Archive of Our Own

“They’re sad.” Peter was sitting on the floor in the lab, his drawing long forgotten on the floor. His right hand was holding a pen so hard, his knuckles turned white. His left hand was clutching at his heart as if the emotions were too much for him and he had to get them out.

It wasn’t the first time he had felt the strange feelings of someone else. There were those times when he would tell his parents about his day and they would smile at him and laugh or ruffle his hair, and suddenly a voice in his head would scold him to stay quiet if he has nothing important to say. It was always a man’s voice. Rough and unpleasant. And he would shut up, thinking his parents were the ones who got mad. That they didn’t like his stories. That he wasn’t important. It took them a while to reassure him that they weren’t the ones yelling at him and despite the worry in their eyes, they didn’t do anything about it, thinking it was a one-time thing.

Then it happened again and again, always the same voice and always some kind of scolding words. And Peter’s parents decided to get him checked. They hoped his imagination was just really wild. But all of the psychologists told them it wasn’t him who made up those moments, those voices. Peter’s parents were just about to give up when a doctor suggested they went to see a soulmate expert, perhaps. Desperate, they decided to take the advice and started looking for someone who would be willing to check Peter out. That proved to be really hard seeing as soulmate connections were usually really weak at Peter’s age and the soulmate doctors and professors just couldn’t be bothered to check a child. They claimed it was a waste of their time.

And yet Peter did get checked by an expert. It just happened in the most random way possible. They were all sitting in a restaurant in Manhattan, trying to cheer Peter up after he was turned down by another doctor when it happened again. He heard the voice telling him to get out of his sight and not interrupt. Alarmed, Peter gripped the table in front of him and stood up, immediately running towards the exit, confused and flustered and so, so scared. He was aware of his parents calling after him, getting up and chasing him, but they weren’t the one who stopped him from escaping. It was a man with the kindest face Peter has ever seen and a shocked expression on his face. He was just about to enter the restaurant when Peter ran into him.

The man’s arms wrapped themselves around Peter, holding him in place and yet staying gentle, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with him. Peter fought him for a few moments until tears streamed down his face and his legs gave way until the only reason he was still standing was that the man kept him up straight. A hand landed on his head, smoothing his hair. He could recognize his Mommy’s touch anywhere, anytime. But this time he flinched away from her, the words still echoing through his head.

“Hey, kid? Kid, are you okay?” The man asked. His voice was nothing like the scolding male voice scolding Peter so he looked up at him and his lip wobbled as he pouted. “Did someone hurt you?” His eyes glanced up at Peter’s parents for a slip second and from the corner of his eyes Peter noticed the way they stiffened, as if being accused of something.

Blinking, Peter shook his head once. Then twice. “N-no.” Don’t speak unless it’s important. Unless it’s worth being said. These horrible, terrible words ran through his mind, keeping him quiet. It happened so often lately… his parents were worried because their talkative child turned reserved and distant despite his bubbly personality.

The man loosened his grip around Peter and bent down in front of him, smiling reassuringly. “What’s your name, kid?”

Peter looked back at his parents concerned faces before turning back to the man. He learned never to talk to strangers, but their parents were right there, standing frozen in place after he pushed them away again. If he wasn’t allowed to speak, they would have stopped him, right?

“Peter.” He muttered.

Smiling softly, the man nodded. “Hey, Peter. My name is Bruce Banner.” And, oh. That name was familiar to him. Peter loved science despite adults trying to make him like things like toy cars and dinosaurs. And the name Bruce Banner was seriously known. He was a scientist. A doctor of… Peter couldn’t quite remember but he knew he was smart. “Are those your parents?” At Peter’s nod, he continued. “They didn’t hurt you, right?”

Peter frowned. “Of course not.”

“Good. Do you mind if I have a chat with them for a moment?”

And that’s how Bruce Banner started getting involved. It turned out he studied soulmate connections for years now and was one of the best soulmate doctors out there. Apparently, he could vaguely see signs of distress connected to that bond in Peter and decided to try and see if he could help. Peter’s parents were so relieved at finally being allowed to see someone who was willing to examine Peter’s problem that they were willing to pay Bruce as much as he’d like. The scientist, though, claimed it was a great chance for him to observe something new and refused to take any charge.

