Chapter Text
December, 2024.
The city streets are absolutely full of Christmas decorations. The whole city looks so alive and happy, like a freaking postcard. Honestly, I’d be soaking it all in if my hip didn't hurt like hell and the cut on my forehead wasn't itching like crazy. I know it means it’s healing, but oh boy, it takes everything in me not to rip off the bandage and scratch it.
It’s been over a month since I woke up all bruised and battered. By the time I actually came to, MJ, Ned, and I were standing right by the Statue of Liberty, feeling absolutely horrible while the EMTs checked us over. We had somehow gotten caught in the middle of a shitshow, and Spider-Man had swooped in to save the day. The catch? None of us could piece together what we were even doing there or how we'd ended up in the middle of crossfire. The doctors called it a textbook trauma response. I mean, it makes sense; the whole area was a warzone, but something still felt off.
Thank God we were the only ones out there.
The bruises finally cleared up. Life is about small victories, right? And, at least, I won’t look like a walking punching bag in the family Christmas photos.
The sidewalks are completely jammed, and the snow hasn’t stopped since last night; now it's falling slower. With Christmas right around the corner, the city is just overflowing, a mix of tourists moving and stressed-out last-minute shoppers. If MJ were here right now, she’d probably drop some scathing, cynical remark. It’d be brutal, but honestly, she’d be spot on.
MJ landed a part-time job; the base pay is not great, but the tips are starting to pick up. Plus, it’s a donut shop, which gives us a place to hang out and kill time before they both head out to start freshman year at MIT. So yeah, despite the nightmare traffic and the sea of people freezing on the sidewalks, I dragged myself out of the house.
Ned texted saying he was running late, but neither MJ nor I called him out on it.
I brushed the melting snow off my shoulders before stepping into the cozy little shop, instantly hit by that familiar smell of hot coffee and glazed donuts.
"Hey!" I called out, dodging a guy who was just hovering right by the entrance, and headed straight for my usual stool at the counter. "Ned’s late. Again."
"Probably still calibrating his homemade spider-catcher grid," MJ shot back, without even looking up or slowing down her rhythm behind the counter. A minute later, she slid a piping hot coffee right in front of me. "Did he tell you he wants to pitch it as an official engineering thesis the second we get through orientation?"
"Seriously? He didn't, tho. Probably because he knows it’s not exactly the kind of tech MIT throws funding at. Do you think stuff like that even exists yet?"
"Oh, absolutely," MJ said, her voice dropping into full deadpan. "I read on Reddit that ever since SHIELD had to dump all their data leaks onto the web years ago, they’ve been beta-testing insane surveillance tech just to track and monitor threats. Some people even say those giant sky-orbs are scraping our audio logs just for fun. You hear that, Fed? I know you’re listening." MJ tapped the phone inside her apron pocket, making me laugh.
The bell above the door chimed, making us both look up. Ned had just walked in, but that same guy from before was still standing there by the door. He wasn't saying a word, just... watching us.
Look, MJ is a loud, zero-filter conspiracy theorist. I’m used to it by now, so it doesn't surprise me, but it definitely throws people off. This kid, holding a piece of paper, was smiling as he’d just overheard the funniest joke in the world. Ned squeezed past him, pulling our attention back to our own huddle, away from the frozen customer who was low-key starting to give off major NPC stalker vibes.
The espresso machine hissed, and MJ quickly grabbed a cup and a lid to pour a fresh brew.
"Coffee for Peter Parker!" she called out, stepping away from us to hand over the order.
"Are you hyped for next semester?" Ned asked the second he slid onto the stool next to me, immediately snagging one of the donuts MJ had set aside for us.
"Yeah. I mean, it’s not MIT, but I’m really excited. The program is incredible, and my parents are helping me out with rent so I can live close to campus, which is a huge plus." I replied. In the end, that MIT acceptance letter I’d sweated over turned out to be a rejection. So, yeah, we wouldn't be together for the next few years, but ESU was still a phenomenal backup plan. "They say Professor Banner is actually gonna start something there, and my internship with Stark Corp is locked in... so it really was the best move."
"I still can't believe you landed that Stark internship. Isn't that track strictly reserved for upperclassmen with published research?"
"Perks of being a certified genius," I shrugged, flashing him a smug grin. I was totally trying to push his buttons, and it definitely worked because Ned just rolled his eyes before taking a massive bite of his donut.
"You actually gonna make the trip and come visit us, right?" MJ chimed back in, a genuine smile breaking through her usual stoic face. She was visibly excited.
"I’ll try. Promise."
Ned and MJ immediately dove into a deep and detailed talk about MIT housing and classes; they both were excited since the moment their acceptance letters arrived, and I was happy for them. As I looked past them, I noticed the guy, Peter, as MJ had called him, was still standing there. His eyes were locked on us. He looked at MJ, then at Ned, and finally, his gaze landed on me. For a second, we just stared at each other in total silence, eye-to-eye, and my stomach suddenly did that weird, hollow flip.
It was that same feeling I’d had since the moment I woke up at the Statue of Liberty. The one I wake up to every single morning. Just empty. Weird. Like something massive is missing, but I can’t for still figure out what it is. It never totally fades; sometimes I just stop paying attention to it until my mind resings, and I stopped overthinking it, too.
Peter smiled, raising his hand in a quiet, bittersweet wave, almost like he was saying goodbye to old friends, and took a slow sip of his hot coffee.
"Merry Christmas," he said. His voice was soft, and the words came slowly, like he was trying to stretch the second out for as long as possible.
I just smiled back. Because honestly, what else do you do when someone wishes you a Merry Christmas? And with that, he turned around and walked out into the snow, and for the rest of the day I couldn't stop myself from feeling off. From looking back at the doors, as if the answer would come to me.