Just Out of Reach

Ch. 6: Hanging Up My Heart for You

"I'm gonna stop wasting time, honey, being a run around ... I'm gonna shake the reputations of being a ladies ma ... I'm gonna push aside everything I used to do. Because I'm hanging up my heart right now for you." - Solomon Burke

* * *

Though you were convinced Sunday would never come, it did. You were expecting everything that had happened at The Valley to be fake - a mirage - or some sick trick your mind had concocted after spending so many hours bursting to express your emotions to Peter.

And yet, as the sun rose through your window Sunday morning, Peter was sleeping soundly next to you.

His hair was curlier than you had ever seen it. It was frizzy and curly like a halo against your soft sky blue sheets. His right arm was splayed out under your pillow, where you were lying and facing him. Lying on his back, his lips slightly parted, his left arm crossing over his chest with his hand resting on his heart.

You were on your side, and your one leg was up and over his hip, legs mashed together as Peter's right arm twitched in his sleep and you scooted in a bit closer.

Slumber revealed the real version of everyone, your dad had once told you. It showed the innocence of anyone's face. And you believed it more than ever now as you watched Peter in his sleep. There were no worry lines, no glaring snarls, and most importantly, a slight smile graced his lips.

You wanted to pounce on him and press your lips all over his face to let him know just how much you appreciated his truest form. But you didn't dare wake him. You yourself were surprised you were awake, considering the two of you had talked late into the night. Peter deserved some rest.

You could tell he was exhausted - he constantly seemed drained - and so the fact that he was comfortable enough with you to fall asleep so deeply by your side caused your heart to ache.

Part of you, a large majority of you, was surprised that you and Peter hadn't had sex the night before.

You'd expected it. You would have welcomed it too. You'd just figured that's who Peter was, and it wasn't like he hadn't enjoyed the fierce make out sessions you'd shared back at the club, or the flurried kisses exchanged between the two of you throughout the night as intervals to your conversation.

But yet, it had all been so innocent. And you almost felt guilty for thinking that because Peter was known for sleeping around, that he'd sleep around with you.

After a bit of thought, you considered this a good sign.

You weren't complaining though. God, talking with Peter was your new drug. He was so honest with you, and so expressive in letting you know the answer to exactly what you'd asked. It was like he was forming answers to your questions as you were talking, and you felt comfortable enough to respond to all his questions as well.

You were both still a long way to go before you considered yourselves on the same page, and you knew Peter still locked away his darkest secrets, but you knew that if the two of you were going to go anywhere, they could one day come out.

They would have to.

He'd told you about becoming Spider-Man, but there was something he was holding back, you could tell. He told you about his parents' deaths and how he'd become obsessed in high school with finding out what had happened to them, which had led him to OSCORP, which had led him to a radioactive spider, which had led him to his powers.

There was a loss in his eyes though, as he told the story. There was an exponent he was leaving out of the equation, and you figured one day when he was ready to talk about it, he would.

You didn't want to push him because you figured everyone else had already been doing this all of his life.

You got the feeling that Peter had always felt the need to prove himself, and it had all started the night his uncle Ben had been murdered. Peter had come to blame himself for every minuscule thing that had happened to anyone around him ever since.

You had a feeling if you got a paper cut, Peter would blame himself for letting you hold a book and flip a page.

And wherever Peter had opened up to you, you'd opened up in turn. You'd told him about growing up in San Francisco, and the apartment your family had lived in. Your childhood cat who you were sure had been possessed by a demon, and when you'd broken your best friend's arm.

Peter had laughed, apologized for laughing, and then laughed some more. Watching his eyes crinkle in the same smile lines as May's was something you never wanted to forget, and so you told him as many more stories as you could to keep him laughing.

You told him about your disaster prom date, and the one time Aggie had found you making out with your high school boyfriend in her car. You told him about the anxiety you felt whenever you were working on a deadline, and how you always felt that whenever you were helping others it would never be enough. Someone somewhere was always going to need something else, and you were never going to be able to be everywhere at once.

Peter asked about your dad and you told him all you could. About the bedtime stories, the cookouts, bring your daughter to work days, and the time you'd cried when a boy had stood you up to the movies so your dad took you anyway and bought you a large popcorn.

You both talked about loss, and you cried a little and Peter kissed your forehead and held you close.

"Do you want to talk about exes?" you had whispered, hesitant to even bring the subject up, but knowing if you were ever going to be with Peter in any capacity that hesitance wasn't something you should feel.

Peter had stuffed his face into his pillow, his hand tugging around your waist a bit more as he pulled you closer.

"I'm ... not ready yet," Peter had finally admitted, "But I'm not seeing anyone right now, if that's what you're asking. I'm done with Gwen. I told her I was done days ago."

"For now?"

"Forever," Peter affirmed.

"Felicia?"

Peter grimaced, "I have to see her occasionally."

"Have to?"

"I can't tell other's secrets," Peter looked pained, "I wish I could. I wish I could tell you everything. And I'll tell you all of mine, but her secret is not for me to share. It won't compromise anything, and I won't be seeing her unless it's occupational. But ... But she's a part of my life ... against my will, kind of."

"Occupational?"

"Yeah, meaning -"

"I know what 'occupational' means, Peter," you'd giggled.

You hadn't pried, and you didn't really want to. There was this weird aura around Felicia and Peter whenever you'd seen them together. Like two halves of the same magnet that pushed and pulled against one another. To say you were jealous was obvious, ever since that first night when you realized they were friends with benefits.

But Peter said he wasn't "seeing" anyone, so where did that leave Felicia?

Where did that leave you?

You rolled over onto your back, staring up at the ceiling as you tried not to dwell on it too much longer. You were happy. Peter was happy. You were happy together with what you had. There were tendencies Peter expressed that you weren't too keen on, of course, in the way he treated others and what he was going through - how he was going through it, more likely.

But there was progress being made, and if he continued on this path then you were sure there would be a light at the end of whatever tunnel you had plummeted into.

You heard Peter huff next to you, and his left hand went up to rub his eyes. He blinked a couple times, looked like a confused puppy for a second, before he turned to you and his hard expression softened.

His whole persona melted, and he rolled over onto his side and smiled at you.

"Hi," he whispered.

His voice was low, scruffy, and made you shiver as you smiled back at him, turning over to face him.

"Good morning."

"Indeed," Peter breathed, reaching out and running his fingertips along your forehead, catching the small strands of hair and pushing them back from your face. You shivered against his cold touch and Peter jerked away.

"I'm sorry," he stuttered, "I sometimes forget that it's so cold. I don't -"

"It's okay," you stopped him, reaching out and lacing your fingers through his cold ones, bringing his hand to your lips as you kissed the palm of his hand and tugged, bringing him closer.

"How did you sleep?" Peter asked, "I didn't take up too much of the bed?"

"You took up just enough," you wiggled into his arms, and his right arm came out from under your pillow to press against your back, bringing you in.

His kissed your forehead and then your nose and then his lips ghosted over your lips. He barely kissed you, but goosebumps erupted across the expanse of your skin.

"What are we doing today, peaches?" Peter asked and you puckered your cheeks, humming in thought.

"Well, I figured we could order bagels from the bakery down the street. I could use a good blueberry bagel," you offered, "And they always make fresh cream cheese, so that would be nice."

Peter nodded as if he was listening, but his lips traveling along the expanse of your jaw and neck made you think otherwise. He wasn't kissing you exactly, just running his lips against your skin, his nose bumping along as you tangled your fingers into his curls and massaged his scalp.

Finally, you were in Peter's arms.

He'd been pining and dreaming and wishing for a moment like this, and now it was finally happening. You were just as warm, as alive, and as soft as Peter had always figured you'd feel so close to him. Rich and attentive, your eyes never left his face when he spoke, and for the first time in a long time he felt as if he was actually being heard.

He'd texted MJ, Ned, and Harley the night before, making sure everyone was back okay once the two of you had made it back to your apartment. Surprised but grateful for Peter's texts, they all let him know they were fine. You'd already informed Peter you'd heard the door open, the shower run, and Lazlo moving around, before he'd left. So the two of you had the place to yourself.

"What do you want on your bagel?" you asked, turning onto your back to grab your phone and find the app to place your order.

The two of you could have easily walked to the bakery, maybe sat down and had a nice breakfast, but Peter was so warm and your bed was so soft and the two of you were so busy that having the day to lie together - especially when this was all new and exciting - well, you weren't going to pass that up for bagels.

"Just plain," Peter hummed, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watched you work, "With veggie cream cheese."

You wrinkled your nose and whispered, "Gross."

Peter cracked a smile.

"Why don't you make coffee while I shower?" you offered, "Do you know how to work a coffee machine?"

Peter blinked at you like you were crazy.

"I make advanced technology half awake in one of our world's state of the art labs. I think I can work a coffee machine."

"Then the coffee better be good," you joked, before wiggling out of Peter's arms.

The delivery boy had just arrived with the bagels by the time you got out of the shower, and Peter wanted to reprimand you for looking too cute in your large and worn Redwoods National Park t-shirt that was essentially a dress on you.

"What?" you asked, peeking into the bag as you started to take everything out that you'd ordered.

"When you wear big shirts like that you look ..."

"Like a child?"

"Domestic as fuck," Peter blurted out, nearly smashing his coffee mug in his hands as you stared at him with big blinking eyes and warm cheeks.

"Well ... this is my home," you chuckled, rustling through the drawers for the bread knife to cut the bagels. "I'd hope I look domestic."

Peter was fascinated and in awe of the fact that no matter what dumb fucking thing came out of his mouth, you always turned it into a valid statement as if he'd spoken the most important equation. He remembered the way you'd animatedly rambled at his hospital bed, telling him stories and keeping him from stressing about other things.

Your superpower was language and communication, and Peter knew it would forever be more important than his.

Peter remained in his t-shirt and boxers as the two of you ate breakfast. You put on a cooking show and you explained to Peter who all the judges were and why each of the dishes were important. You reprimanded him for saying that tea cakes looked like eggs, and explained what proofing was when it came to making bread.

To your surprise, Peter actually seemed to be listening, and that had you talking even more excitedly as you watched. You watched the show and Peter watched you, and it was the most important moment since meeting one another, you wagered.

And then the door opened.

Thandie had an apple in her mouth and her hands were full with a grocery bag and her internship bag. She looked flustered, but finally she steadied herself before closing the door behind her.

Peter had tensed next to you, and you were tense as well. You were sure the two of you look a sight. Peter had his bagel halfway to his mouth, mouth hanging open, and you were attempting to fit your entire body to hide behind your coffee mug, as if that would ever happen.

The three of you froze.

Thandie's eyes widened, but she obviously said nothing with the apple still in her mouth. Peter hadn't moved an inch, bagel still poised midair, and his other arm twitched around your shoulders. You obnoxiously slurped at the last bits of your coffee, hoping the sound were ease even the slightest bit of tension.

