"Okay, so what you're trying to tell me, is that that whole inter-galactic war thing that you were going on about wasn't a lie?"

Peter grinned, dropping his bag down beside MJ's bed. He gave a quiet sigh, heart still beating abnormally fast from the station.

"You thought I was lying?" He asked, in mock offence. Michelle shrugged from her seat at her desk. Her eyes flitted from her laptop back to Peter again.

"Hey, guys, I have some blueberry muffins, if you...want any." MJ's mom suddenly said, opening Michelle's bedroom door and raising her eyebrows at Peter.

"Yeah, no. We're not hungry, Mom—" Michelle began, cheeks red.

"How'd you get in?" Mrs Jones asked curiously, pointing at Peter. The teens eyes widened, pointing his own finger at his chest.

"Me?" He asked, his voice a few pitches higher than normal. Mrs Jones nodded, eyebrows knitting together further.

"I, uh...um, I just—"

"He came in with Ned, mom." Michelle interrupted Peter, before he could say anything stupid, her tone confused. Gee, she was good at acting. Maybe she should take it up.

"Yeah. Yeah." Peter breathed, nodding his head frantically.

Michelle's mom nodded her head slowly, still suspicious, before closing the door behind her as she wandered back to the lounge.

MJ turned to Peter, annoyed. "I told you, you shouldn't have come in through the window." She muttered, throwing a scrunched-up piece of paper at Peter. Ned giggled.

"Did you see his face?" Ned asked no-one-in-particular, holding his belly as he continued to laugh. Peter glared at him playfully. "He-he was all like; 'wha...?'" Ned pulled a face, which made MJ smirk.

"Anyway," Peter prompted, trying to lead the conversation away from his embarrassment. He picked at loose strands on his sweater.

"Yeah, anyway, what took you so long to get here, loser?" MJ asked, like it was a throw-away question that she didn't really want to know the answer to. Peter knew otherwise.

"Well, I ran into that Ross guy," Peter's voice wavered with anger – neither Ned or MJ knew what the man had done, "and then when I got to the train station I sort of hallucinated and fell onto the tracks, right as a train was coming—" Ned gasped, "—but someone grabbed me and got me out of the way just in time." Peter smiled sarcastically.

Much to his surprise, Michelle chuckled. But she didn't elaborate as to why, instead sending a knowing glare at Peter – "we're talking later". Peter gulped but didn't press the matter.

"You hallucinated?" Ned exclaimed, eyes wide with...awe? "That's so weird! What did you hallucinate about?" Yep. Definitely awe.

"Um—" Peter began, but-

"And you ran into Ross? What did he want?" Michelle butted in.

"Yeah! Isn't he that accords dude?" Ned asked, slightly excitedly.

"Does...no one care I nearly got hit by a train?" Peter asked playfully, eyes brows scrunched together in mock offence.

"Yeah, well, you didn't actually get hit by it, so there's not much to talk about." MJ muttered, grinning.

"And if I did, I would be dead." Peter exclaimed throwing his hands into the air. He flopped onto MJ's bed, lying down with his arms outstretched. Cold air whooshed through her open window, causing goose-bumps to crawl up his arms. But he enjoyed the moment of silence, that small moment of peace.

But then started tapping his feet against the floorboards. He was never one for silence and always got fidgety when he sat still for two long. Peter let out a breath of laughter, shaking his head slightly at his friend. Michelle groaned.

"Look, how about you go put your stupid Star Wars movie on, Leeds. Peter and I will come down once you've got it ready." Michelle stated, eyeing Peter out the corner of her eye. Peter felt dread in his stomach. It was like he was being condemned to death.

"Okay!" Ned said brightly, grin wide on his face. He pushed himself off the floor and skipped out the door, in a matter of seconds. Peter let out another laugh. Ned was such a nerd.

Like he could talk.

But he was gone now, and Peter began to feel uncomfortable. He could feel Michelle's eyes drilling into the side of his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He lasted about ten seconds before he snapped.

"Just say it, please." He begged, now hating the silence.

"Who are you?"

Hold on.

That wasn't what he expected.

...what the hell does she mean?

"What—?"

"Don't bullshit me. Who are you?" She asked again, her face livid.

Peter sat up quickly, blood rushing to his head and blurring out his vision for just a moment. Once he'd blinked it away, he gave MJ an incredulous look. She was looking at him with raised eyebrows, eyes narrowed sceptically.

"MJ, I have no idea what you're talking about." He said slowly, eyebrows pulled together into a frown.

She opened her mouth to say something, then thought better and closed it again. Peter edged closer to the side of the bed that was closest to her, hand held out in front of him in both comfort and something just short of defence.

"I saw what happened out there. I saw what happened to Peter. And there's no way he would've been able to walk away from that," He hated how MJ was using his own name while talking to him – it felt unnatural, "even with his super-healing and whatever else." She finished, neck taut, and chin lifted high.

But he was beginning to understand...sort of.

