Chapter Text
Peter could distinctly remember the moment when Spider-man took over from Peter Parker.
What he couldn’t do was pinpoint exactly when Peter Parker faded out of existence altogether leaving only a nameless figure behind the mask. It was like trying to figure out if an eighties song had finally finished or if your hearing had dramatically gotten worse over the previous thirty seconds.
He could tell you that parts of himself had been forgotten but he couldn’t tell you what was lost and when that pile had gotten bigger than what he remembered. Peter didn’t dare think of what his fate would’ve been if a misunderstood mutant hadn’t terrorised the whole city.
He was on a one track train to become a shell of himself. While he wasn’t ready to fully face the music just yet after his experience in the warehouse If a few notes slipped into his ears he wouldn’t be partial to a small listen.
For years now his role as spider man had taken precedence and Peter Parker had become nothing but a nuisance. A host to simply feed and water and rest when he could catch more than just a couple minutes.
Now theoretically Peter knew New York had survived without him pre-spider but he wasn’t dumb. He might barely have a slightly forged high school diploma- courtesy of EV, but he didn't need any of it to notice how awfully reliant the NYPD had become on him.
Abandoning them just to look after Peter Parker felt seemingly stupid when Spider-Man could be out there saving the lives of so many more. After the Spider-Man equivalent of bedrest had been lifted by Captain DeWolff he had thrown himself back into his work almost harder than before despite Frank’s poorly disguised worrying.
Once again Peter found himself battered and bruised half swing half crawling through his studio window.
He’d brought a few lamps a week ago in preparation for Michelle- MJ’s visit so now the place was lit in a warm glow yet the added light added insult to injury as he was forced to confront the cuts and wounds that littered his tired skin.
He methodically went through the motions of cleaning his wounds with the bare minimum. He wasn’t stupid the last thing he needed now was an infection to finish him off. Despite his quick healing without treatment they still scarred and now with slightly more frequent company Peter wished to avoid as many awkward conversations as possible.
Though with his track record he knew the world would find another way to bring them into fruition.
Antiseptic wipe, clean, butterfly stitch. Check for swelling, ice pack, wrap. Antiseptic wipe, clean…
Finally finished, he quickly cleaned up his desk chucking on the closest joggers and hoodie he could find on the floor next to the bed. Not even bothering to get under the sheets flopped onto the bed hoping sleep would take him only to be interrupted by his stomach growling. The painful kind that wouldn’t be ignored and forced you to actually get up to actually do something about it.
Damn it.
He would leave his apartment if he wasn’t so damn tired. His body ached, swinging was not an option with the state his shoulders were. His mind raced as he quickly shut down going out for a myriad of other reasons. The cacophony of the subway would have him in a sensory overload before he even stepped on the train, on top of that, the freezing autumn nights would make his bruised muscles ache even more with his new lack of warm blood.
Peter stuck an arm out, blindly reaching around for his phone cursing as he knocked it off the bedside table forcing him to actually get up and reach under the bed.
He collapsed back onto the bed for what he hoped would be the last time that night, god forbid a superhero wanted to sleep. Peter quickly swiped to recent calls clicking the top number out of the three available, he loved Dill’s pizza down the block so much his stomach growled in what he interpreted as appreciation as the call eventually went through.
Except any hopes of dinner anytime soon quickly died as he was met with the haunting realisation that his last call wasn’t a Dill’s Pizza worker but in fact MJ.
Crap.
Well at least it wasn’t Captain DeWolff. Only Thor knows how awkward that conversation would be.
He’d been over for lunch a few times now, each meeting lasting a little longer than before, and yesterday MJ had called to put a date in the calendar for her to finally visit his apartment but luckily for him that was two weeks away.
“Hey, Spider-man, you okay?” MJ’s voice crackled across the line but he could tell it was laced with concern.
“Gods, um this is really bad.”
“Do you need help or one of us to call the cops or something?”
“No no no it’s fine, I'm just Peter right now. This is just really embarrassing. I thought you were a pizza place.”
An exhale of relief echoed across the New York telephone lines.
“And to think I thought you were dying in a ditch or in a hostage situation at a bank.”
“Only one of those has happened before and I’m still here, he rolled onto his front his back protesting forcing a sharp breath to escape.”
He tried to cover it up, failing miserably, Now it’s all okay, be serious did i wake you up, I’m so sorry
“I was already awake and no, you of all people can't judge me for having a bad sleep schedule. Genuinely though, don't think I can’t hear you in pain about what's going on.”
“Oh nothing, just a hard night on patrol, someone’s gotta keep everyone intact. But apart that from I’m actually trying very hard to take care of myself, hence why I called the pizza place-”
“Tried to call the pizza place.” MJ retorted.
