xi. - BUBBLEGUM BITCH
🕊 ↳ ˚ ✧ ☁️ ∵ ☽ ↶ 🕸 ✶
˗ˏˋ i know i was made for you ˎˊ˗
AND UPON DITCHING THE SCHOOL DANCE, FIGHTING PEOPLE IN THE BUS PARKING LOT, AND STEALING FLASH'S CAR - Peter is beyond stressed. Though, things are connecting, the puzzle is being completed. All of it - it's all been about stealing from Tony Stark. It's been about getting back at him, robbing the rich. And while he drives a way too nice car way too fast through the streets - probably causing more damage than he meant to, Ned speaks up again.
"Oh no..."
Peter furrows his brows. How could things possibly get any worse? "What? What?!"
Ned hesitates to answer. "Uh... Jane is calling. Where - where is Jane? Is she with you?"
"What?! No! She's not - don't answer it! Whatever you do, do not tell her what's happening!" Peter orders, only for his demands to be cut off as Ned hangs up on him, and his voice is gone from the phone. His eyes widen, staring at him now dormant phone screen. "You mother trucker!"
"Yo, what's up J-Money?" Ned answers calmly, still tracking Peter on the screen, sweating profusely under his arms.
All he can hear is Jane breathing heavily. "Tell me where Peter is going."
Of course that's what she asks. Why do Ned's friends have to be so contradicting? Ned is under enough stress as it is, and now he's got Jane on his back and Peter will probably kick his ass no matter how he answers. "Uh... the last place I saw him is... the last place I saw him." He nods.
"And where was that?"
"The last place I saw him. For sure. No doubt."
He hears Jane huff. "Ned..."
"Yes, my love?"
He feels like there's a sniper on the back of his head, and with Jane, he wasn't actually sure if there wasn't or was. Jane might as well.
"Tell me where Peter Parker is. I'm not asking again."
He deflates. "But - " he sighs. It's no use. "He's heading to factory warehouse in Brooklyn..."
"Send the address to my phone. Thank you."
And he does.
She gets there before Peter. She took shortcuts, ones she learned over her 16 years of living in the concrete jungle. This including hot wiring Mr. Harrison's car that was in the parking lot which she would apologize for later. And at the building, she finds Liz Allen's father. She narrowed her eyes, and creeped closer, going higher on her toes to avoid the heels clicking. Silently, she strapped on a web shooter she kept with her, like her version of pepper spray. It was one of Peter's old ones, a bit janky, but worked well enough.
Taking a deep breath, looking around once more to see if Peter had arrived (no sign of his stupid ass anywhere), and took a step foreword. Now or never, now or he got away, now or Peter had to head into much more dangerous territory.
Jane was okay with know she didn't care about what this guy was doing. She didn't care about his cause, or his reason. Jane Watson soley cared that Peter was biting off more than he could chew. All she cared about was Peter Parker. Call her selfish, call her shallow, but she simply didn't care.
Jane didn't care about being a worldwide known superhero. She didn't care about her name in Forbes magazine. She had her group of people that she cared for - her family - and she'd protect that with her life.
If she didn't act now, he was out of her. Her tow middle fingers pulled down, mimicking Peters movements, shooting out a web directly onto his hand sticking it to the wall behind him. "Don't move. Please."
The man hummed, looking up slowly. "Spider - who are you?" He corrected himself, not seeing the red and blue webslinger he was expected. It was just - a kid in a pink dress. She looked like a gumball.
Jane shrugged. "An associate."
"Did he send you?"
She sucked in another deep breath, watching his every minuscule movement. "Not really. But I wouldn't hold my breath."
He tilted his head. "I'm gonna miss my flight."
"Yeah well I missed my first school dance so boo hoo, it's been a weird night for all of us."
Footsteps echoed as Peter dropped to the floor from the hole in the ceiling above, sprinting over to the pink dress he saw from above. Panic had consumed him, thinking Toomes actually brought Jane here to bait him. It would be his last mistake, anyway. "Hey! Keep your hands - " He took in the actual events, Toomes webbed to the wall and Jane standing watch. "Woah... did you catch him?"