Then Thandie dropped her bags.

It all happened so fast that if you hadn't known Peter was Spider-Man, you would have surely guessed it in that moment. And maybe Thandie might have too, if she wasn't so crazed with her rage.

Her bags dropped and it was like Peter could sense what was about to happen as she reached for the apple in her mouth. Peter pushed you down as you squealed, and as Thandie chuckled the apple - full, wound up her arm and baseball pitcher threw that motherfucker across the room - Peter had stood, snatched the apple out of the air, and placed it on the coffee table in front of the two of you as if it was nothing.

"Thandie ..." he started, voice even, as he held his hands up in defense.

"WHAT IS HAPPENING?!" Thandie screamed, her angry eyes looking between the two of you.

"What are you doing here?" you whined, standing as you stepped in front of Peter.

As if you, a small tiny human being, could somehow protect Peter Parker - mountains taller than you and a literal Avenger.

But you'd never seen an Avenger go up against Thandie, so really anything could happen.

"I thought you had your internship!"

"I did! It was this morning!"

Peter looked at his watch and realized it wasn't morning at all. It was two in the afternoon. The two of you had slept in without even realizing it, and the time had slipped away. How many cooking episodes had you watched?

"Was he here last night?!" Thandie yelled, waving her arms around frantically, "Did you two fuck?!"

"Thandie!" you squawked, face enflamed as Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"No," he mumbled, "I wouldn't -"

"Oh yes you would," Thandie spat, glaring, "That's it," she snapped, and suddenly she was on a mission.

She turned away from the two of you, and you and Peter gave each other a look before you were following Thandie into the kitchen, and Peter was scooping down to pick up all the tossed aside items Thandie had thrown down to hurl an apple at Peter's head.

"Thandie please," you called after her.

She'd retreated to her room, and she was starting to tear through her things, lifting up journals, books, and agendas as she flipped through everything and sifted through her drawers of pens, highlighters, and other discarded objects.

She was clearly searching for something.

"Would you just listen to me?" you begged, "Things are fine! I ... I like Peter! And last night we had a really nice conversation! We're not dating."

"Oh I know you're not," Thandie mumbled, turning an entire shoebox of sticky notes upside down as she groaned when she couldn't find what she was looking for.

"We're just enjoying each other's company," you continued.

Peter was behind you now, arms crossed and resting against the doorframe as he stayed out of the conversation. He knew that you and Thandie would need to work this out eventually, considering her deep, deep hatred for him that he couldn't quite place.

Sure, he'd been a dick, but he hadn't done anything extremely out of the ordinary of an average fuck boy to make her loathe him so much. Or maybe he had? Peter had never been in this situation, but he knew to remain silent.

If she was going to keep throwing food at him whenever the two of you were together, then Peter was kind of glad this conversation was happening now. He'd felt guilty when he woke up in the morning that you were keeping him a secret from your friends. The bond you shared with Thandie and Lazlo was special to you and part of who you were, and he didn't want to get in the way of that at all.

Peter figured that if he got to have one night sleeping beside you and one morning with you in his arms, then he would take it.

" - we just like being together and that doesn't mean we're going to do anything drastic! I mean, we're both busy people and who even has time to date these days, you know? Plus we work together so could we even date? Is that even allowed?" you were rambling, following Thandie around, who didn't even seem to be listening to you.

Yes, Peter thought, the two of you were contractually allowed to date even though you were both interning at Stark Industries.

Peter had checked.

His heart constricted though as he thought about it. He'd never done that for anyone else. He'd never thought far enough into the future to think about potentially dating any of the people he'd slept around with. Not even MJ or Felicia. And he wasn't even "sleeping around" with you. But here he was thinking of dating you, and he could feel himself start to sweat.

"Besides," you moaned, leaning against the side of Thandie's desk as she sifted through a folder, "It's not like we did anything. And I know that you're concerned about me after everything that happened last year ..."

Peter furrowed his eyebrows and pouted a bit. What had happened last year? His mind fogged over with some boy hurting you, and he immediately felt hot with rage. Who could hurt you? Who could be so cruel as to not treat you right?

Then Peter winced slightly. He hadn't exactly been the poster boy for treating you right lately. Hadn't he hurt you? For a moment Peter thought he might vomit up his coffee.

"But Thandie!" you followed her as she stormed out of her room, and Peter barely had time to step aside as she barreled past him. You followed after her like a hummingbird, getting a bit more aggressive to gain her attention.

"Thandie," you sighed, "Listen, I know you want to look out for me and I appreciate that," you said as she pulled her wallet from her purse that Peter had placed on the kitchen island, "But Peter and I talked a lot last night and - well, and -"

You looked over to Peter and sighed tiredly, "I think we're on track to really getting to know each other," you said, smiling slightly as Peter felt himself blushing.

"I trust him," you whispered.

"Ah HA!" Thandie screamed, causing you to jump and Peter to wince slightly, standing on the opposite side of the kitchen island as Thandie pulled something from her wallet.

"You say you know him, huh?" she snapped, "Yeah, he was a dick and at first I figured he was just getting over his trauma."

"Thanks," Peter mumbled.

Thandie glared harder.

"But I knew I knew you from somewhere," she sneered at him, "I knew the second I saw you that you were up to no good. Bad company keeps bad company."

"Hey!" you pouted, "I'm not -"

"Not you, hon. You're perfect and you've never done anything wrong in your life," Thandie said, placing her hand over yours.

"But I couldn't place where I'd seen Peter before and then I found an article, from that charity fundraiser you were head of the volunteer committee for last year."

You looked even more confused, "You mean the charity ball for the Sokovian Orphanage?" You looked sad suddenly, "Thandie, why would you bring that up now? Out of all ..."

You shook your head, and Peter got the feeling something awful was about to happen.

"Wait you were part of that?" Peter asked, thinking back to the charity ball he and Harley had been forced to attention with Tony and Steve. "I went to that! Hey, that was a really nice gala! They raised a lot of money."

They, being OSCORP.

You looked uneasy.

"I didn't know you ever worked with OSCORP," Peter whispered softly, "Did you intern there too?"

Thandie looked a bit shocked by Peter's soft voice, but her hand trembled as she held her prized piece of paper to hand chest. You sighed, rubbing your forehead.

"I never worked for them," you said begrudgingly. "I was ... well, I was part of their volunteer program because I figured it would be good on my résumé. It wasn't much -"

"You literally planned the entire fundraiser," Thandie snapped, "I tell you every time we talk about this, you need to own up to everything you did and take the credit!"

"No one would ever believe I planned it," you rolled your eyes.

"You planned that night's fundraiser?" Peter looked just as confused as you had a moment ago. "The raffle? And the drink stubs that went towards donations? And the -"

"She planned all of it," Thandie spoke sternly.

Peter tried to think if he'd ever seen you there, or if your name had ever been mentioned. It should have been mentioned, considering he'd spent the whole night with the person who said that he'd been in charge of all the planning.

His head was spinning.

"Why are you bringing this up?" you demanded, tears welling in your eyes as you looked at Thandie pointedly, "I'm fine talking about him but I didn't find out about him taking credit until way after we'd started dating and -"

Without warning Thandie shoved the paper up in your face, causing you to flinch back a bit before you took it gently from her shaking hand.

It was a black and white photo from a newspaper clipping, and you recognized both the boys standing with their arms around each other's shoulders. One had a glass of champagne in his hand, and the other was laughing widely with his arm around the other's waist.

You felt sick.

"Oh," was all you said, blinking back tears as you cleared your throat.

Harry Osborn.

Tall, pale, lanky and lean, with hair so blonde and fair that it was practically white. In fact, he had premature whites in his hair, and they always glistened in the sunlight. His features were sharp, elfish, and his eyes were the palest of greens that seemed to change slightly from green to blue in the light or dark.

He'd been someone new to be fascinated with, with his clipped Swiss accent and his fancy date ideas. You'd met in the fall, around the time you'd been doing some volunteer work for OSCORP and you'd been eating lunch, looking over some of the numbers for people who would be able to volunteer for the charity fundraiser, when you'd seen him getting frustrated across the room at some messy files all over the place.

You'd offered to help him file them, and noticing the auction ideas, you'd given him some of your own on how to better them. He'd listened, he'd been kind, and the next night he took you out for dinner as a thank you for your help.

From then on you'd meet for lunch whenever you were at the building for volunteer work. He'd ask your opinions for ideas for the fundraiser and you'd essentially planned it alongside him. Harry had told you multiple times he'd be giving you credit for it, and mentioned he'd put your name on everything you'd worked on.

And you'd trusted him.

You'd dated for four months.

"Y/N?" Peter's voice brought you back from your memories, as you blinked and looked up at him. He looked extremely nervous, and you couldn't help but wonder if maybe he already knew what was on the paper.

They were friends, so what? So they'd been at that fundraiser together. There was no way for Peter to have known you'd been the mastermind behind all of it. You hadn't even found out Harry had taken all the credit until some of your final fights that ended the relationship.

Yet, seeing the two of them so happy together in this photo made you shudder.

"I didn't know you were friends with Harry Osborn," you whispered, handing over the newspaper clipping.

Peter looked uncomfortable immediately, taking the photo and grimacing at it, turning it over and placing it face down on the countertop. Thandie was watching the two of you so closely that you felt claustrophobic, and you weren't sure if you wanted her to leave or not.

Harry had torn through your world like a hurricane. Things had been fine at first, but the storm had brewed quicker than you'd realized and then you'd been swept up in it. And just when you thought things had settled, the tsunami hit and nearly dragged you under.

"Peter?" you whispered, "Are you ... Are you okay?"

"Are you?" Peter asked, before he turned to Thandie, "Where did you find this?"

"Simple search," she shrugged, "Harry Osborn singlehanded tried to demolish Y/N's entire world and I won't stand for that happening again. So if you're anything like him -"

"I'm not," Peter said sternly, his voice a bit more pained than your or Thandie would have expected.

Peter sat down on one of the kitchen stools and sighing, "Harry ... Yeah, he has his issues."

"Excuse me if I don't feel sorry for him," Thandie muttered.

"No you shouldn't," Peter shook his head, "I'm sorry he hurt you, whatever he did. I'm sure ... I'm sure there was quite a lot," Peter looked at you, "How long were you together?"

"Four months," you sat down at the stool beside him, facing him.

"We worked together on that project but then I didn't see him until after break. We started dating at the beginning of January and by the end of the semester I was forcing him onto a plane to -"

"Switzerland," Peter nodded, scratching at the back of his neck as he wrinkled his nose and closed his eyes, "I packed his things for him," he admitted.

