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In all the days of his life, Peter never had someone he could come back to when the burdens of his double life were too much to bear until now. Y/N L/N, a regular civilian, working too many double shifts at a simple coffee shop and sandwich parlor, but even so she made time for him.
He didn’t deserve her.
At first, he truly thought of her as his friend, something platonic; innocent. However, after months of visiting her, nights they’d spend hours talking, the times she’d cleaned his injuries, something more delicate grew from the bonds of friendship. But Peter couldn’t decide if he should tell her or sit on that for a while. Afterall, it was only last week when he discovered his own internal feelings. Not to mention, she didn’t know who he was under the mask.
Oh well, he figured eventually he’d get around to it or at least that’s what he told himself as he stood beside Y/N on her balcony, looking out at the city.
Something was different tonight. She was quieter than normal tonight, hardly saying a word, and when she did, Peter could tell that she was using all her might just to speak them.
But he didn’t pressure her to talk, instead he let the ambience from the city lull the silence between them until…
“Can I ask you a question, Spider-man?”
He briefly glanced over at her, watching her obsessively rub at her eyebrow line, like there was an itch there that wouldn’t go away. “Sure.”
Peter patiently watches her as she continues her ministrations to her forehead in what looks like contemplation.
“Do you ever think about quitting being Spider-Man?”
The words washed over him with an icy realization, doused in cold water when you least expected it.
He turned away from her, the mask’s optical slits seemingly staring at nothing as his real eyes danced over all the lights of New York. Instinctively, he wanted to reply with some light hearted notion of ‘Of course not! I do this to help people, I could never regret that!’ and while part of that was true, it wasn’t so simple as that.
So he relented, “Sometimes.”
Peter doesn’t see the way Y/N’s shoulders shake as he thinks.
He sighs, “Sometimes I think about what would happen if I just put down the mask and tried to live as a civilian. Maybe I’d finally settle down to one job, maybe I could spend time with my family, maybe…maybe I could be like everybody else.”
Over the years, Peter thought about this many times, but to actually say the words out loud was different. The guilt hung on his heart like a weight, causing him to somewhat regret saying them at all.
Still, he looks on at the city he protects.
“But,” He continues, “I can’t allow people to suffer or die when I have the power to save them. That’s the point of Spider-Man; always has been.”
The words bring a levity to his resolution. Being Spider-Man is hard, one of the hardest things he’s ever done in his life, however, he is not blind to how he has impacted the city, people’s lives, and so he will continue to fight for them. Not only to save their lives, but maybe save their hearts too.
Finally, Peter turned to look over to Y/N, who was shaking with harsh sobs, face glistening with fresh tears.
“Ah!” He yelped, the panic prickling his skin as he took a rushed step toward her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry! Gosh, I’m so stupid… ”
Y/N shakes her head, wiping the tears away from her cheeks only to make room for more.
Peter raises his arms out, wanting to hold her, but isn’t sure if he should.
“I’m scared for you, you know.” She mutters.
He pauses, arms lowering to his side. “What?”
Heaving in tearful exhaustion, Y/N looks up at him, exposing the redness of her eyes and stained face to him. Peter feels his throat ache at the sight.
“I’m scared for you, scared of what could become of you.” She confesses, hands fidgety up and down, going from her face to her sides and back up again because she just doesn’t know what else to do with them.
Peter’s mouth hangs slack, frozen in its shock when Y/N huffs with despair.
“I know that I don't know who you are but I know that you are a person under that mask and as strange as it may seem, I want you to be happy, safe because with all you’ve given to this city, you deserve peace.”
She punctuates her last word with a sob that rips through her without any warning before she buries her face into her hands, fully letting out the twisted emotions with no hesitation.
All it takes is a few seconds, not even that, for Peter to step closer, arms raised then wrapping snugly around her trembling form. She doesn’t resist or pull away, she only folds herself into him.
He buries his face into her shoulder, his mouth dry, throat squeezing on itself, vision blurring with the threat of crying. There are so many things he wants to say, admit; his own fears, his loneliness, his anger, sadness, regret, love, and care.
He doesn’t know where to start so instead he says the one thing that might matter the most right now.
“Thank you.”