Far From You

London Pt. I

Peter had been quiet the entire car ride. Once things had settled and your entire class accounted for, you had all been ushered back to your hotel and Mr. Harrington had been once again made to call your school and all your parents to inform you all that everything was okay.

"This is getting ridiculous," MJ grumbled as she held an ice pack to your bruised shoulder. Peter was lying on your bed, ice pack just lying on his face, and Harry was sitting with his back up against the foot of MJ's bed as he rubbed his temples and talked in hushed Chinese with his father.

Ned and Betty had clocked out about an hour ago, and Flash was on the floor literally sprawled out just snoring softly.

You couldn't really lift your left arm and the bruise on your right shoulder as darkening by the minute.

"You need to get it checked out," Peter mumbled, his voice muffled by the ice pack.

"It'll be fine in the morning," you winced as MJ put a bit more pressure on it. "It's just from the suit."

"Get a better suit."

"We don't all have S.H.I.E.L.D. to make us new ones," you snapped, causing the ice pack to fall from Peter's face as his eyes darted to Harry and then back to you as if warning you to watch it.

Harry ended his call with a loud groaned, tossing his phone onto the desk and rolling his shoulders as his neck cracked. "My dad is an insane man."

"He's just concerned about you, Harry," MJ stated, "All our parents are concerned. We should just go home."

"Well Mysterio is gone," you spoke, finally starting to stretch out your sore left arm. "He's not with S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore, so he's off the grid. The probability of him being in London next is probably slim."

"That's stupid," Harry spoke up, "He's obviously going to show up wherever Spider-Man is. He has some sort of beef with him now - and you, for that matter."

"Why? Because I exposed him?" you scoffed, "He had it coming."

"Such a bitch," MJ muttered under her breath, "I hate him."

"That's a bit aggressive, don't you think?" Peter winced, "He's probably just a bit rattled. There's obviously something deeply psychologically wrong with him. We shouldn't be cursing him out; we should be helping him."

"Pete you are too sweet," you said softly, "There's crazy in his eyes that can't be undone."

Peter regarded you from a moment where he was sitting on your bed, hands grasping the frame on either side of his legs. "Maybe," he spoke as he stood. "I'm going to get some air."

The room was quiet as Peter stepped around Flash and slipped through the door. You were sure he was going to the roof. He always thought better when he was farther from the noise.

"You should go talk to him," you said, twisting slightly to look at MJ.

"Oh no," she shook her head, "He's in a mood. That's your business. Not mine."

"But -"

"Nope," MJ shook her head, "Come here, Harry. I've got another ice pack for your wrist."

"What happened to your wrist?" you asked, turning to see a slight bruise forming on Harry's forearm.

"Door got slammed on it," Harry grumbled, "Panicking tourists tried to close the door on some of us so I shot my hand out."

You winced, "Yikes."

MJ gave you a look as if to say, "Stop stalling," and you groaned as you stood, grabbing one of your sweaters before making your way up to the rooftop. Peter was there, just as you figured he would be, and he was sitting on the ledge with his legs dangling over, his hoodie up over his head and his hands in the pockets.