"Don't be mad? Are you insane, or suicidal? Because I am one wrong word away from finding something I can use as a shank and stabbing you, Peter fucking Parker!"

Violet didn't care how loud she was. They were on top of a rooftop in bustling Queens, where cars drove by loudly and people chatted loudly because they could. She could barely hear herself scream.

"Stop! Let me explain! I was going to tell you, but it's a lot more complicated than me getting in a tight get-up!" Peter urged, his eyebrows pressing down in frustration. The last thing he needed in this important moment, but he tried not to let his own emotions show. He didn't need to anger her even more. Violet was a blazing flame at all times, and arguing back was a great way to add water to a grease fire.

She took a deep breath before simply hopping up on the ledge of the building, facing away from the street and kicking her legs. "Okay. I will not talk for one minute. If I do, you have permission to push me off of this roof."

He gave her a blank look. "I'm not pushing you off a roof."

"At this point, I would beg for you to, because what the fuck? Minute starts now, buddy."

The words seemed to come out in a jumble, but she managed to catch most of it. Bitten by a genetically-modified spider his father created, gave him super-good reflexes and senses. Started accepting it the day he embarrassed Flash in the gym. Saw her get hurt, and now he was fighting crime.

Okay, the minute was over early.

"I' m sorry, you kick ass nightly because I foolishly got shot?" She snapped, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

Peter noticed, rubbing the back of his neck and absently kicked the ground. Then, he decided to argue back. "Listen, Violet. I saw that night. I saw that man rob that store like it was nothing, running away after shooting you like it wasn't anything. That's how Queens is every night. Murders, assaults, robberies. I mean, you just barely got out of the way of being arrested for shoplifting! You're welcome, you absolute idiot!" He couldn't help but snap back, crossing his arms like a disappointed mother.

She hopped off of the ledge, her finger pointing accusingly as she stepped forward. "Don't talk about me like I'm stupid, Peter. I'm not stupid, and I can care for myself. I don't need you fighting crime solely because you think I am just a victim and suddenly every helpless person reminds you of me!"

"Oh, so you can dodge a bullet, Violet? If a man tried to hustle you for the expensive stuff you shoved in your pockets, with a knife to your throat, could you defend yourself? You are five foot four and one hundred and thirty pounds, with no background in fighting or anything. I have everything I need to protect you, to protect people like you, I don't need scolding for being a good person!" Peter defended, stepping forward until her accusing finger was pressing into the tight material of his Spider-Man suit. The wind blew through his unruly brown hair, sweeping it backwards, and she stared up at him.

And then she raised a hand, bringing the side of her fist towards his chest.

He simply grabbed her wrist, before grabbing the next punch that came hurtling his way. "Violet, please stop. Really, it's embarrassing. I have Spider-Man senses," he deadpanned, giving her a look with one eyebrow cocked up. The smaller girl glanced up at him with nothing but anguish in her eyes, and his head tilted in slight guilt, slight confusion. "What's wrong, Vi?"

The girl took a deep breath, before pulling her arms away from his grip, which he simply let happen. He doubted she'd try to hit him again. "Everybody thinks I can't handle everything. My mom, my dad, you. I'm stronger than I look, you know," she mumbled, giving him a saddened, unknowingly puppy-eyed expression.

Peter sighed, taking soft steps forward before pulling her close, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to his chest. "I know you are. Believe me, I've seen you defend yourself with words, I have no doubt your fists'd be just as deadly. I don't do this solely because you got shot. I do this because there are people not as strong as you. There are people out there that need people like you and I. I have a gift that needs to be used for more than crazy basketball shots."

The breath that left her mouth was shuddering, and she let herself, for once, sink into touch. His body was warm, as it always seemed to be, and the hug was nothing but reassuring. She knew in her heart that Peter Parker was nothing but a good guy, and he did nothing in ill will. If she had to pick anybody she knew to protect the people that needed it, she would choose him. She'd always choose him.

After a second of finally being silent for once in her life, she took a step back, her hands still gently placed on his waist as she glanced up at him. "I want to fight. I want to be able to protect myself. Will you help me?"

A goofy grin spread across his face. "You just want a suit as cool as mine."

━━━━

A few hours later, the two were in an abandoned warehouse, old mattresses spread across the floor. Peter had spent a bit trying to refresh Violet's gymnastics training from her younger years, and in a bit she had recalled a perfect front-flip, backflip and round-off. She had always been a fast learner, and even faster when bringing up old tricks.

Despite already sweating when she had perfected her flips and proved that she could do them both on solid and un-solid ground, Peter insisted they continue. "If you plan on getting this mastered quickly, we need to get you as prepared as possible this first go. We are going until I have to carry you home. Not because you're hurt, of course, but because you're tired. I'd never hurt you. Not intentionally. If I did unintentionally, I'd apologize. Profusely. You know?" He tilted his head, running his fingers through the mess on his head.

Violet stared at him. "Okay, The Notebook. Can we get started? I want to punch you."