The fact that you and Peter had known the same person at the same time shocked you. The world was so huge, and yet here was this boy sitting in front of you who had probably been in Harry's penthouse the same day you had. Harry's things had been packed by the time you'd gotten there that afternoon to drive him to the airport, which meant that very morning Peter had been the one placing them by the door.

Peter looked hesitant, and then sighed deeply and placed his hands over his face.

"Y/N ... in May - when did you ... when did you and Harry break up?"

Thandie spoke up, "They broke up on the 10th. We celebrated with nachos."

For some reason, Peter looked relieved, but then he looked pained again, and you realized there was something he wasn't telling you.

"That would make sense," Peter admitted, looking at you dead on and focusing in on your eyes as if he was trying to see into your soul. "That's when he came back to me."

"What do you mean?"

"Harry and I were more than friends," Peter winced, "I mean, we didn't date. But we were always together because that was when Harley and I were doing a joint project with Harry for some tech stuff."

Peter shrugged, looking heavy and worn down, "We got along because we were working on the same things and had been through some similar life situations. I don't know what else to say other than I was bored and he was there and it was exciting."

"You ... You dated ..." Now Thandie looked dizzy as she leaned back with a thump against the kitchen counter. "Honestly, I thought you two were just like ... like frat brothers or something and I thought - I thought that you would be as cruel to Y/N or -"

"No."

Peter shook his head quickly, a determined look on his face as he looked down at his finger tracing the marble patterns of the countertop. "No, I promise that whatever cruel things he tried on you," he finally looked up at you again, "He did those same things on me."

"He stole your work?" you whispered.

Peter nodded.

"Did he cheat on you?"

"Well," Peter hesitated, "We weren't together. He could do what he wanted. And I didn't actually like, feel anything for him emotionally, I don't think. It was just fun to be together and new for both of us. So I didn't really care when he slept with girls. I was sleeping with Gwen too at the time, now that I think about it."

Peter felt sick to his stomach.

He thought of all the nasty and vile things Harry had manipulated him with and how he'd twisted Peter's emotional turmoil around his fingers with such control. The thought of Harry doing the same thing to you ... Peter felt the need to punch something.

You phone had been ringing for a really long time, but none of you had thought to pick it up. Peter was staring at you like he was about to cry, and you were already crying.

How could one person who was no longer in either of your lives still be ruining them?

You stood, stepping closer to Peter and taking his hand in yours, holding it fiercely.

"It's okay," you nodded, "It's over now."

"I wouldn't do that to you," Peter whispered, "I wouldn't -" his voice cracked, and he looked uneasily towards Thandie.

She was already retreating to her room though, having caused her destruction and not realized the eruption it would cause. You had a feeling she would apologize later, probably bake you a whole cake or something, but honestly? You were grateful. You weren't sure how long Thandie had been carrying this around in her wallet, and you got the feeling her carrying it around had been like a weight.

And now that it was out in the open, maybe she'd understand Peter a bit better. Maybe she'd give him a chance.

"I know you would never do that," you offered a soft, watery smile. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"I wish we'd known each other then," Peter whispered, his hand coming up to cup your cheek thumb brushing away your tears. "Things would have been so different. We would have been so much happier."

"Averted the whole Osborn crisis," you nodded, "Maybe be something together by now ..."

Peter sighed, leaning in and resting his forehead against yours. "I didn't think to tell you about Harry because I didn't know the history of -"

"No," you shook your head, "How would you know to say something? I'm sorry it was sprung on you like this. You should have told me when you felt ready."

Peter shrugged, "How could anyone ever be ready to admit they slept with Harry Osborn?"

The joke landed, and you laughed, "I mean, it's not like I ever enjoyed it," you smirked, causing Peter's cheeks to darken as his eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint.

"Worst kisser," he stated.

"Oh absolutely!" you agreed.

And then somehow, the both of you were laughing. Foreheads still pressed together with Peter's hands cupping your face, you placed your hands on his wrists and squeezed them reassuringly.

"There's someone else I need to tell you about ..." Peter sighed, "Someone who was important to me."

"You don't have to now," you told him softly, pressing your lips to his tenderly.

Peter sighed against the kiss, and his muscles all relaxed. His fingers curled into your hair, and you leaned into him as your kiss became a bit more weighted.

Peter pulled away, sighing deeply as he nipped at your bottom lip and looked at you. "I need to tell you though," he admitted, "Before I lose my courage."

"Okay. Well let's make some more coffee and -"

"Okay I'm sorry to interrupt but MJ is on the phone and she's really frantic," Thandie said, interrupting the moment.

You and Peter turned to her and you frowned. "What's wrong?"

"She said she's been trying to call you and you haven't been answering," Thandie said. "She also said Peter's phone has been going to voicemail."

"I turned it off," Peter shrugged, "Didn't want any distractions. I don't have anything going on today."

"Apparently now you do," Thandie said briskly, "You should call MJ. I told her you're here."

Peter's face turned hard. You were already calling her.

"Y/N thank God!" MJ cried, the second you'd dialed her number. You'd had five missed calls from her, and you couldn't imagine the amount Peter probably had.

"MJ what's wrong? What happened?"

"I'm so sorry I know this might seem dramatic but I really need to talk to Peter this might be life or death."

"O-Okay," you whispered, handing the phone over to Peter. "Life or death," you whispered, and Peter looked disgruntled.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Peter," MJ immediately burst into tears, and Peter stood up, frightened.

MJ never cried. He'd seen her cry once, at a funeral, and that was it. She hadn't cried when Peter had been in his accident and she hadn't cried during any of Peter's other Spider-Man related drama. But now she was sobbing, and Peter was already frantic.

"MJ, you have to take a deep breath," you cooed, "Just breathe in and out, okay? Is anyone there with you? Where are you?"

You were already grabbing all of Peter's things, running them to him as he kept the phone glued to his ear while thanking you silently.

"I-I'm at home. I just - I just saw the news and - and oh, God," MJ sobbed, "Peter, Liz's dad broke out of prison this morning."

Peter's blood ran cold. His entire body seemed to shut down and you watched as the color drained from his face. He looked scared, and you'd never seen him scared before.

"What's wrong?" you whispered, but Peter didn't respond.

"When?" he croaked, zipping up his jacket, "From Attica? That was where he was locked up, right?"

"Yeah I think so! I don't know! I just saw -"

"Okay it's okay," Peter soothed, "Lock your doors okay? I'm going to come over and I'm going to get you somewhere safe. I'm going to get Ned too, alright? I'll ... I'll call Liz."

"Okay," MJ whispered, sniffling. "Peter ... if he knows who you are ..."

"I know. I know MJ, and it's all going to be okay," Peter said, finishing stuffing his feet into his shoes, "I'll swing by. Give me ten minutes, probably less. Call Ned while I'm on my way, alright? Let him know."

"Are we in danger?"

"I don't know babe. I'm so sorry," Peter gushed, "Call Ned. I'm on my way."

You were standing at the door, a concerned look on your face and Peter wanted nothing more than to sweep you into his arms and kiss you as deeply as he could. The real world was calling him, but with you standing right there he almost wanted to forget it all.

"What's going on? Is MJ okay?"

"I'll call you when I know but she's going to be okay. A bad guy broke out of jail this morning - someone we all had to deal with when we were in high school. I'm ..."

Peter wasn't sure what he should say. He didn't want to worry you, but Adrian Toomes had been the scariest person Peter had fought to date. Sure, Mysterio had been tricky and manipulative, and Thanos had been the kind of Big Bad. But Thanos had felt so surreal, and his master plan had been obliterated with the snap of Captain Marvel's indestructible fingers.

Vulture though ... he had threatened Peter as a kid with a gun in his car like it was nothing. He'd dropped an entire building down on Peter and triggered immense claustrophobia attacks that had left Peter shaking for months. He had nearly caused himself and Peter to be blown up, and Peter had literally survived a plane crash to stop him.

Peter's nightmares had been filled with this man who knew his true identity for years, and now they were coming to life in front of him right when something was starting to look good for him.

"I'm sorry. I have to go," Peter choked, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before slamming the door behind him.

It was silent for a moment before Thandie whispered, "So are you two dating?"

"No, probably not."

"Is he coming back?"

"I don't know."

"But he likes you?"

"I guess so."

Thandie closed her eyes and let her head drop, "I'm sorry for the ... for the photo. I didn't know -"

"You should have talked to me before throwing it in his face," you nodded, "If you'd let me know then I could have talked to him about it. You've been allowing your hatred for Peter to fester because of a photograph for so long and ... well, I'm glad that it's out now. And I will always appreciate you looking out for me. But I guess we just need to own up more," you admitted.

Thandie sniffled, "Do you hate me?"

"You?" you scoffed, "Never."

"I was wrong about Peter."

You took her hand, "Not completely. I mean, he has been kind of a dick to people but there are layers to him we still don't understand. A lot of unresolved trauma from way before he lost his arm. But the best we can do is not judge and be here for him."

"Can I still call him an asshole?"

You chuckled, "Well, I mean I'm sure he'd appreciate some consistency in his life."

And then you hugged, because sisters could scream and fight and threaten one another and pull each other's hair, but at the end of the day who understands you better than your own sister? And blood or no blood, Thandie was your sister.

You and Thandie were both crying, but laughed through it, as you brushed Thandie's hair from her face and she used the end of her long sleeve to wipe away your tears.

"Let me bake you a cake," Thandie nodded, "Then we can eat it and wait to find out how MJ is doing. Carrot? I'm thinking carrot cake."

It didn't take long for Peter to realize MJ was a mess, and way more hysterical than he'd anticipated. She'd been trying to call Peter for hours before she'd finally gotten a hold of you, and in those hours she'd started to manifest the worst thoughts - that Peter was dead. That Vulture had killed him.

Peter knelt down, helping her fold her clothes as she sniffled, packing her bag. Neither of them spoke, but the four minute hug where MJ's legs had given out and Peter had sat with her in his arms on the floor had kind of spoken for itself.

Peter knew he'd been shitty to MJ for a while, even before he'd been in his accident, by stringing her along in a pseudo-relationship that had ended with Peter choosing someone else as a distraction.

MJ had taken it in stride, and she'd dated since, and Peter hadn't thought much of it because he was a dick. But ... But Peter knew she cared about him deeply and he cared for her just the same.

"I'm going to pack my toiletries," MJ mumbled, getting up and heading to her bathroom.

Peter nodded, sitting down on her bed as he finished zipping up her suitcase.

MJ's loft was nice and large, with the perfect amount of sunlight streaming in. Her artwork was everywhere, and it was an artist's playground. MJ had always gotten what she'd wanted considering her parents were rich beyond measure. Of course, the thing she wanted the most was their attention and yet that seemed to be the one thing they never gave her.

Instead they gave her a large loft for her to live in for college, and all the art supplies she ever wanted. She could go anywhere, do anything, and they'd always provide for her. Peter was pretty sure that's why she rioted and protested as much as she could. She just wanted to be heard.

