Work Text:
Peter does not believe in ghosts.
It’s impossible for ghosts to exist in their reality. While aliens and radioactive spiders do exist, ghosts do not. It’s been proven by multiple scientists (even Mr Stark wrote a book mocking parapsychology) that energy cannot re-manifest into a terrestrial spiritual being. Flowers and herbs linked to the underworld? Poisonous. Transparent beings walking around old homes? Gas fumes.
So, long story short, ghosts do not exist.
And that is how Peter found himself in front of a two-century-old cabin, MJ and Ned by his side. Peter does not believe in ghosts. He is also not against ghost hunting if it means he can spend a little bit more normal teenager time with his friends.
MJ said that she doesn’t fully believe in ghosts herself, but also said that the possibility is there. Ned, on the other hand, said that he once saw his nana’s dead cat floating around his room one night.
(Peter doesn’t know what to think about that.)
So, they’re here on 67th Elmore, in front of what is to be considered in the neighborhood the most haunted house in the world. Peter doesn’t really think that’s true, but when they had spoken to the neighbors a bit ago, they had said that the last owner in there died ‘mysteriously’.
Peter does not believe in ghosts.
MJ walks up to the door, and before she tries and jiggles the doorknob, she bends down, lifting up the WELCOME HOME mat. Right underneath, layered with dirt and grim, is a small copper key. There’s a tiny engraving on it, but MJ grabs it before Peter can read it any further.
She pushes it into the rusty lock, turning to the left, stuck, and then to the right. All Peter hears is a quiet ‘click’. They stand there, still, for a moment.
“So? Are we going to go in or what?” MJ asks, raising an eyebrow. Her eyes slide to Peter. “You’re not chickening out, are you?”
Peter feels a bubble erupt in his chest. He looks at the still unopened door. “No,” he says, “Let’s go in and Ghostbuster this place.”
Ned knocks his shoulder into Peter’s, a nervous grin lighting up his face. MJ goes to open the door, and it emits an eerie creak, showcasing the web-covered and dust-ridden interior. Ned blinks.
“If I die here tell my nana that I love her,” Ned mumbles, grimacing.
MJ rolls her eyes, grasping Ned’s wrist to pull him with her into the house. “You’re not going to die, Ned.”
“You don’t know that!”
Peter follows in quickly after them, not bothering to shut the door. He knows ghosts don’t exist, except the intermittent creaking of stairs and floorboards really does the job of making him worry. What does he have to worry about, though? He’s Spider-Man. He could totally take a ghost. Probably.
He looks around the stairway entrance, eyes sliding toward MJ and Ned, who talks to the latter about the intricacies of breaking and entering haunted homes. She turns to him swiftly, hand gripping the EMF reader already. She raises an expectant eyebrow at him.
Peter nods, taking out the spirit box from his pocket. He messes around with the buttons for a moment before getting on the right frequency, finger pushing up to raise the statics volume.
“Are we sure the ghost knows how to communicate via spirit box?” Peter asks, looking up at MJ.
She gives him her best deadpan look. “Yes.”
“Right.” he nods, drawing out the word. Peter clears his throat. “How are we in temperature readings?”
Ned hums, sat down on the old staircase. He flips a few switches on the thermometer before raising it high, eyes squinting at the light-up LED screen. He raises his eyebrows. “I’m not getting anything too bad.” He looks to MJ and Peter. “Should we move?”
MJ sucks her cheek in. “The kitchen.”
Ned stands from the dusty steps, gripping the thermometer as he walks quickly to the kitchen, or, at least, where he assumed it to be. MJ is after him, and when Peter doesn’t move from where he is, looking down at the spirit box, does she raise her hand and beckon him to follow her.
He blinks, looking up. She stares at him for a moment, eyes narrowing with some type of unseen emotion. “Is something up?” MJ asks, voice almost as quiet as a whisper.
It carries to Peter’s ears. He frowns. “Everything’s fine,” he says, taking a few steps forward, almost going past her. “Just tired.”
MJ doesn’t follow him for a minute, just staring, silently, at his retreating back.
The kitchen smells like moldy plates and wet dogs, and when Peter glances into the sink, he finds leftover dishes scattered around the drain. The dining table remains with set plates and napkins, spring themed. A wick is left, burnt to a crisp with wax melting around it and smoothing onto the green tablecloth. One set of utensils is messed up, a shattered cup littering the floor underneath.
