╭ ╮
━━━━  " 📂 "

𝘼 𝙋 𝙊 𝘾 𝘼 𝙇 𝙔 𝙋 𝙎 𝙀

╰ ╯

SHE HADN'T FELT COMFORTABLE in hours. She kept glancing at the clock, praying that more time had passed than she thought and it would be an alright time for her to go to bed. But it never was, and she knew that if she slept now she would wake up too early in the morning when Queens was actually a little more quiet and the sound of cars in the street below couldn't interrupt her thoughts.

It was better to overthink with distractions available that she had no control of, rather than to wake up in a dark room feeling as though she couldn't dare to get up out of fear to interrupt her dad's sleep.

The minute hand on her clock was moving slower, she swore it was. Every time she looked up, only a couple of minutes had passed, and any larger chunk of time barely managed to reach the quarter-hour mark. But even the distractions she created for herself didn't help anything.

Upon getting back home, her dad had disappeared down to the bar to get rid of the ugly feeling of uselessness and the even worse feeling of being a bad parent simply because he had left the car to see what was going on, and when he looked back it was dangling from the suspension bridge. If Jack had been there, if they were coming back from his mom's as opposed to going, MJ would be sitting with them at that very moment, watching yet another Harry Potter, courtesy of Peter, of course.

But he knew MJ far too well, and when she instantly went to her room after stepping through into the threshold of the family apartment, it was confirmed she wouldn't emerge for the rest of the evening. So, John had left for the bar, and MJ was alone in her apartment once more, searching for something to keep her mind occupied.

She had settled on her Calculus homework. Math was by far her weakest subject - and whilst she wasn't particularly bad at it - it was clear she was excelling in areas like the sciences, history, and English. It was strange really, considering the sheer amount of math one would find in, say, chemistry. Any homework she received for math generally took her far longer to complete, with more effort going into trying to work things out, and so she had figured it would be the best distraction.

But as it turned out, all that time she took on it was mostly her getting distracted by other tasks and would take her forever to complete simply because she hated what she actually needed to do and would go to extreme lengths to do something else entirely.

Her concentration was wavering yet again, a simple glance at the dark green candle flickering beside her sending her mind hurtling back into the licking flames of the fire that engulfed her car, and MJ was quick to wet her fingers and put it out, watching blankly as one last twisting column of smoke rose from it.

Swallowing, she reached for her pen again, only for it to go clattering to the floor as she heard a small tapping sound on the panes of glass set in the window. She paused, heart thudding horribly as her mind went into overdrive and slowly, ever-so-slowly, she turned to look towards the window in front of the fire escape and felt something deflate inside her.

It was Spiderman - no, Peter. It was Peter, arms covered in red and blue spandex, the material stretching as he reached for the mask and pulled it off, an explosion of brown fluffy hair and a normal, albeit slightly bruised, face.

Slowly, feeling as though her feet were weighed down by bricks, she got up from her chair and trudged over to the window, fingers hooking beneath the two metal curves in the bottom and pushing it up. Peter finished the job, pushing it up the rest of the way, further than MJ had ever managed it.

"Hi." The boy swallowed, eyes flickering around the interior before landing on the girl, who wrapped her arms around her chest, eyes widen and rimmed with red. "Can I - er - can I come in?" He asked, hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck.

MJ didn't say anything, just took a step back and crossed the room to her desk chair again, the seat dipping the tiniest of bits as she sat on it once more. Her focus landed back on the sheet in front of her, pen between her index and middle finger of her left hand.

Peter hadn't moved since she let him in, but when she sat down again and the window was still open, he easily slipped inside without knocking anything off of the bookshelf below. Wary, he didn't take another step closer to her, instead keeping close to the perimeter, settling against the wall by the small three-tier trolley that was stacked full of plants and tiny figurines.

He could tell, really, just how tense she was, from the stiffness in her back and how tightly she was holding the pen as she flipped it from side to side. The room was still, not even the sound of her writing. The apartment was silent, no other sounds of life or light other than the small room she had confined herself to.

