Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peter has been feeling pretty dead on his feet these past few weeks, if he was being honest with himself. Between running the newly resurrected EMF from his garage and easing back into his Spider-Man duties, he had precious little time for himself. He still made time for MJ and Miles, of course, and he had established some easy, no-stakes routines to keep himself sane, but man, was he running on fumes.

Despite all of this, however, he was feeling more fulfilled than he had in a long time. EMF was starting to see some success, his relationship with MJ was stronger than ever, and he couldn’t be prouder of the person that Miles was becoming. Hell, he’s 10 times the hero Peter was at that age, he thought. Balance be damned - if this is how his life was shaping up, maybe being sleep-deprived 110% percent of the time wasn’t so bad after all.
…
Peter woke with a start at the feeling of a gentle, familiar hand landing on his shoulder.

“Morning, Tiger.” MJ said, traces of sleep still evident in her voice as she pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head. “Have you been here all night? You’re going to ruin your back if you keep falling asleep at your desk like that.”

Peter yawned and stretched his arms above his head, feeling his joints pop pleasantly with the movement. He then brought a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it, feeling stiff from however long he managed to doze off on top of his mountain of paperwork. Oops. Neck’s gonna be paying for that one for a while. He thought to himself a tad bitterly.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Peter said as he turned to face MJ, smiling widely. “Yeah, you’re right…I’m feeling it already.” He laughed softly. “So, what brings you to my humble lab this morning?”

MJ frowned a little, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the noticeable sag in his posture before quickly changing her expression to a soft smile. Peter didn’t seem to notice. He looked exhausted, but she didn’t want to press the issue. He’d been saying that he was on the verge of a breakthrough in his research over the past couple of weeks, and she knew better than to try to get him to slow down right now.

“It’s Tuesday. Your turn to do today’s coffee run!” she said brightly.

Peter’s brain took a moment to process the information before he replied with, “Oh! Yeah, sorry. I’ll get dressed.” he said, still smiling. “You want your usual?”
MJ nodded and Peter pressed a quick kiss to her lips as he got up and started heading into the house to get dressed.

These coffee runs were one of Peter’s favorite parts of the week. They gave him the chance to get away from his desk, clear his head, and enjoy the city for a little while. With Miles still taking on the majority of the Spider-Man duties, he usually found that he could truly relax unless something happened on his walk to the café. Peter could never bring himself to stay on the sidelines if he noticed someone in trouble nearby, even when he was fully committed to his break from being Spider-Man for a while.

Speaking of things happening directly in front of him: as he was standing at the crosswalk at the busy intersection across the street from the café, he noticed a woman staring intently at her phone. Without looking up, she took a few steps into the street – directly into the path of an oncoming car driving at full speed.

Peter immediately jumped into action, dashing forward and grabbing her arm to pull her back towards the sidewalk. The woman stumbled in his grip, falling backwards into him as he caught her in his arms.

“Woah! That was close. Are you okay, Miss?” Peter asked, genuine concern lacing his tone.
She turned around to face him; her face flushed a deep red color.

“Oh my god – I…I think you just saved my life. Thank you!” she said, sounding a bit out of breath. “I’m fine.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Peter said sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head. “But you should probably pay a bit more attention to your surroundings before you step onto a busy road like that. New Yorkers drivers do not care, they’ll turn you into a pancake without so much as batting an eye – trust me.” He cringed a little, thinking of all the times he has nearly become the Amazing Roadkill-Man.

The woman made a face at him Annoyed, maybe? Might have been a bit too “after school special” of you there, Parker… Peter chastised himself internally - before slowly looking him up and down and smiling.

“Yeah, you’re right, sorry…But I wouldn’t mind having you swoop in and save me again.” she said, giggling.

Peter blushed, suddenly feeling a bit awkward and laughing nervously as his eyes darted over to the walk light that had just turned on. “Well, um… light’s on now so it’s safe to walk. See you around and remember to keep your eyes on the road!” he said as he quickly crossed the street before giving the woman time to respond.

Yikes, you need to get out more. he thought to himself as he stood in line at the café, yawning as he ran a hand through his hair. That interaction did feel a bit…off, though. Or maybe it was the sleep deprivation talking. He could probably count on one hand how many hours of REM sleep he’d gotten over the past week.

His neurons were definitely not quite firing at full speed.

After ordering his and MJ’s coffees, he took out his phone while he waited at the pickup counter and sent a brief text to Miles to check in. Despite multiple reassurances from Peter, he’d been really anxious about hearing back from ESU after submitting his application. Peter could practically feel Miles’ frayed nerves himself.

I wonder if that’s a spider thing?...I hope not. I wouldn’t wish my anxiety on my worst enemy, let alone Miles. he thought to himself as he put his phone back into his pocket, eyes now on the counter as he saw the barista finishing up his order.

He dropped some change into the tip jar, smiling and thanking the barista as they slid his drinks across the counter to him. Taking a sip of his drink – a medium iced half-and-half latte with a shot of espresso and a dash of cinnamon - He wished he could order an IV filled with espresso. Man, that would really hit the spot right now., he sighed contentedly and headed towards the exit. He stopped as he suddenly heard his name.

“Peter! Fancy meeting you here!” said a slightly familiar voice.

Peter whirled around, his Spider-sense thrumming softly in the back of his head. That’s weird... he thought to himself as he scanned the room and saw no apparent danger. Must be on the fritz…I desperately need a nap…a week-long nap.

As his eyes landed on the source of the voice, he was surprised to see the woman from the crosswalk.

“Oh! Hi, um…” he trailed off. What was her name again?

There was a flash of something unreadable in her eyes before she smiled and said, “Annie! We met at the crosswalk.”

Peter felt a little uneasy but couldn’t really pinpoint why. Maybe his head was just buzzing because of the sudden flood of caffeine on an empty stomach? As if to confirm his thoughts, his stomach growled softly. It was probably just buzzing because of all the caffeine on an empty stomach.

“Right. Annie.” he said apologetically. “Sorry, I can’t believe I forgot your name already. Must need the caffeine more than I thought!” He joked, taking another sip of his drink.

“It’s okay!” she said, her eyes nearly boring a hole into his own. “I just want to thank you again. You… you’re awesome.”

Peter stared at her for a second before replying, his head buzzing again. Shut up, Spider-sense. “Oh, um, seriously – don’t mention it.” He said, smiling awkwardly.

She continued to wordlessly stare at him for a few more seconds as Peter uncomfortably shifted his weight, feeling like an arachnid under a microscope.

After it was clear that she was just going to…stare at him, he guessed? He cleared his throat and broke the silence. “Well, I need to head to work… Nice seeing you again, Annie. Remember to look both ways before crossing the street!”

The woman’s – Annie’s – smile faltered a bit before she finally spoke.

“Oh, I see. Have a good day at work, Peter. Hope to see you again soon!”

Peter bristled and quickly nodded as he brushed past her, nudging the door open with his shoulder. Once he was out of the café, he let out a long exhale - Was I holding my breath? - and started walking back home.

As he slowly nursed his latte, his thoughts kept drifting back to that woman – Annie. “I haven’t gotten that awkward around other people after my Spidey break, have I? No…that was definitely weird.” he muttered to himself, thinking about how uncomfortable both of those interactions were. Maybe he was just psyching himself out, though…

No, something was nagging at him, something he couldn't quite place. Back at the café…

After racking his brain and coming up short, he yawned and shrugged his shoulders. “Nah…it was probably nothing.”

Peter mentioned his interaction with Annie to MJ when he got back home and she didn’t seem to think anything of it. She had only elbowed in the rib playfully, calling him a “Ladies Man”. The two of them laughed and continued talking as they peacefully enjoyed their coffee before starting their work for the day.

Chapter Text

The rest of the week had passed by rather uneventfully. Miles had stopped by over the weekend and hung out with Peter as he did some more work for EMF during the day, and they went out on patrol together at night. There was still no news on Miles’ ESU application, but he seemed to stress about it a bit less after spending some time with his best friend and mentor.

Oddly enough, Peter had felt his Spider-sense buzzing periodically as he worked in the garage throughout the week, but ultimately paid no mind to it as he never noticed anything amiss on his own - and Miles’ sense didn’t seem to go off at all while they were there together.

Come Monday, Peter had felt worse than he had in a long time. His head spun a little as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. It only worsened as he stood up, bringing one hand to his throbbing head and placing the other on his headboard to steady himself as he was hit with a sudden wave of dizziness.

Yikes. He thought to himself. Must be a bit of a head rush from standing up too fast…

He glanced over at MJ and breathed a sigh of relief upon noticing that his movement hadn’t woken her up. The clock on the bedside table indicated that it was just after 4AM.

Peter quietly padded down the hall to the bathroom, frowning to himself slightly as he took in the ache that seemed to emanate from deep within his joints.

“I didn’t get knocked around that much on patrol last night.” he muttered to himself softly as he closed the bathroom door behind him. He swallowed, now also taking note of his very dry and stinging throat.

Oh. He knew what this was, and he did not have time for it. In fact, he was surprised he’d managed to get sick at all. He hadn’t been sick in years. Peter sighed to himself, annoyed, and scrubbed a hand over his face as he took in his appearance in the bathroom mirror.

He was pale, which made the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent than usual. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, and his cheeks were flushed. He also felt more tired than he had in what felt like forever.

Peter opened up the medicine cabinet, rummaging through it for some lozenges. Once he found the bag, he popped one into his mouth and headed downstairs. “Just gonna have to work through it, Pete. Just a few more days and I know I’ll hit that breakthrough.” he said aloud, wincing at how his voice sounded.

Not wanting to go back to bed, and knowing he had a long day ahead of him, Peter poured himself a bowl of cereal and ate more slowly than he had in a long time. He didn’t have much of an appetite, but wanted to at least get something into his system.

After finishing a bowl, he tiptoed back upstairs and into his and MJ’s shared bedroom, grabbing some clothes from his drawer to take into the shower. He hoped a cold shower would wake him up a little bit and maybe ease the aches that seemed to be settling deeper into his joints with each passing moment.

After his shower, Peter did feel marginally better, and that was good enough for him. MJ was still asleep when he’d finished getting dressed, so he quietly headed out to the garage to get back to work.
…
Peter quickly forgot about his condition as he lost himself in his work. Despite how utterly draining it could be at times, he couldn’t deny that he loved what he did. The foundation meant everything to him, and knowing that he was able to make a difference both in and out of the suit was one of the best feelings in the world.

It was about noon when MJ popped her head into the garage. “Hey, Pete! How long have you been out here? I just finished recording the newest episode of the podcast and was wondering if you could give it a listen before I upload it.”

Peter cleared his throat before rising to his feet to turn around and respond to her. He felt...not great, but no worse than it had earlier that day, he supposed.

“Hey MJ! That’s great - I’d love to!” he responded brightly as MJ eyed him quizzically. “And I dunno… I think I came in around 6? I could use the break.”

MJ quickly closed the distance between them and brought the back of a hand to rest softly against Peter’s forehead. It felt nice, and he leaned into the touch.