"Brave of you to assume I'd let it happen! Anyways, when you punch, a common misconception of the fist is that your thumb goes under your fingers. Only rule, don't do that. You'll break your thumb and have a crooked one for the rest of your life. Curl your fingertips towards your palm, curl your thumb over your fingers. Punch with your knuckle first. It'll hurt when you punch someone, so be prepared. Not me, because I'm not letting you punch me too hard, but still."

While he explained how to form a proper fist, he gently grabbed her hand, curling her fingers properly until he was satisfied. His soft touch made Violet squirm with the small flutters it sent down her arm, and she glanced up at his face. Concentrated, his eyes squinted slightly, and she knew it was because his contacts were a bit outdated and he needed a better prescription. He hunched slightly to be able to reach her comfortably, and she finally noticed just how broad his shoulders were, fitting his frame nicely.

Shit, did she have a thing for guys with savior complexes?

The minute he stepped back and was talking about punching, she sent the thought out of her head on a paper airplane, and then sent her fist directly towards his face. Despite expecting him to sense it and react, her knuckles collided with the face she had been studying just moments before, sending ripples of pain up her arm, following the same path the flutters had just gone. Peter seemed just as unprepared as she had been, stumbling backwards due to the strength of the punch. To add insult to injury, he tripped on the squishy ground of the mattress, sending him to the floor where he sprawled out inelegantly.

"What the fuck, Parker?" Violet barked, as if it was his fault, running to his aid and leaning down to glance at his face. Sure enough, the spot she had hit was already starting to bruise, only a dark red color now, but soon to become a nice purple. "Are you okay?"

He groaned pitifully, his eyes closed tightly, more out of embarrassment than pain. "My God, can you pack a punch. Nevermind about me being worried that you couldn't defend yourself. You could fight off Superman himself, Jesus Christ."

She rolled her eyes as she helped him sit up, before moving to cup his jaw, tilting his head up so she could get a better look in the bad lighting. When his lips twitched up into a cocky smile, she furrowed her eyebrows. "What?"

"You're touching me. You don't like touch," he recalled, before leaning into her touch with a small tilt of his head. "Let me savor it while I can." The last part came out as a mumble, and his eyes fluttered closed.

Another roll of her eyes followed, but she kept her hand there, gently stroking the spot where her knuckles had connected with his jaw. She admired the way he seemed so content right there, leaning into her touch, before letting her eyes trace across his face endearingly. He had been the only person she had let get this close in a while, and they had only been friends for a couple of weeks. Something about Peter Parker just made you want to open up your heart and soul and spill it out for him to look through and cherish in his own little special way.

After a moment, she gently patted his face before standing up, holding out her arm. "C'mon, Bug Boy. Time for more hits and bruises, I need to be able to kick proper ass."

Peter took a hold of her hand, pulling himself up and brushing off his suit. "Bug Boy?"

Violet gave him a look. "I'm not calling you fucking Spider-Man."

"It's a cool name, you know!" He whined, before rolling his eyes. "C'mon. Let's get out of here and go home, you need some sleep. So do I. We got school tomorrow, remember?" He gave her a grin, referring back to before when she had argued about not staying home for one more day.

She nodded, all of the things that had happened that day suddenly crashing down on her now that she wasn't busy throwing punches and doing flips. The wound on her side ached at the exertion, and remembering that her dad was suddenly alive and had been doing well made her want to just sleep for decades. What she needed was some good sleep and then to throw herself so deep into her studies that she spoke nothing but calculus and biochemistry equations.

Once Peter had slipped his mask back over his face, hiding his handsome futures and his unruly hair, they took a couple steps outside before he took a glance at her. "You ready?" Without getting an answer, because he knew it would've been a sure 'no,' he wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, before simply raising his arm to the air and connecting a web to the highest building he could see.

A loud yelp left her lips as she was suddenly off the ground, and she managed to wrap her legs as tightly as she could around Peter's thighs to keep herself pressed up against him. She wasn't scared of heights, or her friend's abilities, but the idea of dropping to her death was not as pleasing as swinging freely through open air over the lit streets of Queens.

After wind swept through her hair for a couple of minutes, she dared to peel open her eyes, glancing up at Peter as he continued to shoot webs at different buildings so that they constantly stayed in the air. His feet swung out before him so that he could use the momentum to propel himself forward, and despite what could be seen as harrowing circumstances, his masked face seemed free of worries.

It was only a bit longer until they finally made it on Peter's street, and he landed beside his house with a firm planting of his feet, as if he had been doing it his whole life. "You can let go of me now," he taunted when Violet stayed clung to his side, and she huffed as she slowly untangled her legs from around him so she could put her feet on the ground, albeit shakily.

"I swear you prefer to swing just so you can feel my body against yours," she snapped, trying to mask that she enjoyed it for that reason.

"Guilty as charged, darling," he shot back, before nudging her side. "In about five minutes, walk through the front door. I have to go through my window and get de-suited." Before she could speak, he shot a web to right above his window, running towards the wall and climbing up it like it was nothing before opening his window and slipping through it.

She waited for what she assumed was five minutes before grabbing her stuff out of the foliage in the front, knocking on the door before slowly opening it. "Peter? Aunt May? Uncle Ben? Parkers?" She called softly, taking a step in.