"Where's Jack?" He asked, voice do much louder than he thought, watching as her shoulders tightened, closing in on herself. Her hands were shaking.

MJ sat up a little, glancing over her shoulder for only a moment before turning back. "He's at his mom's... that's where we were going.. from my dad's work." She added, if it wasn't confusing enough. "That's why we were on the bridge."

"Yeah.." Peter glanced around, noticing how even the pull of his zip made her start and he faltered putting his mask away. "MJ.. does it bother you? Are.. are you scared of me?"

"What?" The brunette rounded on him, and he stood up straighter, watching as she faltered, gaze dropping to the floor and turning back to her desk. She had pushed the computer screen back so she had further room to work, and over her shoulder he could see a picture of her alongside Gwen at the Oscorp building, holding some sort of plaque. "No, Peter, I'm not - I'm not scared of you." She replied.

It was silent for a beat. "Then why won't you look at me?" He asked, words far too gentle for what they were.

MJ didn't reply, pulling her knees up to her chest, heels balancing in the edge of her chair. "I keep seeing things." She spoke quietly. "Everywhere I look, things remind me of it. I couldn't even have a candle lit."

Her pen slipped from her hands, clattering to the floor as she jumped out of her skin. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "I'm sorry - I don't mean to be so jumpy. It's stupid really. I survived, I'm here - but I can't stop thinking about the stupid massive lizard and.. and.. what if you had been a couple of minutes later and the car set on fire.. what if Jack had died. I couldn't do it - I couldn't get myself out of my seat even though I knew we would eventually fall. He could have died - and I would be the reason." She exhaled, clearly having been waiting to get it off her chest, head held in her hands, fingers running through her hair.

"MJ..." In a moment, Petter had hopped the couch that separated up her room, landing at the end of her bed, only a foot or so away from where MJ was sat.

She flinched.

Peter felt his heart crack. Or maybe that was a figment of his imagination, the pain that shuttered through his chest only a result of his actions two hours before. It was an awful juxtaposition, the last time he had seen her she had been clutching to his shoulder as he pulled her out of the flaming wreck of a vehicle that had been pushed off of the edge of the Williamsburg Bridge. A vehicle that would be submerged in the water of the East River if he hadn't acted fast enough.

And now he was sat in her room. He was sat in her room in an apartment of Queens having come through the window of the fire escape like everything was normal. He had been in the same room a week before, and it had been so different to now. She had been laughing, smiling and talking so openly, sat curled up beside him as they watched an animated film by a Japanese film studio that came out a few years ago. She had loved it, spewing out a couple of facts every quarter of an hour and he had stared at her in wonder each time. He had been in this room the night before, dressed in his suit and listening as she told him the worries she felt would hurt him too much to actually tell him.

"MJ." He whispered the soft tones joined by the reaching out of his hands, gently taking her own and turning her body towards him. "Please, please look at me."

"I don't think I can." Her voice wobbled as he lifted her hand and pressed kisses to her knuckles. "I'm not scared of you, I promise - I actually think it's pretty cool that you're Spiderman. But.. I.. what if Jack had died.. and you hadn't been there and I was too scared to take off my seatbelt and help him. I wouldn't have been able to.. but he's my brother, my little brother and I couldn't-"

She stopped herself, voice becoming no more than a murmur and a hand retracted from Peter's hold reaching for her eyes and wiping gently, the overwhelmed tears having finally fallen.

In an instance, Peter had used a web to pull the beige desk chair towards him by one of the five bearings on which wheels were attached. He let go of it once their knees bumped, hand letting go the last of her's and reaching for her face, cupping her cheeks and slowly lifting up her chin, coming to meet her eyes.

His thumb raised, hesitated, before reaching to gently wipe the tears that spilt from the circle of prismatic shades. Their eyes met, gazes not wavering until tear-soaked eyelashes dipped and another tear left the corner of her eyes. "There, see?" Peter smiled. "You've got it. You're here, MJ, with me. Your brother is in Brooklyn, alive and well. Everything is fine."