"Okay," MJ walked out, pulling her hair into a bun as she tossed her toiletries bag into her backpack. "That's everything."

"Great. I have Harley in a car downstairs waiting for you to take you to the safe house and -"

"You're not coming?"

MJ's tone was sharp, and Peter stared at her for a moment, unsure how to handle this. He could snap at her, because he felt like it. His thoughts tore through his mind like a tidal wave.

Of course he was staying! Of course he was going to go after Vulture! What? Like he had a choice? What was he supposed to do, just let him go free? He had obligations! He had responsibilities! Yeah sure all he wanted was to go to a safe house, maybe take you with him, and hunker down until Vulture had been captured and this was all settled.

But Peter knew this was far more than a normal prison break, and though his mind had already calculated that, he was sure MJ - as smart as she was - hadn't thought that far in advance.

Peter could feel the rage boiling under his skin, causing his muscles to twitch and his patience to wear thin. But he pushed it all down, willing his mood to stay neutral as he noticed MJ's fearful face. She was asking because she was scared for him, because she cared about him, and she just wanted him safe.

He sighed.

"You know I can't," he mumbled, not looking at her.

"Why not? Why can't you just let someone else handle this for once!" MJ exploded, clearly wanting a fight.

Peter screwed his eyes shut and nudged her suitcase towards her. They both watched as it rolled lazily towards MJ, bumping into her foot as Peter clicked the code on his arm and his suit started to expand.

"No one knows him like I do," Peter reminded her, "I can find him."

"Maybe he wants you to find him! Did you ever think about that?" MJ asked frantically, walking after him as Peter walked towards the wide windows near MJ's bed.

"Peter!" she cried, exasperated, and reached for Peter's wrist as he opened the window. "Don't!"

"You think I can't handle him?" Peter whipped around, his mask yet to materialize around his face as he looked MJ sternly in the eyes, "Have a little faith, Michelle."

MJ's face hardened, and she let go of his wrist.

"I have faith," she spoke, head held high, "But I also have logic, and logistically, we both know that Vulture broods around waiting for his prey to run itself to death or come and find him. Both of which, you're very capable of."

"I'm not going to get myself killed on this mission," Peter scolded her.

The next mission? Sure. He'd probably get killed then. But he'd be damned if he let Adrian Toomes be his murderer.

"Go to Harley," Peter ordered her, "Get safe. Please. I don't want to have to worry about you while I'm out there trying to focus."

The words were nice, but the tone was sharp. MJ understood though, stepping back and clearing her throat.

"If you die, I'll fucking dig you up, resurrect you, and kill you myself."

"Good to know nothing's changed," Peter grumbled, before his mask retracted around his face and he jumped out the window.

Peter let his senses guild him. He knew who he was looking for, and he knew she'd be close by. If he'd only just heard about this, he was sure she'd been on the hunt long enough by now that she'd have some crucial information he'd need.

And lo and behold, only thirteen minutes into swinging around the city, he finally found her. Felicia was hunkered down on a rooftop in the warehouse district, pacing as she was looking at a pad, scrolling through something and muttering to herself.

She was waiting for him.

When Peter landed in front of her, he flicked the pad out of her hand effortlessly and grasped her wrist, pushing her back into the wall behind them so hard he almost saw her eyes rattle in her head.

"Where have you been?" she hissed, reaching up with those sharp cat-like reflexes and slapping him across the face.

Peter wiggled his jaw, turning back to Felicia as her furious snarl turned into a soft whimper. Tears built up in her eyes and poured over her mask, and she rested her hand on Peter's face softly.

"I'm sorry," she cried, "Fuck, Spidey, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to. I was so worried and stressed and -"

"Did you fucking do this?" Peter snarled, slapping her hand away from his face and webbing it up to the wall he had her pressed against.

Like lightning he had her other hand webbed, and she tugged against them, a glint in her eye as Peter's hand now flew to her neck, holding her tightly.

"Tell me you didn't do this," Peter breathed, squeezing a bit more as Felicia coughed.

"You think - that I broke him - out?" she gasped, "Why?!"

"Do I need to remind you of how we met?" Peter snapped, finally letting go of her throat as he stepped back.

Peter had first encountered Felicia when she'd broken her own father out of jail. He'd been only a couple steps behind her the entire time, but she'd been toying with him, playing with her food before she unleashed her trap. She'd freed her father, so he could die peacefully at home in her care rather than in prison, and then she'd started a fun game of cat and spider with Peter for months.

Felicia laughed cruelly, "You think just because I'm a prime jail breaker that I would go and break out one of the only people who know how to use your identity against you? Please," she scoffed.

"Oh I'm sorry, Kitty, weren't you the one who was saying only days ago that you wanted to supply the Nefaria Maggia with an enforcer?" Peter growled. "You named Vulture explicitly."

"Um no," Felicia sassed.

Peter watched as she kicked up, rotating her arms so she was now crouched on the wall, attempting to use the force of her whole body to pull her hands free from the webs.

"I believe I said - " she grunted, struggling against the webs, " - that we should use some of Vulture's guys that you've been tracking. You know I care for you too much to ever let Vulture out, baby."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Well he's out now. So I'm going to track his men. I'm going to devote all my attention to this. If he's not put back away soon -"

"What?" Felicia hissed.

She stopped struggling, looking up at Peter as she squinted in annoyance.

"What do you mean you're going to devote all your time to this?" she shrieked, "The Maggia -"

"The Maggia has been sitting on their hands for months!" Peter yelled, "And now the Vulture is our number one threat."

"Are you blind?!"

Felicia's claws sprang out, slashing the webbing to shreds, and she fell gracefully to the ground. When she stood to full height, her eyes were now blazing, and Peter realized this was one of those 'I'm so pissed I might actually kill you' moments he'd at one point found attractive.

"The Maggia broke him out!" Felicia screamed, waving her hands around angrily, "This isn't a coincidence! They've hired him!"

"We don't know -"

"We do know! But you're too stubborn and too scared to think it," Felicia spat, "Vulture is only part of our problem now."

"Vulture is our problem!" Peter roared back.

"Oh don't be so weak," Felicia pushed him in the shoulders.

"Oh no, the big bad guy dropped a building on you before your voice had even dropped and now that you're all rough and tough you're going to show him who's boss?"

She was taunting him, and Peter knew it, but he could still feel the flares of anger shoot through his body.

"Well grow up, Spidey," Felicia snarled. "Your priorities aren't in order and you're acting like a scared little child."

"Oh I am?" Peter laughed cooly, pushing Felicia back. She stumbled a bit, but steadied herself and held her ground.

"I'm acting like a child?" Peter's voice darkened and he grit his teeth.

"You're the one obsessed with taking down the Maggia," Peter walked forward, hands clenched, "You're the one who feels she has to prove herself. What? Did you decide that maybe if you defeat this big mafia ring then you'll what? Prove your worth? Prove you're more than a lowly cat burglar with a pretty smile?"

"Aw," Felicia cooed, "You think I'm pretty."

"You have to look at the bigger fucking picture," Peter growled, "You're so obsessed with finding all the missing pieces and getting the glory of taking all these men down. I get it. You want to make men hurt. But you're throwing yourself into this and you have no idea what Vulture is capable of."

"I know plenty," Felicia snapped, her nose only inches from Peter's.

"Don't get in my way," Peter whispered harshly, "I'll take you down."

"I won't get in yours if you don't get in mine," Felicia grit her teeth. "I wouldn't dare get in the way of heroic Spider-Man avenging his title against his old nemesis," she gasped, hands up in defense sarcastically as she smirked.

"Besides, we both know the only thing we want to get into together is my bed."

Peter shook his head, taking a step back and crossing his arms against his chest, "Not anymore."

Felicia raised an eyebrow, "Oh no? Why? Did Y/N finally let you in hers?"

Peter didn't say anything, because he knew whatever he said would only push Felicia to taunt him more. But his silence was enough, and Felicia's sarcastic smile turned into a sneer.

"Oh my God," she shook her head, "That's where you've been?" she cackled, "Of course. You're fucking playing house while I'm doing all the work!"

"You need to stop obsessing over my life and let me do my job the way I know I can. It's not all about work!" Peter snapped.

"It should be!" Felicia roared, "You think she's going to love you? You think she's going to sit over by the window late at night and think 'Oh boy! I can't wait for my love to come back! I hope he's having a good night out battling crime!'"

Felicia laughed at her frilly voice she'd used to imitate you.

She put her hands on her hips and Peter watched as her hair blew behind her in the breeze. He could have loved her at one point, maybe. He probably had started to, when they were seeing each other as Spidey and Black Cat.

But then he'd gone and told her his identity, and wanted to know hers. He'd thought maybe something like this could work better than any of his other failed attempts at relationships. His only real relationship had been with someone who had been in a similar situation as him.

So why not Black Cat?

And for a while it had worked. They hadn't fully dated, but Felicia had allowed Peter to come and see her as Peter, and Peter had gone out in public with Felicia as if they were some sort of item. But she started to become bitter. She started to only want to go out as Spider-Man and Black Cat and beat people up together, take on the bad guys together, and spend the days in bed.

"No one can love both sides of you," Felicia spoke quietly, her voice almost eerie in the wind.

"You know it, deep down. You know that no one will ever understand your life. Y/N may think she understands, and I'm sure she'll be fine for a while. But then the days will start to feel lonelier and you'll choose Spider-Man over her every time, because you're a 'good guy,'" Felicia chuckled, "Face it, this is your life. Spider-Man is your life. You give up Peter Parker, and Vulture won't be a threat to you anymore. He won't be a threat to the people you love."

"That's not true," Peter shook his head, "You know it's not true."

"You know it is," Felicia stepped towards him, a smirk on her red lips, "Y/N's never going to be able to be there for you because how could she ever understand what you go through on a daily basis? The one person who did is dead."

Peter screamed, lashing out and webbing Felicia to the wall again, only this time he'd webbed up her entire body. She screeched at him, struggling against the webs now restraining her middle, arms, and legs.

"Let me go!" she screamed, "LET ME GO!"

"Now you sit there and think about what you've done," Peter now taunted her.

He turned to walk away, but Felicia's words stopped him cold.

"They're building that neuron bomb!" she yelled after him, "And now that they have Vulture, so they have access to all his alien tech and all his companions who built his weapons in the past!"

"Then we stop them," Peter shrugged, "I don't need your help to take down a couple goons."

"When that bomb goes off, I hope you have long enough before it reaches you to know that it's your fault it exploded," Felicia called after him, "Because you couldn't focus long enough. Because you had to be Peter Parker long enough to let them build it! Because you're the reason that bomb goes off. And you can hold Y/N in your fancy new arm but it's not going to protect her. And you'll have killed another girl you're in love with."