“You feeling alright, Pete?” Now that she was getting a good look at him, he looked really rough today. “You’re pretty warm and you sound…scratchy.”

Peter forced a smile as he casually waved her off. “What? Nah, I’m fine, MJ - promise. Just a little tired.”

She was frowning now and it was clear that she did not fully believe him. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone, Pete. I think you should take the rest of the day off. EMF will be okay if you step away for a day or two.”

Peter could see the concern etched across her features and could sense the pleading in her tone. “I…ah…” he started to protest, but thought better of it. MJ is pretty much always right. he thought to himself, smiling a little.

“Yeah. Okay, you’re right. Just give me a minute to finish up what I’m working on and I promise I’ll be right in, okay?”

MJ regarded him for a moment before she visibly sagged with relief, smiling softly. “Okay.” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “But if you’re not inside in ten minutes, I’ll come back out here and drag you in, got it?” she chided playfully.

“Aye-aye, captain!” Peter joked, raising his hand and saluting her. “Ten minutes, you got it. Love you, MJ.”

“Love you too, Pete.”

With that, MJ headed back into the house and Peter quickly got his project to a good stopping point. As he finished up, he felt his Spider-sense softly thrumming in the back of his head again.

“What is wrong with you? You’ve been acting up all week.” he mumbled with irritation. He didn’t even bother trying to investigate the source anymore because there was never anything there.

Peter left the garage, reaching up to tug the sliding door down. His Spider-sense went off again, a bit stronger this time, but he ignored it as he headed for the front door of his and MJ’s shared home. As he stepped inside to greet an expectant MJ and closed the door behind him, he could swear he heard the faint sound of something rustling from immediately outside of his front door.

Whatever. Probably just a rabbit or something. He thought to himself as he walked into the kitchen where a steaming mug of tea was waiting for him.

“I’m surprised you actually came in.” MJ said, turning around and grinning at him as she stood over the stove heating up some soup. “You must be feeling worse than you let on.”

Peter shrugged noncommittally as he picked up the mug from the table, taking a sip of it as he walked up behind MJ and wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her temple.

“Maybe… and it definitely doesn’t hurt that the most beautiful woman in the world is here to keep me company.” He said as she giggled softly.

“Very smooth, Tiger.” She said, turning around and kissing him. “Go settle down on the couch, I’ll bring you a bowl in a few minutes.”
Peter did as he was told, sipping his tea slowly as he stared lovingly at MJ. “Man, how did I manage to get so lucky? I don’t deserve you!” he said genuinely, laughing a little.

“Maybe Parker Luck isn’t always so bad after all, Pete.” MJ joked back, shrugging.
…
After Peter finished his soup, the two of them eventually settled on the couch together. He fell asleep with his head resting on MJ’s lap as she scrolled through her phone with one hand and softly raked her fingers through his hair with the other.

An abandoned movie, One that Peter chose immediately before dozing off, no less, played on the tv in the background while the two of them remained blissfully unaware of the figure that had been quietly peering in on them from the outside.

Chapter Text

The following morning, Peter groggily blinked himself awake as he took stock of how he was feeling. A little worse than yesterday, but still manageable. he mused to himself.

He glanced over at the other side of the bed, noting that MJ was already up. Slowly sitting up and looking at the clock, he frowned when he saw that it was already 10AM. “Guess I really needed the beauty sleep.” he joked to himself aloud as he got up to get ready for the day.

His head was pounding, seemingly filled with cotton, and he felt a shiver wrack his body as he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth, not bothering to look at his reflection as he was sure he wouldn’t be a fan of what he saw. Nothing wrong with maintaining a healthy level of cognitive dissonance!
He got dressed, opting for a thick pair of jeans and a pullover sweater with the ESU logo on it, and went downstairs to find MJ sitting at the table with her laptop. Upon hearing him walk in, she turned to look at him and a sympathetic smile quickly appeared on her face.

“Hey, Pete. Still not feeling so hot today?” she asked softly.

Peter’s body responded for him in the form of a loud sneeze and another shiver. Ick, the congestion is new. he thought to himself miserably, sniffling.
“Ugh. Not great, but I really do need to get back to work.” he replied, his voice a little gravelly. “Besides, it’s my turn to do the coffee run today!”

MJ’s frown deepened and she sighed heavily. “I don’t think that’s such a great idea. You look and sound worse. You sure you don’t want to take one more day to yourself?” she asked with genuine concern, already knowing what his answer would be.

“I really need to get back to work, even if it’s only for a few hours. Besides…I’ve worked through way worse. Both as a scientist and as Spider-Man.” he said, shrugging.

MJ opened her mouth to speak, but Peter held up a hand and kept going. “I’ll leave the suit and my web shooters at home, and I’ll swing by the pharmacy and pick up some cold meds along the way” he said quickly, trying to assuage his girlfriend’s growing concern.

She stared at him for a moment before relenting. Of course she was worried about Peter, but he was Spider-Man, after all. She knew he was more than capable of handling himself. She’s seen him fight through stab wounds and broken bones. He could definitely handle a coffee run and some light experimenting and research with a cold or whatever this was.

“Okay, sounds like a deal.” she responded, standing and pressing a quick kiss to Peter’s lips.

Peter wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her gently. “Want your usual?” he asked.

“Yep.” she responded as she started to settle back down at the table with her laptop. “See you in a bit, love you!”

“Love you too, MJ. I’ll be back in a few!” he replied as he turned around and headed out. His body felt like it was made out of lead, but he was determined to enjoy the walk nonetheless.
…
Peter made it to the cafe without incident, feeling grateful for the surprisingly quiet morning - though he could swear he felt like he was being watched.

As he left with his and MJ’s coffees in hand and started to head toward the pharmacy, he felt his Spider-sense go off. He was about to ignore it, but he heard a scream sound from nearby, spurring him into action.

Cursing under his breath, he placed the coffees down on the closest patio table and ran towards the direction of the scream. Suit or not, he knew he had to do something if someone was in danger nearby.

“Couldn’t just give me a few hours of peace, huh, universe? Rude.” he muttered to himself as he turned into an alleyway and found the source of the distress.

Shady alleyway? How cliche.

He stopped and took note of the situation. A man had a woman - Huh, she looks a little familiar… - pinned against a brick wall as he threatened her in a low voice. She was trembling as he kept the barrel of his gun pressed against her abdomen.

“Stop the sniveling and just give me your wallet, lady.” the man sneered at her, loudly enough for Peter to hear. He hadn’t seemed to have noticed him yet.

The woman, on the other hand, did see Peter, and her panicked eyes immediately darted over to him, pleading.

This is bad. Peter thought to himself. I can only do so much without blowing my cover without the suit… Before he could start to formulate a plan, the woman took a deep breath and shouted at him.

“Help! Please!” she screamed. The man followed her gaze and glowered at Peter, keeping his gun trained on the woman.

“Mind your own business, kid.” he growled.

“Shit.” Peter swore under his breath. Okay, okay, this is fine. I’ve dealt with a million thugs with guns before. Not as Peter Parker…but, there’s a first for everything! Of course he’d take a bullet for someone if it meant saving their life, and he had many times before, but man, getting shot would be really inconvenient right now.

Peter raised his hands, attempting to make himself appear as non-threatening as possible as he slowly inched toward them. “Hey man, I know times are tough right now, but isn’t this a bit overkill? I mean, I feel like it would be way easier to set up a lemonade stand if you’re that strapped for cash.” He winced a little at the sound of his own voice as it came out a bit raspy and strained.

The man bristled, obviously caught off guard and lowering his gun from the woman ever-so-slightly.

Good, this is good. Eyes on me, buddy. Peter thought as he continued slowly advancing.

When the man didn’t immediately respond, Peter spoke up again.

“Why don’t you just lower the gun and let her go? We can forget this ever happened, and we can talk strategy for that lemonade stand. You know, I did take a business management course in college so I’m basically an expert.”

The man’s face screwed up in annoyance as he fully turned away from the woman, now facing Peter and aiming the gun at him.

He sighed in relief as the woman quickly moved away from him, running to hide behind him.

Peter kept his hands raised and turned his head slightly to speak to her. “You should really get out of here, I got this.”

Do I got this? Eh, 50/50. I can probably talk him down. I hope I can talk him down. MJ’s gonna be pretty upset if I come home with a bullet wound… His rambling inner monologue was cut off as the man spoke up again, now slowly advancing toward Peter.

“Are you fucking nuts or something, kid? What the hell are you on about?”

Oh, he looks angry. Peter thought to himself dully.

“I, ah, well - it’s pretty rude to go around robbing people when you have dozens of other perfectly legal ways of scrounging up some quick cash. Lemonade stand idea not doing it for you? How about an MLM? You know, I’ve heard-” Peter quickly cut himself off as his Spider-sense suddenly screamed at him.

Before he could really react - not that he would have, he supposed, because normal people didn’t dodge bullets - the man quickly lowered his arm and fired off a shot straight into Peter’s right knee.

“God, shut up!” he screamed as Peter crumpled to the ground, hands flying to his knee as he bit off a scream.

Peter gritted his teeth, breathing through the pain as he watched the man start to panic and pace back and forth in front of him.

“Shit. Shit shit shit. Cops are gonna be here any minute with all of that noise…” he muttered to himself as his eyes darted around the alleyway.

Peter started to take a deep breath, but it caught halfway through and launched him into a coughing fit. Right, almost forgot I was also contending with whatever this mystery illness is. Why not add a gunshot wound to the mix? That’s always fun. he thought to himself as he rolled onto his hands and knees - well, knee - keeping his injured leg hovering slightly above the dirty pavement.

As he sat there for a moment, dazed and considering what he should do next, I might need a hand getting home. Maybe I should call MJ? Or Miles? No…he’s at school…, a voice shook him out of his thoughts.

“Oh my God! Peter! Are you okay?” the voice said, frantic.

Peter glanced up, his vision swimming a bit, and squinted in confusion. Huh? Who…

The person dropped to their knees in front of him as his brain finally started to process what he was seeing. It was the woman he just helped, who had apparently not strayed too far from the alleyway after he directed the mugger’s attention toward himself. Wait a second, that’s…

“Ngh…Annie? From the…the crosswalk, right? I…” he paused for a moment as his stomach lurched. He was starting to feel dizzy. Probably the blood loss. That’s…not great.

He realized she was still looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue speaking with wild eyes.

Oh, right. I was in the middle of a sentence. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Her expression became unreadable. “Am I okay? Are you crazy? You just got shot!” her face didn’t quite match her tone, though. Peter wasn’t really sure what to make of that, but then again, he couldn’t really focus on much of anything right now.

Peter laughed lightly in spite of this and glanced down at his injured leg, taking note of the steadily growing pool of blood. I should probably do something about that.

“What…this?” he said, slightly out of breath. Couldn’t have picked a worse time to have a blocked nose. “This…it’s just a normal Tuesday morning.”

She looked at him with indignance. “What? I know your Tuesday mornings are never like this!”