"I know." She swallowed. "I know. Yeah."

Peter's hands didn't move, palms pressed against her cheeks. "You think it's cool I'm Spiderman?" He asked, repeating her former words.

MJ laughed, the tone that had sat in it since the beginning of their conversation fading away. She nodded, sniffing. "Yeah, I think it's really cool that you're Spiderman. The guy who I've been going on dates with, pretty Peter Parker who orders pizza with too many toppings, who is smarter than anyone else I know, who was helping me with my homework this morning... is Spiderman."

"Oh yeah, that's me." He smiled, bringing his hand to her cheek and reaching for the discarded mask, holding it up and tugging it on again. "I'm Spider-man."

"No, you're lopsided," MJ replied, adjusting the side of the mask until it was even. "There. Now you're Spider-man. New York's latest masked vigilante."

"Your masked vigilante."

"Mine?"

"Mhm. Your Spiderman."

"My Spiderman," Margot repeated, a smile playing on her face as she reached forward to pull off his mask, leaning forward and kissing him.

For the second time, Peter felt as though he could never feel better than when she kissed him, couldn't deny the fireworks that exploded like he was in some cliche rom-com that they would easily make fun of. For the second time, he was trying his hardest not to smile too much and not focus on what he was doing (which was that he was kissing a very pretty girl who he liked far too much to tell her and it was very hard to ignore all those facts), hand reaching for her waist and pulling her from the chair onto his lap.

"Mmm, did I forget to say that the Peter Parker I've known for years is wearing Spandex?" MJ murmured as she pulled away, their foreheads coming to rest on each other, breath shared between them. "Spandex."

Peter laughed. "You wanna say that with any less disbelief?" He asked, a quiet groan escaping his lips as her arms rested over his shoulders, fingers knotting in the curls that sat at the bottom of his neck. "Freedom of movement... speed, y'know? Typical superhero gear."

"Oh yeah?" She smiled, adjusting her position over his lap, knees digging into the mattress on either side of him. Despite the teaser, the relief when she kissed him again only grew greater and greater. "Can you talk to spiders?" She asked, breaking off again. He shook his head. "No? Shame."

"Would you like me to speak to spiders?" He asked, hands leaving her waist and settling against the bed, tilting back to look up at her.

"No... I just thought it would be cool, that's all." MJ shrugged, smiling down at him, the smile eventually fading. "You're not hurt are you - oh God - I've been so selfish.. you were holding up a car - you fought that lizard thing-"

"MJ, I'm fine, honestly." Peter grinned up at her, watching as she climbed off of his lap in fluid movements, coming to sit beside him. "Really. I'm okay."

"You are?"

"I am. Definitely. Superhuman healing powers, remember."

"Not exactly.. but sure. So super-strength, quick healing, you have web-shooters?" She frowned, glanced down at his arms and took his hand again. staring down at the small contraption. "You made these yourself... and the fluid was based on something by Oscorp, right? But you made it all."

"It took a while... but yeah, I did." He nodded. "I can - er - I stick to things."

A split second later and he was gone, dark hair falling down her back as she stared up at him, eyes wide. "Are you sure you're not hurt?" She asked, head tilted to the side. "Your hair looks stupid by the way."

"That's why I have a mask." Peter was on the ground again, stood beside her and swept her up in his arms. "And it helps with the whole anonymous thing."

"You'd think, huh? Doesn't help you from getting all bruised and beat up though." A finger curved over his cheek, running under the remainder of the dark bruise that had sat there all day long. She leant up to kiss the spot gently, hand reaching for his hair again. "Do you have to go? Or can I order some pizza?"

"I can stay." He didn't even hesitate to answer, but when it came to logically think about it a moment later, Peter worried just slightly about his agreement. "Can I call my aunt first?"

"May?" MJ watched as she nodded. "Oh, sure. The fire escape's still open, I'll use the house phone to call. If you want... you can tell her that I was on the bridge and was a bit shaken up and called you."