Aunt May rounded the corner from the kitchen, wiping her hands off on a hand towel. She assumed she had been cleaning the dishes that had been dirtied from dinner. "Violet, sweetie! What are you doing here, it's late!"

Peter stomped his way down the stairs a few moments later, now dressed in some baggy grey sweatpants and a long, black shirt with some band logo sprawled across the front in grey. "Violet? What are you doing here?" The question was half-genuine. He had known she wanted to stay at his house for a bit, had excitedly agreed, but she had refused to tell him the full story until she told it to his aunt and uncle. It was too hurtful of a story to tell twice.

"Um. So... my dad's back. After being gone since I was ten and presumed dead by me and my mother. At least, I thought my mother didn't know. Apparently she did. It's a.... Really long story. But I was wondering if I could stay here for a few days? I really hate to pry, and I promise you don't have to worry about cooking for me or cleaning after me, but I don't want to stay in my house while this is all going on and I have nowhere else to go." By the end of her rushed explanation, she choked down the sob that rose at the back of her throat, and rubbed her lips together anxiously. She hated asking for help.

Peter's eyebrows turned down in a sad, pitiful look that made her stomach turn, and her eyes turned to the ground at the exact same time his turned to Aunt May's to silently plead with her.

But the older woman didn't need any pleading, with the kind heart she had. She was at Violet's side in just a few steps, wrapping her arms around her tightly in a motherly hug. "Oh, honey, of course! You can stay here whenever you'd like, even without any issues. I've always wanted a daughter," she added sweetly, giving her and then Peter a look.

Nice of her to refer to Peter as a son to her, but really perplexing how she managed to find out Violet's feelings so quickly.

"Alrighty, that's enough, Aunt May!" The boy cheerfully responded, trying to push off the remark as he stepped forward and grabbed one of Violet's bags, tossing it over his shoulder. "Come on, Vi, you can have my bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

Before she could respond, Aunt May cut in again. "Oh, Peter, this isn't middle school, and don't act like I don't know you guys have slept in the same bed before. I trust you both. Get up there, you two, you have school in the morning. Sleep well, and let me know if you need anything, okay?" The question was directed towards Violet, who nodded with a smile before grabbing the rest of her stuff and scampering up the stairs behind Peter.

When they were safely inside Peter's room with the door engineered to lock, she wheeled on him, her eyebrows raised. "Your aunt thinks we're a thing?"

He snickered. "If your eyebrows raised any higher, they'd be a part of your hairline. C'mon, Violet, is that really such a bad thing?" It seemed like he asked the question before he could think about it, and when he realized it, he ran his fingers through his hair before turning around, sighing heavily.

"What do you mean by that?" Wow, gold star to Violet for always asking the heavy questions.

"Nothing, Vi. Just a little joking thing. C'mon, let's get to bed. We have school tomorrow."

God, she was getting tired of hearing that. Ignoring the little pinch in her side that was curiosity, she simply climbed into Peter's bed as he turned off the lights. She slipped beneath the candy cane-colored comforter, letting her head fall on the edge of the one pillow Peter had, giving him space for his own. The signature scent of his cologne clung to the bed, and she took a deep exhale to try and soothe her brain.

It wasn't long before her lanky friend slid beneath the covers next to her, the absence of a buffer between them doing nothing to keep his body heat from radiating straight towards her. The heat, plus the intoxicating smell of him, plus the thoughts of the question he had asked and how caring he had been that night made her heart start to race, and she clenched her eyes shut tightly.

The last thing she needed with the shit she was going through was to gain a schoolgirl crush on the only person she had let close in a bit, and she wanted nothing more for her to be able to control her emotions. So, she tried thinking about something less daunting, only to come up with the situation of her father.

God, her father. Gone for seven years and then waltzed in like nothing had happened. She knew that some time she had to go home and speak to him, or speak with her mother, and the thought made her heart race more than it already was. Her chest tightened, and she took a shuddering breath.

"Violet? Are you okay?" Peter mumbled from next to her, and she could feel his eyes on the back of her head. "Your heartbeat and breathing changed."

Damn his caring attitude and his spider senses, ratting her out. "I was thinking about my dad," she replied, because it would probably just hurt her more to lie to him. With her tiredness and everything that had occurred in the past week, she found tears welling into her eyes again, and a small squeak slipped through her lips in place of the sob.

An arm wrapped around her waist, and she was pulled closer to the inviting warmth of Peter until her hand was pressed against his chest. She nuzzled her face into his shoulder as she finally let her emotions show, sobbing into his shoulder. "I want it over. I don't want to have to deal with this, not now," she whimpered, trying hard not to curse herself for the weak words.

His chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh, and he nodded. "I know, darling. But don't worry, okay? You'll get through it. You're the strongest person I know, and I'm not just talking physically." His chest rumbled with the remnants of a laugh that never left his lips. "And I'll be right here during all of it. I'm not going anywhere."

She leaned back a little bit before looking up at him. "I'm glad." She reached up to wipe her eyes before continuing.

"Because without you, I might just fall apart."