The man looked to Peter expectantly. "Peter. Glad you could join us." Hw nodded to Jane. "Your associate really knows how to start a party."
Peter straightened his back, worry easing as he realized Jane was at the advantage for the moment. "Well... we - she caught you. It's over."
"You know, I gotta tell you, Pete, I really, really admire your grit. I see why Liz likes you. I do. When you first came to the house, before I wasn't sure. I thought, "Really?" But I get it now." The man began to monologue, making Jane roll her eyes excessively hard.
Peter furrowed his brows. "How could you do this to her?"
Toomes didn't agree with the accusation. "To her? I'm not doing anything to her, Pete. I'm doing this for her." And upon seeing Peter and Jane look to each other confused, Toomes sighed. "You two are young. You don't understand how the world works."
Peter stared his down harshly, "I understand that selling weapons to criminals is wrong."
"And endangering the welfare of multiple children. But you know, seems you're just checking off boxes here." Jane hummed, Peter pointing at her and nodding.
Toomes grew agitated. "How do you think your buddy Stark paid for that tower? Or any of his little toys?" He spat angrily. "Those people, Pete, those people up there, the rich and the powerful, they do whatever they want. Guys like us, like you and me, they don't care about us. We build their roads and we fight all their wars and everything, but they don't care about us. We have to pick up after 'em. We have to eat their table scraps. That's how it is. I know you know what I'm talking about."
Both of them did. They didn't live that high and mighty life. But they didn't want to commit grand theft aircraft for it. They wouldn't kill people for it.
"Why are you telling us this?" Peter shook his head, confused.
He sighed. "Because I want you to understand."
The man pulls a folding knife out of his pocket, slicing at the webbing, the Vulture's wing suit flying out from behind Peter's back, and weaving inbetween the two teenagers. The wing suit dips and dives through the building, firing rapidly, Peter swiftly pulling Jane behind him and he turned, watching the machine carefully.
"I'm sorry Peter." The Vulture mumbled. "And I wouldn't have do this is your very tiny friend hadn't slowed me down... but I do apologize. To both of you."
Peter dug his brows inward, utterly confused. "What are you talking about? That thing hasn't even touched us yet."
"True. Then again, wasn't really trying to."
Peter sensed the falling ceiling before Jane could even attempt to react, his hand extending and shooting out a web onto her waist and yanking her toward him as he collapsed on top of her, praying he'd work well enough as a shield for her.
He wasn't going to let her get hurt because of him. Not now, and not ever.
The slabs of concrete still fell on top of the pair, immediately knocking Peter out as his head came in contact with a boulder, a gash forming and bleeding profusely. Under him, the wide awake, yet exhausted girl, was slowly losing access to air as dust and rock consumed the room. The weight of the stones weighed down on Peter, ultimately forcing her flatter on the concrete ground, small pebbles digging into her skin. She knew from the shooting pains in her calf, something had happened that wouldn't be good. a small puddle of blood the only thing she could see clearly.
She knew Peter had sensed it coming. and he'd intentionally taken the hit for her. This would've killed her, it would've killed anyone normal. And now... she wasn't even sure if Peter was alive or not.
Minutes had passed, Peter's head still lolled into the crook of her neck, his eyes sealed shut. Tears streaming out of her own eyes, dripping down the side of her face and onto the dusty concrete floor. Her entire body ached, praying for the immense weight to be lifted. Jane could barely breathe, sucking in short breaths as she could, a cloud of dust and rock remains entering her lungs.
She wasn't exactly sure how much longer she'd be able to stay awake.
"Peter? Pete, please, please wake up." She croaked out, her voice scratchy and hoarse, breaking as she spoke. She sounded utterly pitiful. Nothing like the woman who'd prepared to take on the Vulture herself with only one of Peter's old web shooters and her wits until Spider-Man had shown up.
"Pete, come on, please. Please, I can't do this! Peter, please!" Her words had morphed into sobs as she suddenly let the thought of Peter truly being dead on top of her. "Peter! Peter, please wake up!" Her lungs burned, her tears trekking paths through her makeup, rocks nestling into her shoulder blades, heart aching at the thought that Peter Parker might be dead on top of her. Crying harder at the idea that she would be the reason Peter Parker died, why Spider-Man stopped saving lives, why Aunt May lost her last piece of family, why Ned lost his best friend.
