

“As for me,” Peter spoke up, “I’m doing okay, I guess; same as ever really. Still trying to find a job where I, you know, actually USE the degrees I took way too long to get. The Bugle’s still good though; Robbie’s been great, and it’s just a much better place to work than when Jameson ran things. Plus, it just meshes well with my ‘other job’.

Peter glanced out in the direction of the sky, observing that the sun had almost completely disappeared.

“Well, I guess I better get to it,” he said. “It seems like I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I never could leave this city alone for a day or two without something happening. I’ll be back soon though, I promise.”

Walking up to the site, Peter transferred a kiss from his lips to the stone via his hand, leaving it there for a moment.

“I love you,” he said.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Peter released his web, casually doing a backflip in the air before grabbing onto a pole at the top of a building. He’d been on patrol for about an hour, but there wasn’t much criminal activity to speak of so far. The only illegal scenarios he’d stumbled across so far were a man running away with a woman’s purse and a drug deal, the handling of which took less than three minutes combined. Twelve years had taught him a lot about how to handle these things efficiently, and all while getting in some hilarious quips, of course.

All this time with just him and the city hadn’t helped clear his head like he’d hoped though. Instead, his mind kept coming back to his conversation with May earlier that evening. He tried to forget it, but he just couldn’t leave it behind him, and that’s how he knew that she was right.

Peter had tried to come up with reasons to the contrary, like he did during dinner. He really was content with his life overall; he liked his job, even if it wasn’t what he’d dreamed of, and he got to help people as Spider-Man. Few people got to say they made as much of a direct impact on the lives of the people around them as he did, and Peter knew he was very privileged to say that.

Plus, he was all caught up on rent as of this past month, which was EXTREMELY rare. Granted, that would likely change as soon as he needed to repair his costume or build something that would aide him in stopping a bad guy, but it would all work out. It always did.

Still, when it came to his life as Peter Parker, his existence was very........basic. He got up, went to work, ate food, and all the other fundamentals. Sure, he could probably be doing a little more to socialize, but he was just too busy for that kind of thing. Besides, he got plenty of time to socialize as Spider-Man, talking with anyone from scared kids to old men playing checkers at a table. As a bonus, he’d even learned a little Spanish from some of his interactions, so he was branching out!

Yet, all these reasonings were sounding as convincing as one of his made-up excuses for being late somewhere. Thankfully, the police radio in his mask picked up something, so Peter turned his attention to it, welcoming the distraction.

“Security alert: backup needed at a warehouse on Fifth and Chelsea. Guards under attack by......some sort of two-legged bull things! Repeat, assistance requested!”

Two-legged bull things? Minotaurs? Yep, sounded just like Mysterio alright.

Firing his web, Peter launched himself in the direction of the action. He was pretty close already, so it only took him a minute or two to get there. Making his way into the building, he soon found the site of the disturbance: two rent-a-cops were trapped by two large minotaurs exactly as described.

“Hey fellas!” Peter shouted down. The creatures spun to look at him, making low growling sounds. Now that he had their attention, he fired a web in the direction of one of them. If it went straight through, then it was an illusion, and he would just need to find where the device projecting them was hidden. If they were robots, then things would be just a tad messier.

His question was answered as the beast he fired the web at grabbed hold of it almost as soon as it latched on, yanking hard and pulling Peter off his perch.

“Guess that answers that,” Peter thought.

Without missing a beat, he somersaulted in the air to increase his momentum before slamming his feet into the machine's chest, puncturing a hole in it and causing it to fly back against the wall. However, it made a surprisingly quick recovery, standing to its feet.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” Peter said right as his spider-sense kicked in, alerting him to the other one coming at him from behind. With precision and fluidity, he leapt backwards over top of the machine, landing on his toes and fingertips as the machine ran well ahead of him. The two robots turned and looked at him.

“Torro, Torro!” Peter called out. How convenient that he was already wearing red.

The undamaged one came charging first, followed by the other one. Peter performed a powerful sweep kick on the first, sending it tumbling to the ground, before getting the other one on his feet as he moved to his back, kicking the machine upward. He leapt after it, and, once he reached its level, extended his leg as he performed a quick somersault, performing a powerful kick that sent the robot crashing back to the ground on top of the other one.

Just for good measure, Peter fired a web at the floor, drawing his fist back as he sent himself careening back to the ground, driving his fist through the chests of both machines as he landed. The small lights he could now see in their eyes went dark as they shut down.

“Thanks Spidey,” one of the security men said as he and his coworker came up to Peter. “So, they were just robots?”

“Yep,” Peter responded, “oh, by the way, you gentlemen don’t happen to know where you keep any kind of state-of-the-art technology around here, do you? Like, particularly something that might have shown up recently?”

“Uhm, we did get a shipment of microchips that just came in,” one of the guards said. “But what does that have to do with this?”

Peter stood up.

“Where are they?”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Peter made his way down to the basement of the building quickly, eventually coming to the door. He peeked inside where, sure enough, he could see good Ol’ Fishbowl Head himself, collecting the chips with a magnetic device. He slowly opened the door, climbing along the wall as he entered. Mysterio didn’t seem to notice, so Peter gave a moment for his spider-sense to assess the situation. While Mr. Beck had never done quite the same amount of damage as the other’s earth’s version did to that world’s Peter Parker in exposing his identity, Peter had underestimated his world’s version too much early on, almost paying the ultimate price as a result.

His spider-sense never went off, so after a moment, he leapt forward, landing quietly just behind the man, tapping him on the shoulder. Mysterio spun around behind him, looking almost startled in his body language.

“You!” he shouted.

“Oh, don’t act so surprised, Beck!” Peter said, grabbing Mysterio by the front of his costume.

“I thought you were dead!” the man shouted.

“Man, I take an unexpected vacation to an alternate dimension for a few days and the underworld just assumes the worst,” Peter said sarcastically. “Well, now that I’m back, how about you catch me up on what you’ve been up to recently?”

“Sorry, wall crawler,” Mysterio replied, “but I’m afraid you’ll just have to be surprised!”

Peter caught on too late as Mysterio dropped a small square device from his hand. As soon as it hit the floor, a blinding light flashed all through the room, causing Peter to let go of his grip on Beck as he covered his eyes, staggering backwards. When he opened his eyes, he was suddenly surrounded by a tropical rainforest environment, and Mysterio appeared nowhere to be found.

Having been through this before, Peter disregarded what he was seeing around him. He needed to trust any sense except his vision right now, so he listened. His enhanced hearing wasn’t something he used too often, but it came in handy in situations like this. Sure enough, Peter heard the faintest sound of rapid footsteps heading towards the exit on the side of the room. Zeroing in on his opponent, Peter fired a web, and he heard a tripping sound.

“No!” he heard as he dragged his catch back to him. Once he had Mysterio in hand again, Peter located and smashed the device on the floor in front of him, causing the fake environment around him to dissipate and Mysterio to become visible once again. Drawing his fist back, Peter smashed the front of Beck’s helmet, revealing his face.

Man, that never got old.

“Easy, easy,” Beck said.

“Just wanted to look you in the eye,” he said. “Now, where were we? Oh yes, you were about to tell me what’s been going on with you recently.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Beck replied.

“Oh, come on, Beck,” Peter said, gripping the man’s outfit tighter and drawing him closer to his face. “You’re a showman; you can’t stand the thought of people not seeing you when you’re out here doing your thing, which means you must be working for someone.”

“But you still knew it was me,” Beck countered. “My reputation is strong enough now where I don’t need to be present anymore.”

The man’s expression appeared proud on the outside, but Peter could see just the slightest crack in the façade. Maybe he wasn’t that bad an actor after all.

“You see, this whole thing with you giving me the runaround tells me that I’m right,” Peter said, not bothering to indulge his enemy’s ego. “Now the only question is, who?”

This time, Beck remained uncharacteristically silent.

“Beeeeck,” Peter grumbled.

“Or what, wall crawler?” Beck countered. “You’re nothing but a boy scout underneath that suit. You won’t do anything to me.”

Peter clearly wasn’t getting anywhere, so he webbed Beck up, making sure all the microchips were returned. He stayed behind just enough to make sure the pseudo magician didn’t pull off some last-minute miraculous escape as the police arrived, finally satisfied once they took him away. Just like all his other foes, Mysterio likely wouldn’t stay down for too long. The man was especially slippery despite having no powers, his brains and technical know-how generally allowing him to escape even the most secure prison.

For now, though, the man was behind bars, but he hadn’t been as useful as Peter had hoped. He was convinced now though that his hunch was correct, that Beck had been working for someone.

That just left the obvious question: who?

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Mason looked at his watch, gradually coming to accept the fact that Quentin Beck was going to be a no show this time. Despite the man’s tendency towards theatrics, he had previously been reliable these last few days. However, something had clearly happened tonight, and he had a feeling it had something to do with the reemergence of a certain superhero.

Taking out his phone, he dialed a number.

“What is it, Phineas?” the man on the other end of the line asked.

“Beck’s a no show tonight, boss,” Mason replied. “I’m guessing this means the rumors are true about Spider-Man being back.”

“Of course they are,” the man on the other end replied. “Spider-Man is not so easily killed. He and I have nearly a decade of battles to prove it.”

“So, where do we go from here?” Mason asked.

“Come back to base,” the voice replied. “We will have to begin the more serious work on our project now that Spider-Man might be onto us.”

“What about the microchips?” Mason asked.

“Not to worry,” the voice replied. “Mysterio isn’t the only supervillain I have at my disposal.”

Chapter Text

A week later, and things were.......quiet.

Too quiet.

After having Mysterio arrested, Peter had anticipated the next domino would fall a little more quickly. Usually, for every victory of his, it seemed the universe was keen on throwing something back at him quickly, especially when things seemed to be connected. He’d learned to roll with it over the years, even appreciate it in a way. The sooner his next challenge came, the sooner he could overcome it, and ultimately put a stop to whatever was happening.

Whoever the true mastermind behind these tech thefts was, however, they seemed content to hold back for now. The briefest flicker of a thought crossed Peter’s mind at one point that maybe he had scared them off. Perhaps his catching of Mysterio had removed a more vital piece from the puzzle than he thought. Of course, he immediately put aside such foolish thinking; it was much more likely that whoever was behind this was carefully planning their next move, biding their time.

Very few of Peter’s enemies would be so willing to use this strategy, so that narrowed down the list already. However, it seemed like he encountered someone new almost every week, so for all he knew, it could just as likely be someone he’d never fought yet. He needed more hard evidence before he could form a real theory, something that just wasn’t coming right now.

Still, Peter was content with the quiet nature of the city right now. As satisfying a feeling as taking down some big bad was, he found he enjoyed his time as Spider-Man the most when he got to help out in the little ways. Sometimes it meant saving a small business from having their livelihood stolen from them when thieves came to clean them out; sometimes it was helping an old lady cross the street or walking a kid home. With the larger threat not showing itself right now, he’d had plenty of time to do all those things and more.

Of course, this also meant more time to himself as Peter Parker as well. Outside of visiting May, he mostly focused on either his work at the Bugle or whatever upgrades to his web shooters or other gadget related things he was working on. He was especially spending a lot of time on increasing the range from which his spider tracers could broadcast their signal. If he did come on another supervillain, assuming he couldn’t put them away then and there, the next best thing would be to attach one of these to them discreetly and track them to their hideout.

In addition, Peter also continued his search for a job where he could use his science degrees. Though his undergrad and graduate work were both in biophysics, he was open to chemistry and even something engineering-related as well, having a lot of practical experience in this through his constant tinkering with the devices he’d made to assist him as Spider-Man. Unfortunately, Peter couldn’t exactly put that on a resume, and outside of his degrees, he hadn’t been able to get much experience other than a required internship or two that he’d barely completed due to constant superhero interference.

As busy as all this kept him, Peter still managed to find the occasional time where he didn’t have anything in particular he was doing. Granted, it wasn’t much, but still, he had the occasional time in the day/night where he needed a break. Sometimes he would call May, but most of the time he would just kind of do.......nothing.

For the most part, he appreciated this time. It might be the understatement of the century to say that his life was BUSY. Even in times like this, it took some work to actually allow himself to relax. Still, the escape of just watching Hitchcock movies or snacking to keep up with the demands of his increased metabolism only did so much. Peter was finding it hard not to let all his thoughts bottle up inside, and he made a point to only share so much with his aunt. Even after years of her knowing his secret, he was still trying to protect her from worrying too much.

At the end of the day though, with his crazy life, he was certainly not going to complain about a little peace and quiet.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Peter looked up from his desk to see Joe Robertson standing over it, his jacket on and a bag of some kind slung over his shoulder. The way the man was looking at him gave him the feeling he had missed something.

“What?” he asked blankly.

“I asked you if you were doing anything this evening,” Robbie repeated, a gentle smile on his face. If ever a person personified the phrase “gentle giant,” it was that man.

“Oh, uh, no, not really,” Peter said, leaning back just a little but not enough to look like he was slouching in front of his boss.

“Come on Peter,” Robbie said, “a young man like you should be out enjoying his life on a Friday night, especially one who lives in New York City.”

Peter let out a light chuckle. If only his boss knew.

Diverting the conversation, Peter turned his attention to the bag over Robbie’s shoulder.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Baseball equipment,” he said. “My grandson is in little league, so Randy and I are trying to help him work on his throwing arm.”

“Think you’ll have another All-American athlete in the family?” Peter asked. Robbie had always talked proudly of his son, and he often recalled stories of his exploits, especially plays he’d made to win games during his high school and college careers.

“We’ll see,” Robbie replied. “I think my son is still a little disappointed that he’s not showing much interest in football, so I think he’s secretly hoping his boy loses interest in his current sport after this season.”

Peter nodded, his gaze returning to his computer. His mind suddenly began to wonder. Randy was not that far from himself in age, and he already had a wife and son......

“Peter?” Robbie’s question pulled Peter out of his own head.

“Oh, sorry Mr. Robertson,” he said. “Just got lost in thought for a second.”

“Okay,” Robbie replied, a knowing smile spreading across his lips like he’d just read Peter’s mind. “Well, try and enjoy yourself this weekend, alright?”

Peter smirked.

“Is that an order, sir?”

Robbie smiled even as he shook his head.

“No, just a suggestion from a friend.”

Robbie then turned and walked toward the elevator, Peter’s eyes following him for a moment before turning away. There was something about the way his boss had said those last words that struck him for some reason. Something in his voice sounded........concerned wasn’t quite the word, but something close to it. It wasn’t unlike Robbie to sometimes drop the boss man façade and speak person to person instead, but Peter had never really had it happen to him before, at least not like this.

Had his performance been suffering recently? No, that didn’t make any sense; Robbie wasn’t one to mince words when it came to somebody needing to do their job at the level of his expectations. The man was never harsh about it but also wasn’t afraid to speak his mind in this regard. Peter had received a talk about being late here and there, but otherwise Robbie usually praised him for his work.

When May had talked to him expressing her concerns, it had been easier for Peter to deal with, even if it still bothered him from time to time. His aunt was right about a lot of things, but she was also an excessive worrier, even if she’d gotten better at hiding it over the years. He always took her advice to heart, but he knew that this often influenced her thinking. Having Robbie essentially reiterate the same thing to him though.........it hit him differently.

The way he had smiled when Peter had lost focus in their conversation, as if he’d just read his mind.

The overall expression on his face when he said this advice was coming from a friend, not his boss.

Peter leaned his elbow against his desk, rubbing his thumb and pointer fingers against his eyes. This was the second time he’d had a conversation with somebody about his lack of a social life, but more than that, this one also pointed out one thing of his own that he wasn’t sure he could or even should have: a family of his own.

Recognizing his mind was going down a path he didn’t want to deal with again, Peter turned his eyes back to his computer, trying to focus on something other than those annoying conversations he kept finding himself in.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Peter approached his apartment building, heading towards the side entrance. He was less than a hundred feet from the door when he heard the rumble of what sounded like a motorcycle coming up behind him. Not even turning to look, he stepped off to the side to allow the rider to pass. Sure enough, the rider passed by him before turning and parking in one of the allotted spaces. The individual removed her helmet and Peter realized it was none other than Mary Jane. The woman swung her hair back and forth once it was free from its protective confine, turning to him as he came closer.

“Hey Peter,” she greeted warmly.

“Oh, hey M.J,” he said, honestly kind of surprised that she remembered his name just from one encounter that came several days ago.

The redhead dismounted from her bike, clipping her helmet onto it. She then came alongside him as they headed for the entrance.

“So, almost run over anymore girls recently?” she asked. The random nature of the question threw Peter off for a second, but he managed to recover.

“Oh, no, just you I’m afraid,” he replied. “Sorry again about that.”

“It’s fine,” she replied. “If nothing else it makes me feel special that I’m the only one.”

Not knowing how to respond to that, Peter instead turned his attention to the door, grabbing it and holding it open for M.J. She hesitated for half a second, almost like she was caught off guard by the gesture.

“Oh, thanks,” she said as she stepped in.

“Of course,” he said, stepping in and coming back alongside her. They walked towards the elevator, where Peter turned to press the button.

“Don’t want to take the stairs?”

Peter stopped just short of the button, turning back to M.J.

“What?” he asked, as if she’d just asked the most ridiculous question. To be fair, it was kind of random, especially since the two of them both lived nine floors up.

“I just pointed out that you didn’t seem to want to take the stairs,” M.J. clarified.

“Oh, well, it’s several floors up,” Peter defended. “Besides, statistically speaking, this is the safer way to travel.”

M.J. tilted her head, giving him an annoyed but still playful look.

“You’re quoting Superman at me now?” she asked. “Okay, if you want to play it that way, stairs are much better exercise. Besides, it’ll give me a better chance to at least get to know my new neighbor at least a little.”

Part of Peter really wanted to just say no thank you and get in the elevator. It wasn’t exactly like he NEEDED the exercise anyway. However, his new neighbor seemed particularly insistent. Besides, there was something intriguing about her that he just couldn’t put a finger on, and it wasn’t just that she was attractive.

“Okay, sure,” he said, deciding it couldn’t hurt anything to at least appease her just this once. “Why not?” He held the door for her again as they entered the stairwell, beginning the ascent to their floor.

This time, Peter decided to be the first one to speak up.

“Oh, thanks for covering for me the other day to Eddie about how I knew you,” he said.

“No problem,” M.J. replied. “You seemed pretty in a hurry that day.”

“Yeah, I overslept,” he conceded. To be fair, given the circumstances, he was pretty sure he deserved a rest, but that was a thought he would keep to himself.

“I was actually coming back because I realized I’d forgotten something,” she said. “So, I guess it was just bound to happen.”

“I guess so,” Peter said.

There was silence for a few moments before M.J. spoke up again.

“So, anything important I should know about my new neighbor? Do you stay up late playing loud music until all hours of the night?”

“Nono; nothing that crazy,” Peter said, chuckling through his words.

“That’s good,” M.J. responded. “I don’t have an issue with staying up late, but I am trying out this thing called being a responsible adult, and I hear that involves going to bed at something called a ‘reasonable hour.’”

“How’s that going for you?” Peter asked.

M.J. shook her head, squinting her eyes as she did.

“I never really needed much sleep anyway,” she said. “I’ve always got along well with 5-6 hours, so as long as I get that, I’m usually good to go.”

“Yeah, I don’t understand that,” Peter replied. He had powers, sure, but he often went up against people with strength and speed similar to or even greater than his own, and after a particularly rough night, he seemed to need a good 8-10 hours of sleep to recover properly.

He knew it was a poor comparison, but still.

“It’s okay,” M.J. said, a proud smile on her face. “I know I’m special.”

“So, my new neighbor is full of herself,” Peter said in a nonchalant manner, with a little sarcasm mixed in. “Got it.”

M.J.’s draw nearly dropped to the floor.

“Excuse me?” she said with sarcastic incredulity. “I’ll have you know I am a model of humility as well.”

“Oh right, right, of course,” Peter said. “My apologies; I don’t know how I missed it.”

M.J. let out a few chuckles, and Peter turned to see that her eyes were fixed on him, barely narrowed as if she was searching for something.

“What?” he asked.

“You just seemed so quiet at the store the other day, content to let your friend do the talking,” she replied. “Now, not only are you a more willing talker, but you’ve even demonstrated the capacity for sarcasm.”

“I guess there’s more to me than you realize,” Peter replied. He was finding himself pondering her question a little as well, however, realizing it had been a long time since he’d engaged someone in this kind of manner outside of the suit.

M.J. looked at him as they continued up the stairwell, smiling.

“I guess so.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Their talk the rest of the way made the walk go surprisingly quickly, because next thing Peter realized, they were coming onto their level. They walked over, standing in between the doors to their respective apartments.

“Well, here we are,” Peter remarked.

“So we are,” M.J. said. “So, does Peter Parker have any crazy weekend plans?”

Peter shook his head.

“Nope,” he said. “Probably just visit my aunt, get some things done around the apartment, stuff like that.”

“Doesn’t sound like much,” M.J. replied.

“Okay, well, what are you doing?” Peter asked in return.

“Liz and I are heading out into the city tomorrow,” M.J. shared. “It’s a Saturday tradition for us; we basically just head out and see what happens.”

“Sounds very.......spontaneous,” Peter responded.

“Life’s too short not to be,” M.J. asserted.

“I guess so,” Peter said.

There was a moment of silence between them before Peter’s phone went off. He pulled it out to see that it was his crime alert system on his phone informing him of a hold up at a local store. It may not have been related to the tech thefts, but it was still a situation that needed his help.

“Everything okay?” M.J. asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Peter replied, quickly stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “I just, um, had a reminder of something come through, so I better get to it before I forget. It was nice to talk with you.”

“Same here,” M.J. replied, and as soon as the words left her mouth, Peter was unlocking his apartment and heading inside. He discarded his outer clothes piece by piece as he made his way to his room, slipping on his mask before jumping out the window, swinging off in the direction of the crime.

He felt bad for basically rushing off on his new neighbor like that, especially since it was his first real impression on her. He usually felt bad even if it was just some random stranger, and that’s kind of what Mary Jane was. At the same time, it felt like more than that. It was mostly just small talk, but still, Peter had been surprised how comfortable he’d felt just talking back and forth with her, even making playful jabs with, again, essentially a stranger. He hadn’t felt that way around someone in a long time, especially a woman.

It was at that moment that Peter realized that feeling terrified him to his core.

Chapter Text

“M.J, you didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” M.J. replied to her best friend’s inquiry.

“Did you seriously ambush him like that?” Liz clarified.

“I didn’t ambush him,” M.J. asserted. She had just begun sharing with Liz about her conversation with Peter the night prior, and already she was accusing her of things.

“Oh, then what would you call it?” Liz asked, her eyes wide as she awaited the answer to her question.

“He didn’t have to come with me, Liz,” M.J. defended. Her best friend’s head tilted and an expression took over her face that indicated she didn’t believe her. “Seriously, he didn’t,” she continued. “He could’ve just gone up the elevator and left me there.”

“Uh huh, sure,” Liz replied, still seemingly unconvinced.

“Anyway, we actually had a nice talk,” M.J. said, “that is until he randomly got some reminder on his phone about having something to do and kind of abruptly left.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Liz said, “not only did you basically ambush this guy that you’ve only encountered briefly before, but you also flirted with him non-stop all the way up the stairs?”

“It wasn’t flirting,” M.J. defended, almost starting to get a little flustered at her friend’s making more out of last night’s encounter than it was. “I was just being neighborly.”

“With your neighbor that just so happens to be really cute?” Liz questioned.

“Okay, so he’s good looking,” M.J. said, “so what?”

Liz stopped walking, standing there along the street and just staring at her.

“Liz, what is it?” M.J. asked, almost starting to get a little irritated at her best friend’s behavior during the conversation.

Liz shook her head a little at first, like she was in disbelief about something.

“Mary Jane, what is this really about?” Anytime her best friend used her full name, M.J. knew she was serious. She thought about it for a moment, trying to give her the answer she deserved. The truth was that M.J. didn’t know quite how to put into words what had driven last night’s interaction. It was something that had been in her mind for years, something she had wrestled with a lot, but never really expressed to anybody, even her best friend.

“You know how I used to be,” she finally began, “in high school, maybe even worse in college. I was always the party girl, and the life of it at that. And I always had a guy with me, like I couldn’t survive without one.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Liz said, nodding. The sad truth was, her best friend had warned her many times against almost every guy M.J. had ever been interested in, but she never listened.

“Well, after the way the last one ended, I decided to take a good, hard look at myself,” M.J. said. “When I did, I realized I never actually had a relationship with any of those guys. It was all physical attraction and even some emotion, but never anything......”

“Never anything REAL,” Liz finished for her. M.J. looked up to meet her eyes, her best friend’s expression being one of knowing sympathy, like she’d already known all this without her ever saying it. In hindsight, that made total sense; anyone paying the slightest bit of attention to her life during her school years could see obvious evidence of everything she had just said. This was helpful given that it was only within the last few years that she’d gotten better at expressing herself in a deeper way to anybody.

“Anyway,” M.J. continued, “now that I’ve had a few years to myself, I’ve been thinking more recently about what I really want. I think it goes without saying that I never had a very good example in terms of seeing what a healthy relationship looks like, but.......I don’t know, I just feel like there needs to be a friendship there first.”

“Okay,” Liz said. Her tone was different now; instead of the teasing almost bordering on mocking one from earlier, she now seemed to understand where M.J. was coming from, regardless of what she thought of her methods. She came back alongside her and they resumed walking down the street.

After a moment, Liz spoke up again.

“So, what made you want to start a friendship with this guy?” she asked.

“There’s just something......different about him,” M.J. answered. “I can’t really put a finger on it, but even when he came to the store the other day, he was just so quiet, so unassuming, like he was content to not be at the center of the conversation.”

“Well, that would certainly be a change from your usual type,” Liz pointed out.

“It was so weird though; for a lot of the conversation last night, it was like he did a complete 180,” M.J. added. “He was quick-witted, sarcastic, and seemed to pick up on how to push all my buttons. He wasn’t a jerk about it or anything though; he was still the same guy, but it was a side to him that I never would’ve guessed was there at first.”

“Okay now I want to be there the next time you two are in a room together,” Liz said. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a guy press your buttons like that.”

“Not many people can,” M.J. said, turning to her best friend, “if I’m being honest, it’s something I kind of take a little pride in.”

“Oh really?” Liz questioned, sarcasm dripping in her words. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Maybe it’s just something I bring out in certain people,” M.J. replied. “You didn’t used to be like this until I basically adopted you back in middle school.”

“Ah, yes, ever since that fateful group project where I got unlucky enough to be paired with the most popular and annoying girl in school,” Liz reflected, smiling even as she said it. “That day still haunts my dreams every once in a while.”

“Hey, you could’ve always asked the teacher to switch partners,” M.J. pointed out.

“Nah,” Liz replied as they continued walking. “I was still too quiet and self-conscious to risk bringing that much attention to myself. Besides, I always knew that deep down underneath that spontaneous, wild party girl was actually a really sweet, caring and loyal woman in there somewhere. It was just a matter of bringing her out into the open.”

“Yeah,” M.J. said, thinking back to those days. There were so many memories that made her cringe at how ridiculous a person she was. Even aside from all her guy issues, she had also been quite shallow, never really doing much of anything for other people. She’d been far too focused on whatever the next thrilling, even rebellious thing she could find to do.

“M.J, you okay?” Liz spoke up, bringing Mary Jane back to the present.

“Oh, yeah,” M.J. replied, realizing she’d let her brain spiral worse than she’d initially thought. “Anyway, what’s next?”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Peter fired another web, letting himself glide downward through the air before pulling his legs up as he reached the peak of his descent, adding to his momentum as he rocketed back into the Manhattan skyline. The sensation of swinging high above the city never got old, even after all these years. In a lot of ways, it was the best part of being on patrol: just being out and about, surveying his home. Even better, it was nice weather on this Manhattan evening, cool enough where he could feel the breeze in just the right amount as it rippled through his suit and body.

Things had been quiet so far that evening, but for some reason, Peter just had a feeling that something was going to happen before he returned home. He didn’t know what it was, and he had no real basis for it, but he just had this unexplainable sense that something was going to do down that night. It was a feeling that was familiar to him, even if he didn’t understand it. Maybe he was subconsciously picking up on patterns from his years as Spider-Man, or maybe his spider-sense was evolving to some higher state of precognition (probably not, but he thought it would be really cool if it was), but he just knew in his gut that he was going to see some action.

He kept swinging, waiting for whatever would come his way. As he did so, Peter’s mind ventured to all sorts of places, like it usually did. Occasionally, it drifted back to his conversation with Mary Jane from the day before. It had been a long time since he’d just talked with someone like that other than May. Sure, he had frequent conversations with coworkers, but it was different being in an environment where he had to see all those people every day. M.J. being his neighbor might be similar, but there was something just particularly ALIVE about her that brought out a similar side of him.

Most of all, it was just FUN.

Despite that, Peter still got an uneasy feeling thinking about the whole thing, and not in a good way. However, before he could spend any real time dwelling on it, he heard an alert through the police radio in his mask about another tech robbery in progress. As with the others, it was at a storage facility downtown. Firing a web to change direction, Peter arced his body, making a hard turn and heading off in the direction of trouble.

It wasn’t long before he arrived on the scene. He immediately noticed that, unlike Mysterio’s more cautious approach, whoever did this had barged right in through a garage door on the outside. Whoever was heading this whole thing up clearly had multiple individuals capable of carrying out their dirty work, so Peter swung inside to check on who it could be this time. Once he was just inside, he immediately found a higher vantage point, scoping out the situation to see nothing but some ordinary criminals working meticulously to gather and load up what they needed.

“Well, maybe this will be easier than I thought,” Peter allowed himself to think.

As soon as his spider-sense went off, he immediately chastised himself for allowing such a stupid thought to enter his head. Jumping and twisting out of the way, Peter narrowly avoided a spray of green acid just above him. Landing on a stack of containers, he looked up to see a familiar face.

“Well, well well,” came the voice of the Scorpion, leaning on all fours, seemingly ready to spring at any time. “Looks like I get to have a little fun after all.”

“Hey there, Mac,” Peter exclaimed, “long time no see.” Despite his casual, jokey tone, Peter kept his body on alert, his muscles ready should Gargan try to make a move. He’d learned the hard way on their first encounter never to underestimate the man, and he’d found it usually took almost everything he had to take him down a lot of the time.

“That’s because you had me thrown in a hole, wall crawler,” Scorpion replied bitterly, “and in all that time, there was only one thought that kept me going...........crushing your tiny little neck with my BARE HANDS!!”

Scorpion lunged all at once, with Peter only barely avoiding the man as he leapt out of the way. Shooting his wrists forward, he fired two webs straight for his enemy's face, blinding him just long enough for Peter to pull himself back with two more webs, delivering a flying kick with both feet straight into Gargan’s chest. The man went flying back, slamming against the wall.

“AARGH!” Scorpion growled in frustration. Peter knew well enough what the man was capable of to know that blow and impact did more to frustrate him then hurt him, exaggerating the man’s already rough temperament........which was something Peter also knew he could use to his advantage.

“Actually Mac, I’m pretty sure it’s called The Vault, not the The Hole,” he taunted. “It really just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

Scorpion finally ripped the webbing from his eye coverings, lunging for Peter again. Leaping onto a nearby side wall, he avoided his enemy once more.

“Though I will say, I am touched that it was me who kept you going this whole time,” Peter added, putting his hand over his heart. “It really warms my soul.”

“Your soul won’t feel so warm once I’ve melted your skin into a pool of blood and bones,” Scorpion replied, firing another blast of acid from his tail, causing Peter to jump to the floor to avoid it.

“Okay, so first you want to choke me out, now you want to melt me,” Peter said. “I’m getting really mixed messages here, Mac.” If he could just push his opponent a little more, make him just a little sloppier, he could at least pin him enough to stop the guys who were actually performing the robbery. Stealing a quick glance at the workers, Peter could see that they were wrapping up, so if he was going to stop them, he needed to act quickly.

“As long as your dead, it really doesn’t matter to me,” Scorpion admitted, lunging at him again. Peter jumped to get out of the way, but this time not quite fast enough to get away from his opponent’s tail, which he suddenly found wrapped around his waist. It gripped him tightly before slamming him hard into the ground. His enemy then seized his chance, jumping on top of him. Knowing he stood no chance in this position, Peter tucked his legs tightly inward, delivering a powerful kick that sent the Scorpion up into the air, causing him to hit one of the rafters. The man then gripped onto it, remaining up there.

Getting back up from the hard impact he’d felt moments ago, Peter looked up to his enemy, who looked ready to spring back into action at any time.

“C’mon, Mac,” he taunted. “Is that the best you got? Afraid to come down here and fight me scorpion to spider?”

To Peter’s surprise though, Scorpion didn’t appear to be paying him much attention. Instead, the man looked like he was mumbling something to himself, or to someone who wasn’t there. Gargan had seemed to be a little crazy, especially since the process that transformed him into what he was today. However, this looked like something else. What if he was communicating with the same person that Mysterio was working for?

That certainly opened up a whole other issue.

Peter suddenly heard the sound of a vehicle starting and, sure enough, the men had finished working and were taking off with the stolen equipment, driving right towards him. He flipped out of the way as they sped past him, heading for the same way they’d gotten in.

“Not so fast,” Peter said, firing a web at the back of the vehicle. It latched on, and he gripped the web, bringing the vehicle to a rough stop as it pulled against his taut muscles. As he fought to keep it in place, his spider-sense rang out again, only this time, he couldn’t get out of the way as the Scorpion came flying from the rafters above, pinning him to the ground again. This time, Peter’s opponent made sure to pin his legs down so he couldn’t get them up. The man then wrapped his hands around Peter’s neck, squeezing tightly.

He fought against the man’s grip, but it was a losing battle. He could only barely keep his opponent from exerting the fullest pressure against his throat, and it was rapidly getting harder and harder to breathe. Peter could seemingly only watch as the man smiled gleefully, the look expanding by the second. He tried to break his legs free, but the man’s pressure against them was too great as well.

Peter needed to think of something fast, or this was it.

Then, out of nowhere, Scorpion’s expression changed from one of glee to one of frustration, his head turning away slightly like he was listening to something through an earpiece. In fact, Peter was pretty sure he heard something too, though he couldn’t make out what was being said.

“I have him,” Scorpion muttered in response to whoever it was on the other end, “and I’m going to finish it.”

Taking advantage of the man’s distracted state, Peter fired a web at his eye-covering mask again, causing him to relinquish the grip of one hand over his throat. He then broke free from the other hand, delivering a strong headbutt to Gargan’s own, disorienting him just enough for Peter to finally break his legs free, enabling him to force his enemy off him.

With Scorpion still struggling with the webbing, Peter went on the attack, grabbing the long tail of his opponent, swinging him around multiple times, finally tossing him so hard that the man crashed through the next wall. He heard scrambling, but his opponent did not return. When he raced through the hold in the wall to see, all Peter found was an empty room and a broken window. He leapt up and checked, but it was no use.

Scorpion was gone.

At this point, the sound of police sirens drew near, so Peter took this time to make his escape from the scene, getting to a higher position. However, there was still no sign of Scorpion. Not only had he lost his enemy, but he’d failed to stop the theft as well. Plus, he was pretty sure he was going to end up with a headache later from that headbutt.

All in all, not what he’d call a successful night.

Chapter Text

Over most of the next week, Peter continued his investigation in any way he could. Looking to find and capture Scorpion in particular, he patrolled the city as often as he could, especially during the night. He wasn’t allowing much time for sleep, but after so many years, he had largely gotten used to running on what little he could get. Whenever there was a job to do, that came first, especially when it came to someone as insane as Scorpion.

Of all his foes, the former disgraced private detective was by far one of the most worrisome because he seemingly had no moral compunction at all. Peter might consider giving an olive branch to some of his enemies, because he knew they were just wronged people deep down, and he could still see the good in them. With Scorpion, however, there seemed to be no decency left of any kind; the man was a sadist, through and through. Peter tried to keep in mind that it was likely the experiment that gave him his powers that messed with his mind as well, so if he could ever be cured, maybe then he would stand a chance. Until that happened though, he needed to treat Scorpion as the homicidal psychopath he was.

However, that was all a moot point if Peter couldn’t find him. He scoured the city, listened to the police radio regularly, but there was no sign of his long-tailed foe. Given that the man seemed to be associated with some larger scheme, this likely meant that either his employer had everything he needed (which Peter really hoped wasn’t true), or that what they needed next was unavailable to them at this time. To this point, Peter also tried to keep up with any news on technological advancements or anything coming into the city that was public knowledge.

In addition to all this digging on his own time, Peter stuck with Eddie at the Bugle as much as he could since the man was still investigating the tech thefts going on in the city. He kept saying that he just knew there was a bigger story there, even if others disagreed with him. Peter certainly didn’t doubt it, which was why he volunteered to come along as the photographer if he was ever needed, which Robbie thankfully had no issue with, even encouraging it.

As Peter worked so closely with Eddie, he continued to be impressed by the man. He seemed to not only have a knack for putting people at ease, but he always, ALWAYS seemed to maintain an upbeat, grateful attitude in life. In all their hours working together, Peter never once saw the man frown, and he always had a smile on, especially around others. It didn’t seem to be the fake kind that one wears to mask something going on in life; Peter had had too much experience with that himself not to recognize it in others.

One day, they took a break from their investigation throughout the city to grab some lunch, stopping by a cheap burger place. Peter was more than content with this selection; he’d learned to thrive off places like this in the instances he ate out. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d ate anywhere that could be considered “fancy”.

As he and Eddie chowed down, Peter tried to ask the man what his thoughts were based on what they’d investigated that day. They hadn’t turned up much, but still, sometimes other people just see things that another person does not, so it couldn’t hurt.

“You know it’s okay not to worry about work all the time, right?” Eddie asked in response as he took another bite of his burger.

“Sorry,” Peter apologized, somewhat surprised by Eddie’s response. The man was normally so into his work that his answer had caught Peter off guard a little.

“It’s okay man,” Eddie replied as he swallowed. “I’m not upset with you. I just believe in having a strong work life balance, even in the middle of a workday. Right now, the scale is leaning more in favor of life, at least until this burger and fries are gone.”

Again, Peter was amazed at the happiness that Eddie just seemed to exude in everything. It was something he honestly wasn’t sure he could wrap his mind around.

“How do you do it?” Peter asked, drawing Eddie’s attention again.

“Do what?” Eddie asked as he finished chewing, covering his mouth as he did so.

“Find that work life balance,” Peter responded. “Even more than that, you just seem so happy all the time.”

Eddie took a quick sip of his drink, then leaned back in his booth seat, looking up as he appeared to ponder the question. Finally, he just shrugged.

“I guess I just have everything I want, really,” the man finally replied. “That is, at least the important stuff. I have a good job, with coworkers I like and get along with, a decent place to call my own, and most importantly, a beautiful woman that I get to call my wife that is waiting for me every day when I come home.”