They met up with him a couple of times. Peter was hooked to machines and had to answer questions. He tried to explain what he felt every time those sentences attacked his brain and Bruce’s encouraging smiles made him relax and feel a lot better even before they managed to solve this case.

In the end, Bruce affirmed that it was, in fact, related to Peter’s soulmate bond. “It’s strong. Stronger than anything I’ve ever seen before and he’s just a kid. I wonder what it’s going to look like in the future, honestly.” He explained to Peter’s parents one day. The kid himself was allowed to sketch happily on a piece of paper with a blue pen Bruce gave him. He listened too, though. “I have to warn you that there are soulmate bonds that are strong on one side of the connection and weak on the other. It could lead to a troublesome situation.”

Peter’s Mommy frowned. “What do you mean?”

Bruce took his time trying to figure out how to explain this. “Think of the bond as a drug. If you get addicted to it and then it cuts itself and you can no longer get it, you’d feel bad. The stronger the connection is, the worse it feels.” He stopped to let the words sink in. “I don’t know who’s Peter’s soulmate is, but I hope or the sake of the both of them, especially Peter, that they would want this connection just as much as Peter does.”

Peter turned to his drawing, staring at the two figures he drew on it. They were stick-people, but he still drew a line from the place he thought the heart should be at and connected the two of them. Soulmates. That’s what he thought the word meant. Someone you’re connected to. He imagined the line being cut short and his stick figure collapsing onto its knees. He felt sick just thinking about it.

And then he felt it. A tug at his heart. Like someone was trying to make him feel bad. Sad. Lonely. Confused. Slightly relieved, maybe. His heart pounded stronger and stronger as he brought his hand to touch his chest, trying to soothe the pain. If Bruce was right, this feeling belonged to his soulmate. Not to Peter. He let go of the painting and looked at the adults.

“They’re sad.” He pouted, eyes shining. The three adults turned to look at him. His Mommy’s face looked pitiful and his Daddy’s eyes softened at the sight of him. Only Bruce smiled at him, his encouraging grin.

“Why don’t you help them feel better, Peter?” He suggested and pointed at the pen still held between Peter’s fingers. The boy looked at it for a moment before he smiled too and pulled up his long sleeve. He didn’t know why, but the thing he ended up drawing was a small flower. He thought it looked pretty good compared to his skills. His Mommy always said he wasn’t too great at drawing and yet that he was good at so many other things that it didn’t matter. But right now… right now he hoped it was good enough for his soulmate.

A few moments passed before the feelings eased. The loneliness gave way to warmth he remembered from the times he spent with his parents, laughing or watching movies or just being together and feeling happy.

He looked up at Bruce and nodded. “They’re better.”

Peter felt numb. Empty. Hollow. His limbs rested at his side and he looked out the window, not really seeing the view. He could feel his aunt and uncle looking at him every few seconds but couldn’t bring himself to look back. He was too busy not feeling a thing. Nothing, that is, but pain and hurt and sorrow and God, he wanted to cry forever. And to think after Iron-man showed up and saved him he felt giddy and happy. How the tables have turned.

His arm tingled but he didn’t look down. The soulmate bond felt strange tonight and Peter wanted to tell his parents about it, but… but he couldn’t. Because they were there anymore. He would never be able to talk to them. The only ones he had left were Aunt May and Uncle Ben and he barely knew them. And he knew it would feel wrong to read or write to his soulmate with them around. It something personal. It was something he didn’t want to share with anyone but his parents.

The car came to a stop in front of an apartment building in Queens. He didn’t really move too far from his original home, but it felt like a whole new place, knowing that this place was going to be his home now and not the little house a few blocks away with the ceiling full of stars and the stain on the wall near his bed. His eyes watered when he got out of the car and Peter let his aunt lead him forward, not saying a word and just nodding along with her voice.

They sounded nice, Aunt May and Uncle Ben. Uncle Ben was his Daddy’s brother so they looked really similar but Peter knew the difference would bother him for a long time. He didn’t want his uncle to be his Daddy. He wanted his real parents to come back and hug and comfort him. But they couldn’t and Peter found himself waiting on the couch in the living room for Aunt May to come back and tell him his room was ready.

“Do you need anything else, sweety? Anything at all? Do you want something to eat? There’s a glass of water on the desk inside your room but I can get you some snacks too, if you’d like.” Aunt May offered and Peter shook his head slowly, not meeting her eyes. She didn’t bother him after he closed the door behind him and collapsed onto his new bed. It felt different. It felt strange. It felt wrong.