It was too much. She couldn't breath, her entire body tensed and vision blurring. It seemed her entire world was collapsing, and she deserved to die here as well. Why did she deserve to live if Peter died? How could she ever come back from that, from murdering someone? She'd never be able to fill his shoes, she wouldn't even dare try. Her mind racing a million miles a minute, the familiar feeling of a panic attack creeping over her shoulders. She hasn't had one in a while, not since she's met Peter and Ned anyway. Before with just her dad and her absent mother, they were crippling. The feeling disgusted her, all her hard work on herself and her confidence and becoming this ultimate version of herself - all for nothing.
If she didn't calm down soon, she'd hyperventilate. She knew that, but she just couldn't stop.
And finally, she felt stirring. Not much, under the weight on the building, but it was there. The feeling of his breathing picking up was all she needed. "Pete! Peter! Yes, yes! Come on, wake up!"
A quiet groan left his lips as his eyes opened, his head pounding with a splitting headache. "Jane?"
"Hey bud, time to get up." She spoke eagerly, trying to hide the plainly obvious evidence of her tears and meltdown, also careful not to move too much and cause any more damage.
His eyes suddenly widened at the sight around him, the girl under him. She felt his heart pickup, his chest pressed to her back. he was respectfully freaking out. "Please - please tell me you're okay." Peter breathed out, arms moving carefully to hold her hips, trying to get his bearings. His touch was soothing, grounding her back into reality. She was okay, her Peter was okay. Frankly, she didn't want him to let go, she never wanted him to let go of her. He was this anchor that held her down in the never ending ocean of thoughts inside her head. Through her father, through the creation of spider-man, through seeing a dead turtle on the highway - Peter was there and would do their little handshake.
And Jane felt at home.
Her head moved slightly side to side, "I'm gonna tell you the truth, and something is definitely wrong with my leg, and I'm pretty sure I need new shoes but can we please focus on getting out? Calling for help?"
It all became so overwhelming. The inescapable silence around them, the moon shining in through the collapsed ceiling. And Jane looking up at him from underneath him, her shaking and her trying to stop crying because she didn't want him to hear her. It was getting to his head and he was letting it. Tears welled in his eyes as he attempted to crane his head upwards.
"Hey, please. We're down here. We're down here! We're- I'm stuck. I'm stuck. I can't move." He called out, praying someone was out there.
But no one responded. and he felt the cheap fabric of his hoodie rubbing him wrongly, the stupid blue hoodie he was wearing.
He wished he had on the Stark Suit.
"If you're nothing without that suit, than you don't deserve it."
Peter couldn't shake the words Tony had said to him from his head. The looming truth behind them.
Jane echoed behind it.
"Spider-Man is Peter Parker. Spider-Man is - he's your determination and bravery and - and you're utter disregard for your own safety. The suit did not make you Spider-Man, got it?"
He gritted his teeth, placing his arm around the side of Jane positioning his feet the best he could. And with a tight clench on his jaw, he tensed his muscles and pushed, using his back to lift the stone.
It took a moment to gain the momentum, but it shifted, just an inch. He pushed out a heavy puff of air. "Go, go, Jane, go."
She didn't hesitate, the weight on her leg had lifted a bit, letting her shuffle out as fast as she could. She slid out of her boots that were wedged under, one of her legs completely limp below the knee -- but giving Peter enough room to crawl out as well.
With a stiff huff of dusty air, sliding backwards on the dirty floor, her bubblegum pink dress very obviously torn in several places, including a slash on her side where a rock had sliced through it, also ripping the skin underneath of it. The pink of her dress in that spot - a deep red, and dripping.
Peter dropped the concrete with a tired grunt, the sound of Jane's boot heel snapping echoed in the building.
"Sorry about your shoes." He mumbled as he plopped down beside her, his arms like noodles resting on his knees.
The blonde shrugged, "It's fine, I've got others."