Peter looked down, not really responding to Eddie except with a couple of nods. Really, he had two of those three things, and he felt that should be more than enough. Surely the third thing wasn’t THAT important, was it?

“Why do you ask?” Eddie asked, drawing Peter’s attention again.

“No reason,” Peter said. “I guess you just seem so happy, and I was curious as to why.”

“You know, the people who usually ask something like that are the people that are looking for that happiness themselves,” Eddie countered.

“I am happy,” Peter tried to counter in return. Eddie’s tilted head and slightly squinty expression showed he wasn’t buying it. He didn’t say anything at first though, almost like he was letting his doubt of Peter’s statement reverberate back onto him, leaving him to think about it.

“You know what,” Eddie finally said, “Anne and I aren’t doing anything this evening, so why don’t you come over for dinner?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose,” Peter said, waving his hands.

“No imposition,” Eddie assured him. “Anne and I both grew up having people over at our places all the time, so I know she’ll be fine with it. Also, she’s a wonderful cook, so I know for a fact that you won’t want to miss out on that.”

Peter slowly was starting to realize that Eddie wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. Plus, with him spending so much time patrolling the city as Spider-Man this week, he hadn’t exactly made much time to go to the store for groceries recently, and his fridge had been looking particularly more and more empty.

All that to say, a nice home cooked meal sounded REALLY good, despite that he had just eaten.

“You know what, sure,” he finally responded. “Why not?”

“Alright,” Eddie responded. “How does 6:00 sound?”

“Can we do 7:00?” Peter asked in return. “I have a quick errand that I have to take care of this evening.”

“Sure, that should be fine,” Eddie replied. “Anne loves having as much time as possible to prepare a meal, so it should be extra good as a result.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Peter responded.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Later that evening, Peter went off to run his little “errand,” which was a trip to the last place in New York that he really wanted to go: The Bar With No Name. Years ago, he had discovered that there was a secret spot just underneath the railway that was really a watering hole for Manhattan’s most notorious criminals. It was mostly gangs that came to enjoy what the place had to offer, but the occasional super villain would stop by as well. The place had only two rules: no guns, and no fighting.

Yeah, right.

Peter had only ever entered the building itself one time: he’d been in a similar situation, where he was looking for information, and he’d foolishly thought it’d be fine to go in there, even though he knew he’d stick out like a sore thumb. Surely, they’d eye him, but go back to their own business, right?

Nope.

Instead, a fight broke out in the bar that lasted almost an entire day. It got so bad that Peter had had to break up people who weren’t even fighting him, but rather the guy next to them, some of them even coming close to killing each other. By the time it was over, he was pretty sure half of them didn’t even know why they’d been fighting in the first place.

In hindsight, Peter couldn’t believe how ridiculously naïve he had been that day. Having learned his lesson, however, he was going to try a more secretive way in: the ventilation system. This had become his go to way to get into a place he normally shouldn’t be in, so long as it was large enough for him to fit. Thankfully, that was the case here, so, after carefully coming around the side of the building when no one was around, he sneakily entered through the main path just above the door.

Peter crawled through the area just above the main room, doing his best to stay low. The vent could be seen into a little, but thankfully, nobody seemed to care to look up. He made it into a more hidden area, from which he continued to scour the building. He was looking for the bar’s owner, a man by the name of Blackie Gaxton. From the info Peter had gathered over the years, Blackie Gaxton was a former mobster who had opted to open The Bar With No Name as means to be able to deal with all members of the mob, and not just one group or “family” as they often called themselves.

The bottom line was that, if anyone had insider information on anything going on in the criminal underworld, it would be this man. He seemingly had his hands in almost everything, at least if his reputation held up.

Finally, Peter came to a spot just above what looked like an office space, where he saw a man sitting at a desk, talking to another man. He listened in, eventually hearing the other guy in the room say, “Thanks Blackie,” at one point, which told him all he needed to know. Waiting patiently for the other guy to leave the room, Peter popped open the ventilation shaft seal, dropping in. The man instantly stood up from his seat and drew a gun, but Peter quickly disarmed him, snatching the gun from his hands before he’d even fully brought it up.

“You!” Blackie shouted in a thick but classic New York mobster accent. “What are you doing here?”

“First off, how rude a way to greet your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man,” Peter said, waving the gun back and forth before setting it back down as he came to the other side of the man’s desk. “Second, I’m not here to try to bring you in. I need some information, and I think you have it.”

Blackie let out a series of chuckles and he sat back in his seat, rotating it to face Peter. He didn’t even bother to pick up the gun again, suddenly seeming completely at ease as a smile spread over his face.

“So,” the man said, “the local wall crawler has stopped by for a friendly little chat, has he?”

“Rumor has it that you know everything when it comes to the New York underworld,” Peter said nonchalantly. “That true?”

Blackie leaned forward, folding his hands together and sitting them on his desk.

“Only if they want me to know,” he replied. “Plus, I hear things now and then.”

“Then you can tell me who's behind the recent tech thefts,” Peter insinuated.

“Oh yes, certainly,” the man replied, “but I’m not going to.”

“C’mon, Blackie,” Peter said in mock pleading. “It’ll be our little secret.”

“Bahahaha!” Blackie cackled loudly. “You.......I’ll tell you what, wall crawler, you have some guts coming back in here after that stunt you pulled a few years ago.”

“You do have security cameras, right?” Peter replied, pointing behind him. “You have to know I didn’t start that fight.”

“Right, like having New York’s biggest thorn in the underworld’s side in house wouldn’t be seen as a prime opportunity for anyone in here,” Blackie countered.

Peter placed his fingers on the desk, leaning towards the man.

“You’re not making this very easy for me, Blackie,” he stated, trying to sound casually menacing, if that was even a thing.

“Oh?” the man replied, leaning forward to meet him head on, “and what’s Ol’ Webs going to do if I clam up? Your reputation speaks for itself; you don’t have what it takes to make me shake in my boots. So, why don’t you just run along, and I’ll pretend this little rendezvous never happened. We’ll call it our little secret.”

Peter stood up straight, his fists starting to clench in frustration. He knew the man was right though; Spider-Man was very rarely the type to use intimidation, and everyone knew it. He didn’t know what he expected in coming here, but his bluff had been called.

Disappointed and a bit upset, Peter ignored the smug look on Blackie’s face and disappeared back through the ventilation shaft, making his way out of the building and swinging off.

Chapter Text

Stepping off the bus, Peter turned in the direction Eddie and Anne’s house was supposed to be. It turned out that Eddie commuted from Queens, a place all too familiar to him, having been raised there almost his whole life. Even though he had moved to Manhattan after college, Peter could still walk the streets of Forest Hills in his sleep. All it took was one glance at the address Eddie had given him earlier for him to have a solid idea of where he needed to go.

Peter was really hoping whatever Eddie’s wife was making for dinner helped remove a bit of the sting of his unsuccessful Spidey outing earlier. He was still chastising himself for not going in with a better plan. Basically, all he thought to do was to go in, ask nicely, and if that didn’t work (he hadn’t exactly counted on it), then he would find another way to get it out of him. Unfortunately, Blackie had called his bluff before he’d even had a chance to really come up with one. Peter could count on one hand the number of times he’d ever tried to intimidate someone into giving him information, and only a couple of those times had it worked.

He’d probably gotten lucky in those instances, as they had likely just wanted to get out of spending too much time in jail. Anyone willing to take a moment to think likely knew better though: Spider-Man was not one to resort to brutalizing or torturing people. In short, Peter was going to have to find someone with a little less spine to give him the information he needed to get his first true lead in this mysterious case.

But that was enough about that, at least for now. Peter finally came up to the house, recognizing the number he’d been told to look for. From the outside, the home appeared to be the same as most other houses in the neighborhood: a modest but still well put together two-story home, with what he guessed was at least two bedrooms, maybe three, in the upstairs area. It was a little bigger than the home Peter had grown up in with his aunt and uncle, though not by too much.

Right now, however, it still felt like a far cry from anything he could afford.

Walking up to the front door, Peter reached up, pressing the button to ring the doorbell. He took a step back, waiting patiently for someone to open it. When nobody answered after a moment, he decided to give it another try, pressing the button a second time.

“Coming!” came a woman’s shout from inside. Peter could hear rapid footsteps as the individual approached the door, and it finally opened to reveal a woman with dark blond hair and brown eyes.

“Ah, you must be Peter,” the woman said. “I’m Anne, Eddie’s wife. Please, come in.”

“Thank you,” Peter responded politely, stepping into the home.

“Eddie, our guest is here!” Anne exclaimed as she moved past Peter after closing the door. “You’ll have to excuse us; things have been a little crazy today. I got home late from work, so Eddie had gotten the food going, but in doing so, he missed his precious early evening workout, so he tried to squeeze it in quick before you got here. He’s in the shower now, but he should be finishing up.”

“It’s fine,” Peter assured her as he followed her into the dining room. “I understand Eddie was a great athlete in high school.”

“Yep, and he’s made sure to stay in shape ever since, even though he doesn’t play anymore,” Anne replied. “I’m pretty sure he hasn’t missed a workout in at least a year.”

“Wow, that’s impressive,” Peter said. He didn’t exactly have a lot of time for hobbies like working out, but even if he did, he couldn’t imagine having the discipline, much less the opportunity, to keep up such a rigorous endeavor, even with his powers.

Suddenly, some quick but hard footsteps could be heard descending down the stairs, and Peter turned to see Eddie pop out from behind him, wearing a casual pair of jeans and a New York Knicks t-shirt.

“So sorry for the delay,” the man said. “No offense, but I was counting on your tendency to be a bit late to things.”

“Eddie!” Anne spoke up from the kitchen. “At least try to be nice to our houseguest, please?”

“It’s really fine, ma’am,” Peter responded.

“By the way,” Eddie added, “whatever she’s told you about me while you guys were down here, it’s probably right. To be honest, I still don’t know what I did to end up with this beautiful woman.”

Eddie then walked over to the kitchen, giving his wife a kiss on top of her head, prompting a close-lipped smile from the woman. The couple then finished gathering the food, soon bringing out a MASSIVE lasagna and other Italian style foods. If it was all as good as it looked and smelled, Peter felt he was in for a treat.

They all sat down at the table, and Eddie, in keeping with being the devout Catholic everyone at the Bugle knew him to be, said a quick prayer of blessing of the food, and they all dug in soon afterward. Peter was initially getting a smaller piece of lasagna, fearing being rude and getting too big a chunk, even despite the size it was.

“Peter,” Anne spoke up, “please, there’s plenty. I’m sure you must be hungry.”

Giving a small nod to the woman in affirmation, Peter decided to oblige her, recutting a larger piece of the lasagna and setting it on his plate. He then took his fork and cut out a modest but still decent bite, inserting it into his mouth.

It was delicious.

“Wow,” Peter said as he finished chewing, swallowing before adding, “this is really good.”

“Thank you,” Anne replied, “I’ve been working on the recipe for a long time actually.”

“See, I told you,” Eddie chimed in before taking his own big bite. He closed his eyes, appearing to savor every bit of it.

For a while, the three continued eating, before Anne spoke up again.

“So, Peter, tell us about yourself. Eddie mentions you here and there, but mostly just as it pertains to work.”

“I’m afraid there’s not much to tell really,” Peter said before taking another bite of the delicious cheesy goodness.

“Well first of all, he’s the Bugle’s resident genius,” Eddie bragged. “He actually has fixed my computer a couple times when our IT guys couldn’t figure it out. If he wasn’t such a good photographer, I’d tell him to just take their job.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Peter said. He appreciated what Eddie had to say, but he had never been one to want a lot of attention brought to him, even if it was about good things.

“So, you’re good with technology?” Anne asked for further clarity.

“I’d say so,” Peter conceded. “I’ve been messing with computers and stuff for years, so I learned through trial and error a lot.”

“Didn’t you say that your degree was in some area of science too?” Eddie asked.

“Biophysics,” Peter clarified.

“Wow,” Anne said, “what does one do with such a degree?”

“Still trying to figure that out to be honest,” Peter admitted. “I just know I want to do something that will help as many people as I can.”

“That’d be nice,” Eddie remarked, “since it seems like, outside of Spider-Man, most science related things in this city seem to do nothing but create megalomaniacs and doomsday weapons.”

Peter didn’t respond verbally, but he had to agree with Eddie’s sentiment. It seemed like even those with good intentions ended up on the wrong side of history in this city when it came to trying to make scientific breakthroughs. Even a lot of the criminals he would consider more on the side of “normal” still had technological enhancements to aid them in their crimes, which they had to either have made themselves or got from somewhere. Sometimes, it almost felt like New York City was just cursed to be this way.

“You said earlier you got home late from work,” Peter spoke up to Anne, “where do you work at?”

“I’m an assistant District Attorney actually,” Anne responded.

“Wow, what’s that like?” Peter asked. “I have to imagine being in a position like that in this city would be crazy.”

“I’ve definitely seen a lot,” the woman replied.

“She’s got plenty of good stories,” Eddie added. “It seems like she comes home every day with something new. I keep telling her that she should go back to trying to open her own firm, but she insists on staying.”

“Working in the DA’s office is my way to help the city right now,” Anne explained. Her voice was a little sterner than before, giving Peter the impression that this wasn’t the first time these two had had a conversation on this topic.

“I know,” Eddie replied before turning to Peter. “You’ll have to excuse me, sometimes my overprotective husband tendencies spontaneously surface.”

“How did you two meet anyway?” Peter asked. “I know you guys met in high school.”

“Yep,” Eddie confirmed. “I was the starting quarterback of the football team, and she was the spunky school journalist who was NOT impressed........at least at first.”

“He seemed like exactly the type that my dad warned me about at first,” Anne admitted. “He always told me to avoid the jocks in school because they ‘only think about girls and sports’, and especially football players. But then, Eddie did something very unexpected.”

“What was that?” Peter asked.

“He joined the school journalism club,” Anne said.

“Yep,” Eddie confirmed. “It wasn’t easy trying to balance doing a school sport AND another extracurricular activity, but I had to do SOMETHING to get her to come around.”

“We started dating late senior year, and during our college years, he finally won my dad over enough to get his blessing to propose,” Anne said. “I’ll admit, even when we started dating, I thought there was no way that was ever going to happen.”

“You always did underestimate me, dear,” Eddie said with a cheeky smile.

“Uh huh,” Anne replied, each of those little words dripping with sarcasm. She then turned back to Peter. “What about you? Anyone special?”

Peter’s voice caught in his throat in response to the question. Really, he should’ve guessed that this topic would come up, but instead he found himself caught off guard.

“No,” he finally replied. “No one special.”

“Have you talked to that pretty redhead neighbor of yours yet?” Eddie asked, before turning to his wife to explain. “We met this store owner while we were doing interviews one day who recognized him from living in the same building.”

“I talked to her once, but haven’t seen her much otherwise since,” Peter admitted.

“She seemed nice man, you should try and get to know her a little,” Eddie urged. “You never know what can happen.”

“Leave him alone, Eddie,” Anne said. “Maybe he’s already in love with someone else.”

“No, nothing like that,” Peter replied, chuckling nervously, “it’s just that, well.......I haven’t had the best luck with girls in the past.”

“You?” Eddie questioned. “That’s hard to imagine. You’re nice, you always hold the door for the ladies at the Bugle, and everyone there seems to at least respect you. What, did you have a rebellious streak in high school?”

“Kind of,” Peter conceded, “but that’s not......there was a girl once, but uhm........I lost her.”

“What happened?” Anne asked, “that is, if I may ask. Did she move away for school or something?”

“No, I was actually going to go with her, but she........she died,” Peter answered.

Silence fell over the room; one could’ve heard a pin drop even without super hearing.

“Peter, I’m sorry,” Eddie finally spoke up, “I didn’t mean to be pushy or insisting, I just......”

“It’s okay,” Peter assured him, “you didn’t know. It happened a long time ago, but it’s still not exactly something I talk about that much.”

“Of course,” Eddie replied.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The night continued nicely, and, of course, every bit of food Peter was served was delicious. Even more than that though, he really enjoyed getting to know Eddie better outside of the workplace. He was very much the same person, but much more relaxed. His relationship with Anne was sweet, but also very real. They were two people who clearly weren’t afraid to be their true selves or express their thoughts or feelings around each other.

“Thanks for having me,” he said as he got ready to leave. “Anne, thank you especially for the food.”

“It was my pleasure, Peter,” Anne replied. “We’re both glad you could come.”

Eddie saw Peter out to the door, and Peter thanked him one last time.

“I’m sorry again,” Eddie apologized, “Anne gets onto me sometimes about being a bit too pushy in encouraging people to do or go for something, and this reminded me of why.”

“It’s okay,” Peter replied, “I know you were just trying to help.” Once Gwen’s memory had been dug up in his mind again, it had been hard to truly put it back to rest for the evening. At the same time, it had felt strangely relieving to talk about it with someone other than May, even if it was very brief.

“I guess I just don’t want you to pass up an opportunity just because it didn’t work out for you before,” Eddie suggested. “You never know, maybe you’ll strike it lucky yet.”

“Maybe,” Peter said. “Anyway, thanks again, and have a good night.”

Peter walked out of the house, hearing the door close behind him. As he began the walk to the bus stop, Eddie’s words repeated in his mind.

“Maybe you’ll strike it lucky yet.”

If only he knew how Peter’s life actually worked.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

By the time he’d made it back to his apartment, Peter decided he wasn’t quite ready yet to go inside. His mind was full of too many thoughts, and he felt like stretching his legs a little anyway after that big meal he’d had. Web swinging was usually his go to point to clear his head, but occasionally, he liked to mix it up with a walk around the neighborhood. In a way, it made him feel a little more down to earth and human to just do something so normal, as opposed to swinging at impossible speeds from impossible heights.

There was a walkway that essentially formed a square around his neighborhood that Peter particularly liked to use, and it passed by a small park. It wasn’t much compared to other such places around the city, but it had the essentials: a jungle gym (were they still called that?), a seesaw and a few swings. By this time in the evening, when there was just a little bit of evening sun still out, there were rarely if ever any kids still using it though. However, as Peter came upon it this time, he saw not a kid, but an adult on the playground, and a familiar looking one at that.

It was Mary Jane.

She was swinging on one of the swings when she made eye contact with him, using her feet to stop the swing’s momentum. She then waved at him, and he waved lightly back. After a moment, he decided to go inside to see her.

“Hey,” M.J. said as he approached her.

“Hey,” Peter replied. “I didn’t expect to see you out here.”

“What, adults can’t play on the playground?” M.J. asked.

“No, well.......I just know most don’t,” Peter said, trying to navigate the question as best he could.

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not most adults then,” M.J. replied. “They take everything too seriously; sometimes you just have to have a little childish fun after a long day.”

“Is that what you had?” Peter asked, “a long day?”

“It was fine, just busy,” M.J. said. “I enjoy what I do out there, but every once in a while, it gets to be a bit much on the mind.”

“I take it that means business is booming?” Peter asked.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” M.J. remarked.

“That’s good,” Peter said. “It’s really cool that you and your friend are running such a successful business so early in life.”

“Yeah, a lot of it was my idea, but Liz is definitely the one that keeps the ship afloat, so to speak,” M.J. replied. “If she wasn’t so good with numbers and budgeting and stuff, I don’t know how we would’ve survived our first few months especially.”

“Wish I could say I was that successful in something,” Peter commented. “I guess I just need find a business partner of my own.”

M.J. chuckled at that, and Peter had to admit that there was something incredibly magnetic about her smile.

“Well, what do you say,” M.J. said, “you want to go for a swing?”

“What?” Peter asked, his mind racing. Had she seen him swing out the window or something?

He felt a great deal of relief when she nudged her head toward the swing next to her.

“Oh, you mean like......yeah, yeah sure,” Peter said, breathing an internal sigh of relief as he took his seat on the swing. He wrapped his hands around the cool metal chains that connected the seat to the bar overhead, and he and M.J. reeled back before taking off in unison.

“I bet I can get higher than you can,” M.J. challenged.

“Is that a fact?” Peter challenged back, kicking the ground to make himself go higher. M.J. did the same, and soon they were both going so high that it felt like either one of them might accidentally go TOO high and either fall off upside down or wrap around the metal over top of them. M.J. didn’t seem nervous at all; actually, she was smiling and laughing like she was having the best time in the world.

Peter had to admit he was having quite a bit of fun too. He would have thought that, with him being used to a much more “intense” brand of swinging, he would’ve found this boring by comparison. Instead, there was a simplicity to it that was peaceful and calm. Part of it was likely also due to who he was doing this with. This was only his second extended interaction with the redhead, but in both instances now, he felt happy, fun and free in her presence. M.J. seemed to have an infectiously carefree personality that brought out a similar side in him, a more relaxed version of himself that Peter hadn’t felt in a long time.

Maybe he did get a little lucky from time to time.

The two of them continued swinging, laughing and enjoying themselves even as the sun disappeared below the horizon.

Chapter Text

Peter reached for his drink after swallowing another bite of his sandwich. He and his aunt were eating at one of his favorite restaurants; he’d stumbled upon the place during his junior year of college; he was out as Spider-Man on a normal patrol one night when he caught a few guys trying to rob the place. After easily dispatching them, the store owner was so grateful that she’d offered him a free sandwich then and there. He ended up loving it so much that he decided to make it a lunch rendezvous with May about once a month, a pattern they had kept up for the most part since then.

Fortunately for Peter, his aunt ended up loving the place too, though probably not as much as him. That was impossible.

“If it wasn’t for your crazy metabolism, I’d tell you to slow down,” May said. “Then again, when have you ever listened to your old aunt.”

“Hey now,” Peter said after he swallowed his food. After all these years, his aunt was still concerned about some of the same things she did when he was a kid. However, she’d also developed a certain level of sarcasm as well, especially over the last few years.

“What?” May questioned, a loose smile threatening to betray her otherwise serious demeanor. “Am I wrong?”

“Well, there HAVE been times when I should’ve listened to you,” Peter conceded, “but that was when I was young and stupid.”

“Now you sound like Ben,” May said as she took a bite of her sandwich.

“No, his thing was that boys do stupid and dangerous stuff,” Peter corrected.

“Oh, and what are you?” May asked.

“A man.......at least when I have to be,” Peter teased, producing some chuckles out of his aunt.

“Anyway,” May said after sipping some of her drink, “how’ve things been recently? Oh, and by that, I mean other than the same old thing you give me.”

“Well,” Peter said, “I am pleased to share with you that I actually had dinner with my coworker Eddie and his wife Anne last week, who makes a DELICIOUS lasagna by the way.”

May’s eyes widened as a smile spread across her cheeks.

“Peter, that’s great!” she said. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, it was.......it was good,” he replied. He and Eddie hadn’t made specific arrangements for similar endeavors in the future, but after that night, Peter had gained a newfound appreciation for his coworker after seeing him outside of the workplace. Plus, he had no idea just how GOOD it would feel to do something like that again.

“Well, I’m happy for you,” May said. “I don’t suppose you had any more thoughts on the girl front?”

Peter let out a huff of air.

“Not really,” he said. The truth was that he didn’t really know exactly what his thoughts were in that regard. He had run across Mary Jane a couple times this past week, where they would exchange their usual surface level pleasantries with the occasional back-and-forth banter mixed in. The woman was extremely beautiful and had a fun, easy going personality that made her easy to be around, but anytime Peter’s mind would start to dwell on these things, he’d force himself to refocus on whatever he was doing.

Still, the thoughts kept returning occasionally, but he wasn’t ready to share this with his aunt just yet.

“What about you?” Peter spoke up before May could pry further. “You still tearing up the town every weekend?”

“Huh, yeah, if you mean meeting with the girls for occasional game of bridge here and there, sure,” his aunt replied. “Honestly, we’ve been kind of busy at the hospital recently, and not even because we’ve been having more patients than usual.”

“What do you mean?” Peter inquired, taking another sip of his drink.

“Oh, there’s just a bunch of talk going around on some kind of transitionary power source we’re getting,” May replied. “You know how we kept having issues here and there back when Oscorp controlled all the city’s power? Well, supposedly we’re going to get some big power source that’ll help the hospital and all its equipment function completely independent from anything else.”

“Wow,” Peter said, “that sounds cool.”

“Assuming it works,” May said, not sounding quite as enthused. “If it does though, it will definitely be a huge blessing.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Peter said. However, another thought soon came into his head that wasn’t so pleasant. His expression must have changed, because when he looked back up at his aunt, she was giving him a particular look.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s just, thinking about all these tech thefts that have been going on for a while now,” Peter began, “whoever is behind it is going to need something to power whatever is they are planning to build or whatever. They could come for that thing, and.....”

“Peter,” May said, putting her hand over his, “relax. Not everything is some doomsday scenario where I’m going to be in danger because of a wrong place wrong time kind of thing. Besides, they’re still discussing a lot of the formalities, and I think they said the thing still has one or two more tests to pass before the people in charge at the hospital said they’ll approve it. They don’t want the place to be some big test for this thing.”

“Yeah, makes sense,” Peter said. None of that was going to stop him from worrying though, so he made a mental note to try and find more information on this thing later.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Mary Jane sat the last box down, completing the pile.

“Alright, I think that’s it,” she said, stepping back to survey her and Liz’s work. Her best friend didn’t respond immediately, instead remaining focused on counting the number of boxes in each group. While her best friend had counted the drawers for the day, M.J. had tasked herself with dividing up a recent shipment they’d received of new athletic wear, separating them into different sections in their storage room. Liz had just come back to count it up and make sure it was correct to their order.

“Well, everything looks in order,” Liz said.

“Anything else?” M.J. asked.

“I think we should be good,” Liz replied, “other than a good once over just to make sure everything stocked up outside before we open tomorrow.”

“Alright,” M.J. said, and the two ladies left the room, heading out into the main area. It was the custom of whoever stayed to close the store for the day that they did a quick check to make sure that nothing needed to be immediately replenished. Normally, only one of them was there, but both ladies had thought it was the others’ turn. They had just decided to both stay, since neither side had any plans that evening.

“Hey,” Liz called out at one point from across the room, “how’s it going with that neighbor of yours?”

“Liz, slow down,” M.J. replied. “We’ve only had some conversations here and there, which have been nice, but we still don’t even know each other that well. Don’t worry, I promise you’ll be the first to know when or if anything even changes.”

“Just asking,” Liz said somewhat defensively, M.J. glancing over to see her best friend holding her hands up. “After all, you seemed so eager to see him that night you ambushed him.”

“Oh my goodness, will you let that go already?” M.J. asked in an annoyed tone as she tried to focus on what she was doing. “I told you, it wasn’t like that.”

“Alright,” Liz said plainly, “well, what do you guys talk about anyway?”

“You know, just basic stuff,” M.J. replied.

“Okay, so, like, what your favorite color is?” Liz questioned, though the tone M.J. picked up in her voice didn’t make it seem like one. She elected to ignore it as she responded.

“That, among other things.”

“So, let me guess, you haven’t given him any REAL indication of who you are?” Liz asked.

M.J. paused her circling of the clothesline she was going through at the time, head down for a moment before she answered.

“We’re getting there,” she said, but the truth was, she had no idea what that would look like. M.J. was enjoying her and Peter’s steady, pretty surface level conversations right now. They were plain, they were easy, and most of all, they were fun.

At this point, Liz walked over to her, abandoning the rack she’d been looking over.

“Okay, I’m not trying to rush you or anything,” Liz began. “Like you said, you two are still getting to know each other. But M.J, if you want to ever get past the phase you’re in, you two are going to have to start opening up to each other a little more.”

M.J. smirked, but beneath it, she knew her friend was right.

It was just.......hard.

“You know, for someone who is dead set on never ever getting married, you seem to have a lot of relationship advice to offer,” M.J. quipped.

“I mean, you taught me everything I know,” Liz replied.

M.J. tilted her head.

“How’s that?”

“You showed me everything NOT to do,” Liz answered, a playful but still sincere smile on her face. M.J. could only close her eyes and shake her head. She couldn’t even be mad, because she knew her best friend was right. Still, Liz’s thoughts didn’t take away from her intention to ease into this. M.J. hadn’t even known Peter for a month yet, so in her mind, it was way too early to know if there was even real interest on either side just yet.

The two ladies then returned to their work, since the hour was starting to get a little late. Once they finished, they grabbed their stuff from the back room and walked out the door, with M.J. grabbing her keys to lock the doors.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” M.J. spoke up as she turned the key, pulling to make sure the doors were locked properly, “when do you want to meet next to go over how we’re doing on the budget? You know I can’t stand that side of things, but the sooner the better in my opinion. Anyway, I wanted to see what you thou......”

M.J. was interrupted by a repeated frantic tapping against her arm. She turned to her friend.

“What?” she asked, only for Liz to point ahead of them in response. M.J. looked ahead, and she couldn’t believe what she saw. The world around her seemed to fade out as a familiar figure came walking up to her and Liz, stopping about fifteen feet in front of them.

It was her father.

“Liz, can you give us a minute?” M.J. said, not taking her eyes off him.

“M.J. are you su.....”

“It’s okay,” M.J. said, cutting her off, but she was only barely paying her best friend any mind. Thankfully, Liz didn’t put up any further protest, walking on ahead, though M.J. did notice her friend give the man a look as she walked past.

Now alone, he finally spoke.

“Hey Mary.”

M.J. didn’t respond, still trying to process that this was really happening. Even given the distance he was keeping between them, she could see his somewhat formal looking button up shirt and nicer pants, and he appeared to be cleanshaven, so he at least looked better than the last time she’d seen him.

“It’s been a long time,” the man finally spoke up again.

“Five years,” M.J. said, the length in no way forgotten by her.

“So, you’re running your own business I see,” her father said, starting to walk towards her, causing M.J. to instinctively back up a step or two. The man didn’t seem to notice as he continued: “I can’t say how proud I am of you.”

“That’s more than I could say for you,” M.J. responded as he stopped a few feet from her.

“I wanted to show you something,” the man said, reaching into his right pants pocket, pulling out his wallet. He pulled a card out and showed it to her. It was an AA card, specifically one that indicated he had completed a rehabilitation course.

“I’ve been clean and sober for a month now,” her father added.

M.J. swallowed. She’d often wondered if this day would come, but now that it was here, she still couldn’t believe it.

“Good,” she finally said in a quick and cut off tone.

“Listen, I was wondering if we......”

“No.”

“Look,” her father said, “I know I.......”

“You don’t know,” M.J. replied, cutting him off again. “You have no idea what you put our family through, especially after mom died.”

“I know I’ve made mistakes,” her father said, “but I’m a different man now. All I’m asking for is a chance to prove it.”

M.J. needed to leave; she wasn’t ready for this. She started to walk past him, but then she felt a hand grab her arm, stopping her. It was a familiar feeling, though it wasn’t as tight as it used to be.

“Mary.”

M.J. spun her head around to face him, rage starting to turn into adrenaline in her body.

“Take your hand off me,” she in a low tone.

Her father slowly removed his hand, lowering his arm.

“Please.”

“No,” M.J. said, turning and walking away. Thankfully, he said nothing else; she didn’t know how she would’ve reacted if he spoke again. She eventually caught up to Liz, who immediately started walking with her.

“What did he want?” she asked.

“Nothing he’s going to get,” M.J. responded.

Chapter Text

Peter fired another web, grabbing onto it and stretching his legs forward as he enjoyed the rush of the wind against his costume created by his descent. Since he’d woken up a bit too late today to manage getting to the Bugle on time via the bus, he’d opted for his own personal faster method. He didn’t want to make a habit of swinging to work, because it would allow him to procrastinate just a little more. Plus, having to change so close to work always had the potential to cause complications.

Still, it just felt particularly nice out today. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, and the city just seemed particularly alive this morning for some reason. Everything just made it seemed like it was going to be a perfect day.

That is, until Peter’s spider sense went off.

Releasing his web, Peter tucked his legs, performing a backflip through the air, narrowly avoiding a lunging attacker. His momentum carried him forward, and he eventually landed on the side of a nearby building. He looked up to see Scorpion, who had landed on the building adjacent to his.

“Seriously Gargan?” Peter quipped, “it’s too early for this; it’s not even nine o’clock yet!”

“It’s always a good time to kill a spider,” Gargan growled menacingly, raising his tail and blasting acid from it. Peter shifted to the side, noticing the acid melted clean through a section of the wall, revealing the bystanders inside. He needed to take this fight to the roof, should Gargan turn his sights on one of these individuals.

Peter turned and raced up the wall, leaping over the top, with Scorpion coming in hot right behind him. The green suited man landed just across from him, instantly going on the attack. Working to clear some degree of distance between them, Peter kept jumping back, looking for an opening.

“Mac, have I ever told you that you might be the most cliché villain I’ve ever faced?” Peter taunted as he jumped back, avoiding a sweeping attack by his opponent’s long tail. “I mean, seriously, you don’t even have any real goals or ambitions other than maybe to get rich and kill me, and NONE of your jokes land, like, ever.”

The plan was working; Scorpion’s attacks were getting a little more careless and sloppier as he got angrier. They were still lightning fast and undoubtedly powerful though, and they weren’t giving Peter much of an opening to strike back with yet, so he kept biding his time, leading his enemy along from rooftop to rooftop.

Unfortunately, one of Scorpion’s acid blasts connected with the line holding up the lift a construction worker was standing on at a building across the street. With a life on the line, Peter ignored his opponent, lunging forward and snagging the worker just as the rope tore completely and the lift descended towards the ground.

Scorpion hadn’t forgotten about Peter, however, and despite his spider sense warning him of incoming, he couldn’t move fast enough while holding the worker. This resulted in him getting pinned by Gargan, smashing his body against the building. His enemy gripped hard and fast against his arms, squeezing without remorse. Peter could feel the pressure threatening to snap the humerus bones in both is upper arms already.

Of course, all Gargan was doing was smiling, the sadistic monster clearly enjoying every second of this.

“Uh oh,” the man said, his nastily gleeful tone of pseudo concern really starting to grate against Peter’s nerves, “you better not let go. Can’t have an innocent die on your watch now, can you?”

Indeed, Peter was struggling to maintain his grip on the construction worker as Scorpion squeezed his arms all the tighter. Any effort he attempted to free his other arm was useless, as it couldn’t even budge against the vice-like grip holding it in place, putting a pressure against it that could crush concrete.

Again, Peter’s eyes fell on Gargan’s hideously maniacal grin. He couldn’t let this monster win, so, with all the strength he could summon in his lower body, he shot his knee up, bringing it with devastating force straight into Scorpion’s chin, hitting him so hard that he knocked out on of the man’s teeth. His grip on Peter’s arms was released completely as he began his descent towards the ground below.

Releasing his own grip against the side of the building, he came down to the ground as well, though he landed much more gracefully than Gargan, whose body crashed on top of a car below them. Setting the construction worker on his own two feet on the ground, Peter released the man from his grip.

“You alright?” he asked. The gentleman still seemed a bit shellshocked from the whole thing but managed to nod his head in response.

Spider sense.

With barely any time to properly react, Peter pushed the gentleman forward, out of the way of Scorpion’s tail, which collided straight into his stomach and slammed him hard against the base of a building. Peter dropped to the ground, the blow having knocked the wind out of him and then some.

“That’s your problem, Spider-Man,” Scorpion said, coming over to him, “you care too much.” The man then delivered a punch straight to Peter’s already tender midsection before picking him up by the shoulder of his costume and tossing him several feet away, resulting in a rough tumble of a landing in the middle of the street.

Peter could hear Scorpion land nearby, maybe fifteen or twenty feet away from him. He fought to get up, but his ribs and midsection in general were screaming at him with even the feeblest attempts to do so.

“Still, I’m grateful, because today it means I get to finish you off once and for all,” Scorpion boasted.

Forcing himself up just enough, Peter blasted Scorpion’s feet with webbing, causing the man to stick in his tracks. He piled on the webbing as extra insurance, and soon, Peter’s opponent was stuck to the concrete ground.

“That’s funny, Mac,” Peter said, finally managing to get into a standing position, “because you’ve had so, SO many chances over the years to do just that, and you know what? I’m still here.”

Clearly agitated again, Scorpion blasted acid out of his tail, which Peter dodged just out of the way. He might have his opponent pinned for the moment, but that tail was still particularly dangerous to the people around them. He needed to finish this quickly, so he raced toward Gargan, ducking under a swing of the man’s fist. Peter then burst up, connecting hard with the man’s chin. Scorpion immediately swung at him again, but still failed to land a blow.

Peter kept up this routine for a short while. Keeping the fight so close was certainly risky, but it at least took the tail out of play, which was half the danger when facing Gargan. His spider sense continued to give him just enough anticipation of Scorpion’s blows to get out of their way in time while landing devastating ones himself. Finally, Peter landed one final blow that cause the man to tumble to the ground in a heap.

“Alright Mac, who are you working for?” Peter asked, hoping he could get an answer out before the man faded out of consciousness, but it was no use. The flurry of punches and kicks he had landed had done their job a little too well, and soon Scorpion was out for the count. Even if it hadn’t been that way, the man likely wouldn’t have given him an answer anyway, but he figured it was worth a try.

At this point, police were coming onto the scene to get Scorpion back to the Vault.

“Thanks Spidey,” the officer said. “We’ll take it from here.”

“Have at it,” Peter said. He turned and took a step, almost doubling over as the pain in his midsection flared up again.

“You alright?” the officer asked.

“A okay,” Peter replied, giving a thumbs up. That couldn’t be further from the truth, as he was likely already swelling up across his stomach, and he was concerned that he might either be bleeding internally or have a cracked rib, potentially even both. He couldn’t let the public see how bad he was hurting though; more importantly, he couldn’t let word get out that Spider-Man was seriously injured. The last thing he needed was for criminals and super villains to try and take advantage of Spider-Man being injured and make his life a nightmare.

Forcing himself to stand straight up, Peter shot a web up into the sky, heading back for the first aid at his apartment. The trip back wasn’t very pleasant, but he managed to steady himself upon landing, so that was a win. He got out the necessary first aid materials when something hit him: he was currently missing work. In the midst of everything, he’d completely disregarded that he was going to have to call Robbie and let him know he wouldn’t be there. A very small part of him contemplated trying to still show up and come up with some excuse, since he’d have to do the latter one way or the other.

In the end, he decided to stick with staying home for the day, mainly because he wasn’t sure how well he could fake being okay right now anyway, and the last thing he wanted was the attention of a bunch of reporters on him when his fight as Spider-Man was likely to be one of the day’s top news stories. Besides, he wasn’t sure he could take on someone like Scorpion again while in this condition, so he needed a good day or so for his body to do its thing.

Really, there was no way this scenario wasn’t going to be a little suspicious, but what choice did he have?

Picking up the phone, Peter dialed his boss.

“Joe Robertson.”

“Hey Mr. Robertson, it’s Peter,” he began, “I’m sorry for the late notice, but I had an emergency at my apartment that needed to be attended to, so I’m afraid I won’t be in today.”