Peter turned, and he was on Felicia so quickly that she pushed her head back against the wall. Peter was breathing deeply, eyes blazing.

"What?" Felicia whispered, "Did I finally break through your thick skull?"

Peter checked his rage, knowing that though Felicia could talk a good game and put up a good fight, she was scared. She was alone in this world, scared out of her mind, and trying desperately to control at least something so she'd feel a shred of normalcy.

She was lashing out because she was unstable, and she could prey on Peter's weaknesses all she wanted, but Peter wasn't going to torment her with hers.

"The webs will dissolve in three hours. We'll get some more work done in the morning, yes?" he toyed with her, before walking to the edge of the building and jumping, letting the wind whistle through his ears to drown out Felicia's screams at him.

The rest of the evening was much less eventful. Peter checked in on May, who was staying at the lake house with Happy, Pepper and Morgan. The drive on his bike was honestly pretty nice, and it was refreshing for Peter to only think about keeping his bike stable, instead of the words Felicia had spewed at him. She knew how to get under his skin, and Peter always allowed her. He should have shut her up with a web to the mouth, but he'd never had the courage.

By the time he got to the lake house, the sun was setting, and Morgan should have been in bed but she was running around like a maniac.

"Do you want to see the car I built?!" she was screaming, showing Peter the model car still dripping with wet glue before Peter could even enter the house. Her teeth were too big for her mouth, and her eyes were so large with excitement that Peter knew someone had given her sugar.

Peter chuckled, squatting down to get a better look. "Not bad, lug-nut," Peter ruffled her hair, "But shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Mommy said that you could tuck me in," Morgan looked at him excitedly, and Peter hesitated.

"Sorry Morgan, but I can't tonight," he patted her shoulder awkwardly, "Why don't you go find your mommy and tell her that I'm talking with Aunt May, alright?"

Morgan looked a bit defeated, but she nodded, placing her gooey car on the bench next to the door. She opened it quickly, running away from him, and for a moment Peter almost felt bad.

But then he remembered everyone in their safe houses scared for their lives, and he knew that he had more important things to do than tuck Morgan into bed.

He couldn't for the life of him figure out why Morgan liked him so much. He'd always been nice to her, and as patient as he could be. She'd been in Tony's lab so often holding tools and being a human tool box that Peter had affectionately nicknamed her 'lug-nut.'

But that was about the extent of it.

Peter wasn't a kids person. Well, he definitely was. He had always wanted to be a dad. It used to be the coolest thing to him in the world. When he was in kindergarten he specifically remembered the whole 'what do you want to be when you grow up!' project they'd done. He'd said he wanted to be a dad and Blake Geller, the kindergarten bully, had laughed at him.

Peter had punched him in the face.

Thinking back on it, maybe Peter's issues and internal rage had started far before he'd gotten his spidey powers. But now wasn't the time to think about that.

Or, he reminded himself, it wasn't the time to think about being a father. It wasn't possible for him. He'd run the tests. He knew that if he were to conceive, the kids would carry on his genetic mutation.

He refused to let any child carry the burden that he did.

So kids had become a sort of dark reminder of everything he'd had to sacrifice when a decision had been made for him at such a young age. And Morgan was just another reminder of a superhero who got his happy ending - the kind of happy ending Peter knew he'd never have.

"Oh God there you are!"

May was rushing towards him, breaking him from his thoughts as he'd continued to stand in the doorway like a fucking idiot. She threw herself onto him, arms tight around his neck as Peter stood there with wide eyes, shocked by her affection.

He hadn't talked to May in months. He hadn't even talked to her to tell her to get to safety. Happy had already taken care of all of it by the time he'd called to check in. Peter had been so worried about MJ's frantic mania that he'd focused solely on her before being able to place any of his other thoughts.

"Uh ..." Peter cleared his throat and patted May's back hesitantly, "Yeah I'm fine?"

"We thought you were going to go do something stupid!" May cried, stepping back and adjusting her slightly off-kilter glasses, "You weren't responding to any of our calls!"

"My phone was off," Peter shrugged, "Are you uh ... Are you good ... here?"

He couldn't look at May for more than a couple seconds, fiddling with the strap of his bike helmet as May seemed to settle into the situation.

"Yes I'm fine," she said curtly, nodding a bit stiff. "Have you found out anything?"

"No," Peter shook his head, "He's in the wind. Whoever broke him out - they were professionals. Most likely the -"

Peter cut himself off as Happy came into the room, nodding to Peter. Peter had forgotten that the Maggia case he and Felicia were working on was something no one else knew about. And if he mentioned that the Maggia may have been connected as he and Felicia were relatively sure, then that meant the Avengers would crack down on the Maggia and ruin everything he and Felicia had been working on.

"What kind of professionals?" Happy asked, "Do you have leads?"

"I'll start tracking down some of his past known accomplices. Toomes didn't name any of his associates or any of the men working for him when he went to trial, even though it would have lessened his sentence greatly. So he still has loyalty, I'm sure, amongst all his men. I have some of the old files from high school. I was going to work on those tonight."

"You're going to go back to the city tonight?" May almost looked offended, "No! You should stay here for the night."

"I already made up your room," Pepper said, walking into the living area as she tossed one of Morgan's tiny jackets on the back of the couch, "You're more than welcome to stay, Peter."

"Oh uh ... no ... thanks?" Peter winced.

When had it become so awkward and difficult to talk to these people? His own family? He'd had dinner after dinner and family game nights will all three of these people for years, and though he'd always felt like he was putting on some show as the perfect son, he had been happy with their affection. He'd visited Pepper in the hospital after she'd had Morgan. He'd confided in Happy about girl problems when he was younger, and May ... God, he'd been through so much with May.

No one knew Peter like May knew Peter.

"I just came to check in," Peter shrugged, "I ... I should check on everyone else."

"MJ and Ned," Happy nodded, "Are they safe?"

"Yeah. Harley has them at a safe house."

"Have you called Liz?" May whispered, and Peter felt his face heat up.

"I haven't," he admitted, "I was going to."

"She should hear it from you, Peter," May chided, giving him a knowing look. "She should know you're looking for him."

"I'm sure she already knows."

"But she should hear it from you," May persisted.

"Okay!" Peter sighed, his eye twitching a bit.

He didn't want to get angry in a house where a kid was trying to sleep. And these people didn't deserve his outburst. Even though all he wanted to do was kick and scream like a child. And maybe break some stuff.

"I should get going," he breathed, "Keep me updated."

He turned, closing the door behind him as quickly as he could. He hesitated for a moment, his hand still on the doorknob as he wondered if it would be so horrible if he went back in and fell into May's arms. He could use a good hug, and her fingers running through his curls as she talking to him in that soothing voice she always did when things were bad.

Pepper would make her amazing hot chocolate and Happy would analyze the situation to make it sound so simple.

But Peter didn't have time for that.

He got back on his bike and revved the engine, noticing Morgan's little head at the window of her bedroom even though she was supposed to be in bed. When she noticed Peter looking up at her, the curtain swung closed and her silhouette scurried away. Sighing, Peter kicked out onto the road, and started making his way back towards the city.

He knew it was going to be a long night.

You were sure it was going to be a long night as well.

You were sitting at one end of the couch while Thandie was stretched out, her feet in your lap as you painted her toenails. Lazlo had sat down on the floor in front of you as you and Thandie had filled her in on the whole drama war zone that had exploded earlier when Peter had been here.

"Peter fucked Harry?" Lazlo gapped.

"I feel like Harry might have fucked Peter?" Thandie looked over the nail file from where she was filing down her fingernails and furrowed her brow, "I mean, who's the top and who's the bottom?"

You slapped Thandie's foot, glaring at her as she squealed.

"Wow," Lazlo shook his head, "In all my gay years ..."

Thandie snorted.

"So like ..." Lazlo looked a bit uncomfortable for a moment, "Did Harry cheat on you with Peter?"

"No we figured out the timeline," you shook your head, focusing on the sparkly blue nail polish on Thandie's nails.

"Peter and Harry were hooking up probably when I met Harry. Then when Harry and I started dating, Peter hardly heard from Harry. Only when I broke up with Harry did he go back to Peter for the couple weeks before he went home."

Lazlo shuddered, "I always thought Swiss people were supposed to be nice."

"No they're just neutral in world affairs," Thandie pointed out, "Did you know about all the art theft that goes on through there? Terrible thing. Really lovely architecture though. I'd love to do a tour of the main buildings there."

You rolled your eyes, finishing up with the last of Thandie's nails. She pushed her feet off your lap and onto the coffee table as Lazlo reached his hand out onto your knee.

"Blue or orange?" you asked, holding up the bottles.

"Orange. I'm mad at Thandie for pushing Peter and don't want to match with her," Lazlo said, giving Thandie a pointed glare.

"Oh I'm sorry," Thandie threw the nail file at Lazlo, "Did your gaydar go off when you met Peter?"

"I was too focused on his angry eyes and metal arm to think about whether or not he liked dick," Lazlo shrugged as you started painting his thumb. "Besides, it doesn't matter. Everyone's a little gay anyway! It just kind of sucks that Peter's one experience with a guy was with Harry fucking Osborn. That Swiss asshole. He ruined Peter for all of us who would have treated him better."

"Are you crushing on Peter now too?" Thandie chuckled.

"Have you seen his broad shoulders?" Lazlo wiggled his eyebrows and you couldn't help but laugh.

"We don't know if Harry was his only boy toy," Thandie's eyes glistened, "He could have had a bunch of -"

"I really wish we weren't talking about this," you mumbled, effectively cutting Thandie off. "I don't care who Peter's been with or who he hasn't. But he left so suddenly and under such duress. I just hope he's okay."

"Have you heard from MJ?" Lazlo asked softly, blowing on his fingers as you started painting the other hand.

"No. I haven't thought to call. I'm sure she's quite shaken up, and I don't want to bother her or make her relive it. I'll ask Peter later when he lets me know he's got time."

"He should have time for you if you're dating," Thandie pointed out.

You couldn't help but snort, your chest constricting a bit painfully as you felt heat rise along your throat and up to your cheeks and ears.

"We aren't dating."

"He seemed quite taken with you," Thandie noted, turning to Lazlo, "He was so soft with her. And he was extremely patient during the whole Harry thing. It was like a whole other Peter Parker."

"I told you he wasn't an asshole all the time," you spoke pointedly, hand jerking slightly as you swore, smearing polish on Lazlo's finger.

"Do you want to date him?" Lazlo asked, "Do you think it would work?"

God, you weren't sure. You wish it was just that simple.

Did you want to date him? Could you? It wasn't a yes or no question. You had a feeling that Peter wasn't struggling just as himself, but also as Spider-Man. It was like having an internal identity crisis you couldn't talk about with anyone. Peter was stuffing two personalities and lives into one body, and you couldn't imagine the stress and strain that put on him every day.

