Chapter Text
"Just because we've lost someone...it doesn't mean we have to do this alone."
"I have no one."
The world is still. Everything except Peter and Jean is frozen. In this moment, where Peter lets Jean into his mind and shows him a deeply intimate memory...a cherished one...the only thing in the world that exists is the two of them. Peter and Jean.
They sit on Peter's bed in his memory. He has taken his aunt's place, looking to Jean with such softness and adoration and understanding. He wraps an arm around her, pulling her close. Jean curls up into his side, head resting on his chest. Her ear is pressed to his heart, listening to it beat calmly and strongly.
"It's you and me, Jean," Peter whispers, "From now on...it's us."
She lets out a strangled cry. Relief, longing, delight. She feels a weight lift off her. She feels a sense of belonging settle over her. She hugs him tighter.
She's so caught up in having a family again she doesn't feel how Peter tenses against her. How dread settles in his core and how he looks to the distance, ears twitching as he hears a gun cocking outside the touch of Jean's power.
A resounding bang shatters the frozen world. In the next moment Peter's throwing himself at Jean. His body crashes into hers and he turns his back. She's wrapped in his arms, pulled tight against his chest. A force slams into him and they go sliding back a few feet.
Jean's power falls, glass poised to kill Metzger, painfully and slowly, crashes to the floor and shatters. The damage control agents bodies in their observation room fall slack. Everyone's gasping for air and struggling to recover. Across the city everything resumes. Jean feels it too, feels the way her power snaps off and everything begins again...but she doesn't care. Her thoughts belong only on Peter and her gaze only sees him.
Peter loosens his hold on Jean. He pushes her back a bit, looking her over intently, hands on her biceps.
"Hey, hey," He says breathlessly, gaze concerned and frantic, "You hurt?"
"No," Jean shakes her head, "I'm fine."
She feels something on her hand. A liquid, warm and congealed and thick, sticks to her fingers. She frowns slightly and shifts her head. Her gaze falls down to her hand. The warm red blood is stark against her cold pale hand. Immediately it begins to shake, fingers trembling. She looks to her bloodied hand with eyes blown wide. She looks up stiltedly and stiffly, peering into Peter's beaten and bloody face.
His breathing is ragged and pained but still he offers her a smile. It's small and pained and all him.
"I'm okay," He promises.
"Peter."
Jean blurts out his name, already shaking her head with desperation and terror.
"I'm okay," He says the words like a mantra, over and over and over again, "I'm okay, I'm okay."
"Peter-" But Jean silences herself because suddenly Peter goes down.
His body hits the ground hard. He falls like a puppet with its strings cut. Jean goes down with him. She collapses to her knees, hovering over him.
"Peter, Peter!" Jean cries.
She's over him, hands trembling and fretting about all over him. He's groaning and breathing with difficulty.
"No, no," She begs, "No, no, no, no, no. Peter!"
His eyes are fixed on the ceiling...on v-max. Blood begins to pool and form around him, Jean's dread mounting.
"Jean...you gotta get out of here...they'll be lookin' for you..." his voice dies off slightly at the end, words coming out stiltedly.
Terror she had only felt once before, when Sara was taken burns in her. In her veins, in her heart, in her soul. She's already feeling the loss of him and she can't stand it.
"No, no, no, no, no," Jean whimpers, "Please, just stay with me! Come on, hold on, please!" She screams.
"Jean..." He's looking right into her eyes now, "You're gonna be o-okay...just go. Get out."
"No!" She shakes her head, "I won't leave you! You promised! Please, you promised! It's us from now on, please, please don't go!" She's begging and blubbering and she feels like she's dying with him...because she knows...he is dying.
"I'm sorry," Peter reaches for her, trembling fingers tuck her hair behind her ear, hand gingerly caressing her cheek, "Jean...I'm sorry. Please just go...live."
Jean clasps his other hand tight, eyes practically glowing with intensity as she hisses, "Not without you."
He smiles at her. The smile is soft and adoring and pained. He looks to her as if she's the whole world, as if she's cherished. And then he stills. His smile tugs down into a relaxed, neutral line. His bright brilliant eyes begin to dull, the shine of light stolen from him. His hand falls from her face and onto his stomach with a deafening thud.
"No," Jean breaths, "No, no. No!" She screams, she hugs him, pulling him into her lap. She rocks Peter, screaming in anguish, "No, please!" She throws her head back, screaming and weeping, "Bring him back!" She begs she doesn't know who, "Give him back, please!"
