Summary: On her way to a lunch date, Michelle encounters a subway gunman and it goes about as well as you'd expect.

Falling into a routine after graduation had been easy, all things considered. Classes had ended, but they weren't without things to do. Instead of going to ESU for labs, Peter swung downtown to the Tower. Instead of taking the bus to ESU to attend a lecture, Michelle took the subway to a newsroom where she wrote the next day's pieces instead of essays.

There were some things, of course, that were more difficult, but that was just part of taking on real jobs in place of university coursework. Even if Peter's workload consisted mainly of labwork with Tony, he still had patrol in the evenings and Michelle had a job to go to the next morning no matter how injured he was. Unlike lectures, work was harder to skip out on when her boyfriend was lying in the Tower med bay. Fortunately, there had yet to be such an instance as Peter had gotten considerably better at not throwing himself in front of a gun.

One thing that had been harder to continue, unfortunately, was dates. Evenings were out of the picture thanks to Spider-Man, but they'd been able to have lunch dates while still at ESU. Now, with Michelle working in Brooklyn and Peter spending most of his days either downtown at the Tower or overseas on a mission, lunch dates were harder to come by.

"I'm leaving right now," Michelle said, her phone pinched between her cheek and her shoulder as she hastily grabbed her bag. She had one hour before she had to be back for a meeting, but she was determined to meet Peter for lunch at least once this week.

"We're still meeting at Andy's, right?" Peter asked. There was a muffled grunt followed by a quiet, "Hey, Karen!"

"You're swinging there?" Michelle asked with a small frown.

"I'm downtown," Peter explained, "it'll be faster."

Any excuse to get a bit of patrolling in, Michelle mused to herself.

"Alright," she hummed. Hurrying down the stairs to the subway, she said, "I'll see you there. Entering the subway now."

After a short goodbye, Michelle slipped her phone back into her bag and pushed through the subway crowds to catch her train. One stop later, she stepped out of the train car and made her way through the crowd to her connection. She had seconds to get from her current platform to the next and despite nearly running, she still missed the train. With a grumble, she glanced at her watch. It would be five minutes before the next one arrived, eating into her date with Peter, but she could likely convince him to swing her back to the office. If he was in the suit, he might as well.

She waited impatiently for the next subway, tapping her toe and checking her watch too often. As the platform filled up around her, she grew still and found herself searching the crowd instead of glancing at her watch. People were still moving to and fro across the platform, but Michelle's toe stopped tapping and an anxious buzzing filled her chest.

Peter was the one with the abilities and the danger sense, but Michelle liked to think it had rubbed off on her in the years since they'd gotten together. Perhaps it was paranoia, but as her eyes flickered over those who were waiting alongside her, an uneasy feeling settled in her gut.

To her left, there was a flicker of light on metal and a man reached for his belt. His hand stayed under his jacket as he slipped through the crowd, coming nearer to where the majority of people were waiting around her.

Behind her, the track rattled, signaling the incoming subway, and people took a step forward. A few paces away, the man pulled his hand from under his jacket and her heart plummeted.

Gun.

She dove at the man before he'd even raised his hand. Call it brave, call it self-sacrificial but either way, she shouldered her way through the crowd and plowed into the man as a single gunshot echoed around the platform.

Around her, people screamed and the arriving subway came to a halt, letting more people onto the platform as she dragged the man to the ground. He grunted, but Michelle tore the gun out of his hand and sent it skidding across the platform. Someone appeared at her side, helping her roll the man onto his stomach and pinning him to the ground. It wasn't until she saw a flash of a badge that she realized the person who had helped her had been an officer, already reciting the man's rights and locking a set of handcuffs over his wrists.

Gasping at the adrenaline rush, Michelle sat back on her knees. Her heart pounded and her fingertips buzzed with adrenaline, but the gun was well out of reach and the officer already had the man detained. No one had been hurt and only one shot had gone off―

When she tried to breathe in relief, a crippling pain shot from her abdomen up her shoulders and around her ribs. She choked, bringing a hand to cover the pain in her side and glancing down.