A look of confusion spread across his face as he tried to process what she had just said. However, his head was pounding and it was starting to feel like all of his thoughts had to fight their way through a thick pool of molasses before fully developing, so he abandoned the notion of formulating a response in favor of feeling around his pockets for his phone.

Black spots started to dance around his vision as he found his phone and slowly pulled it out of his pocket. As he started to type in his passcode to unlock the phone, he heard Annie mumble something that he couldn’t quite pick up on as she glanced over Peter’s shoulder.

As he finished unlocking the phone and started navigating toward MJ’s contact to call her, his Spider-sense blared again. Perfect. What now?

He turned his head to see what was happening behind him and saw that the man from before was standing over him. Oh, oops - guess I thought he left already…

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get any words out, the man quickly brought the butt of his gun down onto Peter’s temple, hard.

He collapsed back onto the ground, vision flashing white as he landed on his injured side. Peter blinked a few times in an attempt to clear his vision, distantly registering that he had dropped his phone as he started to lose consciousness. Aw man, MJ is gonna be so bummed that she didn’t get her coffee this morning…

His eyes flitted upward as worry panged in his stomach and he wondered what was going to happen to Annie. He hoped she’d actually run away this time.

As they landed on her, he noticed two things. One: She was now standing up and seemingly still unharmed. Maybe the guy had just wanted to get one last hit in on Peter before running away? Understandable, he supposed. He was trying his best to get on his nerves. And, Two: She was now talking to the mugger and…smiling?

Before he could even attempt to process the scene now unfolding in front of him, his vision went black as unconsciousness fully took over.

Chapter Text

Annie was, by her own definition, a pretty ordinary woman. She grew up in Staten island with two busy working parents, no siblings, and a dog. Her family was upper middle class so she was never without necessities, but was never rich either.

However, she always found her life to be so painfully dull. There was never much excitement in her day-to-day life and she’d always found that she had a hard time making friends, so she was lonely, too. The other kids had always found her off-putting and when she had eventually managed to find a friend in middle school, they told her she was “obsessive” and eventually cut her loose. As such, she spent a lot of time at home alone on her computer.

She started off playing games, but eventually grew tired of them and began learning how to code. By the time she reached her teens, she had gotten surprisingly good at it. Annie dabbled in programming, but found that what she really enjoyed was hacking.

As she progressed from her teens to her early adult years, she found herself going to college for a Computer Science degree. After graduating, she moved out on her own and worked as a software engineer for a local tech company. The pay was decent, good, even, but she still felt like she needed more.

So, by day she was a software engineer and by night, she was a hacker. Annie would take on clients and get them anything they wanted for the right price. Was it ethical? Nah. But was it fun? Hell yes. She’d worked for a wide variety of clients ranging anywhere from petty criminals to the likes of the Kingpin himself.

In fact Annie had a pretty good, consistent working relationship with Fisk up until Spider-Man had him arrested. While she personally couldn’t care less about the man, she found herself seething over the loss of income. After so long on Fisk’s payroll, she’d found that she’d grown accustomed to a somewhat exorbitant standard of living that she quickly had to give up after losing her most high-paying client.

The subsequent downgrade from a high-end penthouse to a modest condo left her bitter, and the loss of the source of her best jobs left her bored. With nothing better to do with her time, she decided to direct her energy and resources to learning everything she could about Spider-Man. Since he’d messed with her life, it was only fair that she’d mess with his back.

She’d started by pulling up all of the information she could find on him online. News articles, photos, videos, social media posts, police reports, etc. Frustratingly enough, Spider-Man was really good at covering his tracks.

Her next plan of action was to determine where he was the most active. If she could narrow down some Spidey hotspots, she could start checking local surveillance footage. Her search became a bit more complicated as a second, seemingly younger Spider-Man eventually came onto the scene - but that didn’t deter her efforts.

She noticed that the newer younger Spider-Man tended to cover the Brooklyn area while the older one was often around the Manhattan area. They did work together quite frequently, however, which made it a bit more difficult to quickly gather accurate information about the older one online. With time, however, she found that Spider-Man seemed to be frequently spotted coming out of the Astoria district.

After what felt like an endless stretch of time with no progress, Annie noted the older Spider-Man seemed to work with a lot of gadgets - did he make them himself? - , so he was probably tech savvy enough to have been able to keep any traces of his identity safe from prying eyes online. That meant it was time to start doing this the old-fashioned way.

She had gathered enough information about him over the past year or so to know where he primarily operated out of, had a rough idea of where he lived, and knew what crimes he typically responded to. If she kept an eye out, it would surely only be a matter of time before she caught him in-person sans mask whether it was a rooftop, an alleyway, or close to home.

She’d kept a careful eye on Spider-Man for a few months before conceding with exasperation that she probably wasn’t going to be able to catch him taking his mask off by chance. Going back to the drawing board, she ultimately decided that she’d need to make direct contact with him somehow and subtly get a GPS tracker onto him.

Annie was confident that one of her clients from her side job would be able to get her a tracker, but how would she be able to make that contact with Spider-Man? As luck would have it, she ultimately didn’t have to orchestrate a plan.

After learning that Spider-Man likely lived somewhere in the Astoria district, she started frequenting the area to keep tabs on him. One afternoon, she had stopped in a nearby corner store to buy a pack of cigarettes when two men in awful, cheap looking ski masks stormed in with guns.

True to form, one of them pointed a gun at the cashier and demanded that he open the register while the other pointed his gun at the few customers in the store and screamed at them to give him their wallets. As Annie was fishing her wallet out of her purse and cursing the inconvenient intrusion, she suddenly heard a familiar voice sound out from nearby. No way, this is perfect!

“Hey, I like Slushees as much as the next guy, but you’re going to have to wait your turn just like everyone else!” Spider-Man quipped as he quickly shot out two webs, one at each robber, and immediately yanked the guns out of their hands. The two men both stood there in stunned silence for a moment before one charged him, and the other pulled a knife out of his pocket and pointed it at Annie.

Spider-Man easily dodged the man that charged him, webbing him to the floor and wagging a finger at him while tutting in disapproval. “I would have let you cut in front of me if you just asked nicely.”

He then turned around locked eyes with the other man, who had run behind Annie to wrap an arm around her shoulders and position his knife in front of her throat.

Spider-Man raised his hands non-threateningly and slowly approached them.

“Easy now. You have to know this won’t end well for you, right?” He asked, tilting his head to the side as he looked between Annie and the robber.

“Shut up!” The man sneered at him. “Back off or I’ll gut her like a fish.”

Spider-Man kept his hands raised and halted his approach. “Gut her like a fish?! Dude, where did you get that line from? Criminalizing for Dummies? One too many watches of old time-y gangster movies, perhaps?”

In a series of lightning-fast movements, he once again shot out two webs - one connecting with the knife and yanking it out of the man’s hand, and the other connecting with the man’s face and pulling him forward to face plant onto the floor. Spider-Man then shot out a few more webs to secure the dazed wannabe gangster to the floor before approaching Annie and briefly looking her up and down.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” He asked sincerely.

Annie gaped at him as she was almost in disbelief over this incredible chance encounter. Thinking fast, she started to feign some nervous sputtering as she subtly worked on slipping her tracker out of her sweater pocket. “I-I-I was so scared, Spider-Man! He c-could have killed me!” She said, willing tears to well up in her eyes.

Before Spider-Man could respond, she threw her arms around him and faked a sob to the best of her ability. He stiffened before awkwardly patting her on the shoulder and pulling away a couple of seconds later. Thankfully, that was all the time she needed to stick the tracker onto the back of his suit. He didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m glad I got here when I did. Are you okay, though? Did they hurt you?” He asked.

Annie scrubbed an arm across her face to wipe away her non-existent tears before straightening up. “I- I’m fine, Spider-Man, thank you. I think I just need to get out of here.”

“That’s understandable. Take care of yourself and get home safe.” He said before turning to check on the other customers in the store before the police arrived.

Annie heard the sound of sirens approaching from nearby and took this time to quietly slip out of the store before the police came in. She didn’t want to deal with their questioning and needed to get home and to her computer as soon as possible.
…
The cool thing about the tracker she’d obtained was that it was insanely high tech and nearly impossible to detect. It was roughly the size of a button battery and designed to instantaneously camouflage against whatever it was adhered to. It was also designed to shrivel up and fall off of whatever surface it was attached to after roughly 24 hours.

Annie was initially paranoid that Spider-Man might find and remove the tracker, or that it would fall off on its own before he made it back to his home. However, luck was on her side once more as she found that around 12:30 AM, the tracker finally stopped moving and proceeded to remain firmly rooted in the same location for the rest of the night.

Once she was confident that Spider-Man was in his own home, she pulled the address. 15 Amfan Avenue in Forest Hills, Queens. She was giddy with excitement. Gotcha!

A quick property record search determined that the home belonged to a young man named Peter Parker. “And we have our Spider-Man!” she said aloud to her empty condo.

Now that she had a name, she quickly got to work learning everything that she could about him. Former photographer for the Daily Bugle, Bachelor’s of Science in Biophysics from ESU, former assistant to Dr. Otto Octavius, nephew of the late May Parker - operations manager at F.E.A.S.T. before her death during the Devil’s Breath crisis, no known living relatives…
…
Over the next few months, Annie had taken to watching Peter Parker’s every move. She learned of his girlfriend, Mary Jane Watson of the Daily Bugle, and a teenager from Brooklyn Visions - Miles Morales. They visited him frequently, but he definitely appeared to live alone.

As time passed, she grew a bit enamored with watching Peter and learning his routines and habits. He was kind of cute, too, if she was being honest with herself… He never seemed to notice her watching him, but she, of course, always kept her distance.

Eventually, the symbiote debacle took over New York and, afterward, Annie noticed that Peter stopped being Spider-Man for a while. His girlfriend moved in and he spent a lot of time working in his garage-turned-lab. She continued to watch him and re-learn his routines as they changed once he was living with Mary Jane. She needed to stay on top of things for when she finally decided to act.
…
Several more months passed, and Annie noticed that Peter was slowly starting to get back into his old Spider-Man duties again. She’d cursed herself for not taking the prime opportunity that she’d been given while he was inactive, but she could tell that he had gotten a bit rusty and figured she could use that to her advantage.

So, she started planning. She reached out to her contacts and started stockpiling materials. Drugs, weapons, restraints, whatever she could find to be able to subdue and contain a super-powered individual.

Within a few weeks, she’d also managed to…obtain…an abandoned piece of property outside of the city under a fake name and for a cheap price. Obviously she couldn’t keep Spider-Man in her condo.
…
As she prepared for her staged encounter with Peter on one of his usual Tuesday morning coffee runs, she worried that he might recognize her from that time he’d saved her from those thugs at the store a few months ago as Spider-Man. It was unlikely, sure, but she didn’t want to take any chances. To be on the safe side, she cut and dyed her hair and developed an extensive new makeup routine.