Turning this way and that, Peter realized he wouldn’t fall asleep anytime soon so he tugged at his sleeve until the writing from his Star was visible to him. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, my flower. I’m with you. Just tell me what I can do to help. Just talk to me. His heart pounded in his chest and tears streamed down his cheeks. He wasn’t alone. She was there. She was there. She was there.

Don’t leave me. He wrote quickly. He was sure the letters were almost impossible to read because he could barely see them through his teary eyes, but his Star replied, nonetheless.

I have a notebook with stars on the covers that my mom bought me. She said it was the only thing she could find, but I know she bought it because that’s what you call me. She wrote. It had nothing to do with Peter’s parents and what had happened at the expo, and Peter was so grateful. He was almost certain she could feel it herself, the relief flowing from him. I draw in it. Sometimes it’s dumb things. But sometimes it's what I think you look like. I think one of the sketches of you look more like a drawing of Harry Styles, though. My mom won’t stop listening to One Direction, lately. It’s getting on my nerves, honestly.

And she kept on writing despite not hearing anything from him. Peter guessed she could tell he read everything. She had to wash her hand and legs every now and then to clear some space for more words to come and Peter didn’t even realize how long it’s been until his uncle opened the door hesitantly. Peter immediately covered his hands with his sleeves. He could tell by the knowing glint in his eyes that Uncle Ben knew exactly what Peter was doing, but he refused to acknowledge it. And then Uncle Ben asked if Peter got any sleep and apparently the way he looked was enough of an answer because he asked Peter to at least try.

It was really late in the morning. Peter blinked at the clock on his wall and then smiled at his hand. His Star stayed up to keep him company. She tried to help. She really did. So he took his pen and pulled his sleeve back up. Star, go to sleep.

There was a moment of hesitation from her side. How are you feeling?

Better. I swear. But you have to sleep. It’s been hours. I bet you’re really tired. And when she refused to leave him he promised to sleep as well until she gave up and bid him goodnight. His skin stopped tingling and Peter found himself lying in his dark room, staring at the ceiling and feeling a little better. Not good, not at all, but better. Not as lonely. Not as miserable.

His back hit the lockers behind him and his head pounded. Helpless. He felt helpless in front of those awful idiots who enjoyed torturing him so much. What the hell was wrong with them? Why was being mean their favorite thing in life? And why was he their favorite punching bag??

“Oh, look!” One of them called. “I think he’s about to cry.” His teasing tone made the crowd gathering around to laugh at Peter’s expense. Not too far Peter noticed Ned standing and watching and seemingly distressed. But Peter didn’t want him to get in the line of fire too, so he just shook his head slightly and tried to calm himself down. God, his head really hurt.

Peter hated them. He hated them so much, with their mocking smirks and iron fists. He wished he could protect himself but his muscles were barely there, too weak to actually do anything useful. And I’m not about to cry, He thought. I’m just having an asthma attack. Which was bad because Peter’s bag was too far away and no one seemed to realize what was going on.

One of the bullies punched him in the face, missing his glasses only barely. It didn’t really matter, though, because they were already broken from the left hook he got two days ago. But back then he didn’t have an asthma attack. Now… now he whizzed out, trying to support himself with the lockers behind him. God, he felt like he was dying. And they kept on laughing, like he was their personal entertainer.

Stop laughing at me! He closed his eyes, his thoughts echoing around in his mind. Stop. Stop. STOP!! He fell to the ground, out of breath and tearing up, trying to point at his back. Someone screamed. It wasn’t one of the bullies. Maybe Ned? He couldn’t tell. The world was kind of starting to spin around him because he couldn’t BREATHE. God, why was he panicking? Oh, yeah, he was dying, surrounded by these mean idiots. Stupid lungs. Stupidest lungs ever. I need air! I need… Stop laughing and get me my inhaler!

The panic swirling inside his chest intensified and, as if from far away, he realized this wasn’t his panic. This feeling wasn’t his, but his soulmate’s. His Star’s. His hand tingled fiercely, as if Star wasn’t careful and was hurting herself with the sharp pen. She didn’t seem to care though and only kept on writing.

