(Okay so in this short story - idk what to call them?? - MJ knows Peter's Spiderman.
Trigger Warnings: Violence I guess? But if you've gotten this far, you probably don't care much, so...continue.)

"Bye Ned!" Peter waved behind him as he ran. "See you MJ!"

He heard distant yells telling him not to die, which might have been them teasing any other friend. But, in his case, they probably meant it very literally. He was going off to be a web-slinging vigilante at the moment, so it wouldn't be surprising. He was excited, because Fridays were short days, so he could do his homework after patrol instead of before.

He leaped over the tall fence behind school after making sure there was no one there. The jump gave him a rush of adrenaline and he grinned. He ran down his seemingly private alley, that nobody was ever in for some reason, and webbed his backpack to the wall. And please stay there this time, he pleaded silently. If it got stolen or dumped in a garbage again, Aunt May was going to kill him.

He slipped off his sweatshirt to reveal his spidey suit underneath. No gym that day, which meant no changing room, so he got to do it the easy way. His mask was soon on, pants and sweatshirt webbed beside his bag. In minutes, Spiderman was swinging his way down town (webbing fast, lol).

It wasn't long before he heard sirens and got to work.

The first one was a fire. It was pretty big, engulfing half of an apartment building. Peter swallowed, sudden flashback of the last fire he had tried to help with searing his mind. He quickly pushed it away. Not the time, Parker. There were people that needed help in there. He could already hear them yelling and screaming. The fire department was trying hard, but it was a thick fire and a tall building.

An abrupt screech caught his attention. It was from a window nearby, a young man trying to help his mother through the smoke. Peter swung in, hastily telling Karen to turn on his crappy homemade air filters. Mr. Stark hadn't put everything in his suit, as it turned out so he had to improvise.

Both of them looked up, hope shinning in their eyes as Peter dropped next to them.

"Here," the boy, not much older than himself, pushed his mother towards Peter. "Take her first. Please."

Peter nodded and scooped the woman up in his arms, making sure the boy stuck near the window. He dropped her off on the ground with the paramedics and climbed back up for the young man. Other than them there were six more people he managed to pull out and, thanks to it being the middle of the day, there wasn't anyone else. Everyone was at work or school. He waved to a small pair of twins and their nanny as he swung away. A grin split his face under the mask. He normally couldn't get to everyone in fires, especially night ones that happen most often and people are caught asleep. But this one had been a complete success. It almost would have made up for what happened later.

He saved a cat from a tree for a little girl. He managed to sort out an surging trade between a hot dog vendor and a customer. He stopped three muggers and a few drunk idiots from trying to 'rob' a convenience store. By then the sun had gone down, leaving the spider to look for crime in darkness, which was when it normally happened anyways. There was never much action in the daytime, for which he was grateful for.

"There's a robbery in progress just to your left," Karen informed him.

An alarm went off at a nearby bank and three masked men ran out, bags stashed with money, automatic guns in their hands. They obviously thought they were going to get away. One was laughing and waving his weapon around. There was no way the police could get there in time. So, your friendly neighborhood Spiderman jumped into action.

"Hey," he yelled, webbing a garbage can and tossing it there way. "You forgot your change!"

The men shouted in surprise and dodged away, one dropping their gun and the others dropping their money.

"Shit!" The apparent leader swore and hefted his weapon.

Peter smirked. "Language."

The man made to pull the trigger, but Peter's spidey sense flared and he reacted faster, webbing the muzzle of the gun and ripping it away.

"Come on," he complained, as the other man started to shoot, forcing the teen to dive the bullets. "Can't we fight like civilized spiders and bank robbers?"

The man didn't respond. Peter ducked below his gun and gave him a swift upper cut that knocked the thief out.

"I guess not," he murmured.

The man who had dropped his gun earlier scooped it up with shaking hands and pointed it at the hero. Peter raised an eyebrow beneath his mask.

"You sure you wanna do that buddy?" He nudged the robber's friend that lay at his feet.

The thief with the gun paled and looked at the leader uncertainty.

"Well? Shoot 'im!" The leader answered and turned heel to run.

"Dude, just drop the gun," Peter offered as soon as the other guy had left. The man sighed and threw it down, putting his hands up.

Well that makes my job easier, Peter thought and webbed him in a cocoon, along with his friend. He swung down the street, searching for the last man. The thing that gave him away was the light of his phone. Who was dumb enough to hide in an alleyway with their brightness all the way up? The man seemed to be talking to someone, asking for a getaway.

"Sorry, your Uber was cancelled," Peter quipped and dropped down near him.

The man swore and growled, drawing a handgun Spiderman hadn't known her had. The man pointed it at the hero, looking royally pissed off, phone still up to his ear. Peter rolled his eyes, not noticing the young woman passed by the mouth of the ally until the man grinned and moved the muzzle of the gun to her.

"No!" Peter shouted and launched his feet at the guy.

The man flew back and hit the wall with an ugly crack. His body went limp and the phone fell out of his hand. The woman hadn't noticed anything had happened and continued on her way. Peter, on the other hand, had went stiff.

Maybe his gun shattered on the concrete...? Peter begged to whatever god that would listen that that were the case.

He crept up to the man and crouched down beside him. "Karen is he...?"

"His neck is broken," she answered, understanding what he was asking.

"So is he...?" Peter once again couldn't find the courage to voice the question.

"He's dead," Karen confessed.

"W-what?" Peter stuttered, breathing quickening. "H-he–I killed–he's dead?"

"It appears so."

Peter started to hyperventilate. Oh shit, oh shit, ohshitohshitohshit. No, no. This couldn't be happening. Peter wasn't a killer. But, now he was? No! He had to save that woman! It-it hadn't been his fault, had it?

"Peter, your heart rate has excellerated to a abnormally high level. Shall I call Mr. Stark?"

"No!" Mr. Stark couldn't know about this. He would be do disappointed and would probably hand him over to the police for murder. Maybe he should be in jail though... "No, don't call him."

The man's lifeless eyes stared up at him. Shit. What was he supposed to do? Tears pricked his eyes and snakes their way given his face under the mask. Peter had never meant to kill anyone. He didn't want this. Yet it was all his fault.

"Godamnit!" He screamed and punched the wall, voice cracking along with his knuckle. He immediately remembered where he was and looked around to make sure no one had heard. He gasped for breaths. He had to get out of there. Can't have a mental breakdown in an alleyway, Parker, he weakly joked with himself and ran. Ran out and far away from wherever he had just been. Don't look back. Don't look back. Almost there. Look there's your apartment.

His vision was blurry as he swung up and inside his window. It was only ten o'clock, but he didn't care. He choked on his own sobs and hugged his knees tightly. He had just–

He had just killed a man.

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Oof angst time. I mean, fluff is great, but...angst. Is he gonna tell anyone? Will the cops find out? What about Tony? I dunno. You just gotta find out I guess.
Comments and stuff, you know the drill. It's all great and appreciated, blah blah blah.
Anyways, hope you guys like the chapter I will see you (write for you?) later.

- Wanda