It really wasn’t his best work, but he dared not say anything about him either being hurt or even sick.

There was no response and no noise of any kind for a moment, but eventually, Robbie spoke up again.

“Alright. Just know you’ll have to pick up a little of the slack again tomorrow.”

Wow, seriously?

“Okay, awesome,” Peter said, rubbing his hair in bewilderment. “Yes, I definitely will. Thank you for understanding sir. Have a good day.”

The feeling of surprise was still fresh in his mind even after hanging up, but Peter had learned not to question his rare instances of good luck too greatly, so he moved back to his first aid, ready for the usual tedious process.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Mary Jane finally turned the TV off, tossing the remote onto the couch beside her. She let out a frustrated sigh as she contemplated what she should do to try and clear her head. Her father showing up had thrown her for more of a loop than she’d realized; she hadn’t been able to focus on work during the first half of the day, which she would’ve thought would be the perfect distraction. Instead, it seemed like every little thing reminded her of him and that he was trying to get back in the picture.

The last straw had been when she saw a man come in with his girlfriend who was dressed exactly like how her father had been last night. She’d gotten through it and helped the woman out, but Liz had pulled her aside afterwards and told her to take the rest of the day off, saying she could handle it. M.J. had fought her on it, but her best friend stood her ground and she ended up conceding in the end. She’d been home ever since, trying to find anything she could to distract herself, but nothing in the two hours she’d been home had done anything to help her cause.

She’d thought she’d heard some noise occasionally coming from next door, so she contemplated seeing if Peter was home. It would certainly be better than her being alone with her own thoughts, so M.J. got up and headed towards the door, traversing the few steps it took to get next door. She raised her fist to knock, giving three gentle but firm taps with her knuckles.

There was no answer at first, and nothing but silence filled the area, making M.J. start to wonder if she’d been hearing things. She tried one more time, giving slightly harder knocks than before. This time, an answer came quickly as Peter opened the door, an expression of surprise on his face.

“Hey, M.J,” he said in his usual pleasant tone. “What’s going on? You need something?”

“Do I have to need something?” M.J. asked. She was a little more offended by the question than she expected, but she was hoping she kept that hidden in her tone.

“No, no not at all,” Peter replied, clearly embarrassed at himself, “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you. Do you want to come in?”

“Yes,” M.J. said, stepping in as Peter swung the door open wider. She took in the sights of the space around her, which was.......not much. The apartment was largely empty, with minimal furniture except for a small couch in the living room and a small table near the kitchen space. Speaking of the kitchen, there was a bit of a mess going on in there with a mountain of dishes piled up on one side.

“Sorry,” Peter apologized. “I know it’s not much and a bit messy.”

“No,” M.J. said, embarrassed that Peter had caught on to some of the observations she was making. “It’s nice and quaint, really.”

“You can say you hate it,” Peter said, “it won’t hurt my feelings any.”

“I mean, it could use some touches,” M.J. said, allowing a little honesty to seep through. “But seriously, I do like it. It’s peaceful.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been one to need too much growing up,” said Peter as he moved over to the living room and started picking up some stuff. “I guess that carried into adulthood.”

M.J. slowly strolled into the living room as well, glancing down at Peter’s small collection of DVDs next to his television, or at least what was out at the time.

“I see some you like the Rocky films,” she said, eyeing them in particular. “Which one’s your favorite?”

“Definitely the first one,” Peter said as he continued cleaning up. “Hard to beat originals usually.”

“I’ve always liked the third one,” M.J. said.

“Why is that?” he asked.

“Everyone knows the story of the underdog working to achieve his goal,” she replied, “but I like how this movie shows how someone responds when they actually lose again after having success. I don’t know, I guess that was always more interesting to me. Plus, I like the song they came up with for it: The Eye Of The Tiger.”

“That is a classic, I’ll give you that,” Peter conceded as he went into the kitchen area. M.J. strolled in as well, and they both met at the table. For a moment, they locked eyes and said nothing before Peter spoke up.

“Do you, uh, wanna sit down?” he said, gesturing to the seats at the table.

“Sure,” she said, pulling out the chair next to her and taking a seat. As Peter did the same, she noticed him wincing ever so slightly, sitting down just a little slowly.

“You alright?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said in a hurried voice.

“You just looked like you were having a little trouble,” she persisted. “Did you hurt yourself recently?”

Peter didn’t respond at first, and his expression suddenly turned into one of nervousness, or possibly embarrassment; maybe both.

“I just, uh, had a little accident earlier today,” he said. “It’s fine though, really.”

“Accident?” M.J. said. “What did you do, fall down the stairs?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I did,” he replied after a moment. “I fell down the stairs earlier, and now my whole body just feels a little sore.”

The slightest bit of a laugh escaped M.J.’s mouth, prompting her to cover her lips with her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said, recomposing herself. “I guess you should just take the elevator after all.”

“I guess so,” he replied. His eyes then narrowed as he glanced slightly downward. “What’s that?”

M.J. followed his eyeline to see that her left wrist was just exposed enough to show the tattoo on it, so she turned it over to properly show the Spider-Man insignia in all its glory.

“Wow,” Peter said, his expression looking more upbeat, but also curious. “I’m guessing you’re a fan?”

“Yeah,” M.J. replied, “I got this at first because it was just the thing to do at the time, but now.........I don’t know. There’s a simple appeal to Spider-Man really. No matter what people say or do to or about him, he still goes out there and does his best to help those who need it, with no regard for himself. I guess having this just serves as a reminder to me that there’s still good in the world, you know?”

“I think I do,” Peter said.

“I’ve always wondered though: what is his life like behind the mask?” M.J. pondered.

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

“Well, I’ve never actually encountered him in person,” M.J. began, “but he doesn’t strike me as the billionaire-who-spends-his-free-time-fighting-crime type. Really, he seems more like an every man, like one of the people. Does he have a family? Do those close to him even know who he is? Is he happy with what he does? If I ever met him, those are just a few of the many questions I would ask just out of personal curiosity.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Peter could only smile to himself at how much M.J. was hitting the nail on the head more than she realized. Everything she was saying was something like what he had either experienced or at least thought about. Still, it was cool to find out that his new neighbor friend had an interest in Spider-Man. Granted, everyone in New York did, but the fact that she expressed interest in the life behind the mask was refreshing in a way.

For a moment, Peter entertained the thought of what it would be like to tell her that she was actually sitting across from Spider-Man right now. What would M.J.’s reaction be? Would it be stunned silence or excitement? The idea was fun to ponder briefly, but he knew it was ridiculous to dwell on such an idea for too long.

If he could help it, he would never tell anyone else his secret ever again.

The two of them would eventually move on to other subjects and ended up talking for a few hours, just sitting and conversing with one another. It was helpful in taking Peter’s mind off his injury, which he was always grateful for. Still, he couldn’t help but feel that something was off about M.J. the whole time they talked, like something was subtly bothering her that she was trying to keep from coming to the surface. He debated asking her if anything was going on, but struggled to know if it was his place right now or not.

It wasn’t until she got up to leave that he finally spoke up.

“Hey, M.J?”

She turned back to him.

“Are you okay?” he dared to ask.

“Of course,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, you just don’t quite seem like yourself for some reason,” Peter answered.

“No, I’m good,” she said, but her tone was short and clipped, lacking its usual pleasant nature. “Anyway, thanks for letting me stop by like this.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Peter answered, getting up to get the door for her, they exchanged goodbyes and after she stepped out, he closed the door, still wondering if something was up but trying not to concern himself with it too greatly.

If she had wanted to share, she would’ve.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

As the door closed behind her, M.J. found herself frustrated. When Peter had first asked, there was a part of her that wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth, that wanted nothing more than to explain what was going on in her head right now. But, like always, she’d sidestepped the whole thing in favor of just keeping it all inside. Liz was about the only person on earth she’d had practice in such things with, and even that was still a regular struggle.

Bottom line, M.J. was going to need to figure out what to do about this whole situation, before she went absolutely nuts.

Chapter Text

The next day, Peter had largely recovered from his injuries, so he was able to return to work. Even better, he had actually managed to avoid having anything come up on the way there too, but he opted against letting anything go to his head regarding how good the day was going to turn out. He’d dared to allow thoughts like that into his mind yesterday, only for the world to immediately remind him of its twisted sense of humor, so he was taking no chances today.

He was working hard at his computer when a file landed on his desk. Of course, it hadn’t really surprised him, but he still tried to at least look the part as he glanced up at Eddie, who was standing over his desk.

“I think I’m finally starting to figure it out.”

Peter crossed his arms over his desk, leaning forward.

“Okay,” he replied, “I’m all ears.”

“Alright,” Eddie began, “so, we haven’t really been able to get many leads on the who or the why behind the tech thefts so far. However, Spider-Man's very public fight with the Scorpion yesterday got me looking into something.”

Eddie then moved around to Peter’s side of the desk, opening the file to reveal a series of pictures regarding various super villains he’d faced over the years as Spider-Man. The thing was, it wasn’t just some random group.

“You think this is tied to the Sinister Six or whatever they called themselves?” Peter questioned, again trying to make sure not to act too much in the know.

“Scorpion AND Mysterio were both a part of the original group,” Eddie replied. “None of the others are at large right now though as far as we know, but it still feels like more than a coincidence to me.”

“Okay, let’s say you’re right,” Peter said, “what would even be your next step?”

“I’ve tried to contact the head of The Vault, but they reminded me that they don’t grant interviews with any of the inmates,” Eddie replied.

“It’s always been that way,” Peter affirmed. “They wouldn’t even allow Ben Urich in there, despite the reputation he had. Who were you even trying to talk to anyway?”

“Harry Osborn,” Eddie said. “The one who used to run the Six back when he was the Green Goblin.”

Peter had to fight incredibly hard not to bristle at that namedrop.

“Yeah, I’d imagine he’d be particularly hard to get to see even if you could get in there,” he said.

“I’m going to find a way,” Eddie countered, his determination seemingly unshaken. “I just know I’m on the right track, I can feel it in my bones. Trust me, Peter, by the time this story is over, you and I will both have some Pulitzers heading our way!”

As Eddie walked away, Peter couldn’t help but run his fingers against his forehead. The truth was that he’d already considered a lot of this in his “other” investigations into these thefts, even theorizing who might have taken over the Six if it was one of them. Mysterio had seemed more focused than normal the night Peter had caught him, and Scorpion appeared to be talking with someone the first time they’d fought, both things likely adding up to someone pulling both of their strings.

As for Harry, it was unlikely to be him behind it all. If he had reverted to the Goblin persona, he likely would’ve come for him directly or perhaps May, who’d been a target of his before. Plus, the insane green side of Peter’s former best friend hadn’t been one for subtlety or hiding for too long, seemingly needing to just go destroy or kill something or someone like an uncontrollable impulse.

Peter had actually contemplated trying to get into the Vault as Spider-Man to see Harry, partially as confirmation that his logic was correct and that he was still there, but also to see if he could get any insight out of him if he was. He still wasn’t sure if he had the stomach to see his former best friend again after all these years though, so he’d held off on the idea.

All this would have to be saved for patrol anyway. Right now, Peter needed to focus. Robbie had told him he would need to pick up the slack today, so he had that to worry about right now more than anything else.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“You know, sometimes I wonder why we ever go anywhere else for lunch,” M.J. said as she swallowed her most recent bite of her sandwich.

“So, you admit I have good taste?” Liz questioned, taking another bite of her salad.

“In this case, I’ll gladly say that,” M.J. acknowledged before taking a sip of her drink. She was about to take another bite from her sandwich when their server came up to their table.

“How is everything?” the woman asked.

“Very good, thanks,” M.J. replied.

“Excellent,” the waitress replied. “Also, I wanted to let you two know that your meals have been paid for, so you are good whenever you’re finished.”

“Paid for?” M.J. asked, setting down her sandwich. “May I ask by who?”

“The gentleman sitting in the booth a few spaces back,” the woman replied, offering a smile as she walked away to attend to another table. M.J. peered back, curious as to the identity of this mysterious individual. She really hoped it wasn’t one of her exes; that was the last thing she needed. Part of her hoped that it was Peter, but at the same time, she wasn’t sure she was ready for Liz to meet him just yet.

As she peered back, none other than her father turned around from a booth a few spaces down, causing M.J. to immediately spin back around, rubbing her fingers against her eyelids.

“Your dad paid for us?” Liz asked in a hushed voice, clearly having noticed him as well.

“Yep,” M.J. said. “Why don’t you head on back to the store; I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Are you sure?” Liz asked, her question stopping M.J. as she’d started to rise from her seat. “You don’t have to you know; not after everything he put you and your sister through.”

“I’ll be fine, Liz,” M.J. asserted. “Seriously, go on ahead. I won’t be long.”

Liz eventually got up, taking her stuff and going on her way. The concerned look she gave M.J. as she did did nothing to assuage her own worries as she walked over to her father’s booth, standing next to it.

“Did you pay for us?” she asked directly.

Her father looked up at her, putting on a seemingly innocent expression.

“What, a man can’t pay for his daughter’s meal?” he asked.

M.J. looked up, stopping short of rolling her eyes.

“What do you want, dad?” she asked.

Her father gestured for her to take a seat in the booth opposite him as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. It was strange to M.J, seeing him all professional-looking and pleasant acting like this. She slowly sat down into the booth, interlocking her fingers as she rested her hands against the table.

“I’m looking to start fresh, Mary,” her father began, setting his napkin down on the table. “Not just with you, but in life. I’ve done my time; I’ve paid for my mistakes. Now, I’m ready to get back out and make my way in the world again. Naturally, the first thing I need to do that is a job, so I.......”

“If you think for one second that Liz and I are going to offer you something involving our store, you’re.......”

“No no, nothing like that,” her father interrupted, shaking his head and holding his hands up. “I assure you I am looking elsewhere for work. What I wanted to ask of you is.......if I could have a place to stay.”

M.J.’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

“Just until I get back on my feet,” her father added quickly.

“No!” M.J. exclaimed. “Are you kidding me??”

“I’ve already got some interviews lined up,” her father said, “but I don’t have a lot of money left, so I won’t be able to afford a hotel for much longer.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be spending it on someone like me who doesn’t need it,” M.J. said, getting up abruptly. She stormed off in a hurry, but that only seemed to make her father more persistent as he followed her all the way to her bike.

“Mary, please, I’ll be in and out,” he begged her, “it’ll be like I was never there!”

“You could spend one minute in my apartment, and I would know you were there,” M.J. countered as she approached her vehicle, grabbing her helmet. She then turned to face him one more time.

As much as she couldn’t stand him, as much pain as he’d caused her..........there was the smallest part in Mary Jane’s heart that wanted to believe this was real; that her father really had made all this progress and that he was really on his way to being a different man.

“Just give me two weeks,” he said. There was an earnest nature to his voice, or at least there seemed to be. The look in his eyes seemed genuine as well. Her father was many things, but he’d never been a manipulator, one who could put on a show to get people to do what he wanted. If anything, his drinking had made him TOO honest and belligerent. M.J. could recall many nights where, in alcohol-induced fits, he would spew terrible things to her and her sister, blaming them for his failures in life.

Now, here he was, SEEMINGLY a changed man.

But could she really trust him?

“You can’t stay at my place,” she finally said, “but, if you really are trying, I’ll pay for a couple more weeks in your hotel.”

Her father appeared visibly relieved at her words.

“But, if anything goes sideways, or if I even smell alcohol when I come to check on you, that’s it,” she added.

“Of course,” her father replied. “Thank you, Mary.”

“This is your last chance,” M.J. said as she strapped on her helmet, firing up her bike and driving away.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Peter stayed in his crouched position, waiting for the right moment. He’d stumbled upon a group of ordinary criminals in the middle of a heist while out on patrol. It looked like they were trying to steal routers for large computer systems, loading them up one at a time. Once a few more of them were back out there, he would spring into action. He could likely handle them all no matter how scattered they were, but history had proven this to be the most effective way.

Finally, hitting a satisfactory number of criminals near the vehicle, Peter leapt off the building.

“Sorry guys!” he shouted as he landed, kicking a couple of them against the vehicle and webbing them to it, “but I’m afraid the steal-two-for-the-price-of-none deal just expired yesterday. Tough luck, right?”

Naturally, all the others came rushing out to meet him, some with crowbars, others with guns, and even some with just their bare fists. One by one, he effortlessly dodged their swings at him, sometimes even resulting in one of the men hitting another by mistake.

“Ouch, that’s going to leave a mark,” he said after one guy particularly clobbered another in the face with a swing of a crowbar. The guy then tried swinging at him again, but this time Peter just grabbed it, halting its momentum.

“Clearly you’re not old enough to handle this,” he said, yanking the crowbar, “so I’ll just take it.” He then pinned the guy’s feet to the ground with some webbing, ensuring he couldn’t move. Peter then turned his attention to the gentlemen with guns, who had stayed relatively out of the action while trying to find the best angles for good shots. He worked quickly, disarming them with sweeping kicks, powerful punches and web blasts, eventually leaving them tied up for the police.

As he started to leave the scene, Peter overheard one of the criminals say something.

“Ah man, the Master Planner is not going to be happy about this.”

“Shut up!” another one of them said in a hushed tone.

Peter slowly turned, the man who had said it immediately avoiding his gaze when he realized he’d been overheard.

“Did you just refer to your boss as ‘Master Planner’?” he asked.

“Uhm.......yeah,” the criminal said, “that’s just what we were told.”

“Okay,” Peter remarked, “any idea where I can find this guy?”

“N-no idea!” the guy answered. “We were just contacted about doing a job for him. We don’t know anything, honest!”

Peter wasn’t sure if they were more afraid of him or whoever it was that they had spoken with. More likely it was the latter, but in either case, it didn’t seem like anyone was planning on opening up, so he swung off, leaving them for the police to find. He eventually landed on a rooftop a short distance away, pondering this most recent development.

He also thought back to what Eddie was saying about trying to get in an interview with Harry, along with his own initial thoughts on the subject. It wouldn’t be too much of a challenge to get into the Vault (he may or may not have done it once or twice before), but it was still risky. Seeing his former best friend was another matter entirely though. While Peter had supposedly cured him and restored his sanity, it was just hard not to envision the Goblin anytime he even thought of him anymore.

It was hard not to think of that night, over ten years ago.

Still, other than a recently discovered terrible codename, Peter had absolutely zero real idea as to who was behind this from an evidence standpoint. Harry’s insight, if he was even willing to talk, could prove valuable.

Opting to go against his concerns, Peter made his decision.

Chapter Text

Breaking and entering was never Peter’s favorite thing. While experience often proved it a necessity in his case, part of him still felt a little weird doing something that normally he’d be apprehending criminals for. Still, right now, this was the only way he could think of to get any solid leads on who might be behind this latest criminal conspiracy.

Currently perched on a building about a block away, Peter eyed The Vault, a high-tech state of the art supermax prison specifically designed to keep in the most powerful, intelligent and altogether dangerous criminals the city had produced over the years. When it had first been made, its attempts at security had proved laughable, as villains seemed to escape almost daily. However, over the last few years, the people running the place had begun taking more extreme security measures, with much more effective results.

Naturally, some of those security measures were on the outside of the building, which was the first obstacle in Peter’s way. There were cameras and sensors almost everywhere, so there was a very limited space and window of opportunity. Fortunately, he had studied these measures in his many visits helping the police escort particularly dangerous supervillains into confinement, so he had a pretty solid idea of how to proceed.

Firing a web, Peter swung off in the direction of the building. If he timed his landing right, he would end up at the ventilation entrance just as the camera nearest to it was turned in the other direction. As he got closer, he eyed the camera, firing one more web as he came upon his landing area. He could see the camera turning, and finally, he lunged his body forward, landing just in front of the ventilation area. His spider-sense indicated no sensors, so he quickly undid the shaft entrance point, getting inside and closing it back before the camera returned to survey the area.

From there, Peter began crawling through the shaft, all senses on high alert for any surprises. He was pretty sure he remembered where Harry was; his former best friend was in solitary confinement, so while he’d have to take care of some more cameras, he at least wouldn’t have to worry about riling up any other prisoners. However, actually laying his eyes on Harry though was another story; even now, he was still second guessing if he could really look the man in the eye, even with the mask hiding his expressions.

After a little exploring through a couple of different levels, Peter finally found the small wing he was looking for. He glanced into the room, picking up at least one camera. Reaching back, he pulled out a small device he had attached to his hip. It was something he had developed about six- or seven years prior, a small device capable of temporarily disabling security cameras. He hadn’t been able to use it on the ones outside because he’d needed to be at modestly close range for it to work, but he believed he was just close enough here.

Peter worked a little technical magic, and soon, the cameras in the room were off. He would still have only a few minutes before they were either rebooted or security would come running, so he had to get what he needed quickly before taking his leave. Popping open the vent seal, he dropped down onto the floor. He turned to see a large window showing an even larger cell, enough room to roam around.

Inside was none other than Harry Osborn. He was sitting on the floor with his arms hugging his legs, facing the wall. He didn’t seem to notice Peter drop in; judging from his gaze, he wasn’t sure if the man was even looking at particularly anything.

Time was ticking, so Peter spoke up.

“Harry.”

His former best friend turned to look at him. Even through the long strands of hair that partially covered Harry’s eyes, Peter could tell that there was a look of shock on his face. He stood up, slowly walking over to the window.

“Peter?” he muttered, his voice conveying a mixture of emotions. “What are you doing here?”

“Look, I don’t have a lot of time, but I need your help,” Peter said, stepping up to the window. “Someone called the Master Planner is behind some recent technological thefts, and I’m pretty sure Mysterio and Scorpion were working for him before I caught them. I know they were both a part of your original group; I have some thoughts, but I’m wondering if you might have any insight about which one of them might be behind all this.”

“I......”

Harry swallowed.

“I have no idea.”

“No idea?” Peter questioned. “You handpicked those guys yourself; you studied them. You must know something.”

“I’m sorry Peter, I can’t help you,” Harry responded plainly. He wasn’t even looking Peter in the eye anymore.

Peter’s spider sense was beginning to buzz, and soon he could hear rapid footsteps coming their way. Security was coming even faster than he had anticipated. In any other circumstance it would’ve been encouraging to him to know that they respond so well to security issues, but now, it was just a little inconvenient.

“Come on Harry, think,” Peter said, stepping even closer to the glass. “Ock, Vulture, Rhino......okay, scratch that last one, but still, could either of the other two be the ones behind this?”

The security people were getting closer; in moments, they would be in the room.

Harry remained silent, causing Peter to slam his fist against the reinforced glass in frustration.

“Harry!” he yelled.

They were at the door now. Time was up.

Quickly, Peter made his escape back through the ventilation shaft.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Harry observed as the security team burst into the room, guns drawn. Among them was the warden, who clearly had insisted on coming. Immediately upon entering the room, he locked his eyes with Harry briefly before looking around, surveying the area.

“Clear,” the head of the security team said. He then tilted his head slightly for a moment, probably listening to something through an earpiece.

“Looks like it was just a minor malfunction with the cameras,” he added, turning to his team. “Still, let’s do a sweep of the surrounding area just to be sure.”

The security team left, but the warden remained, walking over slowly to Harry’s cell, a knowing smile on his face.

“He came, didn’t he?”

Harry turned around but didn’t move otherwise.

“Osborn,” the warden said, his tone sterner this time, “answer me.”

Reluctantly, Harry spun back around.

“Yeah, he was here.”

The warden raised an eyebrow.

“And?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Harry said.

“Good,” the warden smiled. “The Master Planner knew he would come eventually, and it seems like you played your part like a good little goblin.”

Harry glared at the man, his fists beginning to clench as his whole body bristled at the mention of his former psychotic alter ego.

“Don’t worry though,” the warden continued, “I’ll try and make sure you don’t have to worry about something like this anymore. I must admit that I had more faith in our security measures, but it seems a certain bug figured out how to slip through the cracks, so I’ll have to sure up some things around here. After all, you’re not supposed to be able to have visitors, remember?”

The warden then exited the room, leaving Harry just as he had been for most of the last several years: alone. He slowly walked back to where he’d been before, sitting back down. This time, however, he could hardly sit still, as his body trembled with anger.

His rage wasn’t so much at the warden’s words, but at himself. His chance at redemption had come; even if it was only for information, Peter had come. Harry had finally had the chance to at least begin to atone for his many sins, for all the lives he’d ended or altered. Instead, his survival instincts had kicked in just as they had ten years ago. The same need for self-preservation that had turned him into a remorseless and murderous psychopath had reared its ugly head again, and now, there was a chance Peter could suffer once more for it.

In spite of everything he had done, Peter had cured him and saved his life, and now, Harry felt more undeserving of it than ever.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“Wow,” Liz said.

“Yeah,” M.J. replied, looking down at Liz’s carpeted floor. Her best friend had asked about how things ended up going with her father the day before, and now that work was over, they had finally had the chance for her to catch her up on the subject.

“Are you okay?” Liz asked. “You seemed better at work today than the last time you saw him, but still....”

“I’m okay,” M.J. said, nodding as she met her friend’s eyes.

“Are you sure?” Liz reiterated, seemingly not convinced.

“Mhm,” M.J. answered, nodding. “I’m just helping out someone who needs it right now.”

“M.J, don’t do that.”

“Do what?” M.J. questioned.

“You’ve made such progress over the last five years,” Liz said. “You’ve learned to open up and share more; don’t lose all that progress now.”

M.J. sighed. It had been Liz who’d insisted she finally see a therapist after years of emotional trauma, and it had helped a lot. Really, she’d felt better and better as she’d learned to be more open about her internal struggles, whether with her therapist or with her best friend. There was just something about seeing her father though that seemed to bring up old self-preservation habits again. She hated putting on a façade anymore, and she’d thought she’d put the tendency behind her.

It seemed old habits really did die hard.

“I just hope I made the right decision,” M.J. said, practically having to force the words out. “You know, choosing to help him.”

Liz leaned forward in her chair.

“I hope you did too,” she said, “and I want it to be true; I want him to be better, for both your sakes. Just......be careful. Don’t be afraid to hope, but don’t give him too much too soon.”

M.J. nodded.

“Well, I guess I better get home,” she said. “Thanks for, you know, talking and all that.”

“Of course,” Liz replied, “and M.J, just remember, you’re not alone.”

Mary Jane offered a smile at her friend’s words. She grabbed her jacket and her best friend saw her out the door. As she got in the elevator, Liz’s words echoed in her mind.

“You’re not alone.”

Yet, somehow, it didn’t feel that way. As much as Liz had been there for her, she had no idea what it was like to have someone hurt you on such a deep level as what she had endured at the hands of her own family. She had no idea what it was like to constantly carry trauma on a daily basis, even if it was now long in the past. Liz was great, but in all the years M.J. had known her, she’d never had to endure any kind of true hardship.

None of that was to say that she wished Liz any ill will. On the contrary, being around someone so untainted by the world was like a breath of fresh air for M.J, and she truly hoped Liz never dealt with anything like what she had. Despite that relieving feeling, however, it was hard for it not to make Mary Jane feel alone, even though she knew she wasn’t.

The elevator door opened, and M.J. saw a couple of people waiting for their turn. She flashed them a smile as she exited, something she had been doing most of her life. These days, it was usually more genuine than it used to be, but right now, she was hoping it was convincing enough to be believed. It was getting more and more on her nerves that she was either getting caught or catching herself in some of these old habits, and as she exited the building and hopped on her bike, she resolved that she wasn’t going to allow it to happen again.

She was better than this now.

Right?

Chapter Text

Peter slid in through his window, his feet smoothly padding the floor. He tugged at his mask from the top, yanking it from his head in frustration. He shut his eyes and leaned his neck back, letting out a breath.

What was he thinking? What had he expected? Had he really believed that Harry would just spill everything? What if he didn’t even know anything and Peter’s hunch that this was an old foe rather than a new one was completely off base? For all he knew, the risky visit he just went on was all for nothing.

The thoughts in his mind swirling around like a tornado of growing intensity, Peter discarded his costume, throwing on some more casual clothes in the hopes of settling in for the night. The swing back to his apartment had done absolutely nothing for him, so maybe an evening at home would. Of course, he made sure to grab his phone as he exited the room in case some mugger, thief or supervillain decided to cause an issue. He went down to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and pulling out some leftovers to reheat.

Once that was done, Peter plopped down on his tiny excuse for a sofa, turning on the TV in the hopes of finding something good on. He plowed through his leftovers, his accelerated metabolism not letting up for a second. He flipped through channel after channel, but he found nothing interesting to watch. It might help if he could afford more than the basic stations, but still, there just wasn’t anything interesting. He contemplated throwing in a movie, but he felt unmotivated to get up.

Really, he felt unmotivated to do anything. His mind was still going crazy, his thoughts all over the place. His frustration was making him restless too as he realized he was tapping his leg repeatedly with his fingers. He forced himself to stop as he leaned his head back against the top of the couch, closing his eyes. He could still see Harry’s face, his brain going back and forth between the one he’d seen earlier and the grotesque, nasty look of the Goblin.

Peter finally decided to just turn off the TV, getting up from the couch. He grabbed his keys and exited his apartment, figuring he would try and get some air on the roof. Sometimes just being up high in the city, whether as himself or as Spider-Man, was relaxing. The sounds of the city, as chaotic as they could be sometimes, had often proven to be surprisingly peaceful. Maybe it was just because he was used to it, maybe it was his enhanced senses allowing him to home in on certain sounds, or maybe it was just because it felt like home. In any case, this was Peter’s last thought before he just went back out on patrol to try and distract himself.

Opening the door to the roof, Peter walked out calmly, soaking in the feeling of the night air. There was a cool but gentle breeze out tonight, and it felt nice against his skin. He walked until he was about six feet from the edge of the building, just standing there. He took a deep breath, letting in all the city had to offer: the good, the not-so-good, all of it. It was one crazy scent that for whatever reason just smelled RIGHT. He let out that breath, calmly releasing it all back out.

Peter had been up there for a while, his mind relaxing at least slightly, when he heard the door to the roof open again. Curious as to who was joining him, he peered back to find that it was none other than Mary Jane, wearing a casual green jacket and her hair in a ponytail. She stopped when their eyes met, seemingly contemplating what to do next. She then stepped out, letting the door close behind her as she walked up next to him. Surprisingly, she didn’t say anything to him initially, only offering him a warm smile before staring out into the city.

For several moments, the two of them just stood there in silence before she spoke up first.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Peter replied, “in its own NYC way.” He turned and peered into her eyes, and there was a familiar look in them: a look of contemplation, of frustration, and of second guessing. It was a look he had seen in the mirror all too well. He hesitated about saying anything though; last time he had gotten the sense that something was bothering her, she had just said she was fine. She then turned to look at him too, causing him to jerk his head back into forward facing position, his face heating up a little in embarrassment at getting caught staring. Hopefully she didn’t think he was a creep or something now.

“You okay?” M.J. asked him. He turned to her.

“What makes you ask that?” he replied. He hoped it didn’t come out as defensive as it sounded to him; he just didn’t know how much to share since the real answer involved Spider-Man related stuff.

“I don’t know, you just.........you don’t seem quite like yourself,” she said.

Did she even realize how familiar all this was sounding?

He wanted to say that he could say the same about her, but Peter thought better about it and kept the words to himself.

“Oh, yeah, I’m alright,” he answered instead, “I just..........I saw someone I used to know recently, someone I don’t have the best history with, and there’s..........there’s still a lot of issues there, a lot of bad feelings brought up.”

“Mm,” M.J. responded. “I know what you mean.”

“You do?” Peter asked, turning to her.

“Yeah,” she replied in a somewhat shaky tone after taking a breath. She seemed uncharacteristically nervous as she continued: “Someone I used to know just kind of showed up out of the blue recently too. I guess I’m just trying to figure out how to handle the situation.”

Peter only nodded, still unsure of what else to say on his situation.

“So, how’s the job going?” M.J. asked.

“Oh,” Peter responded, caught off guard by the change of subject, “it’s going pretty well, I guess. Don’t exactly think I’m going to win a Pulitzer any time soon, but it still pays the bills.”

“Is that what you’ve always wanted to be?” M.J. asked, “a professional photographer? I would guess someone who works on staff at a place like the Bugle doesn’t do so just because it’s a hobby.”

“I’ve always enjoyed it, for sure,” Peter replied. “I was known as the kid with a camera always around his neck at school. I can remember one time during my senior year where this girl randomly asked me to take pictures of her boyfriend’s car, as like, part of a gift or something. It was the weirdest thing.”

Peter’s story elicited multiple giggles and a bright smile from M.J.

“Anyway,” Peter continued, “I started working at the Bugle just to help my aunt with the bills after my uncle died. I guess I figured using something I actually enjoyed doing would be a better way to make money than going somewhere I didn’t like. Over time, I just kind of ended up taking a staff position naturally as I worked my way through graduate school, and I still enjoy it, but..........I can’t see myself doing it forever.”

“Really?” M.J. asked, seemingly quite surprised. “What do you want to do then?”

“I’m not sure on the specifics,” Peter answered, “but..........I’ve always loved science. I love the study of how the world works, and I love how many ways there are to change the world for the better using that. I just want to find a way to use that and help people somehow in my own way, if that makes sense.”

When he turned to look at M.J. again, she had a close-lipped but still wide smile.

“What?” Peter asked, not really sure why she was smiling so heavily.

M.J. shook her head lightly.

“Sometimes you just seem so noble that it’s too good to be true,” she said. “Holding the door for people, being apologetic for everything, wanting to change the world.......I wish I could say my aspirations were as noble as you.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

“Liz and I started our business just because it was what we wanted to do,” M.J. answered. “I was into fashion, she was into numbers and logistics, so it seemed like a perfect fit.”

“I can still remember how in your element you seemed when Eddie and I first came to the store,” Peter answered. “You just seemed so comfortable.”

“I am,” M.J. confirmed, “I just enjoy working with other women and helping them figure out what kind of casual wear they feel most comfortable in.”

“That’s sounds pretty noble to me,” Peter said.

“How?” M.J. questioned, a curious and confused expression on her face.

“You’re helping other people feel happier and more confident and comfortable with themselves,” he replied. “That’s something that everyone needs.”

“True,” M.J. said, “but it’s not the same. You’ll probably end up coming up with a cure for cancer or........I don’t know, coming up with a way to make sure crops can never go bad or something.”

“Uh huh,” Peter said, “and when I get up on stage to accept my Nobel Prize for it, I will tell the world how my inspiration was a woman I lived next door from named Mary Jane Watson, who devoted her life to helping women feel better and more confident in themselves and help them reach a healthier emotional state.”

“Stop that,” M.J. said, fighting off laughter at his seemingly absurd idea, “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” Peter responded.

They locked eyes with each other, and for a moment, Peter didn’t realize where he was anymore. All he could focus on was her deep green eyes. He’d never realized how pretty they were before. More than that though, they just seemed so......alive. It was as if there was something stored away behind them that couldn’t help but show itself anyway.

“You know, you should really figure out how you’re going to change the world and get that Nobel Prize,” she said, “because that speech is sounding better and better.”

“I’ll get on it,” Peter said, “just as soon as I narrow it down.”

“I don’t know, I guess.........” She struggled to think of the words. “I guess just try and figure out what part of science you like the best, look for what need you find yourself the most passionate about fixing, and just go for it.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Peter said.

“Maybe, maybe not,” M.J. replied. “But something tells me you’ll find a way, Tiger.”

M.J. then turned and started walking back towards the door, leaving Peter to just shake his head and smile at himself.

“Wait,” he said, calling out to her, “did you just call me ‘Tiger’?”

“It’s my new nickname for you,” M.J. explained, spinning around so she was walking backwards. “Deal with it.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“Peter?”

Peter looked up to find Glory Grant standing in front of his desk.

“Mr. Robertson wants to see you in his office.”

“Uh oh,” Peter said, rising from his seat. “How did he look when he told you?”

“His face was pretty even, so it’s fifty-fifty,” she replied.

Peter let out a kind-of-fake-but-not-really-nervous breath as he rose from his chair at his desk, beginning the march to the Editor-In-Chief's office. When he arrived, he found Eddie was there as well. He made his way into the office just in time for his boss to look up from his desk.

“Oh, Peter, good,” he said.

“Sir, whatever it is, we didn’t do it,” Eddie said, throwing his hands up in mock innocence. This elicited a couple chuckles from their boss.

“Listen, I know you two have been working hard on the story about these tech thefts,” the man said as he rose from his seat. “I want you guys to take a break from that and cover a different story tomorrow. It might help you come back to this story with a better perspective.”

“What did you have in mind, sir?” Peter asked.

“There’s supposed to be some revolutionary new power source being delivered to the hospital,” Robbie replied. “Supposedly it will help things run more efficiently, thus potentially saving lives. I figure covering a more humanitarian story might be refreshing for you two.”

Peter had almost completely forgotten about his and May’s conversation the other day about this power source that was coming. He’d looked into it later on to see that testing had gone smoother and faster than they’d previously expected, so it was likely to come sooner, which meant that a certain someone could be after it sooner........

“Peter?”

Peter looked up, realizing that his mind had wandered, causing him to miss something.

“I’m sorry,” he said, moving his hand around near his head, “just have something on the mind, I guess.”

“Mr. Robertson just pointed out that you have a connection to the hospital through your aunt,” Eddie explained. “Maybe you could have her get a quote; maybe even some special access?”

“Yeah,” Peter responded a bit hurriedly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Chapter Text

M.J. slowed her bike down to a stop, parking it in the available space. Once the rumble of the bike ceased, she took a moment to prepare herself for what was to follow. She was actually going to do it; she was going to help her father. Specifically, she was here to pay for his hotel room for another couple weeks or so as he continued to work towards nailing down a job.

Part of her was afraid this would prove to be a waste of her time and money. After all, her father hadn’t exactly been very motivated to work on himself before, so it didn’t feel too likely to be the case now. Still, he’d come all this way to see her, and he’d appeared to have taken the time to sober up, so M.J. still felt like she should at least give him the slightest benefit of the doubt.

Removing her helmet and strapping it to her bike, M.J. ventured into the main lobby of the hotel, walking up to the woman at the front desk. Explaining who she was and why she was here, she took care of the payment.

“Also,” she said, “can you tell me what room he’s staying in please?”

“304,” the lady replied.

“Thank you,” M.J. said, walking towards the elevator. As she got in, she could feel her heartbeat go up a few notches. She took a couple breaths in through her nose to steady herself just in time for the doors to open, and she walked out. Finding the room number in question, she gave three knocks. Within seconds the door opened.

“You came,” her father said, almost looking surprised.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Anyway, I took care of the room, so you’re covered for two more weeks.”

“Great, thank you,” he replied. “Would you want to come in?”

Mary Jane took a moment to think it over; she still wasn’t 100% comfortable with being around him for too long yet, but she had to start somewhere. She stepped inside and he shut the door behind them.