Whizzing and grasping for air, Peter was distantly aware of Ned trying to get to him. Relax, idiot. You’re scaring her. You’re freaking her out. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. I’m going to be okay. His mind was buzzing at his thoughts and he didn’t know why it felt so different. And then a hand grabbed his and put the familiar inhaler there. He stared at it for a moment before finally putting it up to his mouth.

It felt like forever before he managed to really look around. The students were now gone. The only ones around were Mr. Harrington and Ned. Both looked at him with worry and concern that Peter wanted to wipe away. This wasn’t new. Well, the asthma was a new part of this getting bullied thing, but it wasn’t anything he didn’t know how to handle.

Looking away, Peter focused on his still tingling arm. He frowned at it, trying to understand what was going on. His Star was probably panicked because of his frantic thoughts. Nothing more. But… but what was this weird feeling? His thoughts sounded louder. Echoey. Like they were being said out loud in his mind. He frowned to himself, letting Ned haul him onto his feet.

They were asking him if he was okay but Peter just nodded and smiled, trying to please them enough to slip away. He needed Star. He needed to write. He needed to read what she wrote on their skin. And eventually they did let him go. Ned had to go to class, but Mr. Harrington said Peter could take this period to collect himself and Peter thanked him before entering the closest restroom. He locked himself in one of the stools and then looked down at his arm.

Flower? Are you okay? What the hell was that? Did you know this could happen? I’m freaking out over here. Oh, no. Another asthma attack? Are you okay? Who’s laughing at you?? Flower? Flower?? Breathe. Come on, I know you’ll get through this. Please, breathe. Where’s your inhaler?? Did you get it? Stop telling yourself not to freak out. I’m already freaked out. My teacher let me out of class. I think she thought I went mad. Maybe I have. This is crazy. Are you alright??

And then there was another message being written. He looked at the words as his Star wrote them. Hesitant.

My flower?

He sighed and leaned on the wall behind him. His face hurt. Plus… his chest and throat. But he didn’t really pay much attention to it. Instead he pulled a pen he kept in his back pocket all the time and dragged it against his skin.

I’m alright, my Star. I’m fine, I swear. But what happened? I don’t understand.

There was no reply for a few moments and Peter thought maybe Star had to get back to class, but then he felt the tingle on his arm and a smile took over his face. No matter what Star wrote to him, it always made him feel happy and giddy. Your thoughts were really loud. I could hear them. It really took me off guard. You should have seen me yelp. There was a moment of peace where Peter scrunched up his nose. Star could hear his thoughts? That was… that was beyond anything they’ve ever done before. It was serious. It was kinda scary.

It was awesome.

The stories about soulmates who could transfer thoughts were wonderful or dreadful. There were the happy ones with the soulmates who cared and loved each other so much, the thoughts floated between them easily, smoothly. But there were the ones where one of the soulmates died. Or one of them didn’t feel the same. Then the soulmate who’s bond was greater felt bad. Like… REALLY bad. Bad, as in sick and upset and gloomy and God, Peter didn’t want to be one of THOSE soulmates.

The warning of Bruce Banner came to mind, reminding him that his connection was risky. It was beautiful and strong and it seemed like they were both invested in it, but it could turn in a heartbeat. It could leave him scarred and hurt and hollow. He considered telling Star about Bruce’s words from all those years ago but decided against it when he thought about how happy they were. They’d be fine.

How did you do it, my flower?

Peter swallowed. I’m not sure. I was just thinking. It felt weird, though. Like… if it’d happen to you, you’d know, my star. He hesitated. But I guess I shouldn’t do it again, right? I mean, you wouldn’t want me to sneak around your head. It sounds creepy.

She surprised him by encouraging him to actually try again. And, surprisingly, he did it. At first he felt clumsy, trying to deliver his thoughts over to his soulmate, but it took him only a couple of minutes to get the hang of it and with the widest smile on his face he went through the day, talking to her with his thoughts and cheering her on when it didn’t come as naturally got her as it did for him.

Whenever she tried thinking out loud Peter felt like hearing her underwater. Or from really far away. There was static in her thoughts, making her voice and words sound muffled and unclear. And she couldn’t deliver full sentences. Only two or three words a time. It clearly frustrated her, but she refused to talk about it.

He could tell she was blaming her inability to speak. He could feel it in his bones. He remembered her telling him she had never spoken before in her life. They were kids back there. Barely even seven. And at first he didn’t understand why she didn’t talk. When he asked her she didn’t explain it but growing up Peter had a feeling it had something to do with the voice scolding him to keep quiet as a kid. Maybe she was still listening to this man. Her father, according to her.