She was admittedly a bit flustered during their encounter, but was more so thrilled that everything had gone according to plan. They had made contact and he didn’t recognize her. Annie felt ready and excited to move onto the next phase.
…
As Annie continued to watch him over the next week, she noticed that he seemed to be a bit...on edge? In fact, he’d almost caught her watching him a few times. No matter, of course, as she’d be ready and willing to have his full attention soon.
…
Fast forward to their latest encounter, and it had gone off without a hitch. Peter was exactly where she’d expected him to be, and he responded exactly as she’d hoped he would.

The “mugger” was a petty criminal she’d found on the dark web and hired to stage their scene. She wasn’t expecting the idiot to forget to put the silencer on his pistol and freak out after shooting Peter, but she was thankfully able to snap him out of it long enough for him to load Peter into her trunk and accept his payment before sprinting away.

Annie hastily secured Peter’s wrists and ankles with her superhero-strength restraints that she’d obtained just for him from her contacts a few weeks back before slamming it closed and speeding out of the city.

This was the best day of her life, and things were only looking up from here.

Chapter Text

MJ rolled her shoulders, which were now feeling pretty stiff after sitting hunched over in front of her laptop for…two hours?

“Oof, really lost track of time there.” she mumbled to herself before realization struck.

“Pete?” she called out. It wasn’t unlike her to become so hyper-fixated on her work that she tuned out the world around her. He could have quietly slipped back into the house without her noticing.

After a few beats of silence, she tried again. “Pete? You home?”

Nothing

Maybe he came home and went straight to his lab? He did seem like he was kind of on auto-pilot this morning. she thought to herself.
After one unsuccessful trip to the garage and a lap around the house, MJ firmly concluded that Peter never came home after his coffee run.

Now, naturally she was a bit worried because he’s been noticeably worn down for a while now. On the other hand, she always had to remind herself that he is Spider-Man, and he can bench press a city bus.

To ease the slight twinge of nervousness that she felt bubbling up in her chest, MJ fired off a quick, playful text to Peter.

“Hey, Tiger. Get lost on your way home? 🕷️”

She pocketed her phone and walked back into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee before getting back to work. Peter would probably be home soon…
…

Consciousness greeted Peter in the form of a pounding headache. He swallowed thickly as a sudden wave of nausea roiled angrily in his stomach.

He could tell that he was lying down, but couldn’t quite remember getting into bed. Between the headache, the memory gap, and the nausea, he supposed he could have a concussion.

When and how would I have gotten a concussion, though? Last I checked, I was… what was I doing, again?

Peter allowed himself to slowly open his eyes, but immediately noticed the room was completely dark. Did I buy black out curtains before I got conked on the head? he mused to himself.

As he slowly moved to sit up, he quickly became acutely aware of three things.

One: A blinding, white-hot pain bursting from his right knee.

Two: A weird heaviness in all of his limbs.

Three: A...rattling noise when he moved?

“What the…” he muttered, voice raspy from both disuse and pain as his heart rate began to accelerate.

Peter quickly blinked a few more times as he tried to adjust to the near-nonexistent lighting in the room. It helped a little, as he was at least able to determine one thing:

This isn’t my house.

Ignoring his body’s protests, he clambered out of the bed. He only made it about five shaky steps away before he felt resistance.

His heart rate accelerated even more as he tried to move forward and found that he wasn’t budging.

“What is this?” he said aloud, allowing himself to panic a little.

“Hello? Room service? HE-” he was cut off as another coughing fit worked its way through his body.

Once it passed, he found himself slumping to the floor as he was overcome by a rush of dizziness.

All of his aches and pains started coming back to him as his adrenaline began to dissipate.

Peter curled in on himself slightly as he once again began wracking his brain in a desperate attempt to remember what the hell happened to him and where exactly he was.

His brain felt like it was actively fighting against him, punishing him with throbbing pain whenever he thought a little too hard.

All of a sudden, he heard footsteps approaching from nearby. The hair on his arms raised and goosebumps prickled over his entire body as his spider-sense screamed at him.

He tensed, ready for a fight.

Peter heard the jingling of a doorknob and before being met with a new flood of light into the room. He squeezed his eyes shut, scrubbing a hand over his face as the person spoke.

“Peter? What are you doing on the floor? You poor thing - your leg is bleeding again.” sounded a woman’s voice. She sounded…concerned?

Huh? Peter was having a hard time processing any of this. Surely if this person had kidnapped him, they wouldn’t be fussing over him right now. But then again, his spider-sense was on fire.

He slowly peeled his eyes open, startling as he realized that the woman was now crouched down a few inches in front of him.

She reached out a hand and gently cupped the side of his face, looking directly into his eyes with her own piercing, wide ones. Her hands were ice-cold and her gaze sent a chill up his spine.

After an uncomfortable few seconds, one part of this horrible puzzle clicked into place.

“Annie?” Peter asked, recoiling at her touch. “Where…are we?” He remembered the woman from the coffee shop, but still couldn’t place how they got here… Were they together before…whatever this is…happened?

Something strange flickered in her eyes.

“Safe, Peter. We’re somewhere safe.”

Her tone was sickly sweet and every muscle in his body was screaming at him to run.

His gaze slowly dropped as he began to take stock of himself. His jeans were roughly cut off at the midpoint of the thigh on his right leg, and a wet, blood-soaked bandage was sloppily wrapped around his knee.

Looking further down, there were thick metal cuffs wrapped around each of his ankles. Each cuff was connected to an equally thick chain that had to be no more than 6 feet long or so. Each chain was firmly anchored to the floor.

As his eyes drifted slightly upward, he noticed that this was the same for both of his wrists as well.

Turning his head, he noticed that these chains appeared to be locked down the floor on either side of the bed, the spacing equidistant among the four of them.

His movement wasn’t entirely restricted, but he couldn’t move very far from the bed on either side.

Annie noticed the wheels turning in his head and frowned slightly.

“What’s the matter? Do you need me to help you back into bed?”

This seemed to snap Peter out of his thoughts and their eyes met once more.

“Um, no…I’m okay…But, I’ll ask this again: where are we?” His voice was firmer now.

Her hand found its way to the back of his head and tightly gripped a fistful of Peter’s hair. She spoke through clenched teeth.

“So ungrateful. I already told you, you’re safe, Peter. With me. I’m going to take really good care of you, I promise.”

Peter grimaced. “Thank you for the resounding non-answer. But, ah, you see - I’m self-employed and unfortunately don’t receive health insurance through my benefits package, so I’m afraid I can’t pay you for your services. So if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to just go home and sleep this off.” He said, never taking his eyes off of her as he slowly moved to stand up.

She rose with him and untangled her hand from his hair, regarding him with an unreadable expression.

Peter gestured with his shackled wrists. “Can’t get very far with these, so if you could point me to the nearest set of keys, I’ll just pop these off and be on my way.”

He felt unsteady on his feet as he waited for her to respond. He was bone-tired, concussed, and in pain and needed to get out of this situation as quickly as possible.

A few moments of silence passed before a smile crept across Annie’s face.

At that, the memories from their last encounter hit him like a freight train. The mugger, the shooting, the smile…

Were they working together? Where’s the other guy?

Before he could formulate his swirling thoughts into a coherent sentence, he noticed Annie reaching into the pocket of her coat. Her hand casually slid back out, producing a long, black stick with two prongs on the top end.

His spider-sense kicked up a notch.

Wait a second, is that a- “AGH!”

In a swift movement, she jammed the object -which he now realized was a stun prod with alarmingly high voltage - directly into his stomach.

He retched as he doubled over, muscles twitching and nerves ablaze.

As the haze began to clear, Annie spoke slowly.

“You’re not going anywhere, Peter. Not until I’m done with you. Get back into bed.”

“Wha-?” another prod to the stomach followed by a pained grunt.

“I said get back into bed.” She repeated, deadly serious.

Peter wasn’t sure what to make of this situation. She was just a regular person, and regular people were easy enough to take down. But…she was clearly prepared for him.

The seemingly unbreakable restraints - he’d have to try them again once he was alone -, the prod with enough voltage to bring him, who regularly dealt with enemies like Shocker and Electro to his knees, the fact that she even managed to get him here in the first place…

She was clearly way more dangerous than she looked. Did she know?

Whatever the case, Peter knew that he just had to play along for now while he came up with a plan. He’d get out of here in no time.

He silently straightened, bracing his hand against one of the bed posts for support as he stood, and sat on the edge of the bed.

She looked content. At least, content enough for him to not get shocked again, that is.

“So, any idea what time it is? I am starving. Is it lunch time? Dinner time, even? And do you have a TV I can watch? Do you have Cinemax?” he rambled.

Peter knew he was testing her patience, but he didn’t really care. He was annoyed.

Annie smirked as she turned away from him and headed towards the door.

She stood in the doorway, one hand gripping the handle as she turned to look over her shoulder.

“We’re going to have so much fun together, Spider-Man.” she said before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

Peter fully flopped back onto the bed, draping an arm across his wide, bloodshot eyes as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest.
Shit.

Chapter Text

MJ stared down at the unanswered text on her phone as she sat slouched forward at the table, chin propped up on the palm of her hand as one elbow was braced on the hardwood and her other hand idly refreshed her and Peter’s text log. She absentmindedly chewed on the inside of her cheek - a nervous habit - as she glanced at the time.

The rest of the morning had come and gone quickly and quietly as MJ continued working on her long-since abandoned laptop. It was now coming up on 4PM and while she felt a bit silly sitting on her phone waiting for a text from her boyfriend, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was wrong.

She had checked the police scanner that Peter kept in the house for any signs of a Spider-Man related disturbance a bit earlier in the day, but heard nothing out of the ordinary. That should have been a relief, she supposed, but it only really stirred up more confusion as to why Peter hadn’t made it back home yet. He was very clearly a bit worse for wear upon leaving that morning, so she couldn’t imagine he’d have run any unnecessary errands.

Now spiraling a little, she opened up her contacts and clicked on Peter’s picture, holding the phone up to her ear as she listened to it ring once, twice, three times…until it went to voicemail.

“You have reached Peter Parker. I am not -”

Click.

MJ sighed and hung up, opting to not leave a voicemail.

Once again noting the time, she opened her contact list back up and dialed the only other number she could think of for something like this. It rang twice before a voice sounded on the other end.

“Hey MJ, what’s up?”

“Hey Miles.” She replied quickly. “It’s probably nothing, but are you free right now? It’s about Peter.”

…

Peter wasn’t sure how much time had passed - or when he’d fallen asleep - when he woke up coughing. He groaned quietly as his head throbbed with the action. As the coughing fit subsided, his sluggish brain caught him back up to the present.
Went out for coffee, intervened in what he thought was a mugging, got shot in the leg and conked on the head, woke up chained up in a strange room that was honestly nicer than every apartment he had rented before moving back into May’s house to be honest, and… ugh, Annie.

He wasn’t sure how she found out, but apparently Annie knew he was Spider-Man. But really, how sure is she? Maybe he could gaslight her into thinking she was mistaken. That wouldn’t be the worst idea he’d ever had.