“Your timing is pretty great actually,” he said, “I just got back about twenty minutes ago from a job interview. It’s too early to know for sure, but I’m pretty sure I’m getting the job.”

“Really,” M.J. said. “What is it?”

“An associate professor position in the English department at ESU,” he replied. “Isn’t that great?”

M.J. nodded hastily. “Yeah, absolutely.”

“Really?” her father asked. “Because it doesn’t sound like your very enthusiastic.”

M.J. hung her head for a moment; she didn’t want to disrupt her father’s positive momentum, but still, she had to be realistic.

“I’m guessing they still need to run a background check?” she asked.

“Yeah, but.........that was five years ago,” her father countered, “and it was just a drunken disorderly charge.”

“That you still did time for,” Mary Jane reminded him.

“But I have the AA card to prove I completed the necessary rehab,” her father argued.

“I know, it’s just......” M.J. paused. She wasn’t sure how to convey this point very gracefully. “I hope you get it, but I also don’t want you to get your hopes up either.”

“Why are you trying to shoot me down like this?” her father asked, a confused expression on his face.

“I’m not,” M.J. contended. “I want you to get it.”

“I believe I will,” her father reiterated.

“Good for you,” Mary Jane replied. “Well, I still need to grab something to eat really quick before heading back to work, so I better get out of here.” She turned and began walking toward the door, but her father spoke up.

“You want to grab something together?” he asked. “It might be good for us, you know?”

M.J. spun around just enough to look at him.

“I think it’s a little early for that,” she replied.

“I understand,” her father replied, nodding lightly. “Maybe some other time then.”

“Maybe,” M.J. said before heading out the door.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“Thank you so much for everything, Mrs. Parker,” Eddie said.

“It’s not a problem,” May replied, “and please, just call me May. You can even put it on the record if you want.”

Eddie chuckled.

“I’ll remember that,” he said before turning to Peter. “I’ll go get our spots for the unveiling.”

“Cool, I’ll be right there,” Peter responded. Once Eddie was out of earshot, he turned to May.

“Before you say anything,” she said, clearly having anticipated this conversation, “I'll be spending most of my time inside, so don’t worry. I’m not about to get caught in some crossfire that might not even happen, by the way.”

“I know,” Peter said, “I just......”

“You have a feeling,” May said, letting out a sigh. “Well, you’re the experienced superhero between the two of us, so I’m not going to tell you to just ignore your gut, but at least try not to worry too much. I know that’s like telling water not to be wet, but I thought I’d give it a try.”

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle a little at May’s analogy.

“Well, I can’t say I haven’t learned from the best when it comes to worrying at least,” Peter countered.

May’s jaw dropped.

“Peter Benjamin Parker,” she said, putting her hand to her heart, “what on earth could you be insinuating?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Peter said nonchalantly, “I just know this woman who worries all the time about some nephew of Her's, though I have no idea why. I mean, it’s not like he’s done a dangerous thing a day in his life. He’s really quite boring, if I do say so myself.”

May playfully slapped him on the side of the arm as she laughed silently.

“I guess the only reason she does worry is because she has a big heart,” Peter continued, his tone becoming more sincere. “She doesn’t give it away easily, but once she does, there’s nothing she won’t do for that person. Sometimes it hurts her, but she somehow still manages to be the most joyful person I know. I’m not sure how she does it honestly, but..........she inspires me.”

“Aww,” May said, giving her nephew a hug, which Peter gladly returned.

“See, I can be nice sometimes,” Peter said.

“Sometimes,” May reiterated. Peter could’ve sworn she was starting to tear up a little, evidenced further by her wiping her left eye.

“Well, I better get in there,” she said, “and you better find your seat. I worked hard to make sure the Bugle’s photographer could have the best spot possible for pictures, and I’d hate to see all that effort go to waste.”

“Yes ma’am,” Peter replied dutifully. “Thanks again May, for everything.”

“Of course,” May replied before turning and walking into the building. As she did, it was hard for Peter not to feel a tad uneasy still, but he was intent on trying to take May’s advice. He understood that he worried and worried a lot, and he knew that it wasn’t the best thing for his physical or mental health, spider powers and all. Maybe, just for today, he could find a way to not worry too much.

With any luck, he just might enjoy himself a little too.

Peter walked over to the front row seat he and Eddie had for the unveiling and demonstration of this new power source before its proper full installation.

“Your aunt really hooked us up,” Eddie said.

“Yeah, I guess that’s what a good reputation combined with a determined personality can get you,” Peter replied. “Being around for years also helps I guess.”

“You two seem really close,” Eddie noted.

Peter couldn’t help but smile.

“She basically raised me,” he said, “her and my Uncle Ben. She’s had to put up with a lot over the years.”

“I’ll bet,” Eddie jabbed, drawing a look from Peter.

“Anyway,” Peter continued, “she’s pretty much the only family I have left. I’d do just about anything for her.”

Eddie nodded, his expression turning surprisingly solemn.

“What about you?” Peter asked. “You still have much family?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirmed, “my parents still live over in Brooklyn. They’re great, other than the fact that they won’t leave me and Anne alone about when we’re finally going to give them grandchildren. They’ve always been very supportive though, even when they didn’t understand why I turned from wanting a career in the NFL to journalism.”

“Sounds nice man,” Peter said. “Well, accept for the constant pestering about grandchildren.”

“What’s funny is they talk like Anne and I have already hit forty and we’re going to be too old to enjoy our kids as they get older,” Eddie admitted. “We’ve tried to reiterate to them that we do want kids, just once we’re sure we’re ready; oh, and that we’re both barely thirty too.”

“I guess I should consider myself lucky I don’t have that problem,” Peter joked.

“There are many wonderful sides to marriage,” Eddie replied, “but parents and in-laws constantly questioning you about grandkids is NOT one of them.”

Peter laughed, but deep down, it was hard for him on some level not to want that problem for himself. He’d always struggled to some degree with the concept of family; as much as May and Ben loved him, he still felt displaced growing up. He’d tried not to dwell too much on the topic of having his own family once he’d lost the person that he’d wanted to share that with, but it was still hard not think about from time to time.

Fortunately, the presentation appeared to be getting under way, so at least Peter had something else to focus on. He grabbed his camera, already preparing in the hopes of getting the best shot possible. A gentleman dressed in what looked like a very expensive suit came up to the stage to address the crowd.

“Good afternoon,” he said. “Thank you all for being here today.”

That’s when Peter felt it: his spider sense. The tingling sensation was particularly poignant and it was directing him upward, so he looked up to see none other than Adrian Toomes, the Vulture, come flying in from up high. He swore he could see some guns of some kind mounted on his back pointing down, which suddenly opened fire towards the crowd below.

Instinctively, Peter grabbed Eddie and dived out of the line of fire.

“You good?” Peter asked.

“I think so,” Eddie replied. “Looks like we have a different story to cover now.”

Peter looked up to see Vulture making a nosedive toward the crowd before pulling up. The green winged enemy seemed almost like he was acting more like a distraction, maybe even to draw Spider-Man out.

Well, if he wanted Spider-Man, that’s what he was going to give him.

“I’ll be back,” Peter said, starting to get up. “I need to check on May.”

“Do what you need to man,” Eddie affirmed, and that was all that Peter needed. He sprinted off, eventually finding a somewhat closed off area near the backside of the building where he ditched his street clothes, revealing his Spider-Man suit underneath. He slipped on his mask as he raced up the side of the building, making his way toward the rooftop. He then ran back in the direction of the crowd, spying Vulture as he did so.

Timing his leap, he jumped off just in time to catch his enemy unprepared, landing on his backside.

“Hey, you old buzzard, long time no see!” Peter shouted. “Tell you what, if we’re going to catch up, how about we do it somewhere else?”

Firing web lines onto both of Vulture’s wings, Peter tried to steer him away from the crowd, but his opponent resisted. The result was an uneven back and forth struggle, with no clear direction as to where they were going. Vulture managed to throw him off after a moment, with Peter landing back on the hospital wall.

“I’d wondered if you might be here wall crawler,” Toomes said. “Now my friends and I get to finish you off!”

“Friends?” Peter said, when his spider-sense went nuts again. He looked to the side to see a tentacle made of sand flying at him, and he flipped up out of the way.

“Hey Marko, missed you too man!” Peter greeted. “Look, guys, if you wanted a visit, all you had to do was ask. Seriously, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

His enemies said nothing in response, instead coordinating an attack, with Vulture taking the air and Sandman the ground. Peter’s spider sense led him to twist and turn out of the way just in time, but it was only enough to avoid blows, not deal any of his own.

As he was working to fend them off while keeping them away from the crowd, Peter noticed a third guest to the party: Rhino, who was focused on stealing the machine.

“Hey Aleksei,” Peter shouted, “no taking what doesn’t belong to you, remember?”

Just as he was heading in Rhino’s direction, his spider sense rang out yet again as Vulture swooped, barely missing him. Unfortunately, this set him up to get wacked by Sandman, sending him crashing into the building itself. Peter landed in a heap, surrounded by debris. Marko came after him looking for more, wrapping him up tightly before throwing him through multiple walls, causing him to collapse again.

His whole body already was aching from the impacts, but Peter wasn’t about to give up. Plus, May was in here somewhere. He had to get Sandman back outside. He narrowly avoided a crushing blow from the villain, diving out a window and forcing himself to fire a web to swing from again, despite his aches and pains. He found a water hydrant, landing in front of it.

“Come on, Sandy,” Peter jabbed, “afraid to get up close and personal with your favorite wall crawler?”

“I’m not afraid of anything!” Mark protested. He formed his fist into a hammer and came running, and Peter leapt out of the way for him to bring it down right on the fire hydrant, causing it to burst and water to spray onto him, reducing him to a muddy mess. He would reform, but not for a while.

Making his way back, Peter found that Sandman had been a bigger distraction than he realized: Rhino and Vulture were gone, and the power source along with them. How had he let himself get so sidetracked? The good news was no one in the crowd seemed to be seriously injured, so at least he’d managed to keep them safe, which was his number one priority, always.

But what about May? The fight between him and Marko had shook things up quite a bit, so he ventured inside to try and find her to make sure she was okay. He found the hospital staff checking on each other, but there was no sign of his aunt.

“Excuse me, is everyone okay?” he asked a nurse.

“I think so,” she replied somewhat shakily.

“I’m looking for someone; a May Parker,” he asked. “Have you seen her?”

“She’s still who we’re looking for,” the woman replied. “She was heading to drop off some samples in the infectious disease area; someone was going to check on her.”

Without responding, Peter raced to the room, bursting through the doors. His eyes quickly scoured the area, and in seconds he found her.

She was lying unconscious on the ground.

Chapter Text

Peter ran over to his aunt, crouching down beside her.

“May?” he asked, his voice light and shaky. He put two fingers on her neck, a great relief washing over him as he picked up a pulse. Still, she needed help.

Ironically, it was just around that time that whoever was sent to check on her showed up in the door. They started to come in but then stopped, putting their hand over their face.

“She’s alive,” he said, “but she needs help.”

The nurse said nothing, instead raising her hand, pointing in what looked like his direction. Peter looked around, scouring the area surrounding himself and eventually found what she was pointing at: a series of broken containers that had produced different color stains on the floor, and there was even some mist that still resided near the floor next to him. In a sense, Peter was lucky he didn’t just inhale a ton of whatever this stuff was by rushing in. Granted, his spider sense would’ve warned him if it was still dangerous anyway, but somehow, he could picture himself ignoring that given the gravity of the situation.

“I’m going to get a containment team in here,” the nurse finally spoke up. “Don’t worry, we’ll get her help.”

It didn’t take that long for a team to make their way into the room, each one of them wearing hazmat suits for extra protection. Some of them began the process of cleaning up, while others scooped up May, wheeling her out of there quickly. Peter, still in his Spider-Man outfit, tried to follow her, but was stopped by part of the cleanup team.

“Sorry Spidey, but you can’t leave until we’ve checked to make sure you’re not a risk to spread anything.”

Peter sighed quietly to himself. The last thing he wanted right now was to be separated from May, but he understood that these people were just doing their due diligence that came with the job, so he cooperated.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The next twenty-four hours were some of the longest Peter had ever endured.

First off, it took the crew three hours just to determine that he had come into the lab too late to have whatever had gotten into the air contaminate his suit. That was a relief at least, since he didn’t exactly have a spare sitting around at his apartment right now, but still, it was an annoyingly long process.

Once that was done, Peter recovered his street clothes from where he’d left them as the battle had gotten started. He’d learned a long time ago to make sure they were stashed somewhere secure, lest someone come along and steal them just because they were there. Granted, the person might not have really KNOWN they were stealing them, given that they just looked like they’d been left behind, but still. It had happened before, and it was very annoying.

May ended up being put into a completely quarantined room for several hours until they could at least determine that there was no longer a danger of her spreading what she’d been exposed to. Peter remained at the window the entire time. A speaker system was in this room, so the two of them could talk when she wasn’t being tested. Through it all, she remained steadfast and patient, but he could tell that she was eagerly looking forward to the whole thing being over and hopefully coming out of it alright, and he was looking forward to the same, even if his nerves wouldn’t allow him to properly hope for such results.

Eddie had been kind enough to stay with him during the initial situation, coming back to visit today and sitting with Peter even now. He’d been nervous that his coworker would try to tell him that it was going to be fine, that May would make it out of this alright, and make other assurances he couldn’t possibly know for sure. Thankfully, Eddie actually restrained himself quite well, simply sitting quietly with him, making occasional conversation to help pass the time. Anne even came by to bring them some home cooked food as well, offering her sympathy for Peter’s situation.

As they continued to wait out the situation, Eddie spoke up.

“What’s your favorite memory with her?”

Peter didn’t even turn from looking in the room as he pondered the question.

“After my Uncle Ben died,” he began, “her and I were kind of at odds for a little bit. We were grieving in different ways, and we were always worried about each other. Over time though, we figured out how to come together on it, but there was still this.........disconnect. Ben was always the one I was closest to; we used to do projects around the house together all the time. It was just kind of our thing, you know?

Anyway, one day, I came home from getting some groceries to find that May had a bunch of paint out in the kitchen. She said that she felt it was time for a fresh coat, but she was thinking about changing the color a little bit. I thought that was fine; I didn’t really care too much one way or another........until she said she wanted to paint it lime green. I told her that was a terrible idea, and I proposed an alternative based on the other options we had. As we debated which color to go with, she did the most random thing: she brushed my left cheek with the lime green paint!

Of course, there was no way I was going to let her just get away with that, so I grabbed a brush of my own and proceeded to try and give her a new blue complexion. We chased each other around the kitchen for a while, getting in the occasional brushing on our clothes and faces where we could.”

Peter couldn’t help but smile throughout most of the story.

“That was one of the first times that I can remember her being so silly,” he added. “She was always the more serious one, which was probably a good thing for mine and my uncle’s sake. But we never really had a lot of fun before that when it was just the two of us. That day though, where we made an absolute mess of the kitchen and spent hours cleaning it up afterwards...........it was the breakthrough we needed. After that, we just seemed to get along better than we ever had before. We talked more, we were more open, and we started having fun together.”

Peter turned to see Eddie having a solemn but genuine smile on his face.

The door to the room suddenly opened, and the doctor stepped out, looking at Peter.

“Mr. Parker, please, come in,” he said, his expression as even as possible. Peter stood up, as did Eddie.

“I better get going,” Peter’s coworker said. “I’ll leave you to it. Good luck.”

Peter nodded.

“Thanks for coming.”

As Eddie took his leave, Peter walked into the room, rushing over and embracing May in a hug.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her.

“Better,” she said. “Still a little not quite myself, but getting there.”

The two of them then turned to the doctor.

“What’s going on with her?” Peter asked.

“Well, that’s complicated,” the doctor replied.

“What do you mean?” May asked.

“You were exposed to several different chemical agents,” he said, glancing down at the papers in his hand. “On their own, each of these things have various potential side effects ranging in severity, but mixed together.........we’ve never seen a case like this before.”

“Doctor, where are you going with this?” Peter asked.

“To be perfectly honest with you two, we have no way of really knowing going forward what will happen,” the doctor answered. “In some ways, it’s a miracle the combination of it all hasn’t already killed you. There could be a range of different affects that still pop up though, or the various agents could’ve all neutralized each other, and you might be perfectly fine.”

“So,” May spoke up softly, sounding out her words as she continued, “you’re saying that, for all you know, I could either die tomorrow or live to be a hundred still?”

“That’s why, as much as I hate to do this, we’re going to have to keep you here under observation indefinitely May,” the doctor instructed. “We need to be ready for any scenario.”

“How long are we looking at right now, doctor?” Peter asked.

“It’s too early to say for sure, son,” the doctor answered. “We’ll reevaluate her every day, and if she continues to improve and be symptom-free, we’ll talk further about what this all might look like going forward.”

Peter’s eyes dropped to the floor; neither he or May seemed to have anything to say as silence filled the room.

“May,” the doctor said, approaching them both, his papers now at his side. Peter and May both faced him now as he continued: “everyone in this place is aware of how much you’ve poured into their lives and this job over the last several years, and there is not a thing anyone in this building wouldn’t do for you right now. I never make promises to patients about outcomes, but what I can tell you is that we are all ready to do whatever we can to help you figure this out and deal with it as you need to. If you need anything at all in the meantime, all you have to do is ask.”

May nodded.

“Thank you.”

The doctor then exited the room to make the necessary arrangements for May to get a proper room. Left to his own thoughts for a moment, Peter almost felt as if he wasn’t in his own reality anymore. It wasn’t like his recent multiversal excursion, but it felt like he wasn’t even in his own body, like he was just floating around somehow. There was so much uncertainty going through his head right now, so many questions that couldn’t be answered yet, and so many fears permeating his body all the way down to his soul.

He looked at May, trying to offer a light smile.

“Don’t do that,” she said.

“Do what?” Peter said, tears threatening to well up in his eyes.

“I know what’s going through your mind right now,” she said.

Peter nodded. There was no point in denying it.

“I should’ve done more to keep the fight outside,” he said, his voice breaking. I should’ve just hung out in the suit and waited for them, so I could’ve stopped them sooner. I should’ve......”

“Hey,” she said, raising her hands to his cheeks, a compassionate but determined expression on her face. “Look at me. This is not your fault, okay? For all we know, even if you had done those things, this could’ve still happened exactly as it did.”

Peter wasn’t sure he believed that, but he refused to argue.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I shouldn’t make this about me. This is about you, and how I want you to know that I will be here every step of the way, okay? Whatever you need me to do, whatever comes next, I will help you get through this in any way I can.”

May nodded, and for the first time since this whole mess began, her eyes finally started to well up. She’d been being strong for Peter when she knew he was feeling guilty; she’d been holding it all in front of him and her coworkers. But now that it was just the two of them, her strong façade was finally starting to crack.

“Hey,” Peter said, drawing closer to her. “It’s okay.”

He leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. Eventually they pulled each other into a hug, and Peter could feel May bury her face on his shoulder. They just stood there, not worrying about what people might be thinking or who might be watching.

In that moment, Peter Parker made a quiet promise to himself: he wasn’t going to lose May like this.

He wasn’t.

No matter what it took.

Chapter Text

A week came and went, and still no answers.

In a way, Peter felt like this should be a good thing. The doctor had told him and May that there was a fifty-fifty chance that everything May had been exposed to essentially cancelled each other out since there were no immediate physical effects obvious. His aunt had endured daily testing and observation, and all signs seemed to point to her being in the clear. Still, Peter couldn’t help but have a bad feeling that they were getting off too easily right now.

May was so strong through it all. It probably helped that she knew all the doctors and other nurses so well, but she simply did whatever they told her to do with no questions asked, not complaining even once. Peter was impressed; if their positions were reversed, he pictured himself being a much more stubborn and probably annoying patient to deal with. He could tell the process was wearing on her, but she maintained an overall positive outlook on the situation, seemingly even more so as the days went on.

Peter had offered to take off work to stay with her, but she’d refused, saying that the last thing she needed was him disrupting his life for something that might not even end up being that big of a deal. He understood where she was coming from, and honestly, he felt it was the right decision more and more as the week went on. Staying busy between the Bugle and patrolling the city helped prevent him from going completely insane with worry. He still felt a little guilty for being away from her most of the average day, and he made a point of visiting frequently, bringing her anything she requested (that part she wasn’t as shy about).

From a Spider-Man standpoint, Peter was having just as little if not even worse luck. He sought any lead he could find, but the trail of the villains was dead. He checked intently on the web, at work, and in every shady looking building in the city (which, to be fair, was a lot to cover by itself), but there was no sign of the so called “Master Planner” and those in his service. The police scanners he piggybacked on weren’t picking up any recent activity involving anything even remotely related to the tech thefts either.

All of this greatly concerned Peter. To him, a lull in activity at this stage after being so active likely meant that whoever was behind this was close to their endgame. His desperation was growing, and he was trying to think of anything he might’ve missed; any clues he might’ve overlooked in this case. Whoever the mastermind of this whole thing was, they had taken great steps not to reveal themselves, instead relying on others to do their dirty work for them.

Between his concern for May and his fears for the city, Peter’s anxiety wasn’t getting any better. He found himself having difficulty focusing on the job, catching himself constantly tapping his foot against the floor or fingers on the desk in fits of nervousness. Robbie must have taken notice, because he offered to give Peter some time off to be with his aunt. He refused though, saying he needed to work, and that was true, but for some reason, it still wasn’t enough.

He’d considered popping over next door to visit with Mary Jane, but he never could bring himself to make the very short trip. Peter had come to enjoy her company very much; she was fun and always had a very contagious energy that made him feel better. Those were obviously all good things, but still, a hesitation lurked in Peter’s mind whenever he thought of her. It was a nervousness that likely meant something he wouldn’t even let himself think about and he made every effort to shut down such thoughts when they did arise.

Still, even with everything going on, Peter couldn’t help but wonder about her.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“Alright Liz, I’m heading out for the day,” Mary Jane said as she walked past her friend and business partner at the checkout area.

“Hey, M.J,” Liz said, seemingly making a point to say it in a way to make her stop and actually look at her.

It worked too.

“Good luck,” she added. M.J. simply nodded in response, offering as hopeful a smile as she could before walking out the door of their store. It had been a little over a week since she’d last seen her father, and she was hesitant to go even now.

Honestly, even as she hopped on her bike and strapped on her helmet, she wasn’t a hundred percent sure why she was going to see him in the first place, especially since she wasn’t sure what she was going to find. Mary Jane had been nervous for him ever since her last visit, partially because she feared what the potential results of his job prospects would do to him. At the same time, he had gone through the effort (even if it might’ve been court ordered) of rehabilitating himself, and he really did seem different than she remembered.

Mainly, it was that she had never seen him this positive before. For years, he’d been one of the more negative people she knew, constantly complaining and even angrily venting about the struggles he was going through in life. Now, however, he seemed genuinely excited about his future.

As she fired up her bike, Mary Jane made a point to tell herself that maybe, just maybe, she should at least try to be the same. She spent the moderately long ride out to the hotel trying her best to cultivate this mentality, but her inner pessimist continued to resist. By the time she arrived, she had resolved to just not have any real expectations. That way, no matter what, she wouldn’t be too caught off guard...........hopefully.

After an elevator ride that felt particularly slower than normal, M.J. walked to the room door, offering a few knocks. When no one answered after about twenty seconds, she tried again.

Finally, the door was unlocked and slowly opened to reveal her father, whose eyes widened as soon as he saw her. He looked terrible; his hair was all ruffled up and his eyes had a droopy look to them before he’d looked at her. But it wasn’t what she could see about him that got her attention.

It was an all too familiar smell.

“Mary, hey,” he said, “I uh, wasn’t expecting you.”

Ignoring him, she burst past him into the room, scanning the area but not finding what she was looking for.

“It’s good to see you though,” her father said, closing the door and walking up to her.

Mary Jane spun around to face him; he was close enough where she again caught a familiar whiff.

“You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?” she accused, getting right to the point.

“What? No,” her father insisted, “no, I don’t know why you would think.......”

“I can smell it in your breath, dad,” M.J. pointed out. “Did you go to a bar somewhere?”

Her father’s expression looked defeated, like he knew he couldn’t hide it anymore.

“Mary,”

“Did you!?” she reiterated sternly, her blood already beginning to boil with anger.

Her father looked down, and his inability to face her confirmed her suspicions.

“Oh wow, dad,” M.J. said spinning back to face the window, her hands shooting to her head in shock. She didn’t even really know how to feel right now; so many thoughts and emotions were running through her mind and soul. Her stomach turned on itself and she felt sick, even though she knew she wasn’t.

Finally turning back to face him, she dared to ask the question.

“Why? After everything that’s happened, after all your effort in getting sober.......”

“I’ve.........I’ve had a hard week,” he said meekly, still only occasionally glancing her way. “The job opportunity I thought I lined up fell through, as did some similar ones. After one I got this morning, I just.........I needed to blow off some steam.”

“So, what?” M.J. questioned, “you just go running back to the very thing that got you into all this trouble in the first place? The thing that got you thrown in jail?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Like I said, I needed to blow off some steam, and since I didn’t have any way to contact you.......”

“Stop it!!” M.J. snapped, her anger now at the forefront. “Stop it; stop looking for someone or something else to blame! All my life, you have done nothing but run to your stupid drink or blame me or my sister anytime something doesn’t go your way instead of taking responsibility and accepting it. You ruined our lives and our relationship because you refuse to simply do the work it takes to get anywhere! Newsflash, the world doesn’t owe you a THING!

How do you think Liz and I got to where we are? We started small, and we worked HARD for it. There were a lot of days early on where it wasn’t easy, but eventually, we made something of ourselves. You expect everything to just be handed to you, but you know what? Life doesn’t happen that way!”

Her father had no response to her words, leading to an uneasy silence filling the room.

“Just to be clear, you get the rest of the days I paid for, and that’s it,” M.J. said. “So, you better start thinking of some new living arrangements.”

Mary Jane then walked past him; she heard him call for her, but she ignored him, making a quick exit out of the room and the building.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Peter slowly drudged his way up the stairs to his apartment; for some reason, taking the elevator hadn’t even occurred to him. He’d just come from another visit with May, and still there weren’t any answers. By all accounts, she seemed to be doing okay, but the doctors still had some concerns about some mildly unusual activity going on in her brain, so she was going to stay a little longer.

He didn’t have any real plans for the evening; he probably was just going to change into his Spider-Man suit after grabbing a quick bite to eat and head out for his nightly patrol. He would probably once again turn up nothing regarding the whereabouts of the Master Planner, just like he had the last several nights, but at this point, it was like a routine he just couldn’t give up.

He opened the door to his floor, turning and walking down the way to his room. As he approached his door, he heard the ding of the elevator, instinctively turning his head that way out of curiosity. It was Mary Jane, but she didn’t look herself. Rather, she looked angry, an expression that looked terrifying on her, and Peter’s mind was suddenly overwhelmed with concern. As she got out her keys to unlock her door, he dared to approach her.

“Hey,” he said meekly, “is everything okay?”

M.J. dropped her keys.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” she said in a very unbelievable tone.

“Okay,” he said, “just wanted to make sure. It’s just that you seemed a little........”

“What do you want me to say, Peter?” she questioned, a still angry expression on her face as she looked at him, terrifying Peter down to his very soul. “That everything’s always okay, that my family life isn’t a total wreck? That my father will always go back to his old habits, that he.........”

Mary Jane cut herself off, shifting her focus on unlocking the door and letting herself in. She didn’t close it behind her though, so Peter carefully walked in, hoping he properly read that this was an invitation for him to do so. M.J. was partially leaning against the counter in the kitchen, facing the opposite direction.

“I’m sorry,” she said as he closed the door behind him. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay,” Peter offered. “My aunt and uncle used to yell at me a lot worse than that.”

Slowly, M.J. rotated her body so that she could face him.

“Remember that friend I told you about that came back into my life recently?”

Peter nodded.

“Well, it was my dad,” Mary Jane explained. “He’d been.........away for a while, dealing with drinking issues. Anyway, he showed up one night after Liz and I closed, showed me some AA card, bought me lunch and somehow started to convince me that he was on the path to changing himself, but you know what I found out when I visited him today? He’d been drinking earlier, all because a few job prospects didn’t go his way.”

Peter walked up a little closer to M.J, stopping just a few feet in front of her.

“I can’t believe I actually let myself believe he could change,” she said. “It’s not even just his drinking; he doesn’t understand that life is hard, and that sometimes, things just aren’t going to go his way. But no, instead of reevaluating his options and trying to figure something out, do you know what he had the nerve to say to me? He actually insinuated that, if he had had a way to contact me, he wouldn’t have done it. What am I supposed to do, babysit him twenty-four seven?”

Peter couldn’t find any words to say as M.J. paused, but she quickly continued.

“He’s always done this,” she said, her voice starting to break. “Ever since mom died, he has done nothing but blame me and my sister or run to his precious alcohol when things go wrong in his life, instead of taking responsibility for it. I’ve worked so hard to get where I am and I thought maybe, just maybe, that he might see that when he showed up out of the blue and apply it to himself, but no, he just falls back into old habits! Well, you know what, no more! I’m done helping him! He needs to figure it out for himself now, but I’m not about to spend one more second getting hurt by that man all because he refuses to......”

Mary Jane’s slowly tearing eyes met Peter’s finally, and she froze.

“What?” she asked, her voice breaking even more. There was so much packed into that one word; it was as if she was questioning everything Peter thought of her anymore.

Peter answered the only words that would come to mind right now.

“I’m sorry that this is happening to you.”

M.J. finally broke down, throwing her arms around Peter back, and he could feel tears rapidly soaking into his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her, giving a firm but still gentle squeeze, trying to convey as much comfort and understanding as he could without words. This only caused her to sink even more into him, and for a long time, they just stood there together, wrapped in each other’s arms as Mary Jane just let loose. Peter found his heart breaking for her as well; each new sob wrecked him on the inside more and more.

In this dark, sad moment, Peter was finally starting to realize just how much he cared for Mary Jane Watson.

Chapter Text

Peter couldn’t believe his luck.

He thought for sure he’d fixed his toaster, but the slices of bread he’d inserted came out a much darker color than they were supposed to, and a lot crispier as well. For some reason, no matter what setting he put it on, it had always run particularly hot. Peter had taken it apart, fooled around with it and put it back together time and again, but nothing had worked. The irony was almost hilarious in that he could do something crazy like create an antiserum to cure a lizard person but couldn’t fix his toaster.

Some scientist he was.

Looking around the kitchen area, Peter contemplated other sources of breakfast. He didn’t really have much to go with. He’d never really had a fully stocked kitchen since he’d moved out, always making sure to have just enough to get by while still saving money for rent and, well, suit repairs and stuff. Unfortunately, on a day like today, where his stomach was really starting to let him know it needed sustenance, it was only showing yet another way that he didn’t properly take care of himself.

He was about to reach for a couple of granola bars he’d stumbled across, when suddenly there was a knock on his door. Peter had no idea who it could be, given that it was so early in the morning. He hadn’t even really ordered anything recently, not that he did much of that in the first place. Walking over to the door, Peter unlocked it and opened it to find none other than Mary Jane, who was holding a box of donuts.

“Here,” she said, holding out the assortment of pastries to him.

“Uhm, thanks,” Peter said curiously as he slowly took the box. “Not that I’m complaining, but what are these for?”

“Call it a thank you/I’m sorry for last night,” M.J. said, ringing her hands together. It was strange to see her appear this nervous. Peter thought about trying to reassure her that it wasn’t a big deal, but he was getting the sense that it was to her at least, so he stopped himself.

“You want to come in?” he asked, stepping aside to allow a path for her. She took him up on it, moving just enough inside for him to shut the door. She looked like she had something she really wanted to say but couldn’t quite find the words to put out there, so Peter decided to break the tension a little.

“You know, these were actually a godsend,” he said, holding up the box of donuts before setting them on the counter. “My toaster broke earlier, and I don’t really have a lot of groceries right now.”

“I wondered why it smelled a bit smokey in here,” M.J. teased.

“Yeah,” Peter replied as he took out a donut from the box and took a bite. “Some future Nobel prize winner I am.”

Realizing he was being rude by talking with his mouth full, Peter covered his lips in embarrassment, a move which provoked a small smile from M.J.

“Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly.

“It’s fine, really,” Mary Jane assured him. She hesitated before continuing, like she was summing up the courage to say what she needed to say, which caused Peter’s mind to race as his concern grew over what exactly that was.

“Listen, Peter, I...........I’m sorry for unloading on you like that last night,” she finally said. “I know you say it’s not a big deal, but I........I’ve never really been the best at expressing that side of myself, even after years of therapy, so I know it came out really messy.”

“I think on some level we’re all a bit of a mess,” Peter replied. “I guess sometimes it’s just an inevitable thing that we can’t keep it contained anymore.”

“You talk like you’re experienced in this,” M.J. said.

Peter let out a huff through his nose. Oh, if she only knew.

“Something like that,” he said.

“Anyway, I wanted to thank you for just being there last night,” M.J. stated, her voice still a little more somber compared to her more upbeat and livelier usual. “It really meant a lot.”

“Of course,” Peter said. He then heard a buzzing, and he didn’t even need to check his phone to know what it was.

“That’s my cue actually,” he said, moving over to grab his phone and his camera gear. “I need to get to the hospital before work.”

“Hospital?” M.J. asked, her tone suddenly flooded with concern. “Why? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” Peter answered hurriedly, “my aunt is there though; they’re just trying to make sure she’s okay after an accident she had. I just try to make a point to visit her as often as I can.”

“Oh, okay,” M.J. replied. “That’s nice of you.”

Grabbing the box of donuts, Peter and M.J. exited the apartment.

“Peter,” Mary Jane spoke up as he was locking the door.

“Yeah?” Peter questioned.

“If you ever need, well, anything, I just want you to know that I’m here for you.”

Peter turned to her as he finished locking his door; he didn’t respond verbally but did give a nod and a smile to show that he was acknowledging her offer.

“Thanks again for the donuts,” he said before hurrying off down the hallway.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Between that encounter and the one he had with her last night, Peter couldn’t get Mary Jane out of his mind all morning for some reason. He’d still refrained from telling May about her when he visited, keeping the focus on her and what was going on (which the doctors still weren’t sure of, only giving loose theories). It helped that he didn’t have a whole lot of time before he had to be at work anyway, so he was able to excuse himself before she got too nosy about anything.

Still, even once he got to work, it continued to mess with his head. The afternoon would likely be easier, as he and Eddie were supposed to go out and try and pick up the trail of the story regarding the tech thefts. A good distraction was just what he needed right now.

As the morning wore on, Peter went to Eddie’s desk to discuss where they would be headed later that day. He wanted to be strategic about it, given that it could help his alter ego out as well if they were able to pick up any leads, and he knew his coworker liked to go into such a scenario with a bit of a strategy as well, even if half the time he’d branch out from it when something new came up.

“By the way, how’s your aunt doing?” Eddie asked at one point in the conversation.

“She’s doing fine,” Peter answered. “I saw her this morning. I think at this point she just wants answers so she can be done with it and go home.”

“I don’t blame her,” Eddie said, slowly rotating back and forth in his chair. “I’d hate being all couped up like that, and I never have liked doctors that much.”

“Me neither,” Peter concurred. “But she’s handling it with a very admirable level of patience. It probably helps that almost none of the hospital staff are strangers to her. She at least knows that they’re doing everything they can.”

“Makes sense,” Eddie replied. “Oh, also, I was curious if you’d talked to that pretty neighbor of yours recently?”

Peter let out a sigh; of course, Eddie would bring up the one thing he was currently trying NOT to dwell on. Still, a small smile escaped onto his lips, which Eddie seemed to have caught onto, as he stopped rotating in his seat, his focus zeroed in on Peter.

“You have, haven’t you?” Eddie asked.

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Eddie,” he replied dryly. “I have talked to her; multiple times, actually.”

The look in Eddie’s eyes made Peter instantly regret sharing that last part.

“You know what?” Eddie said, looking at his watch, “why don’t we go ahead and grab something to eat, you and I.”

“What?” Peter said, confused at the randomness of the suggestion even if he could guess its purpose. “It’s not even eleven yet.”

“So?” Eddie questioned as he gathered his stuff. “It will be by the time we get our food probably.”

He then emerged from behind his desk, putting his hand to Peter’s back to guide him alongside.

“Eddie,” Peter moaned.

“Come on, Parker,” Eddie replied, ignoring his protests. “We’ve got things to talk about.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Liz’s snapping fingers brought M.J. back to reality.

“Anybody in there?” her best friend asked.

“Sorry Liz,” M.J. said, setting down her fork and rubbing her temples with her fingers.

“Are you okay?” Liz asked. “You’ve been off all day. That’s basically why I suggested going to lunch this early, because I couldn’t stand seeing you like this anymore. I thought some food might do you some good, but you’ve hardly eaten. What’s going on?”

M.J. took her time in answering. Her brain seemed like it was trying to process too much, and it made her friend’s questioning feel like an onslaught.

“I don’t know, Liz,” she finally confessed. “I just feel kind of all over the place right now.”

“Does it have to do with your father?” Liz questioned.

“Yeah, that’s definitely part of it,” M.J. said, her face already starting to warm up in frustration at his mentioning. “I got to the hotel yesterday to find out that, because he’d had a run of bad luck in his job hunt, he’d been drinking again.”

Liz’s expression shifted to one of pity and sympathy. She looked like she wanted to offer some thoughtful words, but nothing ended up coming out.

“So yeah, I had it out with him over that,” M.J. continued. “Basically, I told him he had the rest of the days I already paid for to stay in the hotel, but after that, he’s on his own.”

“M.J, I’m so sorry,” Liz replied. “Maybe this will be what he needs to finally get himself straightened out though.”

“Maybe,” M.J. said somewhat dismissively, “but I’m not holding out too much hope. Anyway, I got home last night to find Peter getting ready to go into his place, and he clearly noticed I wasn’t myself.”

“Oh?” Liz asked, perking up ever so slightly. “Did he say anything to you?”

“He asked me if I was okay,” M.J. answered. “I tried to say I was, but it didn’t do much to convince him that I couldn’t even unlock my door without dropping my keys. He spoke up again, and I about took his head off before catching myself. I don’t know why, but I ended up letting him in, and I just poured out my soul to him.”

“Oh wow,” Liz said, “how’d he take it.”

A half smile formed on M.J.’s mouth.

“He took it how I needed him too,” she replied. “He didn’t try and assure me that it would all work out or be okay; he didn’t really say anything other than that he was sorry for what was going on, and after that I basically just cried into his shoulder for a while. I was grateful for it, but also kind of embarrassed, so I got up early to get some donuts and brought them to him this morning as a way to both thank him and apologize for dumping all my problems onto him like that. Of course, he tried to talk like it was no big deal, which doesn’t really surprise me somehow.”

“Sounds like you’ve had a pretty crazy twelve or so hours,” Liz remarked.