“Yes so I wouldn’t have to get up-” he reached to turn the lamp off but this time the bruising on his ribs had had enough and he cried out in pain.
A moment of silence passed between them, somehow more tense than his true reveal to her back at Frank’s. It stretched on for so long she thought Peter had fainted. In reality he was fully conscious and totally mortified.
“Oh my god I’m so sor-”
“Fuck, Peter don’t you even dare apologise to me.”
“I-”
“You know, what we said two weeks, but I think I’m gonna come over.”
“You mean now?” His voice raised an octave, this was absolutely not how Peter had planned MJs first visit.
“Yes, now.”
“Um I-”
“Please, I need to know your body is keeping everything where it should be, someone needs to make sure you’re intact” it was strange to hear the vulnerability coat MJ’s voice in softness. Yet the last thing Peter needed was for her to see his apartment for the absolute tip it was while he was on the verge of passing out from exhaustion or some sort of meltdown.
“If you wanted to come round and say hi you could’ve just said. It feels like this is starting to become a regular thing and I’ve got to be honest now's really not a great time.” He tried to joke but now his shoulders were aching again from holding his phone, after overdoing it on patrol, so his voice came out weaker than he’d like.
He put it down on the pillow next to him, speaker on, MJ’s voice filling the room.
“Peter, I'm being serious. Send me your address or I’ll shout really loudly and get EV to send it anyways.”
He immediately shoved the phone further away from him, Peter was already on edge, his spider senses had been acting up since he’d gone out that evening. Yet, her tone was persistent and Peter knew he’d already lost.
“Please, MJ, whatever you do, do not shout. I’ll ask EV to do it right now. I'm on the top floor, you won’t miss it.”
“I’m gonna stay on the line till I see you with my own eyes, okay.” MJ responded only partly satisfied. Peter could hear the rustle of her keys and the moment when the comfort of MJ’s apartment faded into the soundscape of a New York City night.
Minutes passed between them, it wasn't silent but a comfortable quiet settlement between them as MJ made her way over, eventually in his sleep-like state Peter gently broke it.
“Hey, Em?” It slipped out before he could stop it, barely registering what came out of his mouth.
“Em that’s a new one I don’t even want to know how sleep deprived you’re for that to come out. What were you gonna ask, flower-guy?” MJ laughed, his heart warmed, the sound washing over him, easing the pain ever so slightly.
“I can venmo you when you get here, but could you possibly please get some pizza on the way?” he asked shyly. The place was on the way but she was already coming all this way and he didn't want to be a nuisance. He didn't want MJ to think he was too much.
“You don’t need to venmo me, can’t have the people thinking I’m scamming spider man!” Peter could her footsteps stop for a second as she paused in disbelief.
“Whose the people?”
“Ned, duh.” Peter could almost hear MJ rolling her eyes playfully over the phone.
“That checks out, ”he responded a second too late for his words to not be loaded but now was really not the time to be focusing on semantics.
“I’ve brought some leftovers. I thought maybe something that was made of actual ingredients would get you back on your feet.”
“Hey, Dill’s is made from dough and-”
“And a bunch of stuff that means it will probably be around and edible until doomsday.”
“Fine,” he sighed, realizing he'd get to have the luxury of eating two home cooked meals in a week. Goodness, he was getting spoiled.
“Thanks so much MJ, I’m genuinely looking forward to that, you don’t even know.”
MJ humed in agreement and spent the rest of her walk trying to argue that Dill’s pizza has no nutritional value while Peter countered that the cheese, pepperoni, sauce and dough each matched a segment on the food wheel. She could tell he’d had this argument before, probably with Frank and eventually forfeited in an attempt to save her sanity.
“Just checking if it's the tall brown one, right?” she asked after finally reaching what she assumed to be his apartment. Google maps was playing up again and she really didn’t want to end up knocking on some stranger’s door.
“Yep, I’m sorry about the mess you're about to witness. I literally have no energy to get up and sort it, my plan was to web the door open and the pizza box to my bed but plans changed.” Peter dragged his hands over his face out of embarrassment
MJ told him she had probably seen worse at college as the elevator moved to the top floor. Peter hoped that would remain true after tonight.
Sooner than he expected there was a knock on the door so distinctly MJs he wasted no time shooting a web on the door handle and yanking it open.
She walked in her eyes scanning around the absolute state of the apartment until they landed on Peter. There were cardboard boxes littered around the place stacked high with books, blue prints on almost every surface and any space that was paper free was stolen by half drunk coffee cups.
“My god.”
The voice reverberated through both their phones as Peter's face flushed bright red. He fumbled to end the call pushing himself to sit up in bed, hoping this time would be the last.