He’d already tried breaking out of the chains several times after she left him alone in the room again and was more unnerved than he’d like to admit when he realized that no amount of strength he used was enough to get out of them. Granted, he wasn’t at full strength right now, but he didn’t think that’d change anytime soon.

In the meantime, there wasn’t much else for him to do other than stare at the ceiling as his eyes adjusted to the low lighting of the room.

I wonder what MJ is up to right now…Oh man, I hope she’s not freaking out. She wouldn’t be, right? I don’t think I’ve been gone that long. Or have I?

As he continued to ramble on in his mind, his thoughts were (rudely) interrupted by the door swinging open and letting in a flood of light. He squinted as Annie stepped into the room and flipped the switch by the door to turn on the overhead light.

“Hey Peter!” she chirped, unsettlingly cheery as she sauntered toward the bed.

He sat up and scooted backward so his back was flush against the headboard, eying her warily as he scanned her hands for the stun prod thingy she’d had earlier. He winced as the movement jostled his leg injury, but eased up a little as the relief of knowing that he wasn’t going to get shocked again (for now, at least) washed over him.

Rather than a weapon, she held a sandwich and a water bottle in her hand. Peter’s stomach growled as the sight of food reminded him that he hadn’t eaten yet today. He cleared his throat before replying.

“Hi Annie. Is that PB&J? I hope you cut it into triangles. While science can’t explain it yet, it’s a known fact that it always tastes better when it’s cut into triangles.”

She placed the water bottle and sandwich on the desk just out of reach of Peter’s range of motion before moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Peter instinctively scooted ever-so-slightly away from her.

Ignoring him, she spoke again.

“I feel like we might have gotten off on the wrong foot earlier. I got a little too excited too early and put you on the spot about the whole Spider-Man thing.”

Okay Pete, time to gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. Peter thought to himself before speaking.

“Put me on the spot? Nah, it’s fine. I mean, you actually left before I could tell you that you’ve got it all wrong. I’m not Spider-Man.” he said, shrugging.

A pathetic attempt at deflection, really, but an attempt nonetheless.

She continued to stare at him, so he took this as his cue to keep going.

“You see, I used to take pictures of Spider-Man for the Bugle and I helped him design and build some of his suits, so it’s not the first time someone has made that mistake. I’d probably think so too if I were you! But I’m not, classic case of mistaken identity, so no harm no foul.”

Annie stood up from the bed and walked over to the desk, picking up the sandwich she brought in and taking a bite. Peter frowned as watched her swallow and open her mouth to speak again.

“Oh I see. That would be an easy mistake to make, wouldn’t it? Silly me.” her expression was unreadable as she took another bite of the sandwich.

Peter was feeling incredibly awkward and wasn’t really sure
where to go next.

“Soooo, um, you said earlier that we were going to have so much fun together -” he emphasized with air quotes. “ What exactly did you mean by that? Just wondering if you mean the ‘Scary movie marathon and boy talk’ kind, or…”

Annie had finished her sandwich as Peter spoke.

“How about the, ‘I’m not a fucking idiot and I’m going to make you regret ever crossing my path’ kind?” she said, smiling.

“Okay, so no scary movies, then. More of a rom-com kind of girl? I’m partial to -”

Peter’s spider-sense flared as he raised a hand to catch the water bottle being hurled at his face, cringing as he was reminded of the chain that rattled at the sudden movement.

“Jeez, fine. But seriously, humor me. Why am I really here?” he asked, tone now a bit more serious as he uncapped the water bottle in his hand and took a few big swigs.

“I just want you to feel the pain that you made me feel.” Annie said simply.

Peter regarded her with a puzzled look on his face as he
polished off the water bottle. God, he was thirsty.

“Listen. Whatever I did, I’m sorry, but can you please jog my memory here? You’re starting to sound all cliche villain-y and the concussion is making it pretty hard to remember what I had for dinner last night, let alone any life-altering vendettas.”

Annie tilted her head slightly. “You took my livelihood from me.”

Huh?

“I’m sorry, could you please elaborate? I have no idea what you’re…”

Woah, headrush. Peter thought to himself as he was suddenly overcome with a wave of dizziness.

“I… Um… I don’t…” his tongue was starting to feel like lead in his mouth and he was finding it difficult to continue talking.

“What’s the matter? You wouldn’t shut up a few minutes ago.” Annie said calmly with the faintest trace of a smile.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. What was happening to him?

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to accept drinks from strangers?” Annie said coldly. “Not that I’m complaining. It’ll make this next part so much easier.”

Peter fought to keep his eyes open as he watched her reach into her back pocket and pull out a key. To his surprise, she was… unlocking the shackles from the floor?

He tried to move with his newfound freedom, but his limbs were growing heavier with each passing second. By the time she’d detached all of the chains from the floor, he was fully slumped against the headboard and his eyes were slits.

Panic bubbled in his chest as he saw Annie approach the bed, but he was effectively powerless to react. Peter felt a jolt of pain as she leaned down, face to face with him as she braced one of her hands on his injury and squeezed.

“Just go to sleep, Peter. You’re going to love the change of scenery when you wake up.” she hissed with a cruel smile on her face.

“Wh-” was all Peter could manage before his eyes slipped closed and he succumbed to unconsciousness once more.

Chapter Text

Peter is jolted awake as he feels a wave of ice-cold pain course through his body. He sputters and coughs as he feels his muscles tighten and spasm while he pries his eyes open.

His breath comes out in quick, rugged gasps and he tries and fails to wrap his arms around himself for warmth, quickly realizing that he's cuffed to a cold metal chair. The floor beneath him also appeared to be concrete - a stark contrast from the bedroom he was stuck in before.

Where am I now?

Peter jerks his arms and legs in the restraints to no avail. It is only when he hears the sound of a throat clearing a few feet away from him that it occurs to him that he's probably (no, definitely) not alone in this room.

Lifting his gaze, he shivers just because of the cold, of course when his eyes land on the source of the noise.

Standing in front of him is…MJ? No, not MJ, his brain supplied. A twisted, uncanny caricature of MJ

As his cold, fevered, pain-addled brain began to process the sight in front of him, his eyes went wide.

There stood Annie, dressed head to toe in MJ’s clothes. It was one of Peter's favorite outfits on her, actually. An emerald green top that showed off her shoulders and a pair of dark wash jeans that flattered her curves perfectly.

Come to think of it, he remembered helping her look for this top everywhere a few weeks ago and they were both bummed when they couldn't find it, ultimately deciding that it must have gotten lost in an alternate laundry dimension - just like half of their socks.

Even more unsettlingly, Annie had her hair styled exactly like MJ’s. Had she dyed it while he was unconscious? Was it a
wig? Either way, he didn't like it.

Worse still, however, was what he heard next.

“Morning, Tiger.” Annie cooed - soft, but wrong.

She looked like MJ and she talked like MJ but really, everything about her felt like the complete opposite. Her voice was twisted and cloying and unnatural.

Peter felt the hair on his arms raise as he fought back another shiver. He wanted to attribute it to the cold, but the steady thrumming of his spider-sense made sure he knew better.

“W-what is this?” Peter asked, tone uncharacteristically serious as his teeth chattered. His clothes were completely soaked through after his run-in with the world’s worst alarm clock and he couldn't stop himself from trembling. “What are you d-doing?”

Annie took a few steps toward him and stopped just inches away from his face, bending slightly at the waist as she reached out a hand and gently cupped his chin, tilting his head upward to meet her eyes.

Peter recoiled and his stomach churned as he took in another terrifying detail - Is that MJ’s perfume?

“What's the matter, Pete? Aren't you happy to see me?” She asked in her too-sweet mimicry of MJ’s voice.

Peter tugged at his restraints again as he turned his face away from her. For the first time since getting into this situation, he was feeling real fear.

He let out a long, shuddering breath before turning to face Not-MJ again, steeling himself as he spoke.

“W-Where, no - How the hell did you get those clothes? I have to say, t-this cosplay does not suit you.”

Annie had dropped her hand from Peter's chin to his shoulder and she dug her nails into him as she spoke.

“What, you don't like them?” She said, feigning a pout. “You couldn't seem to take your eyes off of this top whenever MJ put it on.”

Peter's breath hitched as his body froze - more than it already had, if that was even possible. MJ? Why does she know MJ’s name?

Annie seemed to pick up on this, as she tutted before speaking again. “Oh come on Tiger, I've been watching you for a long time. I know everything about you. So why don't we cut to the chase and make things easier for the both of us.”
Peter glared at her silently as he waited for her to continue.

“As far as I see it, you ruined my routine and I think you owe me. You know at first, I hated you for it. But as I watched you, I couldn't help but grow a bit…attached. I think we should both start over. I know what you like, and I think it's only fair that you play along with me.” She smiled a tight, unnaturally wide smile that didn't quite match her eyes as she leaned forward and booted his nose.

Peter's stomach roiled as he jerked his head back, desperately trying to create some semblance of distance between them as his mind raced.

New routine? How long has she been watching me? And if she's pretending to be MJ, does she want to… no, nuh uh, no way.

“Sorry Annie, but I actually think I've nailed my routine and I prefer to save the role-playing for Comic Con. How about instead, you let me go and introduce you to a very nice doctor at my favorite sanatorium?”

The look on her face remained eerily unchanged as she moved her hand from his shoulder to his right hand.

“I had a feeling you might say that.” She said as she quickly grabbed hold of his pointer finger and bent it backward until she heard - and Peter felt - a sickening crack.

He yelped, both from surprise and from pain, as Annie straightened up in front of him.

“You can play alone or you can starve. And hey, you still have so many bones left to break. We have plenty of time to change your mind.”

Without so much as another word, she swiftly turned around and left the room - closing the door behind her and leaving Peter alone in total darkness.

Chapter Text

When Miles slipped through the front door of the Parker-Watson household, the tension in the air was so thick that he could have sliced through it with a knife.

He knocked a few times and received no response, ultimately opting to just walk in since he knew MJ was expecting him.

Over the phone, MJ spoke with her usual level of elegance and self-assurance, but Miles could sense just a hint of something else under the surface.

Panic? Fear?

He didn’t see her like this often, so it was especially jarring as he walked into the kitchen and saw MJ pacing back and forth by the table as she muttered under her breath, entirely lost in thought.

Miles cleared his throat in an attempt to get her attention - to no avail - before walking up to her and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She jolted in response.

“Jesus Chr- Oh! Miles... Sorry about that, I um, didn’t hear you come in.”

“All good, MJ. Sorry for scaring you.” he said, though he noted that he attempted to make his presence known a few times before approaching her. “So, Pete’s missing?”

Miles uncomfortably shifted his weight to his left foot as he waited for MJ to answer, watching her take a steadying breath before she spoke.

“Yeah… or, maybe? I don’t know, Miles. He - I know Pete’s perfectly capable on his own, but he has been off for the past few days. Worn down. He was definitely feeling sick when he left the house this morning so I figured he’d come right back, but it’s been hours now-”

“MJ, breathe.” Miles murmured softly. She was speaking quickly and everything was coming out in one breath. Her shoulder sagged a little in response.