“The worst part though is that I found out this morning that Peter’s aunt has been in the hospital,” M.J. explained. “He had to rush off to visit her before he went into work.”

“Is she okay?” Liz asked.

“He didn’t really say much,” M.J. explained. “Liz, I feel terrible! There I was dumping all my problems and issues on him, meanwhile his aunt could be facing some kind of terrible illness or something!”

“M.J, there’s no way you could’ve known that unless he’d told you,” Liz replied. “Don’t beat yourself up over that.”

“I know I shouldn’t,” M.J. said, “but I can’t help it. That’s why I made a point to tell him that, if he ever needed anything, that I was willing to be that person for him.”

“What did he say to that?” Liz asked.

“Nothing!” M.J. exclaimed, plopping her face down in her arms and letting out a frustrated moan.

Liz gave her a second before speaking up again.

“Okay, this might be a terrible time to say this, but I will anyway: I haven’t seen you this worked up over a guy EVER. You’re pouring your soul out to him, you’re feeling guilty over potentially overburdening him, and you’re even telling him that you’ll be there for him if he needs anything. I obviously can’t speak for him, but it sounds like you’re developing some pretty serious feelings on your end.”

M.J. sat back up, looking off to the side as she pondered how exactly to address her best friend’s insights.

“Up until this point, we’ve just been really casual around each other,” she finally said. “We’ll shoot the breeze, talk some small talk and even have some good laughs, but after last night...........something has definitely started to shift between us. He saw me in my worst state, the side of me that hardly anybody other than you know about, but instead of running away like I always feared, he just........held me. He let me release all my anger, all my hurt from the disappointment with my dad, and he just took it all.”

“I don’t know him for myself,” Liz said, “but from what you’re telling me, he seems like a once-in-a-lifetime kind of guy.”

“He is,” M.J. acknowledged, “but at the same time, it seems like he’s holding a part of himself back though.”

“Well, to be fair, you two have only been getting to know each other for like, what, a month or two?” Liz said. “It might just take more time for him. He just happened to catch you in a particularly vulnerable state where he got the chance to prove himself, so to speak.”

“I know,” M.J. responded, “but there was just something in his expression when I told him I was there if he needed anyone..........a loneliness. I know what that’s like, Liz, the feeling that nobody understands you or can help you, no matter how much they might try. I’m not saying I can understand what he specifically is going through, but I know that feeling of being alone and keeping a part of yourself from the world, and I don’t want him to feel that way when he doesn’t have to.”

Strangely, Liz smiled at her.

“Uhm, why are you smiling?” M.J. said curiously.

“It’s just hitting me how much you really have grown since we first met back in school,” Liz responded. “I’ve never seen you so passionate about being there for someone else before. It looks good on you.”

“Thanks,” M.J. said, “I just hope I get the chance to actually do that.”

“Oh, give it time,” Liz said, still smiling. “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll come around.”

M.J. let out a small laugh.

“Thanks Liz,” she said. “You always know what to say.”

“I’ve just had plenty of practice,” Liz replied. “I guess in that case, I should be the one thanking you, since you’re the only person I think I’ve ever really said anything like this too.”

M.J. smiled, finally diving back into her food.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Peter had made a point of getting a lot of food solely for the purpose of constantly having it to go back to so that he could put off answering Eddie’s questions. This way, he could reduce the overall quantity of questions in total during their limited time before they would have to be responsible employees and get back to work. Unfortunately, he underestimated how hungry he was even after eating most of the donuts Mary Jane had brought him earlier.

His metabolism really was something else. That, or his depriving his body of enough food to properly sustain himself on a regular basis was. Really, it was probably a mix of both.

“Well, from what little you’ve actually told me,” Eddie said, not so subtly hinting that he had picked up on Peter’s strategy, “it sounds like you two are getting along really well.”

“Yeah,” Peter responded, finishing off the last of his food, “I guess you could say that.”

Surprisingly, for the first time, Eddie took a good moment to think about what he was going to say next. He’d been asking seemingly a million questions about Peter’s interactions with M.J, but now, for the first time, he really wasn’t sure where his friend was going next.

“Peter,” he finally said, “I know you’ve lost a lot, and you’re going through some stuff with your aunt right now, but...........like I said before, I just don’t want you to pass up something great because of all that. I’m not saying you should go ask her out tonight, but it sounds like this woman is really something.”

Peter had to agree there.

“Yeah,” he said. “She is.”

“Look,” Eddie said, “all I ask is that you at least keep your mind open to the possibility that maybe it’s okay for you to be happy again, and maybe that you could even make somebody else happy too. You are actually a very nice guy, after all.”

Peter let out a light snort through his nose.

“Thanks,” he said.

He couldn’t deny that, even after all these years, part of him still really wanted someone to share his life with, someone who he could come home to every night after patrol. He hadn’t realized it until last night and again this morning, but those feelings had only intensified since he met Mary Jane. They hadn’t known each other that long, but he already felt a connection with her. She was fun, energetic, and just had so much LIFE that he felt refreshed whenever he spent time with her, no matter what he had gone through.

Last night was different though: she had connected with him for the first time on a truly emotional level, sharing her burdens that she kept from the outside world with just him. It was the first time in a long while that he’d met someone who could understand that feeling, who knew it deep in their soul. His circumstances were obviously different than M.J.’s, but she clearly shared a similar sense of loneliness and secrecy.

Every day since he’d come back from his multiversal adventure, he’d thought about what Peter-2 had said about not giving up on finding someone, sharing how he’d managed to work things out with his universe’s M.J. Every time that memory sprung to mind though, his mind would return to Gwen. It wasn’t just that he couldn’t save her, but also that he had broken his promise to her father all those years ago as the man had laid dying that he would stay away from her to keep her safe.

It was something he wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself for.

Peter’s thoughts were interrupted by the ring of his phone. He took it out to see a familiar number: the hospital. Without hesitation, he answered.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Peter,” the doctor said, “you need to come in as soon as you can. We have some news for you and your aunt.”

Chapter Text

Peter raced into the hospital, zooming past the front desk. His mind was racing even faster than his body was as he pondered what the news could be. The doctor hadn’t said much over the phone outside of the fact that he finally had news for him and May. However, the thing that kept coming back to Peter’s mind was the tone he said it in. It was calm and poised, but there had been just a hint of disappointment in it as well.

Finding the right room, Peter trotted inside, marching right up to May.

“Hey May, are you alright?” he asked. She didn’t look any different from what he could see, but given there was an update, part of him had wondered if there had been some obvious change.

“I’m a little tired, but I’m fine, at least for now,” May said. That last part stuck in Peter’s mind like discarded gum on the street.

The two of them then turned to the doctor.

“So, doc, what's the news?” Peter asked.

The doctor directed them to some images that were up on a board that appeared to scans of May’s brain.

“A couple days ago, we started noticing your aunt would struggle a little when it came to reading, and her memory on certain details was a little fuzzy here and there, so we concentrated our focus on that in particular,” the doctor answered. “Just today, we were finally able to pick up on something.”

The doctor gestured to one picture specifically.

“Are either of you familiar with the topmost part of the brain?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Peter answered, “the cerebrum is what allows for the performing of intellectual activities, like reading or planning.”

“Exactly,” the doctor replied, “and it is split into two halves, with the two sides communicating through a bunch of nerve fibers.”

“So, are the two sides s-struggling to c-communicate or something?” May asked. Her sudden stuttering did not go unnoticed by Peter. She tried to play it off as nothing, but he could see the cracks in the sturdy expression she was trying to put on.

“Kind of,” the doctor replied. “The chemical combination you were exposed to has actually been putting a pressure on the cerebrum’s abilities, kind of like when a computer struggles as it starts to contain too much data.”

“So, she’s suffering from some kind of information overload?” Peter asked.

“You could say that,” the doctor replied, “or at least her brain thinks that. Really, the chemicals are just inhibiting the cerebrum’s ability to perform its tasks and communicate across both sides.”

“But the damage is at least contained to just that part, right?” May asked.

“For now, yes,” the doctor replied, gesturing back to the pictures. “But, if you look at these pictures from a couple of days ago verses today, you can see that the problem is slowly starting to spread, so it won’t be long before it moves onto the other parts as well.”

For a moment, there was a collective silence in the room, as the end result of all this started to sink in.

“How long do I have, Greg?” May asked.

“My best estimate is about a month,” the doctor replied.

“So, what, we’re just giving up?” Peter said as he looked back and forth at both May and the doctor. “We’re just going to quit? No, there has to be something we can do, some kind of treatment we can get, or........”

“There is one possibility,” the doctor cut him off, “but it won’t be easy to get.”

“What is it?” Peter asked, his voice a bit lighter as he allowed just the slightest ray of hope into his mind.

“While there’s no approved medical treatment for this, since it’s such a unique thing, there is something being developed,” the doctor explained. “It’s a special treatment that’s still in the experimental phase. Its purpose is to expand the abilities of the human mind to handle greater strains. The idea is that it could be a potential cure for diseases like Alzheimer's, but from everything I’ve heard from a contact about it, it sounds like your best chance, May.”

“Great,” Peter said, “how do we get it?”

“That’s the hard part,” the doctor replied. “I’ve already reached out about seeing if she could participate in the trials for this thing as a volunteer and receive it that way, but they aren’t excepting anybody else. Also, because it’s still experimental, it’s not something that any kind of insurance is able to cover in any way. My contact thinks that the only way we can acquire it is if we meet an asking price for it.”

“H-how much would it be?” May asked.

The doctor let out a sigh before answering.

“$250,000.”

“A quarter of a million dollars??” May asked. “Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?”

“I’m still working with him to see if there’s any possible way to lower it,” the doctor added, “but you should start reaching out to those you know. Some of the hospital staff have already agreed to help, so I’m confident we can at least give you a decent start, but there will still be a lot to make up.”

Silence fell over the room once again. Peter struggled to process everything he was being told; basically, he was going to lose his aunt unless he miraculously came up with the better part of a quarter of a million dollars, which was much more money than he had ever seen in his entire life. Such a task felt impossible.

Still, Peter had dealt with seemingly impossible situations many times before. Granted, this was as Spider-Man, but Peter needed to look at this the same way as when he would face a crazy hostage situation or a series of bombs that needed to be disarmed in a short amount of time. Those situations had high stakes involving human lives too, and he managed to solve them. They felt impossible at the time, just like this did, but he found a way then, and he and May would find a way now, together.

“Thank you doctor,” Peter spoke up. “Could my aunt and I have a moment, please?”

“Of course,” the doctor replied before taking his leave from the room.

Peter turned to May, who still seemed to be struggling with this information. He could already see how she didn’t seem to be all there, and it made his heart sink in his chest. The dumping of news like this on her.........

“Hey,” Peter said, gently putting his hands against May’s face. When her eyes met his, the life in her seemed to return a little.

“This is going to work, okay?” he said once he had her attention. “I promise, I’m going to find a way to get that money. This treatment will work, and soon you’ll be back to your normal self, working and bugging me about girls again.”

May nodded, but Peter wasn’t sure how much she believed what he was saying. He wasn’t even sure how much of what he said had properly sunk in, but he could tell she was trying. His aunt was a fighter, and he knew that she wouldn’t go down quietly against this thing. He embraced her in a tight hug, finally allowing the tears that he’d been stifling for her sake to flow a little.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

As soon as he got home, Peter immediately got out a piece of paper and a pen, beginning to brainstorm potential ideas for raising money. He hopped online to research odd jobs that he could do, perhaps for the people around the apartment complex. He was best with technology-related issues but helping his uncle with problems around the house growing up had taught him a lot about how to fix and repair everyday things as well.

However, his enthusiasm started to dwindle as he went on, because Peter came to the realization that, even if he performed some kind of random job for every single person in his apartment complex, it still wouldn’t be anywhere close to enough. He had hoped to be able to find some way to do this where he would be able to avoid asking anybody for help; maybe it was how Ben and even May had raised him, maybe it was his stubborn pride, or a bit of both, but Peter had never been one to like to ask others for help in almost anything. Even at his lowest financially, he’d always found a way to at least scrape by, and he never wanted to feel like a burden to anybody.

This was different though. It wasn’t just about him anymore; May’s life was on the line. If ever there was anything to swallow his pride for, it was this. Still, who would he even ask? He’d already called Robbie and texted Eddie to explain the situation to them, saying he might not be at work to focus on things. After all, he was a salaried employee, which meant he couldn’t gain any extra cash that way. Both had been understanding, each one volunteering to help out as best they could, and, knowing Robbie, Peter was sure he’d reach out to others at the Bugle about this as well.

Still, that was only going to get him so far.

The more he dwelt on it, the more Peter started to chastise himself for how withdrawn he’d been from the world as Peter Parker over the last several years. He’d been so sorry for himself ever since Gwen died, thinking that focusing on the superhero over the civilian was the right thing to do. Now, however, it felt almost as if all the good he’d done as Spider-Man meant nothing, because it had left him completely helpless to save the most important person in his life.

As his mind continued to spiral, Peter thought back to Mary Jane’s offer.

“If you ever need, well, anything, I just want you to know that I’m here for you.”

Granted, she had probably meant this in an emotional sense, like how he had been there for her. Also, while she was likely more well off than he was, she wasn’t exactly rich either. After all, she ran a moderately successful store, not a global chain. Still, he needed to reach out to every possible avenue that he could.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Mary Jane pulled her bike up to its usual place, shutting it down and hopping off.

Thankfully, her talk with Liz at their early lunch had helped her get her thoughts more orderly, which enabled her to function better the rest of the day. The afternoon had ended up being very busy. Liz even speculated that it might’ve been one of their best non-holiday sale days yet. Though it had been fun to help so many other women with their attire choices, M.J. was exhausted. It was probably at least partially due to the emotional toll of everything that had gone on in just the past day or so, but the workday itself had only piled it on all the further.

Right now, nothing sounded better than some leftover pizza on the couch with a good movie playing to boot.

After emerging from the elevator onto her floor, she was surprised to see Peter standing at her door, knocking.

“I’m afraid no one’s home right now,” Mary Jane teased as she strolled up to him. “You know, this is where it might actually be nice to, I don’t know, have the number of the person who lives here maybe? That way, you wouldn’t have to wait for them to get home.”

Her teasing/flirting brought a smile to Peter’s face as well as some laughs, even as he lowered his head while doing so.

“I guess you’re right,” Peter remarked, making eye contact with her again. Mary Jane noticed something change in his expression as he did. His smile was still there, albeit a little less than before, but there was a kind of stress in his eyes, a sadness really.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “I feel like we’ve been asking that a lot of each other since we first met, but you seem like something’s on your mind.”

Peter smile started to fade as he shook his head.

“No, M.J, not really.”

“You want to come in for a moment?” M.J. asked, gesturing towards her door.

“Yeah,” Peter responded after glancing in that direction for a second. “Yeah, sure.”

M.J. pulled out her keys, unlocking and opening the door, closing it behind Peter as he entered. She discarded her keys before crashing on the couch.

“What’s up?” she asked as he took a seat on another chair in the living room. At first, he rubbed his hands back and forth against his legs, unable to look her in the eye. He then rubbed his hands together, fiddling with his fingers as he looked to the floor. Mary Jane said nothing else though, seeing that he clearly needed a moment to figure out how to say what she needed to say. She couldn’t help but feel a little nervous at it all though, but she refused to let it show on the outside.

“My aunt, uh,” he finally stammered, “I found out today that she’s dying from something very rare, and the only way to treat it is with something still experimental, so insurance can’t cover it. The hospital staff, since they all know and love her over there, they’re putting together a little something to help out, but I’m trying to think of options as well as to how we’re going to come up with the money.”

Peter finally made an extended period of direct eye contact with her.

“Look, M.J,” he continued, “I feel bad to ask, and I’m sure it wouldn’t be much in the grand scheme of things, but.............”

“Peter,” she said, stopping him, “of course I’ll help you.”

A look of both surprise and relief took over Peter’s face.

“Oh, thank you so much,” he said. “I swear, I’ll find a way to pay you back, I........”

“Uh, you’ll do no such thing,” Mary Jane replied as she took out her phone. “That’s why it’s called a gift. Here, let me look really quick.”

She pulled up her bank accounts to see what she could do. They were pretty healthy, but at the same time, it was likely just as Peter had said: anything she could do was likely pretty tiny in the grand scheme of things. Still, she wanted to be as generous as possible.

“Hold on,” she said, getting up and walking out of the room. She went to her room, where she kept a checkbook, making one out in the amount of $3,000. It would deplete her savings for some time, but it was worth it to her. She walked back to the room, handing the check to Peter.

“Here.”

His eyes widened as he took it in his hands.

“M.J, are you.......”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “Don’t worry about me.”

Peter looked back at the check, a smile coming on his face again.

“Thank you.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Peter ended up staying for a little while before taking his leave after about fifteen minutes of visiting. In that time, he filled M.J. in more on the details of what was going on, explaining that it was his aunt’s brain that was the source of the issue, as well as more specifics on the situation regarding the treatment she required.

The more he’d shared, the more her heart sunk for him, as he was clearly being put in an impossible situation. Even after he left, Mary Jane’s mind was restless, her own brain trying desperately to think of how she could help Peter beyond what she had just given him.

Suddenly, she had an idea.

Sprinting to her phone, she immediately dialed Liz, who answered after a few rings.

“Liz, I’m coming over,” Mary Jane announced. “I have something that can’t wait.”

Chapter Text

“So, what do you think?” Mary Jane asked. Her best friend didn’t answer at first; her eyes were wide, and it was almost like M.J. could see the wheels turning in her head.

“M.J,” Liz began, “I..........I don’t know how we’re going to pull this off so fast. We’re going to need to get the publicity machine running as fast as we can; we’ll need to get ads in the papers and do social media blasts on every platform that we have.”

“I’ll take care of all that,” M.J. assured her. “I’ve already been thinking about different ideas for graphics and stuff, and it shouldn’t be too hard to come up with the words.”

“Still, there’ll be a lot of stuff on the logistics side in general to handle,” Liz added.

“If I need to take on some of that too, I’m more than willing if it’s too much for you,” M.J. said.

“No, that’s okay,” Liz replied. “I can handle it. No offense, but I’m the one between the two of us with a business degree, remember?”

M.J. smirked.

“Yeah, I remember,” she answered. “Ms. Summa Cum Laude and all that.”

Liz offered only a brief smile in response, but M.J. quickly saw something else in her friend’s eyes.

“Liz, what is it?” she asked.

Liz let out a sigh, as if preparing herself to say something hard.

“M.J, I know why you’re doing this, and I think it’s great,” she began, “I just.........I know I’m not usually this pessimistic, but I also want you to be prepared that this idea isn’t going to yield the kind of results you’re hoping for.”

“We have to try,” M.J. responded firmly. “I already gave him something just from me, but I have to believe that I, that we, can do more. I know it’s not ideal in terms of how quickly it has to come together, but Peter’s aunt doesn’t have a lot of time left. We need to move on this now.”

Liz let out another sigh, but this time a big, wide smile formed on her lips as she looked at Mary Jane.

“Alright then,” she said. “Let’s get to work. I see you already brought your computer anyway, so I can tell you weren’t going to take no for an answer.”

“I just recognize how persuasive I am,” M.J. replied, drawing a light snort from her best friend.

“Go ahead and get yourself set up,” Liz said, standing up from her seat. “I’ll go put on some coffee. We have a long night ahead of us.”

As her best friend started to move to the kitchen, M.J. spoke up again.

“Liz?”

She turned around, looking expectantly at Mary Jane.

“Thank you.”

“What are best friends for?” Liz replied, shrugging as she smiled.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

M.J. groaned, slowly rubbing her eyes as the sound of her phone’s alarm filled her ears. She reached over and grabbed it, turning it off as fast as she could.

“Okay,” she said quietly, forcing herself up from the couch. She knew if she didn’t make herself get up and get going now, she’d likely just fall back asleep again. She slowly moved towards the kitchen, grabbing what was left of the pot of coffee from that night and pouring it into her cup she’d been using earlier. By now it was likely to be quite cool, something Mary Jane didn’t normally care for. However, after her and Liz’s late night, she couldn’t even be bothered with it. She just needed caffeine, and she needed it now.

The two women had ended up working almost all through the night, with M.J. currently forcing herself to get up after only a couple hours of sleep. She still had a long day planned too, starting with going to the papers in the city to get the word out about the “May Parker Monday” campaign at the store. It was why she had made a point of getting up so early: she intended to get to as many media outlets as early as possible. She also still needed to put out the social media blasts, and then there was just the regular workday to consider.

It was crazy for Mary Jane to think that there was a time back in high school and college where she could not wake up feeling like all she wanted to do was go back to bed. Back then, it seemed like there was nothing she couldn’t physically handle, but now that she was pushing thirty, it was clearly a different story. She was in better health than the average woman around her age, having made a point to exercise at least moderately from time to time, but all her body wanted to do right now was get back on her best friend’s couch and sleep the day away. If she had even gotten five or six hours, it would’ve been better, but not two.

This was for Peter and his aunt though, so nothing was going to stop her.

Mary Jane downed the last of her coffee, quickly moving to Liz’s bathroom. She got her hair as normal as it could look and overall made herself as presentable as she could before heading out the door. She was admittedly a little nervous about going for a drive on her bike on so little sleep, but her determination was strong, and the caffeine was finally starting to kick in just as she got on and fired it up, causing the bike to roar to life.

Thankfully, the ride to the Daily Bugle ended up going smoothly, and she found a place to park it before grabbing her stuff and heading to the main doors. As she approached them, she saw two men getting ready to walk into the building, one of which she recognized as the guy Peter had come into the store with that had asked her questions about the thefts.

“Excuse me!” she said, picking up the pace as she ran up to them, drawing the men’s attention.

“Oh, hello there,” the one she recognized responded, “what a surprise.” He seemed to recognize her as well, so she had that going for her at least. He extended his hand for her to shake.

“Who do we have here?” the other man asked.

“Hello,” Mary Jane said, extending her hand for the man to shake, which he accepted. “My name is Mary Jane Watson; I’m one of the owners of Madeline’s, the women’s casual fashion store downtown.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Watson,” the man replied, his grasp firm but gentle at the same time. “My name is Joe Robertson; I’m the Editor-In-Chief and Publisher here, but you can call me Robbie if you like, and it sounds like you’ve already met Eddie over here. I have to say, my wife has told me nothing but good things about your store, so it sounds like you’re doing something right over there.”

“Thank you, I’m glad we’ve been able to give her what she wants,” Mary Jane replied. “Anyway, I’m actually here on business. I apologize for the last-minute nature of this, but I have an ad that I need you guys to put up for us as soon as possible.”

She pulled out a paper copy of it that she had printed earlier, handing it to Eddie as both men examined it.

“Is this for Peter’s aunt?” Eddie asked with a curious expression on his face.

“It is,” M.J. replied. “Look, I’m willing to pay anything necessary to get this up quickly........”

“You’ll do no such thing, Ms. Watson,” Robbie replied. “Since it’s for a good cause, as well as an employee of mine, I’ll personally see to it that this gets up first thing.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” M.J. replied, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“You want to come in for a little bit?” Eddie asked.

M.J. was about to respond in the negative, since she had some other stops to make still, but then another thought crossed her mind.

“If there’s any kind of caffeine in there, absolutely.”

“Oh, I can assure you of that,” Eddie replied. She then followed them into the building, where Eddie escorted her to the nearest coffee machine. He immediately put some on while also showing M.J. who to submit a digital copy of the ad too.

“So, does Peter know about this?” Eddie asked as they waited.

“No,” M.J. replied. “I’d actually kind of like it to be a surprise, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“My lips are sealed,” Eddie replied as he put his fingers to his lips, making a zipping motion.

“Thank you,” she replied, “I have high hopes for this, but I also don’t want him to plan around getting a certain amount and then this not live up that.”

“I understand,” Eddie affirmed, “I’m sure it will do well though. I think my wife is actually planning on stopping by that day anyway, so I know she’ll be happy to help.”

“That’s great,” M.J. exclaimed with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, “I’ve been wondering when she might stop by.”

“Yeah, her work in the District Attorney’s office keeps her busy,” Eddie added.

“Wow, I’ll bet,” M.J. replied.

Finally, the coffee was ready, and Mary Jane got herself a to go cup of it, planning on downing it all by the time she got back to her bike.

“Thank you again,” she said, “I really appreciate this.”

“No problem,” Eddie replied, “anything for one Peter Parker, right?”

Something in Eddie’s tone caused M.J. to blush a little. Had Peter actually talked to him about her? She quickly forced these thoughts out of her head though, intent on staying focused.

“Tell your wife I look forward to seeing her at the store,” M.J. finally spoke up.

“Will do,” Eddie affirmed, “Oh, also, Mr. Robertson and I are planning on taking up a collection for Peter’s aunt soon as well, so maybe I can have her talk to you about a time to give our gifts together?”

“Sure,” M.J. replied, “sounds good to me.”

“Awesome,” Eddie acknowledged. “Good luck with your sale.”

“Thank you,” M.J. said politely, taking a sip of her coffee as she took her leave.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Over the next several days, Peter knocked on every single door in his apartment complex, looking for any random job he could find to do in exchange for whatever people were willing to give. Some didn’t even give him much chance to explain the why behind his surprise visit, slamming the door back in his face, and some didn’t even answer. Thankfully though, he did get several invites in, where he worked on anything from computers and TVs to toilets and showers. Not once did he encounter something he couldn’t conquer, even if some tasks were more difficult and took longer than others, and many were pleased with his work. He received small gifts from some, while others gave very generously.

After coming back from the last room in the building, Peter counted his latest round of funding, adding it up with what he had already received. Thanks to a couple larger donors this time around, he had made a little over $10,000 so far. Honestly, he had hoped for a little better; the hospital had managed to negotiate the price of the treatment from $250,000 down to $175,000, which was huge, but still a lot of money.

May was slowly starting to show more signs of slowing down too. Even over the last few days, she had struggled with basic things like reading and forming words, though Peter could still understand her pretty well. Her brain was deteoriating, and it wouldn’t be long before the rest of her followed if he couldn’t come up with the money. He had been encouraged by the hospital staff’s raising about $50,000, but there was still more to be done.

As Peter sat there, a war waging in his mind between discouragement and determination while trying to think of still more outside the box job ideas, he heard a knock on his door.

“Coming!” he yelled, getting up from his room and trotting to the door. He opened it to find both M.J. and Eddie there.

“Hey guys,” Peter said. “What are you all doing here?”

“Well, we have something for you, if we can come in,” Eddie replied.

“Sure, sure,” Peter said, opening the door further to let his visitors in. They walked over to the table, where he joined them as Eddie sat a box down that had some papers in it.

“What is all this?” he asked.

“Well,” Eddie replied, reaching into his shirt pocket, “first off, I think you might like to have this.” He handed the piece of paper to Peter, who opened the fold it was in to reveal that it was a check for $25,000.

Peter’s eyes grew wide as they remained fixed on the number.

“The boss man covered a good chunk of that, but a lot of people gave pretty generously,” Eddie said. “Oh, and Glory had the idea to have people write notes if they wanted to as well.”

He gestured toward the box, and Peter slowly put down the check, reaching in and picking up the first piece of paper he saw.

“To the most competent photographer I’ve ever worked with: I hope all this helps towards your aunt getting better soon. Oh, and thanks for helping this technologically illiterate old man keep his computer running. Ben Urich.”

Setting the paper down, Peter pulled out another.

“Hey Pete! Thanks for always believing I could make the leap from secretary to reporter one day. Your encouraging words kept me going towards my dream on the days it was hard. Hope your aunt gets well soon! Betty Brant.”

Peter sifted through more of the notes, finding some from Frederick Foswell, Glory Grant, Ed Brubaker, and Robbie Robertson himself, among others. He was stunned at how many of them shared specific things he had done for them, and how much it had meant to each of them. Over the last several years, he’d felt he was just kind of coasting through life, but somehow, he had managed to make more of an impact than he ever could’ve imagined, and now they were giving back and then some.

“But wait, there’s more,” Eddie said, drawing Peter’s attention as he gestured to M.J, who reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out a check as well. Peter took it, unfolding it to see that it was for no less than $75,000.

“How did you....”

“We had a sale at the store,” M.J. replied, “everything we earned yesterday went to a fund we set up for your aunt. It also helped that some ladies just liked what we were doing and donated very generously as well.”

Peter just stared at them, shocked. He felt like his heart was slowly undergoing a grinch-style size increase as gratitude flooded his entire being. He then reached out, throwing his arms around his friends and pulling them into a big hug.

“Thank you, thank you guys so much,” Peter said, tears of joy welling up in his eyes.

“It was our pleasure man,” Eddie replied, giving Peter a firm tap on his back before they all separated, “and of course, if you need anything else.....”

Peter couldn’t help but let out a couple of laughs at that. Anything else? Was he serious?

“I don’t know how that’s possible,” he replied, “but I’ll keep it in mind.”

He still had a lot more to go to get everything he needed, but with this unexpected show of support, Peter felt a renewed encouragement and determination growing in his mind and heart.

He was going to do this. There was no more doubt; he was going to get that money.

He was going to save May.

Chapter Text

Peter strolled into the hospital, excited to tell May the news about the support he’d received so far. He knew she’d been very uncertain of it throughout the whole process, despite the strong façade she fought to put on. He figured hearing that they were already most of the way there would help boost her spirits and perhaps give her the strength she needed to fight just a little bit harder.

He arrived in her room to find her watching TV. Her attention turned to him as he entered.

“Hey,” he said quietly, trying to curb his enthusiasm a little so that he didn’t overwhelm her. “How are you feeling today?”

“O-okay,” May replied, putting on a smile afterwards.

“I have some good news,” Peter said, “I’ve managed to raise about $110,000, so combined with what your friends here have been able to do, we’re almost there already.”

Her reaction was a bit slower than normal, but she finally managed to put on a shocked expression.

“H-how did you d-do that?” she asked curiously. Despite her stuttering, Peter was encouraged by the hope he could hear in her voice.

“I had some help,” Peter admitted. “The Bugle got a collection together, and my friend M.J. put on a special sale at her store. Both of those things helped a lot.”

May just kind of stared blankly at him. It looked like she was thinking, albeit a little slower than normal.

“We’re going to do this, May,” Peter said, gently grabbing her arms. “We’re going to make you better.”

“W-who’s M.J?” May finally asked. “I-I’ve never heard you t-talk about her before.”

Peter had to fight against rolling his eyes, his head dropping down.

“Well?” May asked.

“She’s my new neighbor, and a friend,” Peter finally replied, standing straight up again.

“J-just a friend?” May asked.

“Look May, we don’t need to talk about this right now, alright?” Peter said.

“S-so she’s m-more than a f-friend?” May persisted.

Peter shook his head.

“I think we have more important things to worry about right now,” he said.

“C-c’mon,” May insisted. “T-tell me about her. It would be g-good for me to th-think about s-something else.”

Peter let out a playfully exasperated sigh. When she put it that way, how was he supposed to resist without feeling like a terrible nephew?

“Fine,” he said, looking off to the side as he tried to think about where to begin. “Well, like I said, she owns a casual fashion store downtown with a good friend of Her's. She’s not rich or anything, but she’s doing pretty well for herself. The place has been featured in the Bugle’s top new businesses to look out for section.”

“S-so she’s a h-hard worker,” May said as if she was checking it off a list.

“Oh yes,” Peter replied. “But she’s definitely not a workaholic either. She likes to have a good time as well.”

“Hm,” May said, nodding lightly. “S-sounds like you c-could learn a thing or two from her.”

Peter let out a chuckle.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he agreed. “I don’t know, she’s..........she’s a lot of things. She’s nice, she’s fun, she’s sweet, she’s strong, she’s........”

“Pretty?” May asked.

“That too,” Peter conceded. “But I think......”

He moved over to take a seat in a chair next to May’s bed.

“I think that the biggest thing when it comes to Mary Jane is that she feels everything so deeply. Joy, hurt, anger, happiness, sadness, whatever it is, I can just tell when she’s feeling it, even if she doesn’t always show it on the outside, if that makes sense.”

“S-sounds like she’s l-like you in that way,” May replied. “I c-could always s-see those things with you.”

Peter let out a light snort through his nose, nodding. This whole conversation was a little strange, because it was like he was discovering observations about M.J. that he’d not even previously realized or thought about before.

“She’s also very loyal,” he continued. “We haven’t really known each other that long, but I can already tell that she’s the kind of person that doesn’t just give her loyalty to anybody. But once you prove that you’ll be there for her, there’s nothing she won’t do for you.”

Peter looked up to find May smiling.

“She s-sounds wonderful,” his aunt mused, “and it s-sounds like you th-think so too.”

Peter looked down to hide the smile that he could feel forming on his face.

“I better let you get your rest,” he said, rising from his seat. “Besides, I have a few jobs lined up for today to hopefully raise some more money. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Peter gave her a kiss on the top of her head, and he started to walk away before he felt a hand suddenly reach out and grab his. He turned his attention back to May, who had a pleading look in her eyes.

“P-Peter,” she started, struggling to get the next words out. “Y-you know you have a l-limited life t-too. D-don't go t-through it alone.”

Peter nodded to her, offering a gentle smile to try and reassure her before taking his leave of the room.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Even as Peter fixed a TV of one of his neighbors and cleaned the bathroom of one of May’s elderly neighbors, he couldn’t help but think back to his conversation with May. The last words she said were particularly stuck in his mind, playing over and over again, like a song that a radio station couldn’t stop putting on.

“You have a limited life too. Don’t go through it alone.”

He thought of all the support he received, not even just from M.J, but from Eddie, Robbie and the rest of the staff at the Bugle as well. He hadn’t truly put much effort in when it came to his relationships with his coworkers, but evidently, they had felt strong enough about him to help him out like they did. It could just be that they were all very generous and caring people, which he didn’t doubt about many of them, but still, the gesture even now felt almost unreal to Peter.

When he’d received the money and read the notes, he felt a sense of community that he hadn’t known for maybe his entire life. The words they shared, even if it was just about something simple that he had done, things that hadn’t even been a big deal to Peter at the time, had struck more of a chord than he would’ve guessed. Seeing how supportive they were of him in his time of need was still almost overwhelming even now.

But it was Mary Jane who had gone perhaps the most above and beyond. Peter didn’t even want to think about all the work that must’ve been involved in throwing together something like what she had so quickly. Eddie had gone on to tell him yesterday about how M.J. had approached him and Robbie with a flyer several days back, which he now realized was the day after he had first told her about May. Peter didn’t know much about marketing, but it wasn’t hard to understand how quickly his neighbor must’ve put together a campaign for the sale.

Honestly, it was deeply humbling for Peter to think about how someone would go through such an effort to help him and May out like that.

“Don’t go through it alone.”

The words continued to ring in his head as lunchtime approached. Peter was planning to find an alley to change into his Spider-Man suit and just swing home to grab something to eat since it was free, but then he realized that he was actually only a few blocks from M.J.’s store. It would probably be a little strange going into a women’s fashion store on his own time and not for interview purposes, but he felt like he needed to give her a better thank you than the one he had given her yesterday. Granted, nothing he could ever say or do would feel like enough, but still he had to try.

Plus, it would just be nice to see her, assuming she hadn’t left for lunch already herself.

Deciding lunch could wait for a bit after all, Peter made his way down to the store. He peeked inside but couldn’t see for sure if Mary Jane was there or not. The place had some customers, but didn’t appear too busy, probably because, again, it was lunchtime. He opened the door, stepping in and surveying the place to see if he could find her. He had to walk around some clothing racks, but he finally found her helping a customer. While the other woman was distracted, M.J. happened to turn around and see Peter, a surprised but happy expression coming on her face. She held up a finger, motioning for him to wait a moment before turning back to her customer.

“You’re Peter, right?”

Peter turned to see the question came from the woman at the counter.

“Yes,” he said, walking up to it. “It’s Liz, right?”

“That’s right,” Liz replied. “I’m guessing you’re here to see M.J?”

“Uh, yeah, yes I am,” he responded, his cheeks warming up a little due to embarrassment, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. “Oh, and I wanted to thank you as well. I’m guessing you also put a lot of work in for the sale you two put on for my aunt.”

“Happy to do it,” Liz replied with a smile. “She was the real brainchild behind it all though. I just followed her lead, really.”

Mary Jane then came over.

“Hey,” she greeted him, her tone pleasant and happy. “What brings you by?”

“I just wanted to thank you again, you know, for the fundraiser you all did here,” Peter replied.

M.J. smiled, letting out a couple of giggles.

“I appreciate it,” she replied, “but you didn’t need to come out here to thank me again when you already did it once.”

“I guess it just didn’t feel good enough to me the first time,” Peter countered.

M.J.’s lowered her head, her eyes narrowing at him.

“You gave me and Eddie a bearhug,” she responded, “I think that’s a pretty sufficient form of thanks.”

“Right,” Peter said, letting out an awkward laugh as he started to realize how ridiculous he must be sounding to her. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you while you were working.”

“No no,” Mary Jane replied, holding up her hand briefly to further emphasize her words, “it’s fine, really. Liz and I were actually just getting ready to go to lunch, if you want to join us?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Liz suddenly spoke up, “I have a........an errand I need to run while we’re out, so I’ll probably just grab something to go somewhere and eat on the way. You two should totally go though, don’t worry about me.”

The woman quickly grabbed her stuff and took her leave as another employee came behind the desk to take her place, leaving Peter unsure of what just happened, even if he had a sneaking suspicion. He turned to M.J.

“Well,” M.J. said, “does that sound good to you?”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Ten minutes later, the two of them were digging into their respective sandwiches they had ordered at a small restaurant just down the street from the store.

“Wow, I can’t believe I’ve never been here before,” Peter said after downing a few bites.

“I know, right?” M.J. replied. “It’s such a convenient spot too.”

“I’ll bet,” Peter responded before taking another bite.

“Liz and I like to go a few different places,” M.J. added after swallowing her most recent bite. “There’s this one place that’s a bit of a ride, but we absolutely love it there. They have everything.”

“I’ll have to show you this one sandwich place that I discovered a while back,” Peter replied. “It’s pretty great too.”

“Sounds fun,” Mary Jane replied.

As Peter neared the end of his food, he spoke up again.

“Can I ask you something that may or may not be a little personal, depending on the answer?”

M.J. narrowed her eyes at him in a puzzled expression.

“Sure?” she said uncertainly.

“Who is the Madeline that you named your store after?” he asked.

M.J. looked down for a moment, appearing to ponder whether to answer or not.

“My mom,” she said, taking her last bite of her sandwich.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Peter nodded, taking the final bite of his own sandwich.

“She’s the one who got me into fashion,” M.J. added, wiping her mouth with her napkin. “She died before I was even in high school, but I can still remember how she always seemed to have great taste in clothes. It was never over the top though; there was almost always a practicality to what she wore, even when it was something fancy. That’s what Liz and I knew we wanted to focus on when we were first looking at opening our store. My mom even knew where to find women’s shorts that actually have pockets. Do you have any idea how hard that is to find?”