"I.. okay." Peter placed her down on solid ground, reaching for his backpack that he had rescued from the top of one of the towers on the bridge. He changed first, back into the baggy jeans and layered hoodie and jacket, not bothering to fold his suit and stuffing it into the bottom of the bag, reaching for his phone.

Carefully, he climbed over the bookcase of what he found to be records and CDs as opposed to what he assumed it to be before, coming to rest on one of the metal steps before selecting her contact, lifting it to his ear.

"Hi." He swallowed, wondering if she was still a little upset by his disappearing act, an argument that had appeared the night before. "I'm going to be a little later home than I thought. Maybe not at all."

"What now, Peter? You tell me MJ and John can't make it with no explanation, and then you skip out on it without even an excuse thrown my way." There was a note of exasperation to her still relaxed and easy-going tone. She paused, letting out a sigh. "That doesn't matter. It's getting late, where are you?"

"I'm at MJ's."

"Come on Peter, I know she's your girlfriend but I think that-"

"She was on the Williamsburg Bridge earlier today." He quickly interrupted. A small 'oh' echoed back to him. "Sorry... that was blunt, but she's pretty shaken up. Her dad was out of the car when it was flung over the side. Her brother was there as well... Her brother's called Jack - he's her half brother."

"Right," May replied. "I suppose it's alright for the night. Keep checking up on her, okay? And remind her that if she ever wants someone else to talk to, I'm here." That offer was more than what it appeared; MJ lacked a sole mother-type influence in her life, and as someone she had once known quite well - as well as someone who had been filled with her homemade lemonade and baking - his Aunt May could be that person. And Peter didn't know how other people would react, but that made him quite proud.

"I will do." Peter nodded. MJ appeared by the doorway clutching one of those brightly coloured leaflets that ended up slipped into people's mailboxes and under their doors, her eyes widened seeing him still on the phone, but fluttered the leaflet, trying to point something out. "I should go. We're getting pizza."

"Sleep well, Peter." May let out another sigh. "Please be careful. And make sure she's okay. MJ went through something quite traumatic. Things might be difficult tonight. Text me in the morning.

"Yeah, sure." Peter agreed. "Love you."

"Love you too." Aunt May said, and as opposed to a sigh there was instead a smile in her words. "Take care, Peter." And with a click, the phone hung up and Peter left it discarded on her desk.

"Sorry." MJ winced. "I just... I have the list of toppings available if you wanted to check them when I ordered."

"Let me see them." Peter accepted the menu off of her, scanning the list. "You were planning on all, so why not go for it." He shrugged. "Also - about the suit..."

"Keep it on." MJ smiled. "Or take it off... but I quite like it."

🕸

Aunt May had been right.

The night was hard, even if MJ didn't realise it. It hadn't been easy for her to fall asleep but stuffed full of pizza with so many toppings they required plates to ensure that it didn't end up dropping it everywhere, it became a little less tricky. Peter couldn't slip away into unconsciousness so easily, and before he managed to even achieve anything remotely like sleep he had carried MJ over to her bed and laid with her as he tried to.

The grip around his hand had been vice-like even in the unaware state. And she had mumbled things all through the night, tossing and turning in what Peter was sure to be nightmares. Peter found that he wasn't afraid of many things anymore, but he could easily imagine how awful the experience was and he hated that he hadn't been able to get her out of it quicker.

He had done his best, and he was holding onto that. The first call he had gotten through the interceptor was about the area on the other side of the Williamsburg bridge. It hadn't taken him long to travel there though, running out of the door with the knowledge that the quickest way for MJ to get to her destination was that way and that there was a chance she would have missed it... but the police radio had been about someone seeing a 'large creature' causing quite the damage. His fears had been confirmed when he saw John Watson and the panic set in.

Peter had saved Jack first, he had to. And in that moment he swung back down and landed nimbly on the trunk of the car his heart had been pounding louder than he had ever heard it before. He was so scared in that moment, more than he had been since discovering his powers and beginning to chase after criminals. But Peter was just a little more scared to admit to MJ that he had seen the creature that had endangered her life.