Go to sleep, already, idiot! She wrote to him in the middle of the night. Peter’s been talking to her for hours on end now and… yeah. It was probably really late, huh?

Sorry, my star. He thought happily and turned in his bed, facing the wall. He got used to this room. It was his. And May and Ben were the best Peter could ever ask for. That’s not to say he didn’t miss his parents, but he learned how to live again without them around. He learned to trust his family and friend (Ned), and he learned to love and appreciate his soulmate most of all. Goodnight.

He didn’t get a reply except for her annoyance and that made him chuckle quietly.

So you got spider-powers, the voice in Peter’s head said, sounding suspiciously like Captain America from his PSA’s. Take it from a guy who got bullied a lot as a kid – using your abilities to take revenge won’t make you happy. But if you use your powers to help… then you’ll use them responsibly.

It’s been going through Peter’s mind for days now. This speech. This feeling of failure. Of self-loathing. And it was all his fault, he knew it. He knew it when it happened and he knew it now, standing in front of the gravestone with his uncle’s name carved on it. My fault.

So you killed your uncle. You messed up. You know what you did was wrong. Now think about how it makes you feel. Figure out what the next right thing to do is and act on it. Don’t let his memory go to waste.

Shut up, Peter grumbled and concern filled him from his Star. He sighed and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to block the shame and hurt and pain. Trying to ground himself. He felt terrible. He felt horrible. It was all his fault. Why did he have to taunt Flash like that? Why did he have to ruin everything??

Not your fault, my flower. His soulmate whispered in his mind, trying to make him feel better. She’s been nothing but supportive ever since Ben died. She didn’t know the whole story, though. She didn’t know about the spider-powers. He couldn’t tell her yet. He knew it was his fault but he didn’t want her to believe it. HE didn’t want her to know how he messed up so terribly. Breathe.

And he did. Breathe in and out. In and out, until he felt like his whole purpose was to just take air in, let it swirl around in his body, and then let it out. In and out. In and out. It was his fault. He did this. He caused this. And he couldn’t even bring himself to tell May. He didn’t want her to look at him and see a murderer. He didn’t want her to not care about him anymore and that only made him feel worse. In and out. In and out. In and out.

The guilt was worst of all. Peter was crushed under it, limbs flailing miserably around and yet not able to actually do anything to help him. It was because he couldn’t tell the truth. It was because he brought this on his aunt and uncle. It was because of his Star. His soulmate who had to suffer through this along with him when they were just getting used to having their bond open again after he messed up and shut it down.

The pain that coursed through his body after that… it was unimaginable. He felt like he was dying. He felt sick. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but heave and twist and throw up. May tried to help him but nothing really stood a chance. The only cure was opening up their connection again and both Peter and Star were scared of that. But eventually she did let him into her head again and for two days everything was fine, until Ben died.

No. Murdered. Murdered by Peter.

Peter’s fault. Peter’s fault. My fault.

Not your fault. His Star repeated again, forcefully. She sounded angry, as if she just couldn’t stand it when Peter blamed himself for this. He didn’t mean to hurt her. He hurt everyone. He hurts people. Stop it!

So you made your soulmate mad. You messed up.

Oh, shut up, He sighed.

Swinging forward, Peter tried to ignore the pain coursing through his body. He was so tired and weak and he wanted to throw up again despite taking that pill May told him should help. He was feeling slightly better now, for some reason, but he was still very sick. And he couldn’t blame anyone else but himself.

He hated himself for not being able to choose his Star over Spider-man, but… but Spider-man was needed. He was important and more valuable than both Peter and his soulmate. Spider-man was a part of him he couldn’t let go because if he did then Ben was gone for nothing. But why did he have to choose in the first place?? He understood where Star came from. It was obvious she was horrified. He could die. He could leave her alone. He could just disappear from her life because of Spider-man. But he really hoped his Star would at least give it a chance. He got hurt, fine. It happens to the best out there. He got hurt at school on a daily basis and she never cared about that, did she? Well, she did, but not like that. She never ignored him for so long because he got punched in the face.