He sadly looked over dress, noticing the irreversible blood stains and tears - her only remainder of her mother, now ruined for eternity. Her leg, frighteningly dark brusing forming and pieces of the skin jutting out from the broken bone underneath it. "And your dress. Jane, your dress and your leg and the - I..."
She shook her head, "Pete, stop apologizing." She mumbled, fixing the collar of his zipper hoodie and straightening his sleeves best she could as he sat beside her. Then her hands went to his disaster of a hair do, brushing it to make it look at least slightly presentable. "We're both okay, that's more important, I think."
The rumbling hum of an airplane shook the building, making both of their head snap to the view in the sky. Peter shook his head definitively, standing with a grunt. He didn't care about it anymore, he didn't care about it anymore than he did about Jane. So he climbed to his feet, and moved to scoop her into his arms.
Jane slapped his hand away. "What the hell are you doing?"
His eyes ran over her battered body, the bruises and cuts making his heart ache painfully. And the crooked angle her ankle was at was definitely not good for anyone. "I'm - I'm taking you to a hospital, you're hurt." He spoke obviously, reaching for her again.
Another slap to the hands.
"Hey, hey! Quit with the hitting!"
She widened her eyes and pointed at the sky. "If you don't go stop that grade A asshole, I'm going to actually murder you." Jane exclaimed, wondering where his sanity had gone. Where was her Peter that tried to hold a ferry together by himself? Who was this hospital-loving quitter? She did not shatter her shin bone, ruin a perfectly good dress and boots, for Peter to quit.
He sighed, shaking his head. "No. No, Jane, I'm done putting Spider-Man before you. You're more important. That's it. End of story."
She pointed a daring finger at him, "Touch me and I'll smash your teeth in. You're going."
Peter frowned. "Jane."
"Peter. This - this is exactly what you here for! This is why you became Spider-Man! This - this right here! There's a pay phone outside, I can call Ned to pick me up and bring me to a hospital. You - you go do your thing."
He furrowed his brows as he watched her struggle to get her feet, instantly grabbing her arms to help her to her feet. His hands carefully moved along her still clothed skin, wishing she wasn't so stubborn. "You're making me feel like a douche... for - for just leaving."
She grabbed his jaw, turning his head to look at him. "Douchebags don't have superhero powers or a city to save."
And finally he nodded, turning to climb out through the hole in the ceiling, before turning back to look at her. He soaked up the imagine of the strongest person he knew - his hero. She still looked stunning, and he still felt his heart pound when he saw her smile. And with a sly smile grow on his face, he limped back over to her.
Jane didn't have a chance to scold him.
His gloved hands cupped her jaw, pulling her closer to him and pressing his split lips to hers. Every cliche became true, puzzle pieces fit perfectly together, fireworks exploding, puppies and kittens, an A on a english test, seeing Jane everyday - none of those things made him feel as complete as he did now.
He was made to kiss Jane. That was his purpose. To hold her so unbelievably close there wasn't even room for air between them. His arm left her head and moved around her waist to push her back towards him, other hands fingers guiding up her head enjoying how perfectly she molded into his hands.
And they pulled back - more for air than anything else.
She swallowed nervously, fidgeting in her spot. "O - okay, um... you - you can finish that when you get back."
He grinned ear to ear, there was more to that kiss?! "Finish? I can?" Peter beamed excitedly.
"Yeah... you can."
His hand stuck it, opening. "Actually I came over here to ask for that web shooter. Mine's empty." Peter spoke, now overly confident in his actions. Apparently Jane wanted to kiss him - it was a huge ego boost for the Parker boy.
She scrunched her nose and tore it off her wrist and dropping it in his hands. "Very funny. Now go save a bunch of people."
Peter giggled, skipping away and beginning to climb the debri that once held him down. Even though he was gonna have to fight harder than he ever had - he'd never been in such a good mood. "You better be in a hospital when I get back!" He called back to her, hopping from concrete to concrete.
"Don't die and I'll be wherever you want me to be."
AUTHOR SPEAKS !
- oohhhhhhhh yeahhhhh
idk i like the ending
you can't tell me shit
asian lives matter
unfollow david dobrik
spread love
- spidermandes