“So, he left a little after 10AM for coffee and never came back, so he’s been gone for-” he checked his watch, it’s 5PM now, “about 7 hours now?” he said slowly. If he was feeling nervous at all, which he definitely wasn’t, of course, he didn’t want to let it show in front of MJ.

“Yeah. I mean, it might be nothing. He’s been gone for longer - he went missing for almost a full day after his run in with Otto at Ryker’s during the Devil’s Breath incident, but… he was okay. Hurt, really hurt, but he was able to handle himself then. And I haven’t heard anything on the police scanners or the news that would point to any Spider-Man level crises. But still, I have this feeling that something is wrong. I’m probably just overthinking it but-”

“MJ.” Miles interrupted gently. “You’re not overthinking it. Pete’s tough, yeah, but you’re right. I haven’t seen him this tired in a long time, and I could see him trying to tough it out the last time we hung out. He’s scared of making us worry about him, you know how it is. I think it’s weird that he hasn’t come back yet too.”

MJ relaxed a little, or as much as she could anyway, feeling reassured that she wasn’t grossly overreacting, and chuckled softly. “

“Yeah. He could have a 6 foot chunk of rebar impaling him directly through his stomach and be like, ‘It’s no big deal MJ! ‘Tis but a flesh wound!”

Miles laughed at this and nodded with a sad smile on his face.

“Yeah. And I tried calling and texting him too and haven’t heard back. His phone was still on, last I checked, he just wasn’t answering. Actually - I should be able to track it. Can I use your computer?” he asked with a twinge of excitement in his voice.

MJ’s eyes lit up at the suggestion and answered without hesitation. “Of course!”

A few minutes later, he and MJ were hunched over the kitchen table staring intently at her laptop.

“So… it’s pinging at the coffee shop?” MJ said quizzically.

“Yeah.” Miles answered slowly. “But is Pete still at the coffee shop?”

MJ frowned. “I hope so…Maybe he fell asleep at one of the booths? We’re in there so much, the baristas all know us. I’m sure they’d let him.” She rationalized, the faintest trace of desperation present in her voice.

Before MJ could even finish her sentence, Miles had stripped away his school clothes and was donning the Spider-Man suit he wore underneath. He spoke around the mask he held between his teeth as he tugged on his gloves.

“I hope so. That-” he finished putting on his gloves and took the mask into his hands, “would make this all so much easier.” He concluded as he started to tug the mask over his head.

MJ nodded quickly as Miles spoke again, heading toward the door.

“I’ll swing over there now and let you know what I find.” he said as he opened the door and aimed his web shooter at the nearest building.

“We’ll find him, Miles.” MJ said with shaky determination.

“You know it!” Miles replied with a thumbs up as he launched a web into the air and began to swing down the street.

And with that, MJ was alone once again.

…

When Miles arrived at the coffee shop, nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary at a glance. There were a few people sitting at the tables outside with their drinks, some scrolling on their phones and some engrossed in conversations with one another - and there was no one inside. It was about 5:45 now and the cafe was about to close, so that made sense.

It was quickly made apparent that Pete was not here. So, where is his phone?

A couple at one of the tables noticed and waved at him with a cheerful, “Hey Spidey!” and he politely waved back, hoping the tension he held within his body wasn’t as palpable as he thought it was.

Miles scanned the tables outdoors before dropping to a crouch, and looking beneath them Nada. He cleared his throat.

“Hey guys.” he said to no-one in particular. “Has anyone seen a phone out here? A buddy of mine lost his and I’m trying to help him out.”

After a resounding set of no’s and head shakes, he sighed and went inside the cafe. He scanned the tables and floors quickly before approaching the barista at the counter.

“Hey man, did anyone leave a phone in here today?” he asked hopefully.

The barista paused as he was wiping down the counters - getting ready for closing no doubt - and thought for a moment before answering.

“Nah, sorry Spidey. You lose your phone?”

Miles shook his head. “Nah, buddy of mine. Thanks anyway, though.” He said, feeling a little defeated before walking out of the shop and sending a quick text to MJ.

“Hey MJ. No luck yet. Is Pete’s phone still pinging here?”

He watched the dots dance across his phone as MJ started responding, lightning fast.

“Yeah. Want me to try calling him?”

Duh! Miles thought to himself as he internally facepalmed. Why didn’t I think of that first?.

“Yes, please!” he responded quickly as he started to focus, tuning everything else around him out.

“Calling now.” was MJ’s response.

At first he didn’t hear anything, so he stepped outside.

Then he heard it - Peter’s cheesy “Kung Fu Fighting” ringtone that he had set up for MJ’s calls. Quiet, but definitely nearby.

He scanned the patio tables, but didn’t see anything as the ringing eventually stopped.

Ah, so close!

He sent another text to MJ.

“I hear his ringtone. Can you try one more time?”

The phone started ringing again seconds later, and he followed the noise to the alleyway next to the cafe.

He froze in place for a moment at the sight of blood - seemingly fresh - in a small concentrated splotch on the ground.

Is that…? Nah, can’t be. he thought to himself as he pointedly ignored the not suspicious at all bloodstain and jogged toward the source of the noise.

His stomach dropped when he followed it to the inside of the dumpster, fingers trembling slightly as he took the phone from the top of the pile and slid his thumb across the “Answer” button and brought the phone up to his ear.

He swallowed thickly before speaking. “Hey MJ… I found Pete’s phone in a dumpster next to the cafe, but I don’t see any sign of him. I’m going to keep looking to see if there’s anything else in here.” he said solemnly.

“Oh God…” MJ replied in a hushed tone on the other line. Miles thought he heard a sniffle, but didn’t comment on it.

Next to where he found the phone, Miles saw two completely full drinks.

“Man what a waste, a cup of coffee is like $9 these d-” he abruptly stopped mid-sentence.

“Miles?” MJ said on the other end, voice laced with worry. “What is it?”

Miles picked up one of the drinks and started to pace back and forth in front of the dumpster.

“What’s that weirdly specific drink Pete likes to order?” he asked, tone eerily serious.

MJ laughed sharply, caught off guard by the seemingly random question. “It’s a medium iced half-and-half latte with a shot of espresso and a dash of cinnamon… why?”

A beat of silence. Miles’ hand trembled as he looked down at the untouched drink he’d fished out of the trash.

“I have bad news.”

Chapter Text

At some point, Annie had moved Peter back to the bed - keeping his ankles chained, but giving him free range of his arms.

He woke up to her cuddled against him. As his brain worked to fully get back online, he felt the light prickling of his spider-sense at the base of his neck.

Before he could process what this meant, he felt a chaste kiss against his lips and he instinctively shoved the offending body off of the bed. Not enough to hurt her because of his diminished strength, but strong enough to get her away from him.

No longer focused on Annie, Peter was now hyperventilating. Each breath felt simultaneously like it was too much and yet somehow not enough. He felt violated.

He had become so lost in his panic that he didn't even register Annie getting up and walking back over to the bed.

He notices - too late - that she's fastening a metal object around his neck.

As Peter aims to take another swing at her, his jaw tightens and his muscles lock in place as he's hit with a wave of electricity. The burning sensation lasts about 10 seconds before he goes slack, and when he opens his eyes again he sees a remote in Annie's hand.

While he was trying desperately to get his bearings, she'd put a shock collar on him. A strong one.

She stared at him with fierce anger in her eyes as her finger hovered over the button. "Don't fucking move." She growls as she quickly stalks out of the room.

Peter is too winded to react and is still reeling from it all. The touch, the violation, the pain.

When she comes back, she's holding a pair of thick metal cuffs. She stands at the edge of the bed and instructs him to sit up and put his back to her.

No. No way he thinks to himself as he sets his jaw with determination. He doesn't want her touching him again.

"Peter, I am not going to ask you again." Annie says sweetly.

"Fuck you." Is all Peter says before he's hit with another wave of electricity, this one stronger than the last.
His muscles are convulsing and every nerve in his body feels like it's on fire.

Once it finally stops, his body continues to twitch lightly as it rides through the aftershocks. He's too tired to blink, let alone move away as he feels Annie come up behind him and maneuver his hands behind his back - clicking the cuffs in place a little too tightly.

Peter knows it's to "punish" him for his "misbehavior".

Annie speaks, but Peter doesn't hear her as suddenly everything starts to feel too much all at once.

Her voice sounds like he's hearing it from underwater, he can feel and hear the dull mechanical hum of the collar.

He reactively tests his restraints and can feel the moment his skin splits from the friction of the metal against his wrists.

His breathing is coming out in short, shallow gasps and the only thing that manages to bring him back to the present is the slow, syrupy movement of his spider-sense as he registers that Annie's face is now inches away from his own.

He flinches back as he feels her breath ghost against his face.

“-to play nice now?"

Peter blinks sluggishly. "What?"

Annie frowns slightly. "C'mon Tiger, were you even listening to me? You're always so lost in thought."
Cloyingly sweet.

Peter's stomach churned. If he'd had any food in him, he'd be wearing it right about now.

"This -" he starts, his mouth dry as if it had been stuffed with cotton, "isn't the five star treatment I was promised...
Sheets are scratchy and the room service sucks." He managed.

He didn't want her to think she was getting to him, but his mind was fraying at the edges.

"And these cuffs..." A pause as he took in a breath. "So gauche. Don't you have any fuzzy pink ones like any self-respecting restraint enthusiast?"

His voice was tight and shaky. He knew that. But he needed to feel like he had some footing somewhere. Needed to stay grounded.

Peter feels his whole body freeze as Annie extends a hand and places it on his head, ruffling his hair affectionately. It feels nice and he almost leans into it before his brain reminds him, DANGER. NOT MJ.

She giggles - high, forced, unnatural sound - before she says, "You have always been so funny. I love that about you."
Peter grits his teeth, the sound of bone on bone echoing in his head. "I was hoping you'd guest star on the podcast today. I've been wanting to shake things up with a co-host."

Peter tilted his head. "Huh?"

"You know, 'The New Normal'. Come on Pete, I've been recording it since the symbiote incident." She said, a bit insistent. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I know what it is but it's not - you're not -" he paused.

He was so tired. Should he just...play along?

Peter realized he'd gone silent for a bit too long as he felt Annie's gaze bore into him.

"Uh, sorry. You, ah, you've always wanted the podcast to be your thing. I'd hate to overstep."

His spider-sense flickered like a dying LED light as Annie smiled at him and placed a gentle hand on his bad knee. A quiet whisper in the back of his mind told him to bolt, but his body was screaming at him that he needed to sleep.

"Overstep? No, I'd love to have you on. I can make us breakfast and we can eat while we talk. It'll be a casual, cozy episode."

Breakfast. His stomach accepted the request for him. He hadn't eaten in...What day is it? And the constant pain in his stomach was slowly driving him crazy. He was feeling weak and unfocused.

"I'll take that stomach growl as a yes, then!" Annie says brightly as she stands up from the bed. She fishes a key from her pocket and quickly unlocks the restraints around his ankles.