No wonder he'd been so wound up tight for so long.

You hardly believed anyone understood what he was going through. Even the other Avengers wouldn't be able to understand Peter's daily life. They were one person - their Avenging life and their personal life was one entity - where Peter was living two lives and trying to balance them without tearing himself apart.

"I think he needs someone," you finally answered, "And I'd like to be that person. But I think Peter has to be open to trusting someone again before I can offer my résumé, so to speak."

For the first time when talking about Peter, Thandie was quiet. She wasn't throwing anything, or going on about how he was just another useless male. But she was studying you, and had a soft look on her face.

"There's something else," she noted, "Something about him you know. You're protecting him."

You flinched, finishing Lazlo's final nail before setting the polish aside and curling up on the couch.

"All I'll say is, if I had been through everything Peter had, and if I was constantly living the life Peter was, I would probably be acting out just the same as him."

Lazlo raised his eyebrow, chortling slightly. "You? The sweetest fairy of all the land? You'd turn into a brooding dick?"

You nodded firmly, curling your hands into your sweater.

"I think I would, yes. Which is really saying something for how he's handling it."

You didn't hear from Peter for the next couple hours, and you figured he was busy. You kept the news on and helped Thandie decorate the carrot cake (which she wrote in frosting 'sorry I made your boyfriend talk about his ex-boyfriend who is your ex-boyfriend') in bright pink frosting with her skillful steady hand.

Lazlo went to bed early, because he had a morning shift at the hospital for his on-site nursing course, and after cleaning up the kitchen, Thandie kissed you on the cheek and said she'd be getting some homework done in her room but to come in if you needed anything.

You waited until it was getting to be around 10:30pm before you finally got up the courage to call MJ.

"Hey!" she spoke loudly, talking over what sounded like music and the clanging of something mechanical. You could clearly hear Ned and Harley in the background, and it warmed your heart to know they were all together.

"Hi, I hope I'm not bothering you," you said, curling up in your bed as you looked out at the window to the city outside.

"No no! Not at all! Actually, I was planning on calling you but I figured it might have been too late," MJ said, the noise getting quieter as you heard a door closing. "I just wanted to apologize for earlier today. I was hysterical and not in my right mind and -"

"MJ, you have nothing to be sorry for," you told her in the best soothing and supportive voice you could.

"I only got a couple details from Peter about what was going on, but I know how scary it must have been for you and after seeing the news all day I can understand how freaked out you must have been. I'm so sorry you're having to go through this."

"Oh," MJ sounded a bit surprised, "Wow, thank you Y/N. That's really sweet of you."

"Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do? I can water your plants at your loft if you -"

"NO!" MJ spoke so loudly you winced, pulling the phone away from your ear.

"No sorry," she huffed quickly, "No, I just - That's so sweet of you but you should probably steer clear of my loft for a while. I don't want you getting into any trouble because of your connection to me. I know that sounds dramatic, but this guy Y/N ..."

MJ didn't need to continue. You could hear the deep rooted fear in her voice and you realized that this was the kind of guy who would go to any lengths.

"It's totally fine. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," you said quietly.

"You're just too sweet," MJ was definitely smirking, "But everything's good here. Harley, Ned and I are holed up in a safe house, and Ned's brought a bunch of stuff to work on to keep his anxiety at bay, and Harley here's for ... well, honestly I don't really know why he's here?"

You laughed, "Probably to look after you."

"Well if Harley's the one looking out for us then we're definitely goners," MJ joked, and you smiled at the lighthearted tone of her voice.

"Have you heard from Peter?" MJ asked, "He was here just a bit ago checking in on us. I know he also went up to see how May was doing."

"He did?"

That surprised you. According to May the last time you'd spoken at FEAST, Peter had basically all but cut May out of his life.

"Yeah. She called and was kind of giddy about it," MJ sounded like she was trying to repress a smile, "I mean, it probably doesn't mean anything. Peter was nice to me too today but it was all out of the fear of you know, being a target I guess."

"Oh MJ you don't know that," you spoke softly, "He's really trying. He told me he was. And he seems to be doing a lot better."

"Yeah ..." MJ hesitated, "I guess? I just - Okay, can I be honest?"

"I'd hope you feel comfortable enough to be," you encouraged her.

"Well," MJ groaned, "I just feel like such a shitty friend, you know? Because, yeah sure Peter started acting this way after his accident and everything. But I think ... Well, I think it's been something he's been repressing for such a long time. Like, it was always there boiling inside but he always put up a front."

You had a lump forming in your throat as MJ spoke.

"It's just that, well, I was always so impressed with everything that was thrown at Peter and how he always seemed to overcome it. He's lost countless people and been thrown into so many circumstances. I can't explain why, or what he does, but -"

"It's okay, MJ," you whispered, "I know who he is."

MJ didn't say anything for a moment, and you felt the need to continue. "I figured it out only recently. Then he told me everything."

"Everything?"

"Most things, I'd wager."

MJ hummed, "Well that's good. It's good he's opening up to you. But I guess, well, now that you know he's Spider-Man, I can't imagine everything he's been keeping locked up inside. I feel so guilty for being one of his closes friends and yet I never noticed that he might have been faking his happiness or putting up a façade all this time. I should have seen it and I should have let him lash out every once in a while so he didn't explode."

MJ started to sound more frustrated. "I feel just so shitty. And I guess that's why I lashed out on him too, you know? Because I'm supposed to be this great friend to him and yet he never felt comfortable to tell me how he was actually feeling all these years. And now he's off the deep end and hurt deeper than we can repair."

"I wouldn't say that," you frowned, "I think he's on the road to recovery, but you're right that this is definitely something that's been plaguing him for a long time, and now that it's finally uncapped, he doesn't want to bottle it back up ever again. He's released it and now it's overcoming him. The best we can do is just to tell him that we see him, and we want to be there for him."

"You're far too wise, you know that? You've known Peter for hardly any time and you've already figured him out."

"I'm just a people person," you shrugged, "But I wouldn't say you're a bad friend, MJ. I mean, none of us will ever understand what it's like to be Peter, because he's the only one living a double life with spidey powers."

MJ hummed thoughtfully, "Listen Y/N, thanks for calling. I probably won't be in classes for a little bit or at trivia night or anything, but just give me a ring when you're bored, because I sure as shit will be."

"Of course," you said quickly, "And if there's ever anything I can do, please don't hesitate to ask. I really want to help however I can. This is a scary time and I don't want you to feel lonely or like it's all on you."

"You're an angel. Get some rest, yeah? And if Peter doesn't reach out to you just let me know. Or honestly, you could probably give him a good row for me."

You couldn't help but laugh, "Of course. Have a nice night. Tell Ned and Harley I said hello."

"Will do babe. Night."

You placed your phone on your bedside table, staring ahead of you in the dark with hardly a thought in your mind. You'd gone blank, so tired and worn from the day's activities. The lamplight of the one lamp on your desk was casting long shadows across your room, and you almost felt like you were being sucked up into them.

Yours and Peter's lives were somehow so intwined already in such a short span of time, and to find out that you and Peter had been revolving around the same circle without knowing it for months before meeting ... it gave you chills.

You kept going back to that night - one of the final nights you had with Harry - before he went off on you and everything fell apart. You'd told him you weren't going to go to The Valley with him, and when he got back later that night to his place, you were waiting for him having heard on the news about the raid.

"Hey pretty little thing," he smiled, slinking out of his car and sauntering up to you as you stood in front of his door, shuddering slightly from your damp clothes after jogging through the rain.

"I heard on the news," you said, lip quivering slightly as Harry leaned around you to unlock his door.

"Heard what, doll?"

"About the raid at The Valley," you followed him in, listening to your feet echo across the marble flooring. "I heard there was a mafia ring bust."

Harry scoffed, not looking at you, as he pulled out his wallet, keys and phone from his pocket, placing them on the counter in the lavish kitchen.

"Yes it was all very exciting," Harry smirked, his Swiss accent swirling with mischief as you tried to hold firm.

Harry was so cunning and so sharp, he'd talk circles around anyone who tried to tell him off. One of the things that frustrated you the most about him, and there were many, was that you could be angry about something and he would act as though it was nothing, coaxing you down from your haughty claims and casting them aside so quickly before you'd even realized it.

But not this time.

"I heard Whitney was there," you commented, noticing Harry's muscles go stiff.

"Yeah. We bumped into each other," he turned to you now, a slim smile spreading across his elfish face. His skin was translucent in the moonlight, and his cold, hard eyes were so pale that it was almost eerie.

There was this sort of marble-quality to his features and an angelic presence that always pulled you in. But then you remembered the curvy, full-lipped, brown eyed Whitney Frost who was always lingering around, and you blinked Harry's angelic expression out of your clouded mind.

"Well wasn't her family under suspicion at one point?" you asked, "When we went to her restaurant -"

"Baby," Harry cut you off, "Doll, you don't need to worry! Everything was fine. No one was hurt."

You watched as he pulled the glass bottle of scotch from the drink cart, pouring himself a drink in a tumbler and taking a swig. Harry was a couple years older than you, and though only a college senior, he drank scotch like someone much older.

"Six people were arrested," you pointed out. "One of which was Whitney's cousin. I looked it up."

Harry walked over to the large white couch, sitting down and patting the area next to him.

"Come here, you little detective," he cooed, and you found yourself walked over to him against your own better judgement.

"Now," he said, pulling you onto his lap so you were straddling him. He smiled up at you, wrapping his arm around your waist. "Let's not worry ourselves with something that has nothing to do with us. Were you worried about me? Was that it, baby?"

"I was worried you'd gotten yourself mixed up into something."

"And what would give you that impression?" Harry pouted, "I may not be head of OSCORP yet, but since my dad's death I've been doing everything I can to make sure it all stays on the legal side of things."

He smiled one of those delicate smiles where you knew he was about to say something haunting.

"I figured you of all people would understand wanting to make your dead father proud. That's all I'm trying to do."

"I'm not saying you were doing anything shady. I just think -"

"But weren't you?" Harry cut you off, "Thinking I only went there tonight to be part of some mafia drug deal? Please," Harry scoffed.

"I invited you to go, didn't I?" he asked, squeezing your hip. "Would I invite my cute little girlfriend to come to the club with me if I was going to be placing bids on alien tech?"

You weren't sure what to say, not wanting to anger Harry anymore as you could see a storm brewing in his eyes and his sharp facial features.

"I was just ... I'm glad you're okay," you settled on, offering a hesitant smile.

"And you came all this way to check on me," Harry mused, squeezing you closer to him as he finished off his scotch. "You're the best, you know that?"

Your reluctance to fall under his spell must have tipped Harry off that you were still uneasy.