His nose crunched up when another surge of pain twisted his body and he almost missed the building he was aiming for with his web. Maybe he shouldn’t web-sling at his state… But he was feeling… different these last few days. A little bit better. Like the string that connected him to his Star was less tight. He found himself thinking about Bruce Banner again. He said maybe the connection wasn’t the same to both of the soulmates sometimes. Could it be possible that got his Star the pain was less powerful? Maybe that was why she had less of a problem blocking him out. But that was so depressing to think about… maybe he loved her and she didn’t feel the same? Maybe she only saw him as someone she could write, feel and think with. Maybe he was just this friendly stranger to her. Someone who could help her cheat during tough tests. Not that she needed it… she was super smart. Probably smarter than him.

When his phone started ringing Peter got it out of his pocket and put it up to his ear, swinging with one hand and hoping not to go splat against a window on his way. “Hey, Ned.”

“Dude! Where are you??? I’ve been standing here alone for, like, half an hour! Get over here already!”

Right… Peter was slightly behind after trying to stop a robbery in process. It would have been easier had he not been hurting like hell for weeks now. Looking down, he found the place where one of the thugs tore his suit with a knife. The scratch was so small and flat that it was already mended, but the pain it caused him was something Peter didn’t appreciate, especially while still aching.

Sending another web, he sighed. “Sorry. Been stuck in traffic. I’m almost there, though.” He assured his friend and a smile spread across his face at the thought of going to a place where he could walk in his Spider-man suit with his mask off without attracting any attention to himself. Ned was dressed as the Hulk, according to him, because the costume was on sale. Peter actually liked the idea of hanging around with his friend dressed like the man who’d helped Peter as a kid.

Hanging up, he landed on the roof of the building where the event was happening. There was a small emergency door close by that Peter opened easily and slipped inside. He smiled to himself at the sight of plenty of geeks dressed as their favorite heroes. The fact that there weren’t many Spider-mans (Spider-men?) around didn’t dampen his mood either. He just wanted to get down unnoticed and to get to Ned. He couldn’t wait to explore this place already.

So he crawled towards the wall, out of sight, and then dropped onto his feet. He counted on his spider-sense to alert him in case there was anyone around who shouldn’t see him take his mask on, but his sixth sense was quiet, so he was going to pull his mask off when someone tackled him to the floor.

For a few moments Peter couldn’t move, too confused and shocked to do anything but lie there on the cold floor. But then his brain started working again. He was supposed to know when things like this would happen. Why did he feel no warning? “Ugh… what the hell?” His hand came up to rub at his head where it hit the floor. The pain that’s been coursing through his entire body for ages now subsided a little more for some reason and Peter looked up only to freeze.

It was a girl. A girl, maybe around his age, with some kind of an awful costume that might have been a Spider-woman costume… but could also be Squirrel-girl just as easily. That was… so weird. His eyes went wide when she just stared at him. “Oh my Gosh, are you alright?” Did she have a concussion or something? Did she not see him? What the hell just happened? He came over to her and reached out to try and make sure there was no harm done to her head, but she flinched away, brown eyes behind the mask wide and terrified or concerned or… he couldn’t tell, really. “S-sorry.”

What was wrong with him? Since when did he try and get close to people he didn’t know? Sure, he wanted to make sure she was alright but… but there was also this thing… this pull in his gut trying to tell him to stay. To talk. To stay close. Closer. Closer.

Standing up he offered her his hand but she just kept on sitting there, blinking at him, before she sprinted up and right into his face. Her fingers brushed the place where his suit was torn after the robbery he just stopped and he found himself longing to stay right then and there with this random stranger right in his face, looking so worried even though she didn’t know him at all. He wanted to get away from her, but… but his body won’t listen.

He thought about Ned that was probably pacing right about now, tired of waiting for Peter. That made Peter snap out of it and, although it physically hurt him for some reason, took the girl’s hand and pushed it away from him. “Umm… okay. Completely normal. I actually have to go… you know… enjoy the event and all that stuff.” He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to go. His body ached only from the mere thought and was so sick of feeling that way.

Before he could change his mind, he lifted his leg to walk away, feeling like a strained string trying to pull himself over the limits. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to lie down, close his eyes and never have to feel anything ever again. He wanted some peace and quiet and NO PAIN. But she was looking at him. God, she was still looking at him and he had no idea why there was something so familiar about her.