Peter has a fleeting thought to run, but he knows he won't get very far in his current condition. Black spots dance in his vision and the world tilts on its axis ever so slightly as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed.

A jolt of pain radiates upward from his bad knee the moment his feet touch the floor, and he groans quietly. He looks down at his leg and sees a small, fresh bloom of red beneath the bandage haphazardly wrapped around it - nausea bubbling up as he's suddenly acutely aware of a smell that's not quite right.

Breathing through the pain, he makes a move to stand. He falters slightly as he rises to his full height, feeling slightly off balance.

He takes one step, and then another, and stumbles slightly. He heard light, quick footsteps approaching as Annie was suddenly next to him with a hand wrapped around his waist.

"I know you're not feeling your best right now, so you can lean on me while we walk to the kitchen." She said, smiling a little too widely.

Peter shook his head rapidly, the movement making him dizzy. "N-No. I'll be fine...I'll manage."

Don't touch me. Don't touch me. Donttouchme-

Annie's smile faltered slightly and she tightened her grip. "I insist. You always try to do so much on your own. Let me help you." She insisted as she tugged him forward slightly and started towards the kitchen.

Peter let out a resigned, shaky sigh as he limped toward the kitchen. His body was grateful for the support, but his spider-sense was pulsing like a strobe light.

As they walked into the kitchen, Annie guided him toward the table and gently pushed him into a wooden chair. He let her.

Just the short walk down the hall had caused sweat to bead above his eyebrows, his energy sapped already.

He shifted slightly, feeling the wood creak and groan beneath him as he watched Annie rifle through one of the drawers as she hummed quietly to herself.

She turned back around to face him with zip ties in her hands, and his body tensed as she approached. He nervously cleared his throat.

"What are we doing with those? Props for the podcast?"

Annie playfully rolled her eyes. "No, Petey, they're for you. We don't want you wandering around and hurting yourself."

Peter tensed. Petey?

"I assure you I won't be going anywhere. You know, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I'd never skip something so crucial. I'm a growing boy." He joked halfheartedly.

He was already feeling so claustrophobic and the thought of being tied down again had his heart pounding against his ribcage.

His words were clearly lost on her as she quietly knelt in front of him and secured his ankles to the leg of the chairs, glancing up at him with a look that said, I dare you to kick me. Watch what happens.

Annie finishes and stands up, looking him in the eyes once he's fully secure.

"Good boy." She murmurs as she turns around and walks towards the fridge.

Peter scans the kitchen for something, anything he could use to his advantage.

He spotted the usual items. Scissors, kitchen knives, but they were all just out of reach.

Cutting through the zip ties would be easy enough... If he had access to his hands. He needed to find a way out of the cuffs.

Annie probably still had the key on her, but how would he get it? But even if he was able to somehow maneuver himself into a position to be able to take the keys, wouldn't she just use the remote to shock him the moment he thought he had the upper hand?

His thoughts were interrupted as Annie called out to him.

"How do you prefer your eggs?" She asked.

"I thought you said you knew everything about me?" Peter muttered, annoyed.

"What was that?" Annie asked, voice an octave higher than her usual through clenched teeth.

He spoke again, a little louder with an annoyed growl. "I said, I thought you said you already knew everything about me. Did you say you've been watching me? You should alre- AAAAGGH!"

His sentence trailed off into a scream as his nerve endings were alight, supercharged by 20000 volts of electricity.

After an agonizing full minute of shocks, the collar was abruptly shut off and Peter slumped forward, chest heaving as tears involuntarily pricked at the corners of his eyes.

His spider-sense flickered as he faintly registered the sound of footsteps over the blood rushing in his ears.

He flinched backward as he felt soft fingers under his chin, tilting his face upward. His red rimmed eyes met Annie's wild, angry ones.

"Keep up that attitude and you'll be lucky if I feed you at all. Ungrateful fucking brat. Maybe if you're sorry enough, I'll still let you have an egg." She said, now looking at him expectantly.

Peter scowled, wanting nothing more to spit in her face and scream and thrash in his chair. However, his stomach once again betrayed him as it let out a loud growl. He was so hungry it hurt.

He sighed in resignation, cheeks burning with humiliation as he steeled himself.

"I... I'm uh, I'm sorry."

Annie titled her head to the side.

"Sorry for what?"

Peter frowned. He was so tired. "For, um... For being rude?"

She smirked. "I'll keep making you breakfast if you ask me nicely."

Oh come on, she's milking it. Ugh...suck it up, Parker.

His cheeks flushed a little deeper. "I would appreciate it if you'd make me breakfast...please."

Annie tapped her ear as if she didn't hear him, gesturing for him to repeat himself. "What was that?"
Peter didn't think it was possible, but he somehow managed to flush even deeper. "Please...make me breakfast."

Annie smiled brightly and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in a way that might have felt affectionate if not for the feeling of her fingernails digging into his skin.

"Coming right up, Tiger.”

Peter let out a deep, shaky breath that quickly devolved into a raspy, painful cough as Annie turned around and got to work in the kitchen - not even sparing him a glance.

At some point he must have let his eyes slip closed, as his body jolted at the sound of silverware clanking on a plate a few inches in front of him.

He could feel himself salivating at the sight and the smell, Oh man, it smelled so good, of the hot plate of pancakes and eggs in front of him.

“So uh, how am I going to eat this? I've participated in a few hot dog eating contests without using my hands but I feel like this would just be next-level messy.” He joked tiredly, eyeing the plate like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Annie smiled as she set down her own plate on the table next to his.

“Don't be ridiculous, I'll feed it to you.” She said, as if that was a completely normal and reasonable thing to offer.

Peter frowned and tilted his head.

“Ah, no, that's fine. Better yet, you could just unlock the cuffs. No funny business, I promise, scout's honor.” He said, feigning seriousness.

Her smile grew a little wider, unnaturally so.

“I'll feed it to you or you won't eat it at all.” She said plainly.

Peter huffed. He didn't want this. Well, he wanted the food, but he didn't want this.

Annie appeared to grow annoyed with his silence, as she swiftly moved both plates to the other side of the table.

“God, you're always so difficult.” she muttered through clenched teeth.

“Change of plans. We record the podcast first. You'll get your breakfast if you behave. And I'll feed it to you, or you won't eat. Understand?”

Peter looked at her incredulously, feeling like he wanted to scream.

Annie lurched forward and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her.

“I said, do you understand?”. She asked again, spitting a little as she did so.

Peter sighed as his shoulders sagged in defeat.

“Fine.”

Annie's expression changed to a bright smile and her tone shifted back to one that was eerily saccharine.

“Perfect! I'll be right back.” She said as she left the room.

Peter leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling and blinking away the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes as she flitted back and forth between rooms, eventually having set up a laptop and two surprisingly expensive looking microphones on the table in front of them.

Once she was settled back down, she looked at him and counted down from five on her fingers. When she reached zero, she spoke in a way that chilled Peter to the bone.

“Hi everyone! This is Mary Jane Watson and you're listening to ‘The New Normal’. We have a very special episode today with surprise co-host and love of my life, Peter Parker!”

Chapter Text

Having Peter around, Annie decided, was so much fun. Sure, he was a little mopey and didn’t really speak to her in anything other than bad jokes and sarcastic phrases, but she didn’t mind.

She loved watching his will slowly begin to dissolve the longer they spent together, and she loved watching him squirm. The power she held over him was intoxicating.

He seemed to soften ever-so-slightly whenever she became Mary Jane Watson. There was always a flicker of something in his eyes – sadness? desperation? longing? – and a shift in his body language. A slight tremble, a hitch in his breath, the increased rising and falling of his chest as he felt a sudden surge of emotion when he saw her.

She especially loved watching him sleep. He’d snore, toss and turn, and even talk a little. Most often, he’d mumble MJ or Miles. Sometimes May or Harry.

Annie was looking forward to the day she’d hear her name in his unconscious musings. She wanted to become every part of his life, be in every part of his routine.

She’d get there, she was sure of it.

*
*
*

Making Peter record The New Normal with her was a real treat, if not a bit uneventful. Annie liked it when he put up a bit of a fight, but he was surprisingly well-behaved, if not seemingly a little restless. He kept tapping his foot throughout the entirety of the recording.

It was repetitive and consistent. A little annoying, but also a little cute. Probably a nervous habit.

He was positive and engaged, which wasn’t necessarily unlike him – when she’d watched him in the past, that is – but it was unusual in the short time they’d spent together.

Peter had even asked about where she’d post the podcast, which raised some suspicion for her. Annie had made a mental note to thoroughly comb through the recording for any key words or phrases that he might have said to tip off anyone who would hear it.

When they were finished, he let her feed him his cold breakfast before she helped him back to his room. She considered leaving his hands free, but thought better of it given his behavior before breakfast. Peter did try, as usual, to halfheartedly talk her out of it though.

Annie sat at the table for hours listening again and again to the podcast for any hints or cues Peter may have left in the podcast. She took notes, tried to piece together a code, an anagram, anything, really – but ultimately concluded that he was, in fact, just playing his part.

Maybe it reminded him of home, of MJ, of something familiar and comforting.

Was she becoming that for Peter?? The thought made her heart flutter with excitement.

By late afternoon, she had finished editing the podcast and teed it up to upload to all of the usual channels, smirking to herself at the thought of people finding and listening to this instead of Mary Jane Watson’s podcast.

She hoped she’d find it and listen to it. Annie was confident that she couldn’t be traced. In fact, she’d made sure of it.

She’d have to stop by the Parker-Watson home soon to catch a glimpse of Mary Jane’s reaction to knowing that Peter was okay, but out of her reach. Maybe she’d even tell Peter about it when she got back.

No, she’d definitely tell Peter about it.

“Time to go live!” She said aloud, to no-one in particular.

Click.

Chapter Text

It had been six days since Peter had gone missing and Mary Jane was at her wits end. After Miles had found Peter’s phone and – she shuddered thinking about this – his blood by the coffee shop, they thought they could get a solid lead, but…

They asked around, checked surveillance camera footage in the area, and even dug through his phone, but they ultimately came up short.

MJ blinked away the tears in her eyes as she remembered unlocking Peter’s phone to find that the last thing he’d had open before disappearing... No, being taken, she was sure, was her contact.

He was trying to call me for help… What happened to him?

Now, she sat at the kitchen table with her laptop open and her face in her hands. Is Peter okay? Is he even still…

No, she couldn’t think like that. He had to be alive.

With no Spider-Man sightings, no taunts or displays from his rogues gallery, and no communication from Peter, she was at a loss.

She had her laptop open at all times during the day, obsessively combing through the news and every social media feed she could think of in the hopes of finding anything that could give her even the tiniest semblance of a clue.

MJ was late in publishing this week’s episode of her podcast, too. She hadn’t even started to record it. Couldn’t even fathom getting through it right now, really. As such, when she started getting messages from her subscribers asking what was up with this week’s episode – well, to say that she was confused would be an understatement.