"Don't worry about it," Harry told you, starting to kiss at you neck as you rested your hands on his shoulders, "I had a nice little conversation with Spider-Man and he let me go. You can't arrest someone who hasn't done anything wrong."

Later that night though, you'd laid awake, Harry's body curled up next to yours, as you thought that no, you couldn't arrest someone who hadn't done anything wrong. But you also couldn't arrest someone who was about to do something wrong, which you were sure Harry was into.

You'd never mentioned alien tech. So where did Harry know that detail from? And if Spider-Man, an Avenger, had taken the time to actually talk to him, then wouldn't that be suspicion enough?

Now that you knew Peter was Spider-Man, you were itching to know what that conversation had been. And you figured at some point you'd have to ask, or you'd probably go insane.

You were so deep in thought, that you barely registered your phone vibrating until you'd missed the first call. Looking to see a missed call from Peter, you scrambled to call back.

"Peter? Hello?" you asked, standing quickly and holding the phone tightly to your face.

"Hey peaches."

Peter's voice was tired and strained, but you let out a choke of relief.

"Thank God you're okay," you breathed, "I'm so glad you were able to go and check up on everyone. How are you feeling? Are you feeling safe?"

Peter couldn't help but smile.

"I'm fine. Thanks. I uh ... I'm actually on your wall."

"What?"

You wildly looked around your room, half expecting Peter to be there somewhere. But then you saw a red hand waving from your window, and you rushed over, dropping your phone in the process as you rushed to throw up the window, pushing the screen out so that Peter could detach himself from the wall next to your window and crawl in.

You'd seen Spider-Man now twice up close. But knowing that Peter was under that mask now ... it felt different. And watching as the suit detracted as if sinking across the expanse of Peter's body until all that was left was the blue ring around the middle of Peter's upper arm where his metal arm began ... that was something to behold.

"I know it's late, peaches. I just -"

You threw yourself at him, curling around him like a child as you clung to his neck and wrapped your legs around his torso. You knew he could take the weight and the force of your impact considering his super strength, and you refused to hold back.

Still, a soft, 'oof' left Peter's lips as he held you up, pulling you in close as you clung to him.

"I was so worried," you spoke in a hushed tone, pulling away just enough to press a chaste kiss to Peter's lips. "I knew you were busy," you kissed him again, "But I also knew that this had to have been difficult for you," you couldn't stop yourself from planting another kiss.

"But I also figured you would be hurting," you kissed him, and Peter tried to keep your lips to his this time but you pulled away nonetheless, "And that you probably felt so lonely out there! I'm so sorry this happened. I read online about the Vulture attacks years back and -"

"Y/N?" Peter whispered, an amused small smile on his face, "I'm fine."

"No you're not."

Peter's eye twitched.

"Okay, no, I'm not. But I'm fine now. I ... I know where to begin and I know how to handle this. I'm a lot stronger now and more experienced since the last time I fought Vulture. My main priority is making sure all his targets to get to me are safe, and I've put everyone away."

You breathed a sigh of relief, "But where are you going to stay safe? You're most important. Wait, not that everyone else isn't equally as important. I didn't mean that. I just mean that Vulture wants you, you know? So he'd probably go looking first and -"

Peter kissed you, his warm hand cupping your chin to pull you in. His lips were a bit chapped, but you welcomed them and the feeling of being held so sturdily by him. You melted into the kiss, and it became a bit heated as you pushed up against him even more, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck.

Peter moaned, detaching his lips from yours as he breathed heavily, "I didn't come here to make out."

"Oh ... sorry," you whispered, allowing Peter to set you down.

"Not that I don't want to," he said quickly, "I ... God, I mean, I've been thinking about you all day since I left."

"That's nice."

Peter smirked at you, sitting down on the foot of your bed. "I can't stay. I don't want to endanger you."

You frowned, "How could you -?"

"Well, Vulture is out there. I should probably stay away until he's caught."

"No," you spoke so sternly that Peter was shocked, looking at you with wide eyes. You huffed, running a hand through your hair as you paced.

"You've already stayed away long enough," you told him firmly, "I don't want to be apart from you out of fear. You can't let fear run your life. I understand the crisis that must be going on in your mind constantly. I mean, you're living two completely different lives and how can you not let one rule the other, you know? Like if you were just Peter Parker you'd be here spending the night with me and it would be a normal night and maybe we'd be dating and happy. But you have the pressure of Spider-Man and so obviously you have to leave and be smart and keep your distance."

You were still pacing and Peter was just watching you in awe.

"But you can't let Spider-Man make Peter Parker so unhappy that he feels lonely, and you can't let Peter Parker's social life cut into Spider-Man's duty. Peter, I get it," you breathed, stopping in front of him, "But the more you try to let one rule the other, or think too much into it ... well, then you'll never find happiness."

You sat down next to him now, taking his hand in yours.

"I just want you to 'be' when you're with me. I don't want you to have to feel you have to be one or the other. So if you have to go, fine. I understand. But if you want to stay, then stay. I don't think after years and years in prison that Vulture is going to immediately come flying through my window demanding his pound of flesh from you. You have room to breathe and you can breathe with me."

Peter was gapping at you, and you groaned, covering your face with your hands. "I rambled."

"You said everything perfectly," Peter whispered in awe, "How did you - Can you ... I've been wrestling with myself for so long," Peter admitted as his voice broke.

His back was slumped, his shoulders slouching, and he looked so tired. But the light in his eyes let you know he was fully present, and that maybe you'd said something actually right for a change in all your ramblings.

"No one has ever understood what it's like," Peter said, confirming your thoughts, "Well, one person did. And that's ... that's actually what I came to talk to you about. So much has happened today, and after finding out the whole Harry thing ... I just - I need to be honest with you. About everything. You deserve to know."

You stood so quickly Peter startled, but you held up your finger, "One moment."

He waited patiently as he heard you in the kitchen. You were mumbled curse words under your breath, which he could hear, and the scraping of something that had you mumbling, "Fucking Thandie and her fucking - god fucking damn it."

Finally you returned, with a plastic container full of something and two forks.

"Thandie baked me an apology cake," you told Peter, "Go on, sit back," you gestured with your head for Peter to get comfy on your bed, "Do you like carrot cake?"

He nodded.

"Good. She also made buttercream frosting so it's one of her best. But she, well, you'll see the ... icing."

Peter almost burst out laughing.

Thandie's neat writing of 'sorry I made your -------- talk about his ex-boyfriend who is your ex-boyfriend' had been smudged, and Peter pointed to the word that you had messed with.

"Did this say bitch? Or asshole? Maybe man-whore?" Peter asked, watching as you wrinkled your nose in annoyance.

"Well she wrote 'boyfriend' which I told her you weren't my boyfriend, but she still wrote it anyway because it fit so perfectly I guess, but I didn't want you to feel pressured, or think that's what I was expecting or ... or anything," you slowly pattered off, clearing your throat.

Peter chuckled, "I love it."

"Okay," you nodded, adjusting yourself so you were leaning against your pillows and facing Peter, "What do you need to tell me?"

"If we're going to ... to be anything," Peter started, "Then you should know why -"

"Your commitment issues?" you nodded, only then realizing your outburst and mumbled, "Sorry. Please continue."

Peter's lip twitched in a smile before he cleared his throat.

"My girlfriend died," Peter told you, "My first girlfriend. The first girl I ever loved. She ... She was killed. It was my fault too."

"Cindy," Peter breathed, his voice wobbling as he said her name, "Cindy Moon. She was - my best friend," he choked out, "We did everything together, and we grew up together. She was there for me through my parents' death," Peter spoke slowly, "We lived in the same neighborhood before I moved in with May and Ben."

He stared out the window, "We went to school together all our lives. When high school started we had to do this project about our family, and I started digging into my parents a bit more and what they did. I found out they'd worked for OSCORP at the time of their deaths, so I ... well, I hacked into a bunch of stuff and Cindy helped me. We got these passes to be part of this tour group and we got lost."

Peter rubbed the back of his neck right at the base of his skull, "That's where I got bit by the radioactive spider."

"That gave you your powers?" you asked, trying not to be too pushy.

"Yeah," he nodded, "I thought I was a freak, honestly. But then Cindy came over and started walking all over my walls and telling me she was feeling the exact same symptoms I was feeling and ... well, I've never felt such relief in my life," Peter breathed, rubbing his eyes. "We never left each other's sides after that, honestly."

"Tony brought us in only two months later. It all went well at first and things were fine. We would fight together and we balanced school and spidey life as one, so we weren't alone. She went by Silk," Peter laughed hollowly, "Because I said she moved like silk when she swung through the air."

"God," he shook his head, "She moved so beautifully. She was so graceful. She also used this old silk scarf that was her mom's to cover the bottom half of her face when we'd first started going out together to 'fight crime' in our homemade outfits," Peter smirked, "So the nickname kind of stuck."

"Junior year I realized I was in love with her."

Peter was smiling to himself, picking at the cake half-heartedly with his fork. You'd not moved a muscle, and Peter kept twitching as if his body was trying to break free from the story he was telling.

"Well," he chuckled, "I didn't really have a choice. She kind of told me she was in love with me and asked what I was going to do about it."

You smiled, trying to discreetly wipe a tear away, but Peter wasn't looking at you. He was somewhere else.

"We dated for a year," Peter whispered, "We started dating that summer going into junior year and we dated through the whole year. A perfect year," Peter whispered, staring at your wall as if it was showing the film of his life with Cindy.

He looked haunted.

"She was everything," Peter breathed, closing his eyes, "She balanced me. She knew exactly how I moved and moved along with me. Like ... Like how you can't differentiate one drop of water from another as it flows through a stream. There was this magnetic pull between us and I - well, sometimes I wondered if our love and attraction was chemical because we'd been bitten by the same spider. But then I realized that I'd loved her even before we'd been bitten. I'd loved her all ... all my ... life."

Peter's voice cracked and he didn't talk for a moment. He sat there, eyes closed shut tight, and you wanted to hold him close but figured he needed this moment to himself. So you sat there patiently, watched as Peter let in a ragged, choppy breath, leaning back even deeper into your pillows.

"It happened so fast," Peter whispered, "The summer was coming to an end. We were ... We were talking about colleges."

Peter pushed his legs out in front of him, stretching out as he cleared his throat, "This guy approached me. Ezekiel Sims. This big businessman who ... who had kind of figured out who I was somehow. He'd had powers when he was younger, but they'd faded because he'd experimented on himself. It wasn't a DNA connection like Cindy and I had with the spider. He wanted to run some tests and I refused. The powers I have ... if they're left in the wrong hands, if they're weaponized ..." Peter shook his head, "I knew instantly that I couldn't trust him."