“I may have heard a complaint or two about it,” Peter replied, “but I thought that’s what purses were for?”

“Yeah, but we don’t want to always be carrying those around,” M.J. clarified. “It’s actually more convenient that you’d think for a lady to have pockets to carry things.”

“I apologize,” Peter said, “I guess I still have some misconceptions about women’s fashion.”

“It’s okay, Tiger,” M.J. replied, “since you’re a guy, I’ll give you a pass.”

There was that nickname again; something about it made Peter’s heart rate pick up when she said it.

“Anyway,” M.J. continued, her tone becoming a little more serious again, “I guess naming the store after mom was just kind of my way of honoring the impact she made in my life, since she was the one who kind of set me on this path without even knowing it.”

“That’s really cool,” Peter replied.

A momentary silence fell over them as Peter contemplated adding something else, finally deciding to say it.

“If she could see you today, I think she’d be very proud of you.”

M.J.’s eyes met his briefly, and a light smile adorned her face, her eyes carrying a hopefulness to them.

“You think so?” she asked.

“I know it,” Peter responded. “I mean, I didn’t know her for myself, but I know you, and it’s hard to imagine that she wouldn’t be.”

M.J. looked down at her empty plate for a moment, but Peter still thought he could see her cheeks turning a little red.

“Thanks Tiger,” M.J. replied as she looked back up at him. “I.........that was nice to hear.”

Peter then felt his phone vibrate, and he pulled it out to see what it was.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, “that was a reminder that I need to be at a friend of May’s place soon. I’m going to help them move some new furniture in exchange for some money to go towards May.”

“Oh cool,” M.J. replied as the two started gathering their stuff. “I’m glad you’re still getting some jobs.”

“Thanks,” Peter said as he stood up with his plate, the two of them taking them to where they could dispose of them properly. “Thanks for lunch too; it was a lot better than the homemade scraps I’d been planning on throwing together.”

“Not a problem,” Mary Jane replied, “thanks for coming by. It was a nice surprise.”

“Sure,” Peter said, “it was nice for me too.”

He turned to walk away but found himself spinning back around to face her.

“Mary Jane?”

“Yeah?” she asked.

The words were right on his lips, but Peter suddenly found himself unable to utter them.

“Never mind,” he replied. “It can wait. I’ll see you around.”

“Oh, okay,” M.J. replied. “See you around I guess.”

Peter then turned and walked off.

Chapter Text

Almost as soon as the last customer of the day stepped out the door to leave, Liz spoke up.

“So?”

M.J. shot a glance at her best friend.

“This has been eating at you all day, hasn’t it?” M.J. questioned.

“M.J, he came to the store to see you to thank you for a SECOND TIME,” Liz explained, particularly emphasizing her last two words. “People don’t do stuff like that normally.”

“You don’t know Peter,” M.J. countered, “he’d apologize for not laughing hard enough at a joke if he got the sense that you were expecting more.”

“Yeah, then why are you smiling so much as we talk about him?” Liz asked, an almost mischievous smile of her own adorning her face. Her best friend was only proving once more how annoyingly adept at seeing through her she was, even if Mary Jane felt that what she’d said about Peter Parker was one hundred percent correct.

“We did have a nice time,” M.J. admitted. “Oh, and by the way, you do realize you didn’t get any points for subtlety earlier, right?”

“What?” Liz protested, holding up her hands, “I was making it up on the fly! You know I can’t improvise to save my life.”

“Clearly,” M.J. concurred.

The two ladies moved to the back room to do some inventory.

“Anyway,” Liz continued, “do you think you two are making progress?”

M.J. thought about it for a moment.

“I think so,” she said. “It was weird, he stopped me as we were about to leave, and I could tell he wanted to say something, but he decided not to say whatever it was. All he did say was that it could wait.”

“Any idea what he was going to say?” Liz asked.

“Not really,” M.J. replied. “I’ve been thinking about it all day, and of course, part of me HOPES it’s something in particular, but I have no way of knowing until he says it.........if he does.”

“What do you mean ‘if he does?’” Liz questioned, giving a pensive look.

“It’s hard to explain,” M.J. said as they worked through their inventory. “When he first got my attention, he had a positive look on his face, but when he hesitated, I could see his expression fall a little. He still had a smile, but it looked more.........melancholy.”

“Did you guys talk about something particularly sensitive?” Liz asked. “Like, maybe something he could’ve wanted to elaborate on more but didn’t know how yet?”

“I don’t think so,” M.J. answered, moving one box to the side and beginning to look through another. “He actually asked me who the store was named after, so I told him about my mom and how she was into fashion and was pretty much the whole inspiration behind what we do here.”

“Wow,” Liz said, pausing her typing on her iPad to give M.J. a look. “That’s very personal of you. Then again, he does know about your dad, so I guess that would actually be easier to talk about.”

“Peter was actually really sweet about it,” M.J. added, “he said that he thought she’d be proud of me for where I am today.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Liz said.

“Yeah, it was,” M.J. agreed. “Everything about lunch seemed to go really well, which is why I’m not sure why he felt he couldn’t tell me something.”

“Maybe he was going to ask you out properly or something, and he just got nervous,” Liz suggested as she moved onto another assortment of clothes.

“That’s what I’d like to think, and maybe you’re right,” M.J. replied, also moving to another section. “It just feels like there is more to it for some reason.”

“Well, either way, it sounds like you guys are progressing well,” Liz encouraged her. “I’m sure the truth will come out soon enough.”

“You’re probably right,” M.J. concurred. Really, she had every reason to believe that Liz WAS right. Everything seemed to line up that way the more she thought about it, but still........something just felt off about the whole thing. Mainly it was that Mary Jane felt like she both knew Peter very well and hardly at all at the same time. His personality was clearly genuine, and he wore his heart on his sleeve, but he still seemed to have trouble truly letting her in. It was like there was a wall surrounding Peter’s heart, and she wasn’t even sure if she’d put a dent in it yet.

Then again, she wasn’t exactly one to talk when it came to walls around her heart.

All M.J. could do for now was just trust that, in time, he would start to open up to her as she did to him.

She just hoped it wouldn’t take a freak circumstance like her situation with her dad for it to happen.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Day after day for the next week and half, Peter managed to find some odd job or other every day to keep the money coming. A lot of it came from people he’d already done something for recommending him to a friend or relative of theirs, which he had made a point of saying thank you to everyone who did so. The last few days had been especially busy; between going from place to place and actually performing the tasks, Peter was pulling longer days than he ever had at the Bugle.

Of course, he’d made time to visit May multiple times every single day in that stretch. She was fighting, but things were clearly going downhill. She was to the point where she couldn’t even form words anymore, and the most recent scans of her brain were showing the problem beginning to spread to other areas.

Another hard part was that he hadn’t really been going out very much as Spider-Man, which was constantly in the back of his mind. Peter knew he still had a responsibility to the city, but he could hardly bring himself to do more than an hour of patrol a day. He had come to think of it like this: as soon as he got the money and got the treatment for May, the sooner he could go back to trying to figure out who was behind those tech thefts.

Also, the sooner he could figure out what to do about M.J.

He had come so close the other day to asking her out on a proper date. The words were right on the tip of his tongue, but at the last second, he’d found himself unable to get them out. Doubt had won out again, and it wasn’t even about if Mary Jane would say yes. It was about whether he deserved a shot at happiness again, whether he deserved someone he could love and would love him back in the same way.

The thing that drove him especially crazy was that he wholeheartedly believed that Gwen would WANT him to move on, that she would want him to be willing to explore love again. She herself had loved him through and through, always wanting what was best for him, just as he had for her. Saving the M.J. of his younger counterpart’s during the multiversal conflict had brought an unexpected level of healing from his previous failure as well. Despite all of that though, even as close to his M.J. as he’d gotten recently, he was still struggling with forgiving himself enough for Gwen, as well as the broken promise that led to her death. Plus, on top of all that, there was still the question of how Mary Jane would even handle finding out he was Spider-Man.

Peter’s head was just so messy sometimes, and it never ceased to drive him insane.

Which was why, at this particular moment, focusing on counting the money he’d earned today and adding it all up was the perfect distraction. He’d actually been paid very generously by a couple people today, and he knew he was really close to what he needed too. After counting his total for the day, Peter basically held his breath as he added it all up with everything he’d earned with what he and May had received from the hospital, the Bugle and M.J.’s store. He hit the equal sign on his calculator, bringing up the total.

$175,000.

Peter’s eyes went wide as he froze, his brain stuck as his body was overcome by surprise. He immediately went to recalculate it, wanting to be absolutely, unmistakably certain that he was correct in his math. He looked over and double checked every number very carefully, even going back over the problem to make sure he didn’t accidentally put a multiplication sign in there somewhere.

He hit the equal sign, and the answer was the same: $175,000.

Peter performed the problem a third time just to be sure, and the answer once again was the same as the previous two times. He stood up, putting his hands behind his head as the realization slowly dawned on him: he had done it.

With a lot of hard work and a lot of help, he had all the money he needed to get May the treatment that, if all went well, would save her life.

Peter suddenly found that he could hardly contain himself; he needed to tell someone about this immediately. He ran out of his room, quickly exiting his apartment as well and stopping next door, knocking profusely on Mary Jane’s door. After what seemed like an eternity (but was likely only a few seconds), she answered the door.

“Peter, what is it?” she said, concern turning to confusion as she looked at him.

“I did it, M.J,” he said. “We all did it!”

Her expression changed again, this time to shock that was already slowly morphing into joy.

“You got it all?” she asked eagerly.

Peter’s head nodded like a bobblehead toy, and as M.J. started to get more excited as well, he suddenly scooped her up in his arms, spinning her around the hallway of the apartment as she let out excited, joyful laughs.

“Oh my goodness, I can’t believe it!” M.J. shouted as he set her down again. “That’s amazing, Peter!”

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” Peter confessed, wrapping her in a hug again. “Thank you so much!”

“Of course,” M.J. replied. “I was happy to help.”

As they separated, Peter’s mind finally settled just enough for him to realize his next necessary course of action.

“I have to get to the hospital,” he said, suddenly racing back into his apartment, leaving M.J. behind in the hallway. He quickly gathered the money, secured it, grabbed his keys and locked the apartment. He turned to find M.J. right where he had left her.

“Good luck,” she said, giving him two thumbs up.

“Thanks,” he said, “I’ll let you know once I confirm that May’s treatment is coming.”

Peter then did something completely out of the blue and unexpected: he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before immediately darting off, completely disregarding the complex’s elevator in favor of the stairs for some reason. As he rapidly descended on his way, Peter couldn’t even really process what he had just done, either in kissing Mary Jane or in taking the slower way down the building.

He just knew one thing: with the burden of getting the funding for May’s treatment finally off his chest, Peter was happier than he had been in a long time.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

After a brief wait, the doors finally opened.

“Welcome to your new headquarters,” Mason said, “Master Planner.”

One by one, the outstretched, metallic arms of none other than Doctor Octopus made their way into the room, bringing the man himself along as well.

“Thank you, Tinkerer,” the doctor replied, a maniacal but still subdued smile on his face. “How goes the final phase of our little project?”

“Everything is proceeding as you planned,” Mason confirmed. “We should be ready to begin on schedule.”

“Excellent,” Doc Ock replied, “you and the team have done a commendable job with this technology.”

The doctor then turned to the other “supervillains” in the room: Sandman, Rhino, and the Vulture.

“And soon,” he continued, his arms lowering him to ground level, “we shall all reap the benefits.”

“I still don’t get the point of all this,” Sandman confessed. “We have the power to break into anywhere and get anything we want, so why go through all this trouble?”

“Oh, Mr. Marko,” Ock said in a manner that was eerily like a father talking to a son, “you are correct in your assessment of our abilities. However, our little undertaking here will allow us the means to not only grant us much easier access to whatever we desire, but also allow us to take our proper place in the city........and the world as well.”

“Besides,” Rhino chimed in, “the doc here got us out of prison and is promising us as much money as we want, so why should we argue?”

“You have a point,” Sandman agreed, “and he’s a lot better than Osborn was at leading this freak show, but still, I’m worried I’ll miss the thrill of it if it’s all too easy.”

“Not to worry, Sandman,” Ock replied, his tentacles lifting him off the ground once more. “Even once we assert ourselves, there will be those who will try and stand against us even still.”

“Like Spider-Man,” Vulture added.

“Exactly,” Ock agreed. “He and others will try to stop us, but we will ultimately show them the futility of their efforts. Don’t forget, I recruited all of you so that we could all take our rightful places, and that means using your abilities to their maximum potential. Trust me, I intend to ensure you all fully live up to that.”

After reassuring them, the doctor gave them instructions to assist in the completion of the functionality of their new base: Sandman and Rhino with lifting and moving the heavy machinery, and Vulture with working in high places. After dismissing them, he turned to see Mason had just got off his phone, and judging by his expression, it was not news he wanted to hear.

“What is it, Mason?” Ock asked.

“I just got word from a contact at the facility where they are producing that special serum we need,” he explained. “It turns out that someone actually managed to purchase it. It’s expected to be on route tomorrow, but the good news is that we know where it is going.”

Ock had his tentacles lower him down, so he was face to face with the Tinkerer.

“Then we shall have to have a welcome party ready to greet them.”

The doc then started to make his way to his own private lab in the facility before stopping short, his arms rotating him back around to face Mason again.

“Oh, and have our contact at the Vault get Osborn,” he said. “I want him to see my moment of triumph.”

Chapter Text

Harry didn’t even peek out the window of his cell, despite hearing the door opening. He already knew who it was, since his list of visitors wasn’t exactly a long one.

“Time to go, Osborn.”

That got Harry’s attention. His head shot up to see the warden.

“Where are we going?” he asked, genuinely confused. Everything the entire team of people had done since he got to the Vault had been for the purpose of making sure he DIDN’T go anywhere, or so it had seemed.

“Some old friends of yours want to see you,” the warden replied as he disabled the security protocols for Harry’s cell. The man drew a gun, pointing it squarely at him. “Come on.”

Harry slowly got up, making his way to the warden, who grabbed him by the arm, strapping a device around his wrist.

“Just so you don’t get any ideas,” the warden said, holding up a device in his hand. “Unless of course, you’d prefer to be asleep for the duration of the trip.”

The man then put his gun away, more confident now that the situation was under control. He then began to lead Harry out of the room and through the hallway of the Vault. He hadn’t seen anywhere outside of his cell for so long that he’d almost forgotten what they had looked like. The walls were a clear, bright white, which was such a strange contrast to his dark, gloomy cell and room. It was almost like even the places just out of his view were happier places than where he got to be.

As they continued along, the warden always keeping him in at least his peripheral vision, Harry pondered what might happen to him. He didn’t have to guess who the man had been referring to when he’d said, “old friends.” Anyone from Scorpion to Sandman were people he had the potential to see, but above all else, he knew Otto Octavius would be there, wherever they were going.

“Are they at least happy to see me?” Harry asked once they were in the elevator, his tone only conveying the slightest sliver of emotion. Years in isolation did that to a person, it seemed.

“Oh yes, absolutely,” the warden replied. “The good doctor is especially excited to see you. He said something about a new project that he’s been looking forward to showing you for a long time.”

“Aww, I didn’t know that he was so sentimental,” Harry said.

“Well, if the amount of money he paid me for all this is any indication, you seemed to be worth a lot to him,” the warden responded in a straightforward but somewhat mocking tone.

The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and they moved onto the first floor. Harry and the warden walked up to a security checkpoint near the end of the building.

“Prisoner transfer?” one of the security men asked.

“Yeah, Ravencroft’s been petitioning for this one for a long time,” the warden answered. “They seem to think they can rehabilitate him this time.”

At that moment, Harry realized what truly awaited him.

After clearing security protocols, the warden escorted Harry out of the prison, where a vehicle was waiting for them.

“Get in,” the warden said, holding out the control unit for the shock device on Harry’s wrist. Reluctantly, Harry got in the back seat of the car as the warden got in the driver’s seat, still holding the device in one hand.

As they started to drive off, Harry’s mind began pondering his present circumstances, and the choices he’d made that had led him here. If he was honest, he’d been a spoiled brat most of his childhood, though he did not absolve his father for some of the blame, especially since, with essentially his dying breath, he’d dumped on him that he shared in the man’s disease that ended up taking his life. Ever since that point, he’d just done what he needed to survive, which had led him to become a super strong psychopath that flew around on some fancy high tech glider, terrorizing the city.

Which, of course, had brought him into conflict with Peter.

He thought every day about two nights in particular. The first was when he went to face Spider-Man immediately after he’d first transformed, and the resulting confrontation inside the clock tower that led to the death of Peter’s girlfriend, Gwen Stacy. Harry could still recall how dead set he was on killing both of them, possessing a bloodlust at the time that could only come from insanity mixed with extreme hatred.

The second night was the last confrontation he had with Peter prior to his incarceration. By that time, he had assembled his team, who he’d called the “Sinister Six” at the time, and they’d set out to destroy Spider-Man once and for all. They had almost succeeded too, but where they outclassed him in power, Peter had proven the superior strategist and improvisor, taking them out one at a time and even using some of their own abilities against the others.

When it had been all said and done, Peter had the chance to either kill or cure him, and even through the eyes of his mask, Harry can remember how torn he was at the time over this decision. In the end though, Peter had chosen to cure him, and ever since then, he’d wondered why. There was no reason for Peter to not just let Harry die or kill him himself, the last threads of their friendship having eroded away at that point. The choice just made no sense to him.

Harry also thought back to when Peter had come to visit the other day, looking for answers. He didn’t know much at the time, but he knew that the "warden" was not who he said he was, saying that one of his former allies in particular was paying him quite well to "keep an eye on him." Even pointing Peter to that could’ve helped in his investigation, perhaps even leading to some answers, but no, his survival instincts ended up winning again.

The worst part was that it had done no good towards that end after all.

Harry was starting to feel that this was what he deserved. If he had just accepted his fate all those years ago, he could’ve made better use of the time he had left, instead of turning himself into a monster and losing the very few people that had still cared about him. Perhaps that was the true Osborn curse: to push everyone close to you away, only to die alone in a painful, miserable way.

Still, what if he actually tried just once to do something good? He was facing imminent death anyway, after Octavius showed off whatever it was he clearly wanted to gloat about, so why not? Oh, right, because if he did try anything, electricity would surge through his body until it had effectively knocked him unconscious. It wasn’t exactly the best of odds.

An idea then came to Harry’s mind. It was a stretch to think it would work, but he figured that, since he had nothing to lose anyway, he might as well go for it. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, making it appear as if he had dozed off.

After a while, the vehicle came to a stop, and he could hear the warden get out of the car, opening the door to the side he was on.

“Wake up, Osborn,” the man said, but Harry refused to stir. He needed to wait until just the right moment.

“Osborn,” the man repeated, pushing him in the arm. Harry remained limp though, only moving as much as the push against him would likely warrant if he were actually passed out.

“Get up,” the man said, grabbing his arm.

Harry’s eyes shot open, and he swiftly grabbed the man by his other arm, pulling him into the vehicle. He pinned one arm to the man’s neck while reaching out for the device with the other one. The warden struggled to get free, but Harry’s grip was unrelenting, as his legs were wrapped around the man as well, heavily restricting his movement.

Finally, he freed the control device from the man’s grip, tossing it into the front of the car. The warden then grabbed at him, but Harry shoved him out of the vehicle with his legs, bursting out of it himself and lunging after the man. The two struggled at each other, each one trying to gain an advantage over the other as they fought. At one point, Harry struck him in the face, revealing a tear........that didn’t produce any blood.

The warden, realizing what had happened, grabbed at his hair and pulled, slowly revealing a white helmet-looking thing of some kind that covered the man’s true face.

“Looks like my secret’s out,” the man said in a now Russian accent, grabbing a switch knife from his pocket. “Guess what that means for you?”

The man lunged at him with the knife, but Harry grabbed at his wrist, bending the man’s arm over his shoulder, causing him to drop it. He then elbowed the guy’s backside hard before flipping him onto the ground. Harry then strode over him and began punching him in the face repeatedly, only relenting once he was certain the man was unconscious.

Wow, that had actually worked.

Standing to his feet, Harry looked around, making sure to get a good view of the building they were pulled up to and where they were. He then got into the car and drove off.

He had managed to give himself one last chance. Now, it was time to make the most of it.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Peter sat beside May, who was lying on her hospital bed, seemingly staring at the ceiling with a blank expression. She had been like that the whole time that he’d been over so far today as they waited for the impending arrival of the treatment, which was due anytime now. Peter had made the decision not to leave the hospital anytime between now and when the treatment was at least starting to show its results.

By now, May’s ability to interact with people, or the world around her in general, was fleeting at best. Other than blinking and the occasional really, really light movement, she had hardly moved at all since he’d arrived. It was hard for Peter to see her like this, but he didn’t want her to be alone. She had helped him so much by just being there for him, so he was more than willing to do the same for her now.

He hadn’t really said much since he’d been there other than an initial greeting when he first got in, but Peter decided that maybe talking to her would be good.

“May,” he spoke up, “listen, if you can still process what I’m saying, don’t feel the need to respond. I’m just trying to talk a little so that, you know, we both don’t go crazy as we wait on the treatment that’s going to help you. Anyway, uh..........Eddie’s been texting me a lot recently, asking about how you’re doing and stuff. He’s a really nice guy, but he can be a bit.........overzealous, maybe? I don’t know, he’s always enthusiastic about life. Maybe I’m just jealous, I don’t know. He’s been really supportive through all this though, so just know that my coworkers are routing for you too.”

He paused for a moment, both to see if she might have any kind of reaction, but also because he was trying to decide what to talk about next.

“Anyway,” he continued after a moment, “I had lunch with M.J. the other day. She told me about how she named her store after her mom, since she was the one who got her into fashion and everything, so that’s cool. Also, when I told her about getting all the money for you, I did the most random thing: I actually kissed her. It was just on the forehead, and it was quick, but still, I haven’t really known what to do with the fact that that actually happened. I don’t know, there’s just so much going through my head right now. Big surprise, right?”

Peter buried his face in his hands for a moment, rubbing his eyes in them, when he suddenly felt a light tap on his hand. He looked up to see that May was looking at him now, and she reached again, putting her finger to his chest.

“What?” he asked.

May then slowly brought her hands together, making a motion like she was opening something, before putting her finger back on his chest.

She was telling him to open his heart to Mary Jane.

“I want to, May,” he said, “but.........there’s a lot I don’t know. How will she react when she finds out who I am? What if something happens to her? I don’t want to hurt anyone el........”

Suddenly, the doctor came in, where he motioned for Peter to step out to see him.

“Hold on, I’ll be right back, okay?” he said to May before getting up and stepping out.

“What is it?” he asked the doctor.

“Peter,” the man replied, “I just got a call from the people delivering the treatment. They’re under attack.”

Chapter Text

“U-under attack?” Peter stuttered, “by who?”

“They weren’t able to get out a lot of details; it sounded like they were still trying to get away,” the doctor clarified, “but they thought they saw the Rhino guy and the guy in the wingsuit too.”

Peter’s mind raced; he couldn’t believe his luck. Of all things, why were his enemies going after experimental medical treatment when they’d been targeting advanced technology so much?

“Did they tell you where they were?” he asked, his tone’s urgency nearly making the doctor jump.

“I think they said something about just getting off the bridge into Queens,” the man clarified.

That was all Peter needed; he immediately bolted around the doctor, ignoring the man’s insistence that there was nothing he could do. He ran out of the hospital, quickly finding a secluded back alley nearby. Rapidly discarding his clothes to reveal his Spider-Man suit underneath, Peter slipped on his mask before checking his web shooters, firing a couple lines and launching himself up a nearby building. Sprinting as fast as he could along the roof, he launched himself forward with webbing, propelling him over top of the streets of Queens.

Working as efficiently as he could, Peter made his way in the direction of Queensboro Bridge, all the while hoping he was not too late. He wasted no time on pointless acrobatics, with every web strand being fired at such an angle that would guarantee the most momentum possible. He never slowed down even once, his speed only continuing to increase as he pressed on.

He was going to make it. He had to.

Suddenly, Peter heard what sounded like a loud crash coming from up ahead. Yanking himself forward, he landed on a rooftop, sprinting to the edge of it to survey the scene. Sure enough, there were Rhino, Sandman and the Vulture, who were all approaching a truck that had crashed headfirst into a streetlight. Wasting no time, Peter immediately sprang into action, leaping off the rooftop and firing a web. Pulling his legs back as he descended, he delivered a powerful kick to an unsuspecting Rhino, sending him flying as he landed.

“Sorry guys, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut your play time short!” Peter yelled. He shot a web at one of Vulture’s wings, yanking the old man forward and sending the blades on one side slicing through the Sandman, causing him to temporarily crumble and the Vulture to crash hard into the ground. Taking advantage of the brief window he’d created, Peter leapt over to the vehicle’s front door, yanking it off with minimal effort. Thankfully, both men inside were still conscious, if a little shaken up.

“You guys okay?” Peter asked.

“I think so,” one of them said.

Peter’s spider sense went off, and he turned to see Rhino charging towards him. Shooting a web at his eyes, Peter then backflipped onto the Rhino’s backside, webbing him by the shoulders and using them to steer him away as best he could.

“Easy man, this isn’t a monster truck rally!” Peter yelled as he fought hard, just managing to turn the stumbling Rhino away from the truck. Once they had avoided it, he jumped off his adversary, who was still struggling with the webbing in his eyes. Peter shot several webs, sticking Rhino’s feet to the ground just as he finally regained his line of sight.

“What is this!?” he shouted in disgust, as if this hadn’t happened to him before. Peter knew it wouldn’t hold him forever, but hopefully just long enough.

Vulture then came whooshing by him, slicing through the back door to the truck with his wings as if it were made of paper. Peter started to rush towards him as he was making his way inside, holding out his hand to fire a web. Unfortunately, his spider sense alerted him to an oncoming assault by Sandman, which he narrowly slid underneath. The man pursued him relentlessly, but Peter used his zealous nature against him, leading him to a nearby fire hydrant and causing him to destroy it, exposing the man to a sudden dousing of the water inside, which instantly began reducing part of him to mud.

Of course, in the midst of all the commotion, Rhino had managed to break free of his webbed restraints, but Peter’s eyes were on the Vulture, who had emerged from the truck with the large vial containing the treatment. He tried to fly away, but, after leaping out of the way of a charging Rhino, Peter shot a web onto the man’s foot, yanking himself up so that he was on his adversary’s back.

“I don’t think so!” Vulture asserted, turning as an angle where his back was right up against the building. Thinking quickly, Peter managed to slide around to the man’s front side just in time, grabbing the vile containing the serum from his opponent’s hands. He then released his grip on his enemy, firing a web to swing off.

Unfortunately, the Vulture didn’t give up so easily, pursuing him with all the speed and precision of a true bird of prey. He was constantly on Peter’s heels, coming very close to catching him numerous times. It was taking every trick in Peter’s web-slinging book to just stay ahead of his opponent, but he knew he couldn’t play keep away forever. If he was going to end this, he would have to either go on the offensive or find a way to use their environment against his enemy.

At one point during their chase, the Vulture’s blades cut into a building, causing some debris to fall towards the unwitting civilians down below. Forgoing his escape attempt for the moment, Peter changed direction, barely managing to get to the people below, getting them out of danger just before the chunks of debris hit the ground where they’d been standing.

That was when Peter’s spider sense alerted him to the Rhino, who had been pursuing him from the ground, charging at him and the civilians next to him. Knowing he could only protect himself or the civilians, Peter opted to shove them out of the way, just managing to get ahold of Rhino’s horn before it could hit him. This didn’t stop his opponent’s momentum however, and Peter soon slammed through a concrete wall before being crushed against another one on the inside, the second impact causing him to drop the vial.

Realizing this, Peter scrambled to get ahold of it again, but Rhino picked him up by the head, his large hand covering Peter’s face.

“Uh uh,” Rhino said, “no escapes this time!”

He then proceeded to slam Peter to the floor hard, instantly knocking the wind out of him as he broke through it. He hadn’t even begun to get up yet when he suddenly felt a hard blow to his backside, followed by another, and then a blow to the head.

“Enough!” he heard a voice say. “We have what we need!” Peter barely managed to look up to see that the voice was coming from the Vulture, who had the vial in his hand, before Rhino delivered one more blow to his head, then everything went dark.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The doctor’s mechanical arms moved with extreme precision as he worked, the man trying to put some finishing touches on his specific part of the project. His lab was a wide space to accommodate his metallic appendages, allowing them the necessary breathing room to perform any task as efficiently as they could. They were the ultimate assistants, meeting any need he had, and just all around more competent than many people he had worked with.

Perhaps that was because they were connected to his very mind, reacting to his every thought without hesitation or questioning, just the way Ock liked it.

The man heard the door to his lab open, turning to find the Tinkerer had entered.

“Vulture, Rhino and Sandman have returned with the item,” he announced.

Leaving behind his work for the time being, the doctor exited his lab, meeting his allies in the main area of their facility, where he could see the vial containing what he needed in the hands of the Vulture. He had one of his mechanical arms reach out and, very carefully, take the vial from the hand of Adrian Toomes. He held it up to himself, examining the blue serum before him.

Satisfied, he lowered himself down to ground level.

“Well done, all of you,” he commended them. His eyes fell to the Sandman, who looked to be struggling a little to hold himself together.

“Do you require any assistance, Mr. Marko?” the doctor asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Sandman replied. “This isn’t the first time this has happened to me. I just have to dry off fully.”

“I presume this means that you encountered Spider-Man?” Ock inquired.

“We did,” the Vulture replied.

“And I beat him bad!” Rhino added enthusiastically.

“Very impressive, Rhino,” the doctor said, turning to the Tinkerer. “Still, we must be absolutely certain that the formula is still viable after a battle. Examine it, then examine it again. I will not take any chances, given the purpose for which I intend to use this.”

“Right away,” the Tinkerer said as Doc Ock carefully handed the vial to the man. Just as he was ready to return to his lab, Ock heard the entrance to the facility open again, where he witnessed none other than the Chameleon enter........alone.

“What happened?” Ock asked, approaching the man. “Where is Osborn?”

“He surprised me,” the man replied, “before he stole my car and made his escape, but I’ll find him.”

One of Ock’s arms shot out, seizing the Chameleon by his chest and bringing him up to face the doctor eye to eye.

“You’d better,” the man said, his voice coming out in a low but composed growl. “I paid you quite handsomely after all. I’d hate to see my investment go to waste.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Slowly, Peter began to stir, a faint noise filling his ears.

“Spider-Man, are you alright?”

As the world slowly returned to him, Peter realized it was a police officer talking with him.

“I’m okay,” he forced out, though it didn’t sound convincing to him once the words left his mouth.

“What happened here?” the officer asked.

Peter couldn’t even bring himself to get up yet, his head throbbing and his muscles aching.

“A truck was ambushed,” he managed to get out, the memory of it all coming back to him as he spoke. “It was containing.......”

“Containing what?”

Oh no.

“I have to go,” Peter said, forcing his way up. His body was screaming at him to stay down even for a few more minutes, but he fought through the pain, managing to get to his hands and knees.

“I think you need to be looked at,” the officer said.

“I’ll be alright,” Peter tried to assure the man, easing into a standing position. He nearly doubled over as soon as he did, the world still a little woozy to him as his vision blurred a little, but he held his balance.

“Seriously, you need to see an EMT at least,” the officer insisted. “From what we’ve been able to gather from eyewitnesses so far, you took quite a beating.”

“I’ve been through worse,” Peter countered, slowly stumbling towards the whole in the wall by which he had entered the building. While maintaining his secret identity even in these situations was always a concern, he also refused to be slowed down when he needed to get that treatment back. He just needed to make it to his apartment, apply some first aid, and surely, he’d be right as rain before he knew it.

He finally made it outside, ignoring one more plea from the officer attending him to get some proper medical attention, firing a web. It took all his might and a high pain tolerance, but he managed to pull himself into the air and swing off. The ride back to his Manhattan apartment wasn’t likely to be quick or even pleasant, but Peter knew what he had to do.

However, as he kept going, navigating the concrete jungle of the city started to prove more difficult than he’d hoped it would. His vision was constantly going in and out, and Peter was beginning to wonder if the officer had been right. He only narrowly avoided crashing into buildings a few times because of his spider sense and reflexes, but each time moved closer to a collision. It didn’t help that the sun was nearly finished setting, and nighttime was beginning to descend on the city. Normally, this wouldn’t bother Peter’s enhanced vision, but when his ability to see at all wasn’t fully there, problems were arising more and more.

By the time he made it back to his apartment building, Peter was all but ready to lose consciousness. He hit the wall harder than he’d intended upon impact, sending a shot of pain through his entire body, causing him to let out a hard grunt and grit his teeth beneath his mask. He turned his back to the building, focusing on taking deep breaths. He needed to stay conscious at least long enough to apply at least some first aid to his wounds.

Finally, he turned to the window of his apartment, surprised to find it closed. Even as he reached for it, he almost thought he felt his spider-sense going off, but the feeling was so faint that he dismissed it as his exhausted and hurt state messing with him. He slowly opened the window, barely managing to slide inside the room, forcing himself to stay on his feet as he did.

Removing his mask, Peter closed his eyes and took some breaths, exhaustion threatening to overtake him at any moment. He knew he had pushed himself too hard too soon after an injury, but he felt he’d had no choice. When he finally opened his eyes, he looked around to realize a disturbing fact: he didn’t recognize the arrangement of the room, nor anything in it.

He wasn’t in his apartment.

He caught sight of a picture on a nightstand, a photo that featured Liz and........Mary Jane.

He was in Mary Jane’s apartment.

Peter immediately tried to turn to leave and move to next door, but all his pain and exhaustion finally were catching up to him. He collapsed to the ground after just a couple steps. The last thing he remembered was the sound of footsteps coming from another room before the world went dark on him once more.

Chapter Text

Some women preferred pepper spray, some preferred tasers, and others carried guns.

Mary Jane’s weapon of choice: a baseball bat.

It was the aluminum stick that she clutched tightly in her hands as she waited just around the corner of her bedroom, ready for whoever or whatever had just come in. She’d come out of the kitchen when she swore that she heard what sounded like footsteps in her room, and had grabbed her bat to investigate. A hard thud-like sound then confirmed that someone was in there that wasn’t supposed to be.

To M.J.’s surprise, no one came out, nor was there any more noise coming from inside. Perhaps whoever had entered through the fire escape or whatever had left? No, it couldn’t be that easy; besides, in New York City, there was no telling who it could be and why they would randomly sneak into her room in the first place.

She also could’ve just been hearing things, but she was not about to take that chance.

Taking a quiet breath, she gathered her wits.

“Here we go,” she thought before she quickly stepped in, only to find...........Spider-Man lying on her floor? M.J. relaxed her grip on her bat, though she kept it upright just in case there was more that she wasn’t seeing.

“Stay cool, stay cool,” she whispered to herself as she carefully stepped towards the body on the floor. She soon got to where she could confirm that his mask was off, and........wait, was that.........

Suddenly tossing the bat aside, M.J. rushed over to the body, bending down and turning the unconscious red and blue figure over, the face of the individual now clear as day.

It was Peter. Peter Parker. Peter Parker was Spider-Man.

Oh wow. Oh, WOW.

Mary Jane’s mind was suddenly racing faster than a speeding vehicle as her head flooded with so many thoughts and questions that she couldn’t process it all. Peter was Spider-Man? She was neighbors with Spider-Man? How had she missed this? Also, what was he doing in HER apartment, lying uncon......

He was unconscious.

What was she DOING?

Desperately trying to wrangle her thoughts in, M.J. refocused just enough to steady her ever increasing heartbeat and start to think through what she needed to do. She put two fingers to his neck, greatly relieved when she picked up a pulse. He may have been unconscious, but at least he was alive. However, if that nasty bruise on his head was any indication, he definitely needed medical attention.

Mary Jane pulled out her cell phone from her back pocket and dialed 911. However, she stopped before hitting the call button, her finger hovering over it. She realized that, if Peter had made a point to keep his identity as Spider-Man a secret, then obviously he probably wouldn’t want a whole hospital full of doctors and nurses potentially to see his face. Then again, she had no idea how extensive his injuries were. Shouldn’t she be more concerned about saving his life than maintaining his privacy?

Could she perhaps take care of him herself? M.J. did have some first aid skills that were likely a bit rusty, but if she had a decent chance at it, shouldn’t she take it? Then again, the main thing she was seeing was a wound to his head, which was one of the places a person really DOESN’T want to be seriously hurt. Spider-Man, er, Peter had probably been through some nasty fights and dealt with serious injuries before though, so he likely had a solid ability to heal himself, so maybe she could trust that.

What should she do?

Mary Jane finally put her phone back in her pocket, making a choice that she really hoped she wouldn’t regret. Moving around to Peter’s head, she stuck her arms under his shoulders and started to lift. She grunted during the effort, having anticipated he’d be at least a little lighter. Instead, it felt like there were a ton of bricks underneath that costume. She managed to get his head and shoulders on the bed before getting back behind him, dragging him the rest of the way until he was completely flat on his back.

Now that he was in a more comfortable spot should he wake up, M.J. realized she needed some ice to cool down the swelling on his head. She sprinted out of her room to her kitchen, where she opened the freezer and grabbed one of her ice packs she kept on hand. She then grabbed a few more, just in case there were more spots swelling that she hadn’t seen yet.

Running back to her room, Mary Jane sat the packs down on her desk, realizing that she would need to likely remove the top half of his costume in order to see if there was any other damage like there was to his head. She got behind Peter, sitting him up against her. She grabbed at his waist, finding where the material was divided, and tugged upward. The material clung to his skin, and she had to fight it a little in order to get it off.

“Sorry,” she said out loud at one point, “I really hope I’m not making this worse.”

Finally, she got off the top half of the costume, and she could instantly see multiple spots already a swollen purple on his back especially. He also had some cuts, but none of them were nearly as intense as the swelling.

My goodness, how had he made it here?

M.J. opted to turn him over so that he was lying on his stomach, before grabbing the packs and placing them on the bruised spots on his back. Since she had no gauze or other medical material to tie down the pack that went to his head, she took an old shirt of hers and cut it, using it to tie the pack just enough so that it would hopefully stay on his head well and have its intended effect. She would’ve just held it there herself, but she wanted to be free in case something else came up that she needed to handle to take care of him. The cuts were minor enough that they could wait; for all she knew, they might just heal on their own.

With all the immediate needs that she could see taken care of, Mary Jane pulled up the chair from her desk beside her bed, planning to wait it out until Peter woke up. Now that she wasn’t in go-go-go mode, her mind started to become restless again as she sat there, watching over him. All the questions that she had briefly managed to suppress came flooding back into her mind again, and then some others as well. Mainly though, she always came back to the basic truth of it all: Peter Parker, her next-door neighbor and the guy she’d been seriously starting to fall for, was Spider-Man, a hero who’d saved the city several times over, and possibly even the world on occasion.