“If your plan was to web the door open, how were you gonna shut it?” She kicked the door shut after nearly touching the web residue on the handle gross.
“I didn't think that far ahead I was hungry, okay?”
MJ wasn't stupid though, she could tell that hunger wasn't the only thing blurring his thoughts
“Mmk?” MJ pushed but Peter didn’t falter so she stalled trying a different way, after all a little bit of humour never made a hard conversation worse. “When I broke up with Paul last week I didn’t expect my nights to be spent cooking for another man.”
That sobered him up quickly, compassion coating his features as he just about stopped himself from reaching out to comfort her. “I didn't realise you had broken up.”
“Yeah” she paused trying to find the right words, she'd had this conversation before with ned but with Peter it was different,“I mean it was obvious that it wasn't gonna work out long term, but still I feel like I’ve wasted it all just ‘cause I couldn’t stop being withholding.”
“Um, not that I’m biased or anything,” he started, a smattering of red painting his cheeks, “but like I said before, your boyfriend sounded like a jerk. Personally, I think you would feel better with someone you’d actually want to call after basically being kidnapped, but that's just my opinion not that you asked for it,” he trailed off awkwardly.
MJ sent him a glare from the small kitchenette. Peter raised his hands and surrendered but he shuddered in pain as his shoulders rotated, “Gahh.”
The pasta was swiftly abandoned to rotate for eternity or however long ten minutes actually was in the microwave as MJ crossed the room, quickly standing above him.
“God, Peter what happened out there?”
She reached a gentle hand out to graze against his shoulder but his senses caused him to flinch so suddenly that MJ backed up into the wall behind her.
“Sorr-” Damn it, he’d only gone and scared her. That was literally the exact opposite of what he wanted to happen.
“Don't even, Peter, not now. Okay, seriously what happened?” She pressed on. It might have been a little over the top but since when was it a crime for a girl to worry about her forgotten boyfriend/old/new close friend when they came back beaten up from their patrol as a vigilante.
“I don't want to talk about it.” he replied sternly, adamant.
“Peter, please.” Her voice grew slightly louder, powered purely by her fear.
His hands reached for his ears as if on instinct, the sound hitting him like an explosion and yet MJ had barely raised her voice. He could hear the cars racing across the streets outside, the drip of the kitchen faucet from across the room, pigeons twittering about in the nest on his roof.
“You can go if you want.” he bites out his eyes are shut tightly as the back shrinks against the headboard.”I know this isn't exactly ideal.”
MJ could tell he was being defensive out of pain. They'd talked about the new sensory overloads he was experiencing but she hadn’t heard the harsh tone before, pushing her away.
“No, no I'm not going anywhere, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to be so loud I'm just worried about you.”
For Peter now was not the time to be blushing, but she’d just said she was worried about him, she actually cared.
“Can you give me three words, anything I can work with, I need to know what happened so i can make sure you're okay”
“Fine,” he grunted, “Scorpio, fall, ribs.”
“Thank you.” MJ carefully reached out to touch him. Her hands grazed his face and he felt like he was back in the boat yard.
Avoiding her gaze, he pulled up his jumper for a moment showing the extent of the bruising. His ribs were painted with deep purples and reds that stretched across both sides in a way that Peter just knew were not going to heal by tomorrow.
He watched her gasp and wince as she took the injuries in before he pulled the fabric down again. Apart from her knee she really couldn’t do much to help in terms of healing, he just needed to rest. Peter looked up at MJ before speaking, defeated.
“Look, I don't really want to think about it right now. You being here is helping me take my mind off things while everything heals and I appreciate it, trust me I really do, but please don’t push me. Not tonight, everything is just too much.”
For a moment Peter thought she might challenge him with the level of intense eye contact being held between them, but any points, as useful and true as they might have been, were foiled by the obnoxiously loud beep of the microwave.
MJ also noticed Peter twitch as the sharp noise pierced the room, she whispered a small apology that was met with a singular raised eyebrow as she brought the pasta filled tupperware over to the bed with two forks.
Peter was kind enough to scoot over a little allowing MJ to awkwardly perch on the edge of the bed, “you can sit on it properly, you know, you look like you’re in a showroom” he joked but his voice was almost non-existent and MJ had to channel her inner spider sense to hear him.
She shook her head before actually getting comfortable. With everything else in Peter's apartment being so artificial, she quickly got used to the memory foam mattress and the soft pillows she could just melt into. MJ understood completely why Peter hadn't left his bed.