Peter rubbed his eye, "But I found out he was working on all these other animal projects, and when Cin found out she was beside herself. She wanted to be a vet," Peter smiled to himself, "She loved animals. Loved them so much I'd always joked she loved animals more than she loved me. So when she heard about Ezekiel's experiments and how he was trying to make hybrid weapons out of people like us using animal DNA and splicing, she was so hellbent on turning him in that we got ahead of ourselves."

"She made me feel invincible," Peter whispered, "I never thought anything could go wrong as long as we were together."

"So we rushed in. And looking back maybe it was a trap. We thought we could handle him ourselves and we couldn't."

Peter pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes to attempt to keep from crying. You scooted closer to him, and he flinched a bit. He reached out, cupping your face and pulling you closer to him as you leaned agains this side.

"There was the explosion," you offered, "I ... I read about it. I'm so sorry Peter."

"That's the thing," Peter whispered, "It was as if Ezekiel knew what he was doing. He saw her coming, noticed her skill as they were fighting. He pushed me aside like I was nothing and - I mean we had some different powers. Cin had organic webbing. I didn't. She was far more skilled than I was. It came to her so naturally, even though the spider bit me first. Maybe he figured he didn't need me anymore once he had her."

Peter ran his fingertips up and down your arm.

"There was no body," Peter whispered, "The explosion threw me back so far I was unconscious inside the blown open wall when Steve found me and had to pick me out of it. She wasn't there. I could feel it. Ezekiel was gone. Cindy was gone. Scorch marks showed an explosion and ... and I'd felt the power of it. So hot," Peter whispered, "She was ... dead."

Peter closed his eyes, thinking of the last moments he'd spent with the love of his life that he would never get back.

"Okay I have a plan," Cindy smiled, her black hair pulled back in a flowing ponytail, red mask covering the lower half of her face from her nose down. Her eyes were sparkling and dark, and Peter could tell she was smiling behind her mask.

"I hate your plans," Peter moaned, pushing her hand away as she reached out to poke him playfully.

"You love my plans," Cindy scooted closer. They were in a large air duct together, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Baby, this is wrong," Peter whispered, "We should wait for Tony."

"We're strong and capable spiders," Cindy pulled her mask down, showing her face, "Come here and give me a kiss," she pouted.

Peter rolled his eyes, but he stretched his legs out in front of him and allowed Cindy to crawl up to him, smiling widely as she pressed her lips to his.

"You're so hot Peter Parker," Cindy sighed, "No wonder all the girls have crushes on you."

Peter smiled, "Hey now, I have a girlfriend."

Cindy smiled, kissing him again quickly before pulling her mask back up. She handed Peter his mask and adjusted it for him when he'd put it back on.

"Why don't you distract him while I do my thing?" Peter asked.

"Oh good idea. And while I'm with the -"

"Yeah and I'll -" Peter made a gesture with his hands and Cindy nodded.

"That's smart. That could work. What if, like in France when -"

"Oh yeah and that flying kick?" Peter finished.

It was like their own language. It was like they could read each other's minds. Peter had always known their hearts beat in sync, and he wondered time and time again what that spider had done to them. He didn't care. He'd thank that spider, if it wasn't dead. It had brought him to the realization that he'd been made for Cindy, and she'd been made for him.

"You're brilliant," Cindy nodded.

"I love you too," Peter smirked, and their plan kicked into action.

It worked at first.

Peter was letting test subjects go, helping them out of their drugged up stupor, while Cindy swept through the air elegantly and like a ribbon of silk. She dodged every attempt from Ezekiel to bring her down, and Peter could tell that the more Ezekiel used his own powers, which were slightly like theirs only ... different? ... it drained him.

Cindy was going to wear him out.

Peter whistled, calling the all clear that everyone was out, and Cindy perched herself on top of a large filing cabinet. Long legs elegantly squatting and one arm shooting a web to hold Ezekiel to his desk, Peter wondered if Cindy even needed him.

"This dimension is WEAK!" Ezekiel screamed, and slammed his fist onto something on the lab table.

The entire place started to rattle, and Cindy wobbled, falling to the ground right at Ezekiel's feet. He bent down so quickly and grasped her around the neck, lifting her into the air. She struggled, but it seemed futile, and Peter could feel like he was suffocating as the vibrations were tearing through his body.

A crack in the floor opened up, and Peter nearly toppled into it. He tried to shoot his web to get across, but his web kept catching on things that were falling into the ever widening crack.

"You brought this on yourself," Ezekiel snarled now holding Cindy by the neck as she struggled under the pressure of the energy beam he was holding her by.

"Say goodbye to your boyfriend."

Cindy's eyes met Peter's, and he tore his mask off, his panicked eyes meeting hers. He had to get over there. He could easily just launch himself if he could find something to hold onto and catapult ...

But no, Peter could read Cindy like a book. He knew every little detail of her entire body, and the look on her face gave it away.

They'd lost.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, but Peter could hear it over the carnage around them, "I love you so much."

"NO!" Peter screamed, as a light started to burn brightly around Ezekiel and Cindy, "CINDY! NO!"

And then Peter felt the white hot flash of the most pressure he'd ever felt slamming into his body, sending him careening at such a speed that he crashed through two walls before landing in a third, concrete falling all around him, as Peter blacked out.

"Peter?" you whispered, pulling him out of his darkest memory.

You were sitting there so patiently, watching him carefully, and Peter felt like he could actually cry. He'd cried during the explosion when he'd woken up without his arm. But it had been more screaming than actually just crying.

He hadn't cried since Cindy's funeral.

"I'm sorry," Peter whispered, "That's ... That's it."

"I'm sorry you lost her Peter. She seemed really vibrant and wonderful."

"She was," Peter nodded, "I ... I think she would have liked you."

"That's reassuring," you laughed, softly trailing your fingers along his scalp. "Thank you for telling me."

"I want to be with you," Peter whispered, turning to face you and cupping your face, "I really do. I've never - It's been a while," Peter admitted, "I feel lost and used with everyone else, or like I'm playing some role."

You nodded, "I see you."

Peter sighed, slumping against you as his face rested in the crook of your neck. You held him in your arms, running your hand up and down his back soothingly.

"That's all of me now," Peter mumbled, "That's my last secret."

"Thank you for opening up and trusting me. I'm honored, Peter. Really."

"You deserve it. You deserve much more than me," Peter admitted, looking up at you, "You know that right?"

"We deserve what we accept and hold close," you shrugged, "So if you do those two things for me and I do them for you, then who cares what we deserve? We'll at least be happy."

"How are things so simple when you say them?"

You kissed Peter's forehead, "Things are simple if you're with the right people."

Peter pushed up a bit and pressed his lips to yours. They moved slowly, and his hand delicately rested on the juncture of your neck and collarbone, thumb warmly running along your skin.

"You're anything but simple," Peter whispered.

You smirked, "We'll figure out if that's a compliment or not in the morning."

Peter fell asleep easily, which you were grateful for, but you got up quickly to return the carrot cake to the fridge and take a moment to breathe. It was all out in the open now. All your secrets and all of Peter's. But you couldn't stop yourself from feeling uneasy. How could you ever compete for Peter's attention when it was already devoted to his past love?

You suddenly found yourself sitting alone in then kitchen at 2am Googling everything and anything you could find about Cindy Moon.

She'd been gorgeous with her long silky black hair, beautiful smooth skin, and rich chocolate colored eyes. She'd worn skirts and seemed to like a good silk blouse, but you'd seen photos of her in hoodies and leggings where she shone just as bright. She'd worn ribbons in her hair to pull it back from her beaming face.

Her parents were immigrants from South Korea, and they'd raised her to be a strong, independent thinker with a brilliant mind. You saw countless photos of her at Midtown Tech in tributes and articles to her after her 'fatal car accident.' There was a photo of her with the Debate Club, where she had her arm swung around MJ's shoulders as they both smiled smugly at the camera.

Then you found her Instagram - still live, but obviously not having been posted on for years.

The last photo was a photo of her and Peter, standing on the rooftop of a building together. She was wearing his Midtown hoodie with his name on the sleeve, and Peter had his head buried in her neck, but you could still see he was smiling wide as she was laughing, head thrown back and hair flowing in the wind.

In 99% of those photos, Peter had been standing next to her, smiling just as wide, and usually looking at her in awe.

@cindymoon: the laws of attraction are bullshit. i'm only here for peter parker's hoodies.

Peter may have decided in this moment to hang up his heart for you, but you had a sickening suspicion that in the morning when the weight of the world once again knocked on your door, Cindy's presence would still linger in whatever relationship you were attempting to build.

But then you walked back to your bedroom and you saw Peter sitting up a bit, bleary eyed, and looking around until he saw you in the doorway.

"I missed you," he whispered, "Where'd you go?"

You shrugged, climbing into bed as you yawned. Peter pulled you to him, kissing you softly.

"Can I ask something awkward?" Peter asked.

You nodded, nose bumping his slightly.

"Do you mind if I take off my arm?"

"Why would I mind? Of course, if you feel the most comfortable."

Peter looked relieved. "I don't like people seeing me without it. But you're you. I don't feel whole without the arm on, but you make me feel ... more whole? I don't know," Peter yawned, "I know it sound stupid."

"Not at all," you breathed, warmth spreading through your chest. "Want me to do it?"

You crawled on top of him as Peter twisted his torso a bit, angling his metal arm towards you. "Same as my lab combination," he mumbled sleepily, and you watched as small numbers appeared on the blue band. You typed them in, and a whirring noise hitched before the arm detached.

You placed it on the ground, leaning over Peter to do so, and he kissed your shoulder while you did so.

"Thank you," he breathed, "I've never been more comfortable than I am right now, peaches. Thank you."

And, for the first time since you'd met Peter Parker, (even counting the time you'd met him at the bus stop) you'd never seen Peter look so content. He was beaming, even in his sleepy state, and when his half-lidded eyes landed on you, his smiled wonkily.

"What are you smiling for?" he asked, tapping your cheek with his finger.

You shook your head, flopping down on his chest as you wrapped your one arm around his torso, hugging him close.

"Nothing. Just realized something."

"What?"

"That you actually want to be here."

Peter was quiet for a moment, before he laughed lightly, jostling you with his right arm slightly as you squealed.

"I don't think there's anywhere else I'd rather be, peaches."

You knew there were a lot of things you needed to worry about, but as Peter held you and you held him, you realized that Cindy Moon was not one of them.

* * *

"And I wanna thank you, yes, I wanna thank you. For making me see the light. And oh, I wanna thank you. Yes I'm gonna thank you. For the rest of my life. I just wanna love you more and more. That's just one thing I wanna do. I wanna hang up my heart, my heart, for you." - Solomon Burke

* * *

author's note: thank you all for reading ! i'll be answering questions about the series on tumblr & you can leave any comments or thoughts or anything you'd like here ! i'd love to hear what your thoughts are on the story & i look forward to writing some more !

thanks so much !