“Do I know you?” He put his leg back down, too flustered to go away without getting an answer. He had to know what was going on. For a few moments she didn’t react and just stood there but then she held her hand out for him and he just took it, his body moving on instinct without his consent. He stared at her, willing her to explain things.

And then the pain disappeared. His mind cleared and his body relaxed. It was… it was amazing. He closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of finally feeling like himself again. Of being able to think without shoving the ache away. Without feeling like dying on the spot would be better than anything else. And then he opened his eyes and looked at the girl dressed as Spider-woman and it was just so obvious who it was that he didn’t hesitate before pulling her forward and hugging so tightly, he was afraid she’d have a fractured rib or two. But she hugged him right back, wrapping her arms around him and sinking slightly, as if it was all she could ever dream of.

His mind was buzzing. Thoughts swirling and dancing around, shoving and pushing to get to the front and Peter took a moment before he blocked them from reaching his Star’s mind. It was a mess. She didn’t need this right now. “You’re in New York. You’re…” He muttered, trailing off and feeling her face digging into his shoulder. A voice inside his head reminded him that she wasn’t going to talk to him. She wasn’t going to talk to anyone so he shouldn’t expect an actual answer. “What are you doing here? When did you get here? I…”

He what? He was ecstatic? He was enthusiastic? He was relieved? Glad? Feeling so much more alive with her in his arms, snuggling into him like he was soft pillow. He couldn’t really blame her, though.

Moved to Queens two days ago. Her voice echoed in his mind and he smiled into the scarf hiding her face. God, she smelled like Summer and daisies and basically everything good in the world. And she was probably working really hard to think loud enough for him to hear her.

Her emotions were a mess, honestly. Peter felt them with a smile because even though she felt bad and guilty, her happiness was intoxicating. And the familiarity in feeling her emotions as well was something he’s been missing for so long…

Laughing, he closed his eyes again. “So that’s why it felt so…” So much better. Like he was getting closer to something he didn’t have before. Getting closer to her. Like the pain was less consuming. Like he could breathe again. She nodded between his arms. “Wait, how’d you know I’d be here?”

Didn’t. Her voice sounded teasing. He loved it. Saw you on the ceiling. Idiot. She said it with so much fondness, Peter couldn’t help but feel like singing out loud or running to the end of the earth. He could. He seriously could now.

That was all that mattered, really. That she was there, with him. That they weren’t two separate souls anymore. They were connected once again and it felt… it felt amazing, honestly.

The capital city of Kiribati, Peter thought.

Tarawa. The answer appeared on his hand. He smiled at his Star’s handwriting and then nodded to himself, flipping to his next card. It was nice, honestly, studying to Decathlon with his soulmate who was just as smart, if not smarter, than him. Tomorrow I’m starting school again. My vacation is over.

He snorted. You don’t have to feel so sorry for yourself. You know, some of us have been back to school for over a month at this point. He heard her growling mind, as if she was upset with him. But her emotions were relaxed, soothed. She was calm and probably didn’t really care.

They’ve been talking nonstop since his Star reopened their bond. It felt like standing under the flow of cooling water under getting burned. It felt like relaxing for the first time in years and not fearing there’s someone over your shoulder. Peter felt good. He was finally not hurt or in pain or struggling to keep a cheerful front when his insides felt like dying.

He didn’t tell Star about it, though. He didn’t tell her about how painful it’s been to be kept away because he had a feeling that if she didn’t feel the same thing, she’d feel bad and would never throw him under the bus like that again only because of feelings of guilt. Now… he didn’t WANT to be unwanted by her again like that, no. But he didn’t want to make her feel bad about doing so, either. What if he crossed a line in the future? What then? She’d let him stay only because she didn’t want to hurt him again? He couldn’t do that to her. So he kept his mouth shut, his skin clear of this and his thoughts trained on other things. Like flashcards.

What kind of an animal is an Aye-Aye?

For a moment there was no reply, and then, A lemur. From Madagascar. She added the nae of the place like an afterthought and Peter smiled brightly. I’m going to Midtown, by the way.

And… he short circuited. He was sure of that, because how else could anyone explain the way he just dropped the flashcards and stared at his desk with unblinking eyes, repeating those words in his head over and over again until their meaning was lost on him.