It was so strange; the man she had come to care about and the hero she had admired so much that she got a tattoo of his symbol on her person were one in the same. What was particularly weird though was that the more she thought about it, the more it made complete sense. In her brief time getting to know Peter these last few months, the main thing Mary Jane had picked up on was his selfless nature. Whether it was something little, such as him holding doors for her, or something massive, like comforting her while she had a breakdown over everything with her father, Peter had constantly given up of himself for her, even when he had his own problems that were far worse than her own. Of course someone like that would end up being none other than the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.

But how was this going to change things between them?

At some point, Peter was going to wake up, and when he did, he would see her and realize that she knew perhaps the greatest secret in the history of secrets. How would he react? Could she convince him not to worry, that his secret was safe with her? Would this bring them closer, or would things just be weird between them now?

All these thoughts and questions just kept rising and crashing down on her brain repeatedly like waves of the ocean stirred up by a hurricane. Mary Jane fought to keep in mind that the most important thing she needed to worry about right now was Peter and his wellbeing. However, as the hours started to drag on and Peter still didn’t wake up (and several pulse checks to make sure he was still breathing), all her questions started to feel like they were taking on a physical weight that was bearing down on her.

Nevertheless, Mary Jane waited quietly, not leaving Peter’s side as the hour only continued to grow later.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The first thing Peter noticed when he finally opened his eyes was Mary Jane. She was sitting on a chair next to him, reading a book. The second thing was the top half of his costume, which was currently hanging over a bedrail. As the fog slowly cleared from his brain, the pieces came together: he had passed out in her apartment, she had found him with his mask off, and now, Mary Jane Watson knew that he was Spider-Man.

Peter’s reaction to this was apparently to just lie still, as if she somehow wouldn’t notice him if he didn’t move, like in Jurassic Park with the T-rex. He remained almost frozen, and.......wait, speaking of frozen, why did his back and head feel kind of cold in spots? Was that an ice pack that he could see out of the top of his eyes?

Had M.J, like, taken care of him while he was out?

The woman in question then just happened to look up from her book, her eyes widening as she immediately closed and discarded what she had been reading.

“Oh my goodness, you’re finally awake,” M.J. said, relief evident in her tone, even to Peter’s still somewhat rebooting brain.

“M.J?” Peter questioned, his glance darting back and forth between her and his costume. She followed his line of vision.

“Yeah, sorry about, you know, finding out against your will and all that,” M.J. said. “Your mask was already off, and you were just kind of, like, lying there.”

It finally dawned on Peter that, on top of the cool packs on his head and back, he was also on her bed.

“Did you, like, take care of me?” he asked.

A small smile broke out on M.J.’s face that somehow brought a little bit more life back to Peter.

“Yeah,” she responded proudly, “well, I mean, I did what I could at least. I’m kind of rusty when it comes to the whole first aid thing.”

Peter tried to get up, but he paused when his body didn’t seem to appreciate it very much.

“Easy,” M.J. said, jumping to his side and helping him ease back down. “After how awful you looked when I found you, I’m guessing even you need some time before getting up and doing anything.”

Time.

“M.J, how long have I been out?” Peter asked, his tone becoming concerned as a potential realization hit him.

“About six hours,” M.J. stated.

That was six too long.

“I have to go,” Peter said, forcing his way up almost all at once, all his body’s aching and soreness hitting him as a result.

“Woah woah woah, uh uh,” M.J. said, rushing over to the other side of the bed that he had got off at. “You are in no condition to......”

“They took it M.J,” he interrupted as he walked past her to get the top half of his suit back. “They took the treatment for May.”

“Wait, who did?” M.J. asked.

“Some of my enemies,” he replied.

“Look, Peter, I’m sure the police can handle it,” M.J. protested, “you need your rest.”

“The police can’t handle people like the Rhino or the Sandman,” Peter countered.

“Peter, please,” M.J. said, her tone now on the verge of begging, “just give yourself a little more time to heal first.”

“I’ll be fine,” Peter said, removing the cold pack that had been on his head. “Besides, I don’t know how much time May has left, so I need to pick up on their trail.

He tried to move towards the window, but M.J. stepped in front of him.

“I know you’re worried about her,” she said, “but if you go out there and get yourself killed, what good does that do your aunt?”

The look in her eyes was both painful and intense, but Peter met her gaze nonetheless.

“M.J, I have to do this,” he said, hoping that was enough. “Please.”

After a few moments, M.J. finally relented, letting him step past her, though she grabbed his forearm just as he did.

“Please, be careful,” she said, before planting quickly planting a kiss on his cheek.

Man, they were going to have a lot to talk about at some point.

Peter hopped onto the window.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

Slipping on his mask, Peter turned back to her.

“What I have to,” he replied, leaping out into the night.

Chapter Text

Peter knew what he had to do, or at least what he would likely have to do.

By now, Vulture, Rhino and Sandman would likely have returned to wherever their base was, so trying to pick up on their trail was a waste of time. He’d already done an initial check of the site where they had fought, but it yielded nothing, so now he needed to take a new approach. More specifically, he needed to do a little backtracking.

The way he figured it, whoever the Master Planner really was, he obviously had utilized some of the various groups of the underworld’s assistance in getting whatever it was he needed, namely the thugs that had accompanied the super villains at some of the heists he’d tried to bust up. Therefore, he needed to pay a visit to some of these places, and he figured he’d start at the Bar With No Name and his good pal Blackie Gaxton. Sure, he’d tried this approach before; he’d asked the man to generously dispel any info he could, and yes, it hadn’t worked.

Well, Peter would just have to ask a little harder this time. In other words, he might have to get a little rougher. It was a side of himself that he’d been trying to suppress more recently, especially since returning from his multiversal adventure. He hated the thought of bringing it back out again, but May’s life was on the line. If he had to move past playing nice to save her life, he was going to do it.

Peter finally arrived at his destination, landing well above where any of the patrons might see him. He was still hurting from his earlier scuffle, but he wasn’t about to let a few relatively minor injuries hold him back. He crept to his favorite discrete method of entry: the ventilation shaft, tearing the barrier off and entering. Crawling his way through it, he eventually came above none other than Blackie Gaxton’s office. Even better, the man himself was there too.

Criminals really did love the night.

Making no attempt to sneak in, Peter burst through the ceiling, crashing into the office.

“What in blazes??” Gaxton called out, nearly jumping out of his seat. “Spider-Man? I’m afraid I’m on my way out, so if you’re going to try and appeal to my conscience or whatever........”

Wasting no time, Peter grabbed the man by his shirt and slammed him into the back wall of the office.

“I’m past playing nice, Gaxton,” Peter growled. “Where is the Master Planner?”

A disgusting and twisted smile slowly crept over the man’s face as he chuckled.

“I’m impressed, bug,” the man said. “I know I talked all that smack last time about how you were Mr. Goodie-Two-Shoes and wouldn’t do anything to me, but I’d heard some rumors a while back that the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man had taken a turn for the darker. I didn’t believe them, but maybe I was wrong after all.”

Peter hoisted the man up further, pressing his fist into the man’s neck in the process.

“Where is he, Gaxton?” he asked.

“Look kid, let me cut to the chase,” Blackie replied, the man’s voice struggling a bit under the pressure of Peter’s knuckles, “I don’t care what you do to me. I’ve been in this business since I was a boy. You think I don’t know how to take a beating? Sure, I may get roughed up, and you might even put me in a hospital bed for a while, but we both know that, no matter what, you don’t kill. If you did, all those big bads running around out there would’ve been the first to go six feet under. Hurt me if you want to, but you won’t get anything out of me.”

Unfortunately, Peter got the sense that the man was telling the truth. Still, he had one more trick up his sleeve. He dropped the man to the ground in a heap.

“Well, then, guess I’ll have to hit you where it REALLY hurts,” he said before turning and walking out of the office. Peter made his way to the main room of the place, drawing the attention of the small crowd that was there. All eyes were on him, but he didn’t care; he looked around, finally deciding on how to initiate his plan. Walking over to one of the gambling tables, Peter grabbed it, hoisted it over his head, and proceeded to smash it against one of the other ones, not stopping until both were reduced to scraps.

Naturally, this incited the customers and the workers alike, so they all came after him. Peter just stared as the small mob charged at him, totally calm and cool. One by one, he methodically took them out, sometimes brutally. He kicked people into walls and tables, smashed people into the floor, and knocked others out with devastating punches and kicks. Whatever pain he felt on his way here was now gone, replaced by the adrenaline that came from desperation and anger. It didn’t matter what they came at him with: fists, knives, glasses, or even guns, he dispatched them all as if they were mere nuisances to him.

Even after he was done with all the lowlifes in the place, he didn’t stop there. He ripped out a booth seat from the wall it had been attached to and proceeded to use it as a battering ram against the main bar itself, destroying it. At that point, Blackie finally showed himself.

“Get out of my bar!!” the man yelled angrily, holding a gun at Peter. He didn’t move, prompting the man to fire at him. He dodged three bullets before leaping at the man in a lightning-fast manner, grabbing his arm and twisting it, stopping just short of breaking the guy’s wrist.

“Alright, let me tell you how this is going to go,” Peter said. “You tell me everything you know about the Master Planner, or not only will I break your wrist, but I’ll make sure to come back for a visit as soon as you get the place fixed up. How’s that sound?”

“You filthy little......”

Peter twisted ever so slightly harder, prompting the man to grit his teeth as he fought back a cry of pain. “Don’t make this any harder on yourself, Blackie,” Peter insisted.

“Okay, okay!” the man finally shouted. “A while back, a man came to me saying that he worked for the Master Planner, like as an emissary or something. He said that he needed people: cons, crooks, construction workers, engineers, electricians, you name it. He also said he was willing to pay handsomely for whoever I could send his way, so I got the best I could find. He never gave me a name or anything, and we always met here. I swear, that’s all I know!”

Peter looked hard into the man’s eyes. These kinds of people were expert liars, and maybe that was what was happening right now, but Peter found no indications that that was true here. He just didn’t see a liar, just someone desperate to get out of a crushing grip.

He finally released said grip on the man’s wrist, and Blackie staggered back.

“If you’re lying, I’m coming back,” Peter warned before turning and walking out the front door this time.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

If there was a hiding place for the criminal underworld, Peter paid it a visit. He left no stone unturned, combing through every shady place in the city, desperately searching for answers. Naturally, he wasn’t exactly met with a warm welcome at any of these places, but he diffused most situations pretty quickly, neutralizing all his opponents with relative ease. He made every point to display the greater scope of his powers in order to intimidate those he interrogated, ripping doors off their hinges, smashing walls, and even overturning cars as he tore through hideout after hideout.

Most common criminals were cowards, desperately pleading for their lives at Peter’s first display of strength. Others took a little more persuasion, which he obliged. Unfortunately, it didn’t really seem to matter, as all he could get were vague answers at best and nothing at worst. Whoever this Master Planner individual was, they had clearly gone to great lengths in order to keep their true identity a secret, not meeting with anyone themselves, only going through emissaries, and never giving anyone any kind of concrete details, such as a location where he might be found. All he could really gather was that he was probably building something really big and likely planning something even bigger.

As Peter’s desperation mounted, it took greater restraint not to more severely hurt or even potentially kill those he came across. All the anger that he’d felt towards the world, and towards himself, was coming back all in one night. His failure to save Gwen had made it harder and harder to truly be the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man that he wanted to be until recently, and now it felt like all that progress was slowly being undone.

He was just so determined to save May, the strongest connection he had left as Peter Parker. It was ironic, because it had been her learning his identity that had helped him slowly come back a little from all this anger, all this rage he had felt for a long time after Gwen’s death, even if it hadn’t done much to help motivate him to live the civilian side of his life. Now, with the threat of losing her growing more and more imminent, Peter started to feel like he was slowly unraveling inside.

It all came to a head when Peter confronted yet another mob boss, who claimed not to know anything. It didn’t matter what he did, the man simply didn’t have any information for him. Exhausted physically and emotionally, Peter’s emotions threatened to get the better of him, and he just started beating the man, punching him repeatedly and without mercy. He landed several hits before he finally caught himself, seeing the man was unconscious and even bleeding out his nose. Fearing he’d crossed a line, Peter checked to make sure and, thankfully, he picked up a pulse. He then promptly left the building.

By now, the first rays of the sun were just starting to peek out over the ivory towers of the Manhattan skyline. Peter perched himself on a building, resting on his feet and fingers in one of his squatted positions. Life was undoubtedly beginning again for most of the people of the city, but for Peter, the light that was now finding its way through the lenses of his mask only served as a reminder of just how tired he was, both physically and emotionally. The adrenaline from his excursions through the underworld now wearing off, he could now feel every bit of how far he had pushed himself despite his injuries. Every part of him ached, but especially his head and midsection. On top of that, he had only slept because his body had reached the point where it literally needed to crash in order to even begin to recover earlier, and Peter was feeling that as well.

More than that though, Peter’s soul felt as if it had received the beatings that he had dished out tonight. All this effort he had exerted had yielded next to nothing about the Master Planner, his whereabouts, and most of all, where the life-saving treatment that May required might be. He had done everything humanly possible to try and get answers, but it was looking all for naught right now. His heart sank as the realization dawned on him even more than the morning sun as it continued to rise.

Exhausted beyond what he’d thought humanly possible, Peter fired a web, swinging off for home.

He just didn’t know what else to do anymore.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Harry continued walking through the streets, keeping his head down to avoid anyone recognizing him. His long hair and the discarded hoodie he’d found in the same alley he’d slept in most of the night were likely helping him maintain his anonymity more than he was giving them credit for, but he was taking no chances. He had a mission, and he needed to remain as secretive as possible to complete it.

However, finding the person he needed was proving to be difficult. When he first escaped in the car he stole from the “warden,” he’d just assumed he could find Peter, tell him the location of where his former allies were, and that would be that. What he’d failed to realize though was that he didn’t have the first idea where Peter might be, either as himself or as Spider-Man. Still, he was determined to at least begin to right his wrongs, even on the smallest level. He might’ve also seen Peter as his only chance to get out from under the thumb of Ock and the others, but more than anything, Harry just wanted to at least feel like he’d done something right in his miserable existence.

He was beginning to realize he was hungry and, remembering a discarded five-dollar bill he’d found on the street somewhere, he opted to walk into a nearby gas station to grab a quick bite to eat. It wouldn’t be much, but it would give him the energy he needed to keep going. He rummaged through the options, picked one, and walked up to the main counter.

As he put the sandwich on the table, Harry happened to glance at the television, where there was a local news report on.

“In local news, there is still no update on May Parker, the woman who was injured during the attack at the hospital several weeks ago.”

Harry was suddenly drawn to the TV like a fly to a light, slowly stepping towards it as he sought to glisten all the details he could. There wasn’t a lot of talk on the specifics of her condition, but what the reporter did offer didn’t sound good. They did dispel the most important information he needed though: the hospital she was at.

“Sir!” the man at the counter yelled.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Harry said, grabbing the money out of his pocket, smacking it on the counter. “Keep the change.”

Harry then grabbed his sandwich and rapidly walked out of the building, knowing where he needed to go next.

Chapter Text

As Peter continued his swing back home, his mind continued to sink into a deeper, darker place. It wasn’t long before he was essentially on autopilot physically, no longer focusing on where he would fire his next web strand, his spider-sense subconsciously taking care of that for him. Hardly any of the details of the city were even registering to his eyes or brain anymore. He couldn’t even feel the pain from his recent injuries as he could even when he had first taken off for home.

Instead, all he felt was a sense of failure. It was encapsulating every part of his person, seemingly all the way down to his bones. It made him ache from the heart outward, the sense of a potential imminent loss. Only the slightest part of him was trying to think of a plan or at least even a next step anymore. He had gone through just about every major individual he knew of in the city’s underworld while also scouring the occasional empty warehouse along the way, but all of it had been fruitless. The Master Planner had just covered his tracks too well. From the beginning, Peter had been one step behind, but now, he felt like not only had he lost the race but been lapped a hundred times over.

Finally, Peter returned to his apartment building, actually finding the open window to his own place this time. He landed gently against the building, slipping his way inside almost lethargically. Once inside his room, he couldn’t even find the motivation to move at first. He did manage to pull off his mask eventually, his eyes falling towards the floor ahead of him as he stared blankly at it, not even processing it was there. Dropping his mask to the floor, he made his way over to his bed, where he just sat at its end, folding his hands together, like he was waiting on something.

Peter didn’t know how long he had been there when he heard a knock on his door. He didn’t even react to it at first, not just because he was still in his suit sans mask, but also because he couldn’t bring himself to care. The individual persisted, so he decided he would at least get up and peek through the small looking spot in the door to see who it was. He walked slowly towards the door, the individual still knocking. Peter gently placed his gloved hands on the door, putting his eye right at the spot to look through.

It was Mary Jane.

For just about anybody else, Peter would’ve just walked away and pretended nobody was there, but something in him gave him the sense that she wouldn’t give up until he let her in. He unlocked his door and opened it to do just that, poking his head out from the side. She slowly stepped in, turning to face him as he closed the door.

For the first few moments, there was silence between them.

“I was watching to see when you would come back,” M.J. finally said. “I mean, I’m not exactly sure I was supposed to fall asleep after, you know.......”

Peter couldn’t find it within himself to react to what he was saying. He wasn’t sure he could react to much of anything right now; his mind and body were growing more and more numb by the second.

“Anyway,” M.J. continued, “uh, I just wanted to see if you had any luck? You were gone a long time, so I was hoping that might’ve meant that you found something.

Peter managed to shake his head a couple of times.

“No.”

“Oh,” M.J. responded, “well, umm.........can I, like, make you something? It might be good for you to eat at least a little bit, maybe rest a little too before you go back out there.”

“I’m not hungry,” Peter offered in response.

“Okay,” M.J. nodded, stretching up onto the toes of her shoes before falling back down. She seemed the complete opposite of him, having a kind of restless energy despite having likely been up almost all night. “Well, is it okay if I take a look at some of your injuries again? I can get what First Aid stuff I have real quick and come right back.”

Peter finally managed to offer a light but very forced smile to her, nodding his head a few times to show that he was accepting her offer. She offered a light one back before stepping out of the apartment, heading next door.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Mary Jane hadn’t been able to discern a lot just now, but there was one thing that was very obvious: Peter was NOT okay. She had no clue what he had seen out there, what or who he had dealt with, but clearly none of it had gone the way that he had hoped it would. She quickly went into her apartment, gathered what First Aid materials she could, and returned to his apartment. When she did, she found that Peter had moved to sit down on the couch now, and his expression was.......haunting. Even as she walked over to him, he just continued to stare ahead, a totally blank expression over his face, like he was a coma patient or something.

Squatting down beside him, M.J. struggled to force out even some basic words.

“Umm,” she finally forced out, “do you want to, like, you know, take the top part of your suit off again? That’s kind of where most of your injuries are.”

Peter at least partially snapped back to being in the moment.

“Yeah,” he said, and he proceeded to peel off his costume from the midsection up, setting it down next to himself on the couch.

The good news is that none of his wounds seemed any worse than they had been before, though he did seem to have a few more cuts this time. Still, some of them needed a little stitching, so M.J. got out what she had and proceeded to work on them. She did so meticulously, trying to be as careful as possible so as not to poke Peter by accident, though she wasn’t sure if he would even react much right now if she did.

Indeed, Peter proved to be a remarkable, if very depressing, patient for her, and it wasn’t long before the stitch work was done. She then grabbed some bandages and wound cleaning stuff she had brought over and began attending to those. Mary Jane was surprised at how much this was all coming back to her; it had been a long time since she’d been First Aid certified, but it appeared that the training hadn’t left her just yet.

As she worked, it was hard not to find herself occasionally glancing into Peter’s eyes. They looked empty, as if there was no life behind them at all. His overall demeanor gave off a sense of hopelessness, like he’d been fighting a war and had finally admitted defeat, and it made her heart sink. Part of her had always been able to tell that he had gone through some things in his life, but Mary Jane had come to think of Peter as one of the more hopeful and optimistic people she knew. When she was down, it seemed that being around him had always brought out her more playful and fun-loving side again. Seeing him in the state he was currently in made her want to find a way to do the same for him.

She just had absolutely no idea how.

After cleaning and bandaging a few of the larger cuts, M.J. moved to pressing the ice pack against a couple bruises that, while better, were still a bit swollen.

“I failed.”

Peter’s words came out of nowhere; were they not the only two in the room, M.J. would’ve questioned if they had even come from him at all.

“What?” she said, turning her head to look him in the eye.

“I looked everywhere I could,” Peter muttered, his line of vision unmoved. “I talked to so many people; I went to every terrible place I could think of to gain a lead on where they might have taken it, but I failed.”

“That’s not true,” M.J. protested gently. “You still have time. You can still save your aunt, Peter.”

Peter let out a light huff.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” he replied. “I don’t want to lose her, but I don’t know what options I have left.” Peter then hung his head, seemingly just staring at the floor now.

M.J. tried to find some words of reassurance to offer him, but none came. She wanted so badly to boost his spirits again, to help him regain even the slightest semblance of hope. Both of them had worked very hard to get the life-saving treatment for Peter’s aunt, so there was just no way that it could end this way, right? Surely there was one little thing that he was overlooking, one tiny detail that would lead him to where he needed to go. She just needed to get him in the right mindset to be able to think, but how was she supposed to do that?

Deciding some movement would be good for her at least, M.J. got up, starting to head to the kitchen to look for some food that maybe she could convince him to eat. However, he spoke up again, stopping her after only a couple of steps.

“Maybe this is just how it’s supposed to go for me.”

M.J. spun around, seeing that Peter had resumed looking straight ahead again.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Peter ducked his head down, rubbing his hands together slowly.

“I’ve lost people my whole life,” he said. “My parents when I was kid, then my Uncle Ben, and then Gw.......”

He paused, seemingly trying to find the will to say the last name. Peter then met Mary Jane’s eyes for the first time since she’d come back into the apartment.

“Gwen,” he finally said. “We met back in high school. We thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, until..........until one of my enemies found out who I was and went after her.”

Peter started to tear up, and a piece of M.J.’s heart started to break as she began to piece together in her head where this was going.

“I couldn’t save her,” he continued. “I tried, but I was just too late.”

Again, Peter paused, looking away from her. His face was now starting to contort itself into one of anger, and he let out a couple of heavier breaths.

“You know what the worst part of it is though?” he asked. “With his dying breath, her father made me promise to stay away from her, because he knew that people would come after her to get to me; he knew it would happen. I made that promise to him, then I broke it, and she paid the price for it. Now, here I am again, with someone else about to pay the price for being in my life.”

Mary Jane felt her eyes starting to get a little watery. She’d had no idea how much Peter had been forced to endure in his life and learning so much of it at once was threatening to make her heart crumble to pieces.

Peter’s gaze returned to meet Her's.

“You should stay away from me, M.J,” he said, “Go, get as far away from me as you can. If you stick around, you’ll either end up dead or miserable, and you deserve so much more. You deserve to live the best life that you possibly can, and that’s not what I can give you.”

M.J. just stared at him, her mind swirling and her heart now feeling like it was on the verge of being yanked out of her chest.

“GET OUT OF HERE!” Peter suddenly yelled, gesturing vehemently towards the door. “LEAVE!”

M.J. glanced towards the door, part of her actually wanting to go through it. On top of everything else that she was feeling, she was SCARED right now. It wasn’t that she feared Peter, but rather her own limitations. She wanted so badly to help him, but she doubted whether or not she was strong enough to be the person that he needed, that calming, grounding, guiding force in his life. After all, she was just some ex-party girl who just happened to grow up a little bit and get lucky enough to open a store that was a little successful.

Who was she to think that she could be the one to help him?

On the verge of being overwhelmed, Mary Jane moved towards the door and began to open it, not even bothering to collect the First Aid stuff she’d brought over. However, something stopped her just as she had it cracked open. She turned to look at Peter, who had his face buried in his hands, crying.

A new emotion came over M.J: anger. What was she thinking, leaving him at his most vulnerable like this? Her own insufficiencies shouldn’t matter right now; they COULDN’T matter. So what if she didn’t have just the right words to say, or know just the right thing to do? Mary Jane knew in her heart that she had come to care deeply for Peter, and when you care about someone, you don’t leave them in their time of greatest need, no matter what.

Pressing her hand against the door as her eyes remained trained on Peter, M.J. closed the door, clicking it shut. She then marched over to Peter, bent down and got right in front of him, putting her hands to the sides of his head.

“Peter,” she said, “look at me.”

Peter’s head slowly rose, and Mary Jane could see his eyes were still filled with tears. Her willpower threatened to give out again, but she steadied herself, never breaking eye contact with him as she continued.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, hoping her tone was conveying her determination and compassion as much as she meant it. “I don’t care what or who you’ve lost, or what you did during the hard times. You can’t do this on your own, and you shouldn’t have to.”

She ran her left hand through the hair just behind his ear, offering him a smile. His expression was still largely unchanged, but she pressed on.

“You can’t push everyone away forever, Peter.”

Something about those words must’ve finally got through, because suddenly Peter broke down again, and he pulled her into a hug as he buried his face on her shoulder, weeping bitterly. M.J. pulled him tight, rubbing her right hand up and down along the top of his back.

“It’s okay,” she whispered quietly into his ear, fighting back her own tears as well. It was strange how familiar this all felt, only now Mary Jane was on the opposite end.

The two of them remained that way for a while, before Peter finally pulled away, wiping his eyes as he sat back up.

“I guess I should, uhm, like, put on a shirt or something,” Peter said. The randomness of it produced a chuckle out of Mary Jane.

It felt so good to laugh for a change.

Suddenly, the ringing of a phone could be heard.

“Oh, that’s mine,” Peter said. “Hang on.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Peter ran up to his room, grabbing his phone. He recognized the number as the one from the hospital, and his heart sank a little. Still, he needed to take it, so he hit the answer button, putting it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Peter, it’s Harry,” came the familiar voice at the other end. “We need to talk.”

Chapter Text

“Harry?” Peter spoke up. “What are you doing at........if you’ve hurt her, I swear, I’ll.........”

“If you want to save your aunt, then hurry up and get over here,” Harry replied in a somewhat hushed voice. “I have some information you’ll want to know.”

“Wait, Harry.......”

Peter didn’t get to finish; the line died almost as soon as Harry finished speaking. Plagued with uncertainty, his body unleashed a fresh flow of adrenaline that gave him a renewed strength. He quickly grabbed some clothes to throw on over his suit, starting to throw his shirt on before he remembered that the top half of his costume was still back in the living room. Grabbing a pair of jeans and some socks, he sprinted back out, quickly grabbing the rest of the suit.

“Woah, is everything okay?” M.J. asked, her tone controlled but urgent.

“I just got a call,” Peter said as he fought against the skintight nature of his costume, finally getting it over his head. “I might have a lead, or it might be a trap; I’m honestly not sure right now, but I have to get to the hospital.”

“Are you sure rushing off like this is a good idea?” M.J. asked. “You’re still hurt and exhausted; you might not be thinking straight.”

“All true,” Peter said as he shoved on his jeans and t-shirt, “but this might be my last chance to save her, so I don’t think I have much choice.”

Once he was as put together as he could get right now, Peter exited through the door with M.J. He was about to take off but stopped himself quickly enough to turn and face her.

“M.J,” he said, but found himself stuck there. She didn’t say anything though, her expression giving the impression she was holding back her eagerness over what he might say next.

“Thank you,” he finally managed to get out. He wanted to say a lot more, but the rest would have to wait for now.

“You’re welcome,” M.J. replied, her smile tired but no less genuine. She then nodded in the direction of the exit.

“Go get em’, Tiger.”

Peter didn’t need to hear any more as he turned and headed towards the elevator. He had no idea what he was about to walk into, but with May’s life more on the line now than ever, he would brace himself for whatever Harry was up to, good or bad.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

When he got to the hospital, Peter expected to find Harry waiting for him outside in the front area or something. It made sense to him at least that, if his former best friend wanted to show him that he was indeed on his side, he would try to meet him somewhere relatively public. However, there was no sign of Harry either just outside or in the lobby area, so Peter went straight for May’s room, guessing that was where he would find Harry.

Sure enough, when he arrived, Peter saw a hooded figure standing over May’s bed, who turned around to show his face.

“Pete, I.......”

He wasn’t able to get out anything more before Peter grabbed him by his shirt and shoved him up against a nearby wall.

“Alright, here’s the deal,” Peter spoke up, “you have sixty seconds to tell me why you’re here before I haul you straight back to the Vault. Go.”

“I saw the news report about your aunt; I know who has the serum,” Harry explained, “and I know where you can find them.”

“Why should I believe you?” Peter questioned. “How did you even get out anyway?”

“The warden was really someone under Otto Octavius’s pay,” Harry clarified. “He had him bring me out and take me to where he’d been hiding out at. I managed to get away after we got there, and that’s when I started looking for you.”

“Doc Ock?” Peter asked. “What would he need May’s brain treatment for?”

“I’m not sure,” Harry answered, “I got away before he had the chance to explain.”

Peter’s sleep-deprived brain tried to process all this information. Doctor Octopus had the serum, with some unknown use still intended for it, if he hadn’t used it already. It didn’t make a lot of sense; even before the accident that turned the formerly timid doctor into the mad, multi-armed scientist he was today, the man had been more focused on technology than anything medicinal. Could this be a trap that they had used Harry to set up?

Then again, Octavius and the other former members of the Six likely didn’t care too much for the younger Osborn since, as the Goblin, he had used devices to control them so that they could not rebel against him, faithfully obeying every command of his until the end. It did make sense that they would all want some form of revenge on Harry at least.

Could Peter really trust him now though, when he had given him no reason to?

Peter slowly let Harry down from the wall, at least deducing that he wasn’t a threat for the time being.

“Look, we don’t have much time,” Harry continued, “we need to g.......”

They were interrupted by the main doctor who’d been attending to May walking in.

“Peter?” the man questioned. “Where have you been?”

“Sorry doc; I thought maybe I could get the treatment before it was stolen, but I guess I was wrong,” Peter replied. No part of what he said was a lie, but he recognized why the doctor was looking at him in a confused manner. The man’s face shifted quickly though, looking as if he came bearing bad news.

“Doc,” Peter added, “what is it?”

The doc looked past Peter towards Harry, causing him to glance back as well.

“Oh, he’s fine,” Peter said. “He’s with me.”

For now, at least.

“Peter, your aunt slipped into a coma a few hours ago,” the doctor explained.

Peter just stared at the doctor for a moment before his eyes drifted over to May, his body slowly moving over until he was by her bedside. He looked down at her; she was so peaceful, so content looking, but he couldn’t help but wonder if she truly felt that way on the inside.

“What does this mean?” Peter asked, turning back to the doctor. “How much time does she have left?”

The man’s expression remained as stoic as he could muster it.

“The chemical infection has picked up speed, causing many of her lower brain functions to shut down,” the doctor explained. “Unless somehow that treatment is recovered and she receives it in the next twenty-four hours, she won’t make it.”

Peter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Ever since the incident that put May in here as a patient rather than a nurse, he knew that she had a timetable, but now, hearing how down to the wire it had gotten, it almost felt like he was the one about to lose his life.

“I’d either start praying for a miracle or think about saying goodbye if I were you,” the doctor replied. “I’m truly sorry, Peter.”

Peter offered no response, his tongue seemingly locking up, restricting him from speaking. Appearing to understand this, the doctor took his leave, leaving Peter alone with Harry again. He put his arms over his head, weighing his options. He turned and looked at his former best friend, who seemed to be at a loss for words as well yet was looking at him with an almost pleading expression.

Letting his arms fall to his sides, Peter made his decision.

“Alright,” he said. Harry nodded, leading the two of them out of the room and down the hall. Before long, the two of them had exited the building, but just before they could make the turn to go anywhere, Peter’s spider-sense went off. He held out his arm, stopping Harry as well.

“What?” he asked.

A second later, they were approached by a police officer.

“There you are,” the man proclaimed. “Alright, turn around Osborn. Looks like I have to read you your rights again.”

Peter looked at Harry, who seemed to be pleading without words for him to do something. He was unsure what he was supposed to do without instantly becoming an accomplice at best though.

“I said turn around,” the officer repeated a little more sternly. “Put your hands up.”

Harry reluctantly did so, but as the man approached him with cuffs in hand, Peter’s spider-sense went off a second time.

What was going on?

“Hold on,” Peter spoke up, sticking his arm out in front of the officer, who gave him a questioning look.

“Don’t make me arrest you too, son,” the man warned. “I don’t want any more trouble than I’ve already got.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter apologized, removing his arm. “It’s just.......are you sure this is the right guy? He told me his name was, uh, Ben, Ben Reilly.”

“I’m sure,” the officer replied, his tone short.

“Come on, don’t you want to be absolutely sure?” Peter asked, doing everything he could to stall while his brain tried to deduce what about the man was setting off his spider-sense. “At least ask him to show you an ID or something.”

“I’m sure, and I don’t have to prove it to you,” the officer explained as he cuffed Harry’s wrist. “Alright, back to the Vault for you.”

As the man turned Harry around and began to walk off with him, Peter’s spider-sense went off again, this time even stronger than the previous instances.

“I really hope I don’t regret this,” he quietly muttered to himself as he decided to act on a hunch he suddenly came up with. Reaching out, he grabbed the officer’s arm with one hand while sticking his other one to the man’s face, peeling it off to reveal none other than the Chameleon underneath. The man tried to draw a gun on Peter, but Harry came from behind, striking him in the back of the head with both fists, knocking the man to the ground. He tried to get up, but Peter delivered a quick blow of his own, finishing the job and knocking the man out.

“Come on,” Peter said, grabbing Harry and quickly taking him to the nearest alley he could find.

“I should’ve known it was him,” Harry remarked.

“Fortunately, that’s where a little spider-sense comes in handy,” Peter replied.

Once they were deep enough into the alley where they likely couldn’t be seen, Peter broke the cuffs from Harry’s wrist, with the latter rubbing them with his hands immediately afterward.

“Thanks, by the way,” Harry said.

“Don’t mention it,” Peter replied. “Now, where exactly are we off to?”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

About twenty minutes of swinging later, and they had arrived at their destination: an old building over the pier. It was out just a little into the Bay; the surprisingly large building had once been a popular place for hosting fishing contests to see who had the largest catch of the day, though it had since been abandoned, lying unused for many years.

All that to say, it wasn’t exactly where Peter had pictured the eight-armed mastermind and his henchmen hiding out, the man’s nickname notwithstanding.

“Are you sure this is it?” Peter asked after they landed.

“I’m sure,” Harry answered. “This is where Chameleon took me to before I was able to get away.”

“Yeah, how did you pull that off anyway?” Peter asked, turning to him. “I know the doc’s got an ego, but he’s not careless enough to just let someone escape.”

“I never saw him,” Harry explained, “or any of them. I took the ‘warden’ out around here and took off in his car before anyone else saw me.”

“Wait, you mean you didn’t even see any of them?” Peter questioned, his voice rising in agitation.

“He said that there were people in here that wanted to see me?” Harry explained. “Could that really mean anybody else?”

Peter had to admit, he did have a point. He didn’t like the thought of basically going blind into a situation like this, not knowing exactly what might await him. This was for May more than anything else though, so he didn’t see any other choice.

“Alright,” Peter said, turning and webbing Harry’s hand to a nearby rail.

“What are you........”

“Making sure you don’t go anywhere,” Peter explained. “Once this is over, you still have to go back.”

Harry looked disappointed only for a moment before his expression turned into one of acceptance.

Peter then leapt up, firing a web to swing headlong into what was likely his last hope at saving May’s life.

Chapter Text

Peter landed gently on the ground a few feet from the door of the building. Stepping lightly, he walked up to it, waiting for his spider-sense to go crazy at any moment. However, he felt no such sensation, so he grabbed the handle and twisted, partially surprised when the door actually opened. If this really was some hideout for a bunch of supervillains, he would’ve expected at least the most fundamental security measures to be taken, if not more than that.

Stepping inside, Peter surveyed the initial scene, finding nothing too impressive really. The place was old and run down, clearly having not been maintained for some time. He closed the door behind him and gingerly stepped around, trying to find anything that looked unusual or out of place. There was no way that this place was it just by itself; for one, while one of the larger buildings on the pier, it still would’ve been way too small for the kind of operation that Ock seemed to be running.

The other thing that tipped him off was that none of the technology that had been stolen was present on the scene. It had been so long that, by now, if this were the good doctor’s primary base of operations, at least some of it would’ve been assembled. Instead, there didn’t appear to be hardly any technology in the place, outside of some old scales that had been used back in the day to see which lucky fisherman had brought in the biggest catch. Other than that, the place was just old wood, tile and other traditional building materials.

It didn’t exactly smell the best either.

Fiddling around, Peter tried any little trick he could think of, moving around sold old books that were there, pressing random areas of the wall, stepping on different floorboards, or anything else that might reveal the presence of a secret door or passageway of some kind. He went about this for at least ten minutes, covering just about every area he could of the inside of the building, but it proved fruitless. However, just as he was on the verge of either tearing the place apart piece by piece or interrogating Harry further, Peter noticed a picture along the wall that seemed slightly crooked compared to the others. It could’ve just been that it had gotten bumped or something, but he still went over to check it out just to be sure.

Plus, it was a picture of an octopus. Surely the doctor wouldn’t be THAT on the nose, would he?

Reaching up, Peter grabbed the picture, gently removing it from the wall to reveal a surprise hidden underneath: a small digital screen embedded directly into the wall. He tapped it, and the screen came to life, appearing to ask for a number combination of some kind, bringing up an onscreen keypad to enter it with. Realizing he was going to have to make a guess, Peter ran through every hacker’s trick he had ever learned, trying to think of what the combination could be.

After all, if he entered the wrong number sequence, he might blow himself up or something, and that definitely wasn’t what he wanted.

Peter thought hard, wracking his brain on what he remembered about Octavius, both before and after his transformation into Doctor Octopus. His research was into different kinds of technology, mainly the mechanical appendages that would end up being fused to his spine, so it likely wasn’t any kind of mathematical equation. The doc likely knew some, but it wasn’t his focus.

Could it be just the number eight, since he now possessed eight limbs? No, that was just dumb, and way too easy.

After all, Ock had never made it easy on him before, and Peter certainly didn’t expect him to start now.

“Think Parker, think,” Peter muttered to himself. Could the answer be a date that meant something to the doctor? He had a hard time believing that the man cared about anyone other than himself, at least in his current state, nor anyone’s goals or ideas except his own. There was ONE possibility that came to Peter’s mind though: the day that the doctor had gone insane.