Because he didn't want to tell her that he thought it was her beloved boss.

That lizard thing wasn't the Dr. Connors that MJ knew though, he knew that for sure. The Dr. Connors that was her boss was kind and encouraging, and always helpful. The lizard was... angry, ruthless and out for revenge.

Peter had no idea how to approach it, and the thought played on his mind as he finally managed to fall asleep in the early hours of the morning, destined to wake up in no time at all by the sound of her alarm clock that perched on the upturned crate beside the bed. He thought MJ woke up first, but he couldn't really tell, eyes opening as she shot up in bed beside him, her hand tightening around his as she looked around, seeing him slowly pushing himself up.

"Sorry." She cleared her throat, staring at her white knuckles before loosening her grip. "Sorry. I'm... sorry." She unknitted her fingers and pulled her hand away, finding them sitting useless on her lap.

"It's fine." Peter followed suit, trying to clear the grogginess from his throat. "Really, MJ, it's all good. How are you feeling?" He asked after a moment, not wanting to dive right into the heavy stuff all at once. But she was flexing her fingers, uncomfortable from the tight hold they had experienced for the entirety of the night.

"I'm fine. I think I dreamt of.. something to do with fire. But I don't really remember." MJ avoided his gaze. "I'm sorry. I've probably put you through so much through the night and I don't even remember... let me go make some breakfast... hope that my dad managed to stumble his way in."

"He's in the stairwell," Peter replied without thinking. Her eyes finally met his. "I heard him. I can hear things sometimes. People in trouble, people in need of a little friendly help... the ramblings of a drunken man at four am."

"I'm sorry-"

"Hey MJ, no more apologies?" Peter leant down, an arm snaking across the covers and onto her waist. Moments later and he was pressing a kiss to her cheek, striking when she was at her most unaware. When her eyes glazed in early-morning shock he used it as a chance to place two fingers beneath her chin and swiftly kissing her once more - properly again.

There was a certain neediness to this now, something that hadn't automatically been there the night before, or ever before for that matter. Her hands found the material of his t-shirt, tugging him closer and closer to her, his hand on her jaw meeting her waist and pulling her onto his lap. There was no secret that MJ was compensating for something - anything - with this, but she didn't care if Peter knew, she didn't care if the whole of New York knew. She just needed to be close to someone... and there was no other better way.

Until her movements came to a stop and she faltered, that one moment causing Peter to pull away and study her features. "What?" He asked.

"I just remembered I'd been talking to you... without knowing it was you." MJ's eyes were wide. "I told you I would end up doing something stupid and break up with you - oh my God."

Her hand was clamped over her mouth, the embarrassment leaving her no choice but to find her way to her feet. "I told you... so much. I - I told you it would be stupid of me to fall in love with you!" MJ watched as he got up, her eyes darting over to the suit folded neatly over her desk chair. "Peter - I'm so sorry you had to hear that, I-"

"MJ." Now he was on his feet, tugging the hemline of the t-shirt down with one hand before reaching for her, capturing her wrists and tugging her towards him. "Don't apologise. Never apologise to me. You'll never need to. Besides, in this situation I should apologise to you for lying."

"But why-"

"MJ." Peter warned, tightening his grasp around his shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "We need to shower... I can help you wash your hair?"

MJ paused for a moment, haze turning downwards as her forehead came to rest on his chest. Faintly, she could hear his heart pounding in his ear, and watched out the corner of her eye as Peter reached for a hand, locking their fingers together once again. It was something to consider. Something somewhat new - although certain parts were no different. But... the sound of it made her insides warm in anticipation.

"Okay." She mumbled, blushing slightly as she looked up at him. "You'll have to wear some of the stuff you lent to me. And I will be expecting it back."

"Deal." Peter nodded. "If I can chose your shirt for today."

"I mean Spiderman does have impeccable taste, considering the design of his suit." She was back to smiling again, no longer able to remember at all what the nightmare consisted of. Peter just smiled at her and agreed.

He could wait to tell her about Dr. Connors. He had to make sure first anyway.