Peter stares at the scene with some sort of familiarity. He ignores the feeling, turning to Ned as he jiggles the thermometer’s controls. He frowns.
“We’ve got a temperature reading of twenty,” Ned says, peering down at the screen.
MJ passes them both, lifting herself up to the marbled counter. She looks down at the EMF. “I’m not seeing anything here. Still one.” She turns the device over in her hand, narrowing her eyes in the same way she had to him before. Peter looks away. “Try the spirit box.”
Peter swallows, pressing the audio button on the pad. He clears his throat again, static filling his ears. “Uhm, hey, Mr Ghost,” he says, pretending not to notice MJ’s stare, “I’m Peter Parker and these are my friends, MJ and Ned. We just wanted to say hi.” He looks up at Ned, who mouths something to him. “Also, we come in peace. We don’t mean any harm.”
MJ nods, looking back down at the EMF screen. Her face glows with neon red, meaning— “Still one,” she quietly says. Ned glances at her for a split moment.
Peter purses his lips as no other answer comes. He raises an eyebrow at Ned. “Another room?” he asks.
“I’ll get to the living room,” Ned says sagely, picking up his bag. He starts to walk from MJ and Peter. “Let me scope out the temp before anything.”
Peter hums, lowering the volume of the spirit box. He pockets it, going to follow his friend, when MJ pats the counter next to her. He turns, confusion written across his face.
“Sit with me,” she says, patting the spot again.
Peter glances back at the open doors. “But Ned—”
“—Can wait a second, Peter.” MJ looks down at the EMF again before placing it to the side. She stares at him expectantly.
He looks to the door, and then to her, and he decides it’ll just be a minute or two. Peter steps over a turned over chair and shards of glass, he turns himself over and sits on the cracked marble counter next to her. MJ brings her knees to her chest, her muddy sneakers smearing onto the table.
She glances at him, her face no longer blinded by the red LED lights. Peter realizes that she looks more tired like this, in the dark. “There’s something up with you,” she says, knocking her shoulder lightly into his.
Peter frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” MJ shrugs. “You’re different today. It’s not the ghosts, is it?”
“Ghosts aren’t real,” he mutters.
MJ scoffs, folding her legs together. “If ghosts aren’t real, then why are you here?”
Why is Peter here? Ned had heard about this place days ago, and while Peter doesn’t believe in ghosts, and while he’d much rather be at the lab or something similar right now, he knew. He knew that joining Ned and MJ was another time for them to get closer, because Peter isn’t with them all time, he doesn’t show up to classes early anymore, he doesn’t call Ned to ask him to save him a spot at the cafeteria now. He doesn’t show up.
Peter’s ghost hunting with them because he is the ghost. He’s the ghost and he doesn’t know what to do.
He just wanted—
“I just wanted a normal day with you guys,” he whispered, looking away.
MJ blinks at him, eyes owlishly wide. She furrows her eyebrows. “I don’t think ghost hunting is normal.”
“I know that,” he shoots back, lightly covering his red ears with his hands. “I just…I wanted to feel normal for once. I wanted to feel like a normal teenager. Normal teenagers do shit like this, you know? Peter Parker…doesn’t.” He brings his hands to his mouth, covering it as if to stop him from speaking anymore. He can’t see MJ’s face.
He can hear MJ’s heartbeat: slow and calm. “Well, Peter Parker is a huge nerd, yeah, but that doesn’t mean he’s not normal,” she says, and Peter’s eyes slide to hers. “You’re not a monster, or whatever you think.”
It shocks him for a moment, because MJ doesn’t know about Spider-Man—and maybe that’s why it makes him ease, maybe it’s because she doesn’t know about Spider-Man that what she says hits him deep.
Peter opens his mouth, to say anything, maybe even his secret, and yet MJ beats him to it. She jumps off of the counter. “Let’s go get popsicles. I’m kind of bored of this ghost hunting stuff.” She looks back at him, raising an eyebrow as he continues to stare at her without blinking. “Are you coming or what?”
She holds out her hand. Peter takes it.
Peter Parker does not believe in ghosts. He does, though, believe in friendship that lasts forever.