It was impossible for Peter to forget that day, because it was the day that he had taken on Harry as the Goblin with his assembled team for the final time. His former best friend and his mind-controlled minions all fought with him as Peter had struggled to keep the fight contained and protect the surrounding civilians. It was only through using their zealous natures and egos against each other that he had come out on top, but in the process, Otto Octavius had been electrocuted, frying both his mind and the harness his arms were attached to, molding them to his spine permanently.

Ironically, it was a day that the doctor seemed to celebrate, describing it as the day that his “true self” was finally allowed to be free from the cowardly, spineless individual he seemed to consider himself beforehand. In a strange way, the man seemed to have a new lease on life because of the accident, and right now, that was the only lead Peter had on what to enter.

His body bracing himself to dive out the nearest window of this went south, Peter entered the numbers of the date: 11112016.

The screen beeped twice before shutting down. The section of the wall that it was a part of then began to slide to the left, eventually revealing two large metal doors that opened, revealing a space that looked like a conventional elevator, only a decent size larger, as if it was built to either fit more people or bigger people.

“Okay,” Peter thought to himself, “here goes nothing.”

Stepping inside the elevator, the doors shut behind Peter, and it took off much faster than he had been prepared for, causing him to have to steady himself somewhat. The walls around him were clear, and he could see that he was now underwater, going through some tunnel-like structure. Under different circumstances, it would’ve been pretty cool, but since it was transporting him to what might be his toughest battle ever.......okay, it was still at least a little cool.

Peter wondered at first how something like this could stay hidden, but even taking a look at the mucky, dirty water of the bay reminded him why. The city had never really seemed to care that much about maintaining the bay’s water. Peter could remember a couple of times where he’d tagged along with one of the Bugle’s reporters who was doing a story on how terrible it had gotten.

After a little while, Peter believed he could finally see his destination: an underground base that looked almost like something out of a sci-fi movie. He appeared to be heading for an entrance point near the back end of it. Trying to steel himself, Peter took in a breath, feeling the warmth of it as he let it back out in his mask. He had to be ready to face everyone he’d fought with in the last couple of months and likely even more, especially if Ock was there.

Whatever he faced though, he would be ready.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Ock turned to see Phineas Mason walk into the lab, diverting his attention from his work.

“I apologize for the delay,” the man began, “but I tested the serum repeatedly, like you insisted.”

“And?” Ock questioned.

“It is still viable,” Mason answered.

“Good,” Ock said, turning his attention back to his work, “We cannot afford any more delays. Once I have completed the final modifications, we will begin immediately.”

“Understood,” Mason replied.

Suddenly, an alarm went off on the control panel in the lab. Ock immediately turned his attention towards it, checking the security cameras. It turned out that none other than Spider-Man had somehow managed to gain access into the secret passageway that led to their underwater base and was now stepping into the initial entrance to the lair.

“What is it?” Mason asked, stepping over towards the doctor. “Oh.”

“I still have work to do,” Ock said. “Send our friends out to greet him; tell them to be sure to offer our guest a warm welcome.”

Mason nodded before departing, and Ock resumed his work, his tentacles working in tandem with his own two hands. He was so close now, and he wasn’t about to let the world’s most annoying arachnid stop him.

Soon, the world would be his to do with as he pleased.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

As the door opened and Peter stepped into the base, he felt as if he was walking into a next-gen tech show. Everywhere he looked, there was nothing short of the finest technology everywhere, especially things that had to do with computers. He even saw a couple supersized servers on the far side of the massive main room near the wall. Honestly, it was kind of hard not to get distracted and overwhelmed by it all.

Trying to stay ready for a fight at any moment, Peter tried to piece together what Ock’s plan might be based on what he was seeing. Aside from the servers, there were other computer-based pieces of technology as well. Really, Peter felt like he was standing on the inside of a giant computer. What exactly could all this be for?

Suddenly, his spider-sense went crazy, and Peter leapt back just in time to avoid an oncoming blow, landing on all fours against the wall. He looked up to see the usual suspects: Sandman, Vulture, and Rhino.

“I would tell you guys just to get out of my way, but I’m pretty sure I know you all better than to that,” Peter said. There would be no time for quips and pleasantries; now was the time for action.

As Sandman unleashed another blast, stretching his arm into one big sand whip, Peter leapt up, front flipping over the strike. Vulture then took off after him, flying so that the sharp blades on his wings would come straight for Peter. He was only barely able to bend out of the way in time, webbing himself onto the old man’s back. Wasting no time, he fired two webs down to the floor, pulling as hard as he could, throwing his opponent off course. The old man managed to avoid crashing into the floor but couldn’t get out of the way of an oncoming wall, crashing into it hard.

Peter’s spider sense then went off again, and he turned to see Rhino and Sandman coming after him . Running to meet them, he slid in between Rhino’ legs before getting back up, leaping onto Rhino’s back.

“Hey!” Rhino shouted, “no rides!” He reached back, clamoring to reach the one invading his personal space. Taking advantage of this, Peter stuck his feet to Rhino’s back, utilizing his momentum against him and sending him flying with all the strength of his legs, sending him crashing into a nearby wall, leaving him stuck for the moment.

Sandman then came after him again, one fist formed into a hammer, the other a mace. He swung at Peter, but his reflexes were not up to speed compared to his opponent’s, who dodged his blows in all manner of ways, whether leaping over or ducking underneath. Nevertheless, he persisted in swinging, reforming his hands into many different weapons such as axes or even tentacles. Peter almost had to admire his opponent’s stubborn nature.

Keeping an eye out for something in their surroundings that could be used against Sandman, Peter also noticed the Vulture had recovered and was coming after him again as well. Throwing his arms ahead of him, it turned out that his suit was now equipped with miniature flamethrowers. Ducking out of the way, Peter still felt the heat of the flames even as he narrowly avoided them.

However, it also gave him an idea.

As Vulture circled around again in between Sandman’s blows, Peter grabbed onto the Vulture, holding him down while aiming the flamethrowers at his other opponent. It only took a matter of seconds for the heat to transform the Sandman into a human sized piece of glass, leaving him frozen in place. Just as the process was complete though, Vulture broke free of Peter’s grip on him, grabbing him and flying him straight into the nearest wall, the impact reminding Peter just how sore and hurting his body still was overall, having largely avoided any direct blows to this point.

Reasserting himself, Peter kneed the man squarely in the ribs, breaking himself free in the process. Hopping over to Adrian’s backside, he jammed his fist into the suit of his enemy, ripping out a chunk of its power source.

“No!” the old man yelled, still trying to swing at Peter with his bladed wings, but all he succeeded in doing was receiving a blow to the head from the hero, knocking him out cold.

Of course, it was at this point that Rhino finally broke free of the wall he had been stuck in.

“Almost there,” Peter had to remind himself. He did have an idea at least.

As Rhino charged him, Peter got in front of one of the giant servers. Timing his leap just right, he got out of the way just in time for Rhino to slam horn first into the giant piece of machinery, a massive amount of electricity surging through him. He managed to get free, but by that point, all the energy had done its job, and he dropped to the floor, unconscious.

Alright, now all that was left was.......

Peter lost his train of thought when he saw an older man wearing a lab coat coming out of a room, holding none other than the treatment he was looking for. He tried to retreat back into the room he had come from, but a web line from Peter caught him in the backside.

“Excuse me,” Peter said as he reeled the man in until he was right in front of him and taking the serum, “but I think there’s someone else who just might need this more than you.”

The guy lunged to try to get the serum back, but Peter sidestepped and pushed him into a wall, pinning him to it with his webs by the hands.

He couldn’t believe it; even as Peter stared down at the blue serum in his hands, he couldn’t........

Spider-sense. Again.

Flipping out of the way of three separate strikes, Peter glanced up from his stance to find that none other than Doctor Octopus had showed up after all.

“You know what they say,” Ock said with a sigh. “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

Chapter Text

Ock’s tentacles lowered him down a little, though he was still well above Peter and the ground he stood on. He held out his hand, an agitated look on his face.

“Hand over the serum, arachnid,” he growled.

“You know, as much as I appreciate how you’re the only one of my enemies who actually respects me enough to at least get my namesake’s class right,” Peter said, getting into more of a defensive stance, “I’m afraid I still can’t do that.”

“Very well,” the doctor replied with a sigh. One of his tentacles then shot with lightning speed straight at Peter, who only barely leapt out of the way. The tentacles continued to strike rapidly, not letting up for a second. Peter only barely managed to stay ahead each time, the chase taking them from the floor to the wall and even to the ceiling of the building.

Peter knew that he couldn’t play keep away forever; if he turned his back on Ock for even a second to try and make an escape, it would be over. The doctor was doing far too good a job of keeping the battle close, so he couldn’t breakaway. He’d have to go on the offensive, but he would have to pick and choose his opportunities carefully. Those arms moved just as fast as he did, maybe even faster.

Maybe if he could get him talking.

“Why do you even need this, doc?” Peter asked, pointing to the serum in his other hand. “What’s the point of a tech wiz like you stealing something like this?”

“A means to an end, Spider-Man,” Ock replied, two tentacles reared back and ready to strike at any moment. “Believe it or not, you’re standing in an extension of my brain right now.”

The tentacles then shot forward, with Peter ducking under than backflipping away from them.

“I’m not sure I follow,” Peter spoke up, trying to continue the conversation. “I mean, I see all this server space you got here, so, what, you’re trying to steal all the world’s information or something?”

“Oh, so much more than that,” Ock boasted as he approached Peter. “After I’ve disposed of you, I will make it so that my brain will have a working wireless connection with every computer across the world. I will effectively run the world as I see fit, taking whatever I need while destroying those who would stand against me.”

“How in the world do you plan to do that?” Peter said, “there’s no way your brain can......”

He then glanced at the serum, and suddenly it was coming together: Ock was planning to use the serum to get his brain to function at a high enough capacity to be able to process all of the information he was talking about. If it really worked that well, then the doctor actually could run the world. Everything ran on or went through technology these days, after all.

An anger started to flow through Peter’s body; his blood began to boil, and he grew hot all over. He’d worked so hard to get this serum as treatment for someone who needed it, someone he loved, and Octavius had stolen it for nothing less than his evil, selfish purposes. He hadn’t cared who got hurt in the process, only concerned about what he’d wanted.

One of the tentacles came after him yet again, but this time, Peter lunged forward, shooting a web straight at the doctor’s eyes. One of the other tentacles managed to block it, but it left just enough time for Peter to strike.............except it didn’t, as another tentacle managed to grab a hold of him just before he could throw his blow, wrapping him up tightly. To make matters worse, he’d dropped the serum when he got hit, though Ock had caught it.

“Oh, how I’ve waited for this day,” Ock said as the tentacle Peter was wrapped in squeezed on him even harder. “You’ve been a thorn in my side for too long, but now, you’ll share the same fate as all others who stand in my way.”

The doctor made a fist with his right hand, and the tentacle Peter was wrapped in seemingly responded to it, squeezing even tighter. Peter was starting to feel more than just cramped; he swore that he could feel the pressure beginning to squeeze even his insides together. He felt like he was about to either blow his top, literally, or be squished into jelly. He groaned as he fought against the mechanical appendage, catching a glance of the serum in Ock’s hand.

No, this wasn’t how he was going out.

With one great effort, Peter stretched his muscles as much as he could, and suddenly, the tentacle around him broke apart, dropping to the ground in pieces along with him.

“Aargh!” Ock yelled, staggering backward.

Peter quickly recovered and, going on the offensive again, he leapt at Ock. The man tried to shoot one of his tentacles at him again, but now, with both hands free, Peter navigated rapidly through them like a kid on a jungle gym, maneuvering through them quickly before delivering a quick but solid punch straight into Ock’s face, causing him to fall back and collapse to the ground. He webbed the serum as Ock released it before it could hit the ground, yanking it back to himself.

The doctor groaned lightly as he struggled to get up, but Peter wasn’t taking any chances. He forced Ock onto his stomach, grabbing ahold of all the tentacles from their point on the harness, and he ripped them out of their sockets.

“No!!” Ock cried out, “what have you done!?”

Peter bent down next to him.

“I’ve made sure you won’t be able to use those to hurt anyone else ever again.”

“You’ve taken away everything from me,” Ock growled, appearing to reach into his lab coat. “Now, it’s my turn to do the same for you.”

Before Peter could react, Ock pressed a small button on a remote-like device he had on his person, and alarms suddenly began going off across the building, red lights blaring on and off.

“Please tell me you did not just trigger a.......”

A couple of explosions rang out at different points in the building.

“.........self-destruct order,” Peter finished.

He had no time to waste. After knocking Ock out so he couldn’t do any more damage, he gathered the unconscious Rhino, Vulture, and the still glassed over Sandman and stuffed them all into the elevator as the building began coming down around him. By the time he was going back over to get the doctor, water was leaking from the outside, with it rapidly covering the floor.

Peter glanced up, seeing a large mechanical structure on the ceiling was barreling down straight for the doctor, so he swiftly ran over and shoved him out of the way, the chunk falling on him instead, causing him to drop the serum again, the vial now laying just out of reach. The impact knocked all the air out of Peter’s body, and the weight already felt like it was crushing him. He immediately began fighting against it, but he couldn’t even so much as budge the large pile of debris.

“No,” Peter muttered. “No no no!”

He fought harder, but the object remained still, unwilling to so much as scoot one way or the other. He couldn’t even really get into a good position to use his arms to lift, the structure pinning him down almost completely flat on his stomach. Peter struggled and struggled, but no matter what he did, no matter how many times he tried, he just didn’t seem to have it in him. He began breathing more heavily from the exertion, his willpower starting to wane. The weight of the object he was trying to lift felt like nothing he’d ever tried to lift before.

“May,” he muttered as he took deep breaths, the seemingly pointless exertion rapidly wearing him down, “I........I’m.........

Peter caught a glimpse of the serum that was just out of his reach. He thought of May, the image of her lying comatose in her hospital bed suddenly flooding his mind. She was counting on him; he was the only one who could save her life.

He couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t give up.

“Come on, Parker,” he said through gritted teeth, pinning his hands to the ground again. He began pushing once more, the structure still refusing to budge.

Peter also thought of Eddie, and all that his friend had told him about and how he had pushed him to not give up on living life to the fullest. He remembered seeing how happy he was with Anne, the joy that the couple shared, and thought of how he wanted to experience that again for himself.

Peter was slowly starting to rise now, the structure and debris only moving because HE was.

Finally, Peter thought of Mary Jane. The two hadn’t known each other long but had nevertheless grown close during that time. He thought of his missed opportunity where he had stopped just short of asking her on a proper date. He thought of everything she had done for him, all the ways she had shown how much she cared, and how she had stayed with him in his weakest moment even as he had begged her to leave.

For the first time in a very long time, Peter realized that he really wanted not just a routine, but a life.

It was what May had wanted for him all along.........and she would live to see it.

Letting out a cry, Peter forced himself upward, the structure lifting even more than before. Once he got it up enough, Peter put his hands to the structure, managing to get on one knee. Taking a couple quick breaths, he strained one more time, managing to get to a partially standing position, if still a little squatted.

The water was rising more and more; it was now or never.

With all the strength he had left, Peter tossed the great weight up as much as he could before diving out of the way of its collapse back to the ground.

He did it.

Quickly grabbing the serum before it could wash away, he grabbed Ock as well, high tailing it to the tunnel as fast as he could. He tossed the doctor inside, pressing the button to send them on their way. They had all managed to get most of the way through when he saw the place finally explode. Thankfully, the tunnel system ran independently, so it continued on its way towards the old pier building, finally arriving and coming to a smooth stop.

Peter removed the villains one by one, leaving them in the building before making his way back to Harry, setting him free from the webbing he’d bound him with. The serum still in hand, he almost doubled over, all his exertion finally seeming to catch up with him.

“Looks like you found what you were looking for,” Harry said.

“Yeah,” Peter said in between breaths, waving the serum up to show him. “I did.”

He then stood up.

“Thanks to you.”

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I know I can never make up for what I’ve done. I’m just glad that I finally did something right for once.”

The sound of police sirens drew their attention. It made sense, since a fisherman or somebody out on the water probably felt the explosion of the base and reported it or something.

“Go,” Harry said, “I’ll fill them in.”

Peter just looked at Harry, unsure of what to say. He still had so many mixed feelings towards his former best friend, but at least a few more of them were positive now. He extended his hand for the man to shake, an invitation which was accepted. He then shot a web and swung off, the serum clutched tightly in his left hand.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Peter stopped his foot from tapping again, trying to reign in his nervous nature.

After he’d run to his apartment, Peter had thrown some street clothes in a bag, made his way to the hospital, changed, then brought the serum in to the doctors, all the while excited that he’d pulled it off after all. However, reality set in when they explained that they needed to check and make sure it was still viable after all it had been through. He’d completely neglected the possibility that, in all the insanity that had taken place around this thing, something somehow could’ve happened to reduce its effectiveness.

They’d started the process of checking it almost immediately, but it felt like it had taken forever. Peter hadn’t left the doc’s side the whole time, eagerly awaiting the results while righting to control his nervous mannerisms. It was just that the thought that he’d put in so much effort and had gone through a lot to get the treatment back but somehow could’ve still found a way to mess it up was something that he could totally see happening, and it terrified him.

Finally, the doctor rotated his chair towards him, and Peter’s whole body stiffened with nervous anticipation.

“It’s still viable.”

Peter closed his eyes, letting out a hard breath of relief, hanging his head as the mental exhaustion from so much anticipation (combined with everything else) hit him.

He’d done it. He’d really done it.

The doctor then gathered some others and they immediately proceeded to begin, checking all their equipment and setting everything up. Peter watched outside the room through the window, rubbing his hands together and once again falling into all kinds of nervous habits. He never took his eyes off the scene though, observing as the doctors injected the treatment through multiple IVs.

After a while, the head doctor came out.

“She seems to have received it well,” he explained, “but only time will tell.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Peter hadn’t even realized he had dozed off when he felt something against his arm, rousing him from his slumber. He opened his eyes slowly, squinting as he looked to see who or what had awoken him.

It was May, who was finally awake.

Peter’s eyes widened as he observed her improved state: she was awake, though still didn’t seem to be quite all there. He could tell that she was registering his presence though, even if she still couldn’t seem to be able to express it through words just yet.

“May?” he muttered, his eyes already tearing up. He stood up from his seat, reaching over to give her a hug, which she reciprocated as best she could with her still limited mobility.

The doctor then came in.

“Well, good to see you’re finally awake,” he said to May before turning to Peter. “We have good news: all of our tests are showing the treatment is successfully countering the chemicals in her brain. If things continue at the pace they’re on, she should regain the ability to talk, engage in conversation, and perform most basic tasks within the next twenty-four hours, and she should be good to go home. However, she will likely still need as much rest as possible.”

“Yeah of course,” Peter replied.

The doctor smiled.

“It really is a miracle, isn’t it?”

After everything he had been through to get to this point, Peter couldn’t help but agree.

“Yes, yes it is.”

Chapter Text

For the better part of the next week, Peter stayed with May upon her return home, spending most of his waking hours performing work around the house. He washed laundry, he cooked meals, he cleaned the bathroom, and did anything else necessary. Naturally, as his aunt continued to improve, she had a harder and harder time with this, feeling it was her responsibility to take care of her own place. Peter was able to win out for the first half of the week pretty easily, since she still couldn’t last too long after getting up before getting tired. However, as the week wore on, May grew stronger, and eventually she all but kicked him out, reminding him that he had a real job he needed to get back to.

While it had been kind of fun living back at home for a little while and spending so much time with May, Peter had to admit that it did feel good to return towards the end of the week. After all the craziness of the last month or so, it felt nice to get back into some semblance of a routine again, or at least as much of one as his crazy existence would allow. Eddie, Robbie and everyone else at the Bugle gave him a warm welcome upon his return as well. After everything they had done for him, Peter felt a little guilty that part of him still wanted to find a job as a scientist somehow.

As much as these people had done for him, how could he even think of trying to leave?

He ultimately opted not to worry about that too much for the time being, deciding to just enjoy what he had and let the dust settle for a while.

Besides, Peter had other concerns, such as Harry. After the arrest of Ock and the other villains, it was discovered that the Chameleon had murdered the true warden of the Vault and stolen his identity, though the always masked man himself had apparently slipped through law enforcement’s hands again. Still, after learning at the Bugle of a hearing for Harry in the aftermath of everything, he paid a visit as Spider-Man to testify to the fact that Osborn had not only been brought out of the Vault by the impersonator but had escaped and assisted him in the capture of the other villains before surrendering himself back into their custody.

There was nothing official yet, but from the last Peter had heard, it sounded like Harry would get out of solitary confinement at the very least, if not potentially get transferred to Ravencroft instead, with the opportunity for another shot at rehabilitation. There was no guarantee that he would reenter society again even if he was granted all that, but at least Harry had something to work toward now. Above all else though, Peter felt his animosity towards his best friend slowly beginning to dissipate. He still wasn’t sure if he could ever look at him in the same way he once did, but at least there was a sense of resolution now.

Then there was Mary Jane. Peter had made sure to update her early on about his success in retrieving the serum and May’s subsequent improvement, which she seemed to share in his joy over as well. He also made a point to thank her again, which she didn’t protest or tease him about this time, simply taking it in stride and acknowledging it. Other than that, he’d been so focused on May that he hadn’t seen her all that much otherwise.

That didn’t mean that she wasn’t on his mind a lot though.

There would definitely be some stuff to sort through, especially now that she was in on his secret. They would have a lot to talk about, but at the same time, Peter also didn’t want to just dump everything on her about both sides of his life at once. What he did want was to continue to get to know her, to learn as much as he could about her, and to just spend as much time with her as he could. He wanted to know her likes and dislikes, and he wanted to know how he could make her happy.

In short, Peter wanted to know everything there was to know about Mary Jane Watson.

As luck would have it, come the end of the week, Peter found himself exiting his apartment just in time to see Mary Jane heading towards the elevator. He hurriedly locked his door, almost dropping his keys in his rush to do so. He then stuffed them in his pocket as he jogged over to her, drawing her attention.

“What’s the rush, Tiger?” she asked, a smile adorning her face. “We both know these elevators are super slow.”

“Actually, I was wanting to see if you wanted to take the stairs instead?” Peter asked.

M.J. rotated herself in his direction, a curious and slightly eager expression taking over her.

“Oh really?” she asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Peter replied, “someone actually told me a while back that taking the stairs is good exercise.”

“Hmm,” M.J. said, a pleased smile on her face. “That person sounds pretty smart.”

“I certainly think so,” Peter replied, gesturing his right hand towards the stairs. “Shall we?”

Of course, in that moment, the doors to the elevator opened, but M.J. didn’t pay them any attention, instead walking over to accept his invitation. Peter opened the door to them, holding it for her.

“Thank you,” she replied as she slipped past him. Peter then came alongside her, and at first, there was silence between the two of them. He knew what he wanted to say, but still found himself struggling to get it out there. It seemed that, even at almost thirty years old, the butterflies that came with asking a girl out didn’t quite go away.

“How’s your aunt?” Mary Jane asked, initiating the conversation.

“Huh?” Peter asked; his mind took an extra moment to process her question after its sudden snap back to reality. “Oh, she’d doing much better. I’ll be checking on her later just to make sure she doesn’t need anything, since she wouldn’t tell me if she did, but she’s doing just about everything on her own now. She just gets a little tired if she works herself too hard.”

“Makes sense,” M.J. acknowledged. “She seems really tough though.”

“Oh yeah,” Peter confirmed, “I mean, she put up with my uncle and I for all those years, so she had to be.”

Man, they were already three of their nine floors down. He really needed to pick up the pace.

“M.J, I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said, stopping abruptly.

“Oh, okay,” M.J. said, a curious expression on her face. Her eyes peered into his; it felt like she was searching down to his soul for what he might say next.

Peter swallowed, hoping his nervousness wasn’t coming across too obviously.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to say for a little while actually,” he said, “but I just...........I had some things holding me back. After everything that I’ve been through recently though, I’ve realized something: I need to stop living in the past, and, I don’t know, think my future a little bit.”

Peter was nervous that his rambling might be losing M.J, but her focused expression remained unchanged. If anything, he swore he could see the beginnings of a smile threatening to extend across her cheeks at any moment.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he let out a small breath before opening them, meeting her gaze.

“M.J,” he said,

“Yes?” she asked.

“What would you say if I was to ask you out on a date?” he said. “Like, a real, go out to eat, go to the park or something kind of date?”

That smile that had been threatening to form a second ago now stretched seemingly endlessly across her cheeks, and it was enough to make Peter’s heart skip a beat.

“I’d say that I think you just hit the jackpot, Tiger,” Mary Jane replied.

Peter couldn’t even put to words how ecstatic her answer made him.

“Well, that’s good,” Peter said. “Since, you know, we have like another six floors to go, and it would’ve been a really awkward walk the rest of the way if you had said no.”

Mary Jane laughed at his response, and the two continued on their way, talking through potential ideas for the evening.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

M.J. walked into the shop, having gotten caught up in a little more traffic than normal on the way in. Some customers had already shown up, but thankfully Liz and a few other employees were handling things just fine.

“Oh good, you’re here,” Liz said upon seeing her. “Listen, I need your opinion on.........”

Liz just suddenly stopped, giving M.J. a funny look.

“What?” she asked.

“Why are you smiling so much?” Liz asked.

“Oh, I have my reasons,” M.J. replied.

Liz’s eyes grew wide.

“It’s about Peter, isn’t it?”

M.J. could already feel her lips stretching into a wide smile again, but she kept it subdued so she it at least looked normal sized.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” she said in a more hushed tone, noticing more customers coming into the store.

“Oh, come on!” Liz protested.

“I’ll tell you about it at lunch, okay?” M.J. reiterated. “I have customers to attend to.”

Mary Jane couldn’t wait to share about Peter asking her out, but at the same time, the crueler side of her relished in toying with her best friend's curiosity and eagerness. Fortunately, there was a steady stream of customers throughout the morning, so it made it easier to hold onto it just a bit longer, even though M.J. found herself having a hard time focusing on the job at points.

Finally, lunchtime eventually arrived, and it was no sooner than the two ladies had gotten out the door that Liz was at Mary Jane’s side, eagerly awaiting the promised story.

“Well?” Liz asked.

“I said at lunch,” M.J. teased, “and last I checked, there isn’t any food in front of us at the moment.”

“M.J,” Liz said, giving her an annoyed look. “You know I’ve been your biggest supporter in this; I mean, I literally went to lunch by myself on a whim just to let you two have some time together. I think I deserve at least a little something for my efforts, don’t you?”

M.J. rolled her eyes; as much fun as keeping Liz on the edge of her seat was, she was starting to find it hard to contain herself as well.

“Well,” she began, “he actually asked me out on a real date this morning.”

“I knew it!” Liz replied enthusiastically. “Don’t tell me that you kept him waiting for a response like you did me though?”

M.J. laughed.

“No,” she replied, “I mean I hesitated a little, but I think that was because part of me almost couldn’t believe that it was happening, like it didn’t fully register that it was real at first.”

“This is so cool!” Liz said, her tone much giddier than M.J. was used to. “When are you guys going out?”

“Tonight,” Mary Jane answered as they continued walking. “We’re not going to do anything too crazy. We’re going to a pizza place near our apartment, then we’re going to head to Central Park and just kind of walk around, give ourselves a chance to get each other a bit more.”

“That’s awesome,” Liz replied. “I’m so happy for you, M.J. I know how much you’ve wanted this.”

“Thanks,” M.J. responded.

After walking a few more blocks, the talk mostly centered around Peter Parker, of course, the two ladies eventually made it to a build your own Italian style place that they had wanted to try for a while. M.J. was still so wrapped up in conversation that it took her an extra second to realize that she recognized the person that was taking their order.

It was her dad.

M.J. froze when she saw him, her mind scrambling to process what was happening, as if what she was seeing was a physical impossibility.

“Dad?” she asked.

“Hey Mary,” he said. Fortunately, he remained professional for the moment, insisting on taking their order. Liz did most of the talking as M.J. struggled to regain her headspace. She hadn’t seen her father since their blowout after she’d discovered he’d gone drinking despite his attempt at sobriety. She’d been so busy in that time that she’d not given too much thought to his present whereabouts.

Maybe she hadn’t wanted to know.

With nobody behind in line behind them, M.J. told Liz she could find the two of them a seat, and she would join her shortly. Her friend complied, grabbing their food and heading off to pick a spot to eat. Mary Jane then turned to her father.

“I swear, if you picked this spot because it’s just a few blocks from my shop, I’ll.........”

“That’s not why I chose this,” he said, raising his hand to stop her. “Really, it was the first place that offered to hire me, so I just jumped at it.”

“I see,” M.J. replied.

There was a moment of awkward silence between them.

“Mary,” her father suddenly spoke up, “I actually wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” she asked, her eyebrows narrowing at him.

Her father let out a sigh.

“For being right,” he answered. “I haven’t taken enough responsibility or been accountable enough for my own actions. I guess part of me was always just waiting for you, someone or something to come in and make it all better, but it took you saying what you did the way you did for me to wake up.”

M.J. just stared at her father, her brain seeming a little foggy suddenly. The encounter was feeling like a strange dream.

“Okay,” she finally said, “so, how’d you end up here?”

“Well,” her father began, “after my time at the hotel ran out, I went to a nearby shelter place. I explained my situation, and luckily, they took me in. I’ve been getting some training and a little more rehab there, and I got this job until I finish with their program there, which will hopefully set me up a little better than before.”

Mary Jane only nodded, unable to offer a verbal response.

“Mary,” her father said, “I know that I haven’t done anything to claim a proper place in your life as your father. I broke your trust; I hurt you and your sister on a deeper level than I deserve to be forgiven for. I guess.........I guess I’m just hoping it’s not too late to have a chance to earn it the right way this time.”

M.J. swallowed. There was still so much pain all the way down in her soul that was only there because of him. He had tried to earn her trust again, then broke that trust just as fast. She had no reason to believe anything would be different this time, even if her father seemed more humbled and genuine than before.

Still, there was a tiny, tiny part of her that wanted a second chance for them both as well.

With all these mixed feelings still stewing around her gut, M.J. finally offered the only response she could manage.

“We’ll see.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

As the day neared its end, Peter walked into Robbie’s office, finding Eddie there as well.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” he said.

“Yes, thanks for coming Peter,” Robbie said. “I just wanted to say that you two both did outstanding work on that article about Doctor Octopus and all the tech thefts. You two put a lot of long hours into this story, so I felt your work should be commended.”

“Thank you very much, Mr. Robertson,” Eddie replied.

“Yes, thank you sir,” Peter added, “though I would say that Eddie here had the much harder job.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Eddie protested, “a good article is just a bunch of words without the visual images to back them up.”

“Okay boys, we all get it,” Robbie replied with a chuckle. “Seriously, nice work. You keep it up, you might not only find Pulitzer Prizes in your futures, but maybe some raises as well.”

“Just doing the best we can sir,” Peter replied.

“Well, I for one would love a raise,” Eddie said, obviously poking at Peter’s humility. Sometimes the man was just too much.

“Alright you two, it’s about the end of the day,” Robbie remarked. “Get out of here and go enjoy yourselves, especially you Peter. If anyone’s earned it around here, it’s you.”

“I second that,” Eddie remarked.

“Thanks, Mr. Robertson,” Peter replied. “I just might.”

He and Eddie then turned and walked out of the office.

“What does that mean?” Eddie asked.

“What does what mean?” Peter questioned in return.

“Your answer to the boss,” Eddie clarified, “what did it mean? Does the all-work-and-no-play Peter Parker have something going on tonight?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Peter responded proudly as he grabbed his bag from his desk. “Mary Jane and I are going on a date.”

“Dude!” Eddie replied, shaking Peter’s shoulder in excitement, “that’s awesome man!” He then held up his hand, and Peter almost rolled his eyes as he took it in his own and Eddie reeled him in for a one-armed hug.

“Seriously though, good for you,” Eddie added. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks man,” Peter replied, “and thank you. You were right in what you said about being open to something.”

“See, I actually do know what I’m talking about from time to time,” Eddie replied. “Next time I need to remind Anne of that, I’ll have to call you up.”

There was no stopping Peter’s eyes from rolling this time.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” replied, waving goodbye to his coworker as he headed for the elevator. “See you tomorrow.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

As was almost always the case, Spider-Man interfered with plans to some degree. He was nearly home to change and head to May’s quickly before meeting up with M.J, when suddenly the police scanner in Peter’s phone alerted him to a hostage situation. This instance was especially tricky, since he didn’t end up having a lot of places to utilize stealth, but he eventually handled the situation without so much as an injury to one of the hostages.

However, it did set Peter’s schedule back a little. Having finally gotten Mary Jane’s number that morning, he contacted her first, saying he was going to be running a little later than he’d anticipated. He tried to say he could just check on May tomorrow, but M.J. insisted she could just come with him instead, saying she’d love to meet his aunt. After she repeatedly assured him it wasn’t an inconvenience towards their time together, Peter finally relented, getting home and changing as quickly as he could before going over to pick her up from her place.

When he picked her up, Peter observed that Mary Jane wasn’t wearing anything too fancy: a newer shirt, a nice pair of jeans and a brown jacket, her hair long and flowing.

In short, she looked absolutely stunning.

The two of them chatted as they took the bus from Manhattan to Queens, talking about all manner of things from how things were going at the shop, to how M.J. and Liz had met, to her seeing her father again, to how Uncle Ben had taught Peter the value of working at things with his hands. Naturally, the topic did end up at Spider-Man, with Peter reassuring M.J. that could ask whatever she wanted to, and he would tell her if he wasn’t ready to talk about something.

“So, what’s like, the craziest adventure you’ve had?” she asked him as they were walking the last couple blocks to May’s house.

“Well, less than a day before we met actually, I went to another dimension and met alternate versions of myself from other earths.”

Mary Jane stopped dead in her tracks, looking at him as if he had three heads.

“Wait, what?”

“I know, it sounds insane,” Peter said, “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“Wow,” M.J. replied as they resumed walking. “What was that like?”

“Uhmm.......” Peter said, struggling to find the words to some up such a bizarre circumstance, “it was really cool, actually. One of the versions of me that I met was still a teenager. He was going through a lot, so me and an older version of me got to share our experiences a little bit and help him out.”

“Sounds nice,” M.J. responded.

“I guess I also met your doppelganger, or at least someone with your name initials,” Peter added.

“Oh?” M.J. asked, her curiosity peaked, “what was she like?”

“She’s.........kind of like you, but also not really,” Peter answered. “She threw bread at me while trying to prove I was who I said I was. That world’s Peter Parker was her boyfriend, so I guess I understand the need, but I still say me sticking to the ceiling was more than enough.”

“Okay, back up,” M.J. said, “you said that world’s M.J. was also dating Peter Parker?”

“Yep, and the older me said he ended up with someone named M.J. as well,” Peter replied.

M.J. eyes grew wide.

“So, when you learned my name........”

“It’s safe to say I definitely noticed,” Peter replied. “Even then, I tried not to let it play into my mentality too much. All three of us were the same in name but all had much different experiences, so I didn’t want to just go for it because it was some multiversal constant or something. For all I knew at the time, you could’ve ended up actually being really terrible.”

“Well, I’m sure glad I’m at least not terrible,” M.J. teased.

“I mean, you only spent all night throwing together a campaign to help save my aunt’s life and stayed with me after I Iiterally yelled at you to leave, so you at least have a couple things going for you,” Peter joked, prompting a chuckle from Mary Jane.

After a moment, the two of them had arrived and were no standing at the base of the steps to May’s house.

“I’m so nervous,” M.J. suddenly said, burying her face into Peter’s shoulder and clutching at his shirt.

“Nervous?” Peter questioned, “what are you nervous about? This was your idea.”

“I know,” M.J. replied, “but now that we’re here, I’m thinking of all the reasons that she may not like me.”

“Oh, come on,” Peter protested, “what’s not to like?”

“That’s easy for you to say,” M.J. countered, “getting a guy to like me is one thing, but the woman whose basically his mother..........”

The door to the place suddenly opened and May came walking out to greet them.

“May,” Peter said in an annoyed tone, “we talked about this; you need to take it easy.”

“Oh Peter, it’s been over a week,” May protested as she came down the stairs. “Besides, I couldn’t wait to meet who you were bringing.”

“Hi!” M.J. said, her enthusiasm having suddenly returned.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” May said, giving Mary Jane a hug. “I understand I have you to thank in part for my being here today.”

“Well, I was just happy that I could find a way to help,” M.J. said, wrapping her right arm around Peter. May seemed to think it looked cute, but Peter got the distinct sense that he was M.J.’s lifeline.

“You two want to come in for a moment?” May asked. “I promise I won’t hold you up too long.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” M.J. replied, looking up at Peter, who nodded in agreement.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

True to her word, May only kept them for about a half hour. The conversation amongst the three was actually very smooth, and it didn’t take long for M.J. to genuinely relax. The two women seemed to get along quite nicely, which pleased Peter greatly.

“I know you two are just now really getting into things, but she seems lovely,” May said at one point while M.J. was in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, she is,” Peter agreed.

After their visit, the two of them were soon on their way. The sun was already setting, and it felt like it was going to be a cool, pleasant evening.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry,” Peter replied. “Then again, my metabolism is nuts, so if you’re not there yet, I definitely get it.”

“No, I’m definitely getting there too,” M.J. replied, “but.......”

She moaned, an obvious hesitancy keeping her from saying what she wanted to say.

“What?” Peter asked.

“Nothing,” M.J. responded, though something about her smile betrayed her words.

“Come on, what is it?” Peter asked, getting in front of her to stop her.

M.J. let out a sigh.

“It’s just that there was something I was hoping we could do tonight,” she explained, “something that only Spider-Man can do that I’ve always wanted to experience without the usual reasons for doing it.”

Peter gave her a funny look; it didn’t take long for what she was referring to to click in his mind.

“You want to go web swinging, don’t you?”

M.J. just smiled back at him.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Next thing Peter knew, he was suited up sans mask, standing at the top of their apartment building, with Mary Jane rubbing her hands together.

“Oh my goodness, this is going to be so cool!” she explained.

Peter smiled, shaking his head. Her enthusiasm was humorous, but it was also reassuring, because here stood a woman who embraced both the man and the spider, seemingly without fear.

Mary Jane Watson really was something else.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready,” she affirmed.

Peter was about ready to slip on his mask, when she stopped him.

“Wait,” she said suddenly before coming up to him, cupping his cheeks in her hands and pulling him into a kiss.

“Sorry,” she said, “I tried to wait, but it just felt like the right moment, so I.......”

Peter silenced her, pulling her close and planting a deep kiss of his own on her. The world around them seemed to fade away as they just held each other for a moment, taking it all in. When they finally separated, it still took a moment to pull out of each other’s gaze.

“Ready?” Peter asked.

“Always,” M.J. responded.

Slipping on his mask, Peter then leapt off the building, clutching M.J. by his side. He fired a web, and soon, the two of them were off and swinging together into the night.