But no one listens...no one responds. And like everything in her life...Jean knows she needs to do this herself. She looks to Peter with intensity. She throws her mind into his own and feels the coldness of death only...not quite. She feels the faintest thrum of life. She feels his lungs and heart as if they are her own. They're both scarcely moving, scarcely pumping. She controls his body, forces his organs to work in tandem with hers.
She retreats from his mind but keeps her control over his body steadfast. They breathe as one. They are one. One mind, one body, one soul, one life.
A distant and soft thud catches her attention. She tears her gaze away from Peter. Her gaze first settles on Metzger, he's watching her and Peter fearfully. Hate stirs in her briefly but she shoves it down to look to the source of the thud. She sees Frank Castle standing where a wall once had. He's frantically ripping off a parachute.
Realization hits Jean about as hard as that bullet hit Peter. She looks to Frank with eyes blown wide. He did this...he killed Peter...
Logically she knows Peter and Frank were working together. He was there when Peter fought the Hulk. She's seen into his mind too, felt his begrudging admiration and fondness for Peter. But none of that mattered anymore. He shot Peter, he tried to take him from her. She didn't trust him, couldn't trust him, not with Peter.
She glares at him warningly, he runs forward without a care. Damage control agents nervously surround Jean and Peter, raising weapons. They were surrounded and Jean didn't think she had the energy to freeze everyone again right now. Even if she did she didn't think she could risk leaving Peter.
"You saved me," Jean hissed at Peter, "And now...I'll save you," She swears...and then she pulls them to safety.
Jean has one sole desire. To get her and Peter out of there. And to keep him alive but the escaping bit is part of that same desire. They're not safe here...so they can no longer be here. Jean gathers whatever power she has left. She doesn't quite know what she's trying to do, she thinks she wants to jump into another mind but to physically jump. To take her and Peter, to disappear from here and reappear somewhere else. Probably to Ned and MJ that'd be smartest, they'd be able to help Peter. She doesn't think of anyone specific though, her power thrums and she wishes for her and Peter to jump away.
Her power burns and explodes around them in a burst of energy. Swirling colors, akin to flames, dance around them, red, orange, and burning white. The energy consumes Peter and Jean, it touches them...and it's warm. The energy comforts and consumes and promises safety.
The world warps around them. Jean's head hurts and she grows confused. She doesn't know which way is up, which way is down. She's lost her sense of direction, lost all of her senses, really. She ignores the growing pressure of the energy and the drain she feels on her power. She focuses instead entirely on Peter. She continues to breathe for them...and then everything goes blindingly white.
꧁ 🕸️ ༻ঌ 𖤍 ঌ༺ 🕸️ ꧂
Jean's power and light dies down.
She looks around with hazy eyes that she struggles to keep open. She's in an alley. The scent of sewer and trash assaults her senses, her eyes burn with tears as she holds back a gag. She realizes she's smelling and feeling everything so strongly because her senses are currently Peter's.
She feels exhaustion all the way into her bones. She feels heavy and lethargic. But she looks down to Peter, limp in her lap and she forgets all of that. She frantically checks him over, the bullet wound seems to almost be cauterized, the fabric of his suit burned into the wound. While that wasn't great, at least he wasn't bleeding any more. She focuses on him, she tries to block out the smell and distant sounds of sirens and instead just focuses on slowing her and his breathing. In her concern for Peter her strength is renewed. She hefts him into her arms, stumbling and dragging him deeper into the blood stained alley.
She reaches the end of the alley where a door resides. She hefts Peter up higher in her hold, holding him up with one arm while she muscles the door open with her free hand. She heaves Peter inside. It takes a few moments for her eyes to adjust, they're behind the screen in a clearly abandoned movie theatre. Or, she supposes it might not be abandoned but just incredibly not cared for.
Jean's energy wanes and her legs buckle. She catches herself in time though, refusing to let her or Peter fall. She moves him a bit closer to the screen and gently lays him down. She unbuttons her outer shirt, leaving her in just her thin long sleeve. She bunches up the article of clothing and slips it under Peter's head as a pillow.
Peter needs medical attention. Jean will do anything to get him it but for now...
Her eyes droop...
And she curls up against Peter, continuing to breathe for them both.
She is fast asleep when Peter's enhanced senses take control and his arm wraps around her. He pulls her close, three words echoing into the night.
"You have me."