They eat once again in silence, Peter's enthusiastic responses have slowly dwindled even though she can tell he's trying to be polite. She typed a quick message on her notes app before passing him the screen
We don't have to talk right now if you don't want to, i can the noise is a bit much, i can make sure you’re all intact quietly don't worry
Peter smiled and it's the first one MJ had seen that night. It's a little painful, and there's no teeth showing but she can tell it's genuine with the crinkle that formed around his eyes. After they'd both finished, with MJ stealing more bites than she intended under the guise of comfort eating, she washed the singular dish before returning.
She hadn't realised Peter's eyes had closed when she turned her back, he was half asleep sitting up, it looked uncomfortable at best. She whispered, “hey sleepy head, I think I might go now. I'll let you get some proper rest and I'll see you next week okay?”
Somehow that really woke him up he scrambled to get up stumbling to his feet.
“Woah, it's like 3am. I'm sorry but I don't think going home is a good idea right now.”
“Oh and walking here at 12 was any better,” she was trying to keep her voice down but the sarcasm was still just as punchy if not more through her quiet tone.
“I'm sorry for forcing you out here, I wasn't thinking properly. I'm sure you've noticed that by now.”
“You didn't force me, I came out of my own free will.”
“Yes but now we both know there's no spiderman out there protecting people. I want to make sure you're okay and letting you go out at this time would be doing the complete opposite.”
“So what do you propose then?”
“I'll take the couch.” Peter stated with conviction, like his idea actually made sense.
In this state of exhaustion MJ was surprisingly faster than him and blocked his path as he stumbled ungracefully across the room.
“Are you serious? I came here because you were injured. Did you really think I'm gonna let you sleep on a sofa that's at least a meter too short for you?”
“I-”
“I'll take the sofa then.” MJ sat down on the old couch immediately standing again after the springs creaked as if letting out its final breaths. Why did he even have this poor excuse of a couch when it was more comfortable to sit on a bed of nails?
“You don’t wanna sleep on that trust me it's the worst thing I've ever spent money on.”
MJ could only nod in agreement, her face unable to hide the disappointment in his choice of furnishings. How was it that Spider-man of all people was living like this with the worst couch in existence.
“And yet you just offered to sleep on it with a bruised rib and shit.”
“That’s different, it's my place,“ he mumbled in exasperation, honestly he didn’t care where slept, at this rate he would happily take the floor if it meant he could sleep sooner.
“We're both grown adults. I trust you, you trust me, we can share the bed. It's not going to be the end of the world.”
“I get nightmares,” he stated as an excuse, his eyes drooping.
“Okay, and?”
“I don't want to hurt you in my sleep,”
Oh, here he was about to literally pass out from sleep deprivation and he was still looking out for her.
“I don't think your subconscious would let you do that even if you tried.”
A beat passed between them.
“If you say so. You’ll wake me up if anything does happen okay?” he raised his finger with such sincerity MJ just had to return the pinky promise.
“I promise.” She replied and with their fingers still linked MJ led them back to the bed, finally pulling the sheets back as they got comfortable.
“Good night Peter,“she whispered, almost leaning in to kiss his hair but she stopped herself. Genuinely, what was up with her. She rolled over for a second to switch off the lamp beside the bed. It was pitch black but Peter still turned to face her as he spoke.
“Wait, do you want a blanket or something, or a t-shirt or…” he trailed off the sleep slowly taking him.
“Trust me, I’m all okay. Good night Peter, I’m watching out for you, sleep well.”
“Good night, Em, sweet dreams.”
While Peter fell asleep within minutes finally allowing his body to rest, MJ lay awake, confused as hell, by his side.
For him they must have fallen asleep together so many times this felt normal, but for MJ it felt like a step in a journey she didn’t even know she was taking. She’d visited out of pure necessity, fresh out of a break up for god's sake, she did not expect to end up sleeping next to him. Now, it wasn’t necessarily a problem but she hadn’t prepared for this and now future MJ was going to have a lot to unpack.
She had to pull it together, right now this wasn’t about MJs existential crisis. Tonight was about making sure Peter was actually okay. While the breathing next to her was slightly laboured it was constant and eventually lulled her to sleep, her dreams full of stolen moments and blank faces.
Tomorrow they'd talk about this over whatever breakfast they could pull together from his kitchen. It would be their third meal together in a week and MJ could get used to that.
Tomorrow she would talk to him about balance, about how Peter can call her whenever he just needs someone in his corner, about how even though her mind had been altered she really wasn’t going anywhere even if it wasn’t all like before. Peter didn’t have to perform around her, he didn’t have to be on stage all the time; he could be the mess in between Peter Parker and Spider-Man and she’d help him through it.
And if that meant months of more peaceful lunches where time seemed to stand still just for them, she’d gladly sit through them all.