She navigated to her own social media, half-wondering if she’d sleepwalked her way through recording, editing, and posting the new episode – or been hacked, perhaps – and was unsurprised when she found that there was nothing there.

Opening her Twitter feed back up, she clicked into her mentions and hovered over the first one she saw.

NYCL0v3R: @MJWatson what’s up with the new episode? New handle? And your voice sounds weird. Were you sick?

MJWatson: @NYCL0v3r Can you share the link please? Not me, probably need to flag and report. Thx.

Once she had the link, she pasted it into her browser to investigate. She felt a pang of guilt about halting her search for Peter over something so trivial, but she supposed she needed the distraction before she drove herself crazy.

Opening the link, she noticed the Spotify account looked weird. It was nearly a carbon copy of her own with a few minor tweaks. At a glance though, she could see why someone might think it was her.

Same name, though some characters were swapped out because her username was obviously already taken, same About page description and links, and same photo as the one she used on her own account.

Notably, the episode she’d been linked to was the only one on the page.

“Bot account, maybe?” She muttered as she wondered idly.

Curious, she slipped her headphones on and clicked “Play”.

A woman’s voice started. “Hi everyone! This is Mary Jane Watson and you're listening to ‘The New Normal’."

“How original.” MJ mused as she rolled her eyes.Whoever this was did sound like her, in a slightly off, pod-person kind of way. She could see how people could have thought this was her.

“…We have a very special episode today with surprise co-host and love of my life, Peter Parker!”

“What?!” MJ jolted as her heart began to hammer in her chest.

Peter? Her Peter?

She swallowed thickly, straightening up and now giving the podcast her rapt attention.

“This is Pete’s first time on a podcast, so make sure you give him a very warm welcome. Go ahead and introduce yourself, Tiger.”

MJ’s blood ran cold.

Tiger? That was her nickname for him. How would this woman know about it? Was Pete really…?

“Um, hi everyone!” The voice spoke before pausing to clear their throat.

No way.

“I’m, ah, my name’s Peter Parker. Or, Pete. You can call me Pete though. I run the Emily-May Foundation, or EMF for short.” He spoke quickly and there was a clear tinge of nervousness lacing his tone.

MJ reached out a shaky hand to pause the recording as tears started to roll down her cheeks.

That was Pete. Her Pete. He was alive! But was he okay? Where was he? Who is he with? He sounded...off. Unmistakably him, but wrong.

Peter sounded tired. And maybe a bit…afraid? His voice also had an unusual rasp to it and she wondered when this was recorded, recalling he was sick when he went missing last week.

Steeling herself, she leaned forward and resumed the recording.

…

MJ listened to the podcast in its entirety five times. It was now nearing 1PM and she was feeling frustrated.

She’d been hoping “Mary Jane” would slip up, or that Peter would sneak in a secret message or a clue as to where he was, but nothing stood out to her.

Pete sounded, well, not okay but normal enough. He was clearly playing along with this psychopath, but why?. The complacency seemed unlike him.

But then again, she knew him. He was smart, creative, quick under pressure. There must have been something she was missing…

“The IP address!” She yelled suddenly, jumping up from the table and reaching into her pocket.

She took out her phone, unlocking it and opening her text thread with Miles.

911. HUGE news. It’s Pete. Leave school and come to the house ASAP.

Miles was tech savvy. Maybe even more so than Pete, on some level. He could help. Or his friend Ganke could.

MJ’s heart leapt as she felt the first real surge of hope in nearly a week.

* * *

Upon seeing MJ’s text, Miles moved faster than he had in a long time. He fumbled with his books as he shoved them off of his desk and crammed them into his backpack at lightning speed, not even bothering to come up with an excuse as he bolted past Ms. Ferguson and into the hallway.

His phone pinged a few times as he scaled the stairs and headed up to the roof to change into his suit.

Hailey: Are you okay?

Ganke: Dude, what was that? Spider-Man thing?

Miles resolved to answer them later as he webbed his backpack to a nearby wall and leapt off the roof, starting the swing to the Parker-Watson house.

…

As he landed on the sidewalk in front of the porch, Miles paused as he looked and listened around for any sense of danger.

Spidey sense is quiet, so that’s probably a good sign.

MJ must have heard him, because a few seconds later the front door was thrown open as she leaned out and grabbed his wrist, tugging him into the living room.

She was brimming with nervous energy as Miles glanced around the house before tugging his mask off and placing it on the arm of the couch. He glanced around the house and deflated a little as he registered there was still no sign of his mentor.

“Miles, thank god you’re here.” MJ said breathlessly

“What happened? Is Pete okay? Did you find him?” The words tumbled out of Miles’ mouth.

A determined look spread across MJ’s face.

“Not exactly, but come here. Listen to this.” She said as she started walking toward the table, motioning for him to follow. She stopped in front of her laptop and unplugged her headset.

“I kept getting messages about my podcast this morning, but I didn’t post this week. I haven’t even recorded it yet. Someone sent me a link to it and, hold on - listen to this.” She said as she leaned forward and opened a Spotify tab.

Miles tilted his head, squinting as he looked at the screen.

“The New Normal. That is your podcast though, isn’t it?” He asked.

“Yeah, but look at the profile. It’s close, but it’s off.” She said with a curious expression.

Miles looked closer. She was right. It was close enough to pass at a glance, but it was clearly different. And it only had one episode posted. MJ had about 15 out by now.

“You’re right, that is weird… And you think this has something to do with Pete?"

MJ’s face hardened. No, “I know it does.” She said as she clicked the play button.

Miles listened closely, immediately weirded out by the MJ-but-not-MJ soundalike. It made the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand on end.

But what really got his attention was what he heard next.

“Pete!” He breathed out, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief at the sound of his voice.

He looked at MJ and noticed the slight watery shine to them.

“That means he’s okay, right? This is good!” He said enthusiastically as he saw MJ deflate a little.

His excitement wavered a little. “Or, not good?”

MJ cleared her throat as she paused the episode. “I’ve listened to it a few times, but I’m stuck. I feel like I’m missing something. I feel like there should be a code or a clue or something in there. Pete has to have left us something if he knew this was going to be posted, but… I don’t know. Can we try to trace the IP address?”

Miles frowned. The thought of Peter just…going along with something like this didn’t sound right to him.

“Yeah, I’ll text Ganke and see if he can help us out. He’s way better at this kind of thing. But, do you mind if I listen to the whole thing? Maybe…I dunno…maybe I can find something?"

MJ nodded. “Yeah, um. Go ahead.” She looked anxious. “I think I need a breather though. I’m going to go upstairs and take a shower. Feel free to invite Ganke over, I won’t be long.”

Poor MJ. She’s probably been driving herself crazy listening to this.

“Yeah, of course.” Miles replied quickly as he retrieved his phone from his suit pocket. “I’m texting Ganke now. And I’ll plug the headphones back in to listen to the rest of this.”

MJ relaxed a little. “Thanks, Miles.” She said as she started up the stairs.

He sent his text to Ganke and replied to Hailey before putting the headphones on and resuming the video.

The further in he got, the more discouraged he began to feel as he realized what MJ was talking about. Peter was just…normal. No weird speech, no out of place words, nothing. He could even hear him bouncing his leg the same way he normally did whenever they were deep in conversation.

Except…

Wait.

Miles turned up the volume and focused on the tapping. It sounded oddly deliberate?

He tuned out Pete and Not-MJ’s voices and focused on the tapping.

tap.tap…tap...tap.tap…tap.taptap.tap.

As soon as it ended, it started again.

tap.tap…tap...tap.tap…tap.taptap.tap.

And again.

tap.tap…tap...tap.tap…tap.taptap.tap.

Peter was tapping the same rhythm over and over again throughout the remainder of the podcast.

Miles immediately started it over again and listened closely. He realized the tapping rhythm started the moment he started speaking and persisted throughout the entire recording.

“But what does that mean, Pete?” He wondered as he started drumming his fingers against the tabletop.

As he was doing this, he heard MJ starting to head back downstairs.

“Hey MJ?” He asked, taking in her wet hair and puffy eyes.

“What’s up, Miles?”

“Do you have a pen and paper I can borrow? I think…I think I might be onto something.”

Something resembling hope flashed in MJ’s eyes as she wandered into one of the spare rooms and emerged with a notebook and a ballpoint pen.

Miles thanked her as he took the pen and notebook, opening the notebook up to the first blank page.

“So, about halfway through the podcast I noticed Pete kept tapping his foot. And I mean, he does that all the time, but this sounded…different, you know?”

MJ tilted her head, furrowing her eyebrows in thought as she nodded for him to continue.

"It sounds like a specific rhythm. He does it over and over again throughout the entire recording. It sounds like this -” He paused to tap out the pattern on the table.

MJ hummed. “Huh. I didn’t notice that, but now that you mention it… It does sound like something.”

Miles turned his head as he heard footsteps outside, moving to stand up as he heard a knock at the front door.

“That’s gotta be Ganke.” He said as walked over to open it.

“Hey man!” Ganke said as Miles let him into the house and closed the door behind him.

“Hey. Thanks for coming.” Miles said as he walked back over toward the table and sat down.

“So, this is about Mr. Parker?” He asked. “How can I help?”

MJ spoke. “We found this podcast… It’s someone pretending to be me.” She shuddered. “And Pete is on it.”

Ganke gaped. “What? So, he’s alive? I mean, not that we thought he wasn’t, but um…So Mr. Parker is okay?”

“We hope so…” Miles said as he went back to tapping his fingers on the table.

“So” MJ started again. “We’re hoping you can trace the IP address so we can figure out where this was posted from. Maybe if we find the source, we can find Pete.”

Ganke nodded. “Yeah. Yeah! That’s a good idea. I’ll see what I can do.”

His eyes then drifted over to Miles.

“What is that? Sounds like Morse Code. Was that part of the recording?” He said as he looked between Miles and the notebook.
Miles stopped tapping. “Huh?”

“Dude, I was a boy scout for like, 10 years. That sounds like Morse.” Ganke continued. “Are you trying to translate it?"

MJ and Miles exchanged a look as realization spread across their faces.

“That’s it!” Miles said excitedly. “Ganke, you’re a genius!”

Ganke waved his hand bashfully. “Nah.”

“So, Pete kept tapping out this rhythm throughout the entire recording. I thought it sounded weird, but I couldn’t figure out what it meant. But this changes everything. I knew he had to have left a clue in there somewhere!” Miles said triumphantly.

Ganke moved next to Miles and picked up the pen and notebook. “Need help translating it?”

Miles nodded. “Yes, please. It sounded like this.” He said as he repeated the rhythm from the podcast.

tap.tap…tap...tap.tap…tap.taptap.tap.

Ganke started writing. “Can you do that one more time?”

Miles hummed and repeated the rhythm.

Ganke finished writing and placed the notebook back down onto the table, angling it toward MJ and Miles.

.- -. -. .. .

MJ spoke. “So, what does it mean?” She asked, looking at Ganke.

He thought for a moment and leaned over the table, scribbling out a few messy letters.

A N N I E