Midtown? She was going to go to school at Midtown? That was HIS school. That was… that was AMAZING. That was beyond amazing, probably. He couldn’t control it, the feelings just flowed out of him all the way to his Star and he received back mostly confusion from her. Right, he was being weird. But how could he not?? That was… that was awesome! She was going to his school. She was going to arrive and he just knew he’d recognize her because she’s going to be the only new student in their class. God, he wanted this day to end already. Tomorrow sounded way better.

And to think he’s been thinking over and over again about the incident in Washington with his Decathlon team when he should have been excited over THIS. Why didn’t he ask her earlier which school she was going to transfer to? Honestly, that should have been his first question after knowing she moved to New York.

My flower? Are you okay? What is it?

He smiled so wide, it almost hurt his cheeks, but he didn’t think he could stop if he wanted. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.

His Star’s mind buzzed at that with thoughts she could only barely deliver to him with her concentration gone. He eyed the flashcards but decided to let it go. They had more important things to talk about, honestly.

“I’m so sorry!” Peter opened the door and looked at Ms. Warren, feeling his cheeks flush with the whole class staring at him. His teacher eyed him, unimpressed. “I was just…” He was held back because there was an attempted robbery on his way that Spider-man had to stop and they had guns. He was really lucky no one, including him, got hurt. But it did make him arrive late to class, and he kind of felt bad about it under the disapproving look in one of his favorite teachers’ eyes.

Ms. Warren was honestly smart and kind and nice. He didn’t like not showing up to her classes because she thought highly of him, even if she noticed he was distracted some of the time. And now he was late again and he couldn’t even explain why. He couldn’t tell the truth, anyway.

Sometimes Ms. Warren actually made him feel like she knew without him telling her. She commented about Spider-man a couple of times when he was close by and the way she looked at him after those comments… yeah, it made him feel exposed. But now… now he was still in need of a good enough excuse to give her.

She crossed her arms. “What was it this time? The dog ate your shoes? You missed the subway? Your alarm clock didn’t go off?”

Chuckling awkwardly, Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “No, I…” He didn’t even have a dog. He was pretty sure Ms. Warren knew that when he gave her that excuse. “It’s…” He looked into her eyes and decided to just go for it. “There’s been this robbery and I got caught up in traffic since the police blocked the area.” He didn’t know if it was true but the harsh lines on Ms. Warren’s face softened and he could clearly tell she knew. SHE KNEW.

Sighing, she waved her hand dismissively. “Just sit down, Peter.”

And he did. He skidded towards his seat and then slumped down and turned to Ned who eyes him, eyes huge. “Dude, what really happened?”

He leaned a little closer to his friend. “Well, I stopped the robbery.” He said, as if it was a dumb question. Come on, wasn’t it? He watched as Ned’s face turned from worry to understanding. Then it melted to an awe that always came up when Spider-man was involved. Seriously, having his best friend know he was Spider-man was… weird.

But the support he received from Ned was great. When people looked down at Spider-man or his actions, when Mr. Stark ignored him and then scolded him, Ned was there to ground him. To make him remember what he did was actually good.

“You’re not hurt, right?” Ned whispered.

“They had guns.” Peter smirked but then shook his head at Ned’s alarmed expression. “I webbed them away the moment I could, though.”

The way Ned’s eyes sparkled was amazing, sometimes. “Sick.”

And then he leaned back and looked at Ms. Warren, his attention on her words. Peter looked at him for a moment longer before perking up and scanning the classroom. Someone new. He had to find a girl who wasn’t usually in this class with them. Someone…

Someone like the girl staring at his back from the seat behind him, looking slightly worried, like she didn’t know what he’d think of her. And for a moment he just froze, his eyes taking in every detail he could manage to spot from his place before the hugest grin took over his face.

That was his soulmate, with her dark, messy curls and wise eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights. And the smile she gave him in return was hesitant, but honest and so, so much better than any thought, scribble or a feeling she could have thrown his way.

When he turned around to write to her, he could still feel her eyes on his back, studying him slowly. She was there. She was really there. His soulmate was in the same room he was, with no mask on and no stupid costume to hide her actual style. It was really his Star, watching him and smiling and writing back to him like she always does.

“Mr. Parker. You with us?” He lifted his gaze to Ms. Warren in the middle of the lesson, still smiling wildly.

“No other place I’d rather be.” He replied easily and ignored the strange glint in her eyes and Ned’s suspicious look. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder at the bright-eyed girl rolling her eyes at him with her lips pursed. He was definitely in love with her.