"Someone call an ambulance!"

"She's been shot!"

Shouts erupted around her as Michelle stared down at the blood slowly seeping through her shirt. She tried to breathe again only for the sharp pain to race through her body again.

Goddammit, she thought, biting down hard when another wave of pain washed over her. Goddammit, goddammit, goddam―

"I found Spider-Man!"

"God-fucking-dammit," Michelle muttered out loud, squeezing her eyes tight.

When she looked up, sure enough, Spider-Man was being pulled down the stairs and onto the scene.

He must have been swinging overhead, Michelle found herself thinking.

It only took Peter a second to find her in the crowd. At the sight of her on her knees with blood spilling over her hand and staining her shirt, Peter's suit lenses widened. He was at her side a breath later and as badly as Michelle wished he hadn't found her in such a predicament, she couldn't deny the immediate calm that his presence brought.

"MJ!" he gasped. One of his hands tangled in her hair and the other covered her hand at her side. "MJ, what the―what happened―what―"

"Got shot," she breathed, trying to smile for his sake. Even with his mask on, Michelle could imagine the wild, panicked look that had to be spilling over his face as his eyes darted from her bleeding abdomen to her face.

"Goddammit, Michelle," Peter said, his voice cracking.

"That's what I thought too," Michelle teased.

Instead of responding, Peter pulled her hand from her side and shot a web over the wound. Michelle gasped at the impact, but Peter was lifting her up into his arms a moment later and it was such a relief to be with him that the pain briefly subsided.

"Karen, call Tony," Peter instructed. His voice cracked again and as he rushed out of the subway station, Michelle momentarily wondered how he was going to swing them both to the Tower.

A second later, her question was answered as the Iron Spider legs appeared and held her tightly against Peter's chest, freeing his hands to swing them both across the city.

They arrived at the Tower in a flurry. Michelle hardly had the energy to process exactly what happened as Peter stumbled onto the landing deck of the Tower and burst into the med bay with her in his arms. By the time she realized there were doctors surrounding her, she was already on a gurney and Peter was talking a mile a minute above her. A doctor said something, pulling him out of her sight and lowering something over her face. When Michelle took another shaky and pained breath, her eyes fluttered closed and didn't reopen.

* * * * *

Peter fidgeted. From the moment he'd been pulled away from Michelle's side and escorted into a waiting area, he hadn't stopped fidgeting and pacing. It wasn't until a doctor arrived, finally allowing Peter to go back into Michelle's recovery room, that his pacing stopped.

Before the doctor had even finished giving him a report on how Michelle was doing, Peter had already set himself up at her bedside and pulled her hand into his. Her eyes were open, much to Peter's relief.

"God, MJ," Peter murmured, pulling her hand up to his lips. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I didn't really," she admitted, her voice barely audible. "I just―there was a gun and I―"

She tried to shrug only to grimace at the movement. If Peter had had the intention of scolding her, the thought was cast from his mind immediately at the sight as he instead focused on making sure she was comfortable.

"That was really fucking stupid, Em," he whispered. He leaned forward, burying his nose in her hair and taking a shaky breath. "You could have died."

"So could so many others," Michelle answered softly. Slowly, her hand reached up to tangle in Peter's curls, holding him against her.

"But this is you―"

"I still could have been shot," she argued. "If I hadn't jumped him, others could have been shot and I might have been one of them anyway."

"MJ―" Peter huffed, pulling away to look at her.

"I only did what you would have," Michelle insisted and Peter bit his lip. "Don't you dare argue with me on this, Peter."

He didn't, but he did bury his face back in her neck and take a deep breath. There'd be nightmares to deal with, but that was a problem for later. Right here, right now, with Michelle's warmth against him and the steady thump of her heartbeat in his ear, he could push the image of her bleeding out far from his mind. She was breathing, she was alive, and that was enough for now.