"I'm here, Michelle," Peter murmured, creeping even closer so that he was sitting right on the edge of the bed and sitting right next to MJ, "okay, it's me. I'm Peter." His voice sounded strangely low in his ears, and he spoke with such caution that he probably didn't even sound like himself. He was only making it worse.

"What do you mean?" Michelle croaked. Peter's heart shattered – he'd never heard such fragility and vulnerability in her voice before, and it broke him that he was the one who brought it out.

Or maybe, if it'd been under different circumstances, it might have been a privilege.

Before he realised what he was doing, Peter reached out his hand. He wrapped in gently but firmly around Michelle's wrist, ignoring how she flinched slightly. She looked up at him now, eyes wide but clear.

"I know it might be slightly hard to believe, but it's okay. I'm not..." Peter couldn't finish. He couldn't bring himself to say the word 'dead'. There was already too much death in his life.

"How?"

Peter swallowed. "You probably don't want to know."

"I mean, probably not, but you're still gonna tell me."

"Or what?"

"Or...just tell me!" Wow. For once Michelle Jones couldn't find the right words. Peter grinned. Then grimaced.

"Cauterization, then spending the rest of the war in the intensive care unit." Peter said simply, shrugging.

Michelle nodded, looking incredulously at Peter. "And how long was it before the war finished?"

"Like, twenty-three hours." Peter replied.

"So...it took you twenty-three hours to heal all of your broken bones and stab wounds and whatever else. I didn't realise your super-dooper fast healing abilities were that advance—"

"And cauterization—"

"—and further, you look good as new, like nothing even happened. I mean, are you made of brick or something—"

"—which was fun. I do not suggest it, by the way. Very, very, not fun to have to go through."

"—so, right now, nothing is adding up." Michelle finished, but then faltered. "Cauterization?" She whispered, shocked.

"Yes, that's what I said. Like, three times – but you weren't listening." Peter sighed, shuddering slightly.

"How did you do it?"

"Well, Tony had to do it with his blaster-thingy's. We couldn't really wait until medics arrived. And anyway—"

"His blaster-thingy's?" Michelle yelled, then winced, "Sorry, his blaster-thingy's?" She repeated, quieter this time.

"Yeah, not good." Peter nodded, biting his lip.

Michelle nodded, seemingly lost in deep thought. Peter looked at his twisting hands, a small smirk creeping onto his face at MJ's surprise. At least she cared, right? Actually, no. Code red, code red – care wasn't a thing. She didn't care, he didn't care, everything was good.

"When was the last time you showered?" Michelle suddenly said. Peter's stomach swooped, eyes widening and his heart thumping. He gulped, but shook his head, trying to clear his suddenly racing head.

"Like, this morning...w-why?" Goddamn his stupid brain, goddamn him. His ears were red.

"You smell terrible." Michelle said, and Peter released a relieved breath of air he didn't even know he'd been holding.

"Oh, um, th-thanks?"

Hang on, hold that thought-

"Wait, that wasn't a compliment." Peter mumbled more to himself than MJ, of whom slapped a hand to her head in embarrassment.

"Yeah, no, you wreak of anxiety." Michelle said, stretching her arms out with a yawn. Peter spluttered – how could she say that so meaninglessly, like how you would say "I'm tired" or something like that? He quirked his eyebrows at her.

"I—"

"Don't even try to deny it, Parker. Or whatever your name is."

"MJ, I'm not some imposter possessing a body, plotting how to kill everyone and all that..." He trailed off, knowing how stupid he sounded, "not my best analogy, but I'm me. Okay, I'm Peter Parker, I don't even know why this a debate."

"I'm only messing with you, loser." Michelle smirked.

"You know, I really don't appreciate your name-calling." Peter said.

"Okay then, does Spandex-butt sound better to you? Or maybe something a little jazzier like Peter—"

"That's still considered name calling, you know." Peter sighed but joining MJ's smile with one of his own. It was silent for a moment, but neither of them broke eye contact.

The strong gusts of wind outside crashed against the open window, making an annoying rattling noise and Peter could hear Ned talking to Michelle's mom from down the hall. There was something cooking on the stove – he could hear the bubbling – and Peter presumed it was dinner. He suddenly wished he could stay, but—

"Show me."

Peter stopped breathing for a moment. "Show you what?" He asked, although he knew exactly what she was talking about. And he knew that she knew that he knew what she was talking about.

"Don't be a dumbass, Peter." Michelle said. Peter, she said. She said Peter. And that Peter's stomach fluttered with butterflies.

"I thought you didn't like using bad words?" Peter said.

"I believe words are powerful, and should only be used when truly necessary, in order to manipulate and emphasise certain parts of what you're trying to say, so that those parts stay within the person-your-talking-to's memory."

Woah, okay, then. He always got a lot more than he bargained for when it came to Michelle Jones. He liked it.

"So, you thought calling me a dumbass would make me feel more obligated to oblige—?"

Michelle glared at him. Peter obliged.

Checking for a second if Ned or Michelle's mom would materialise in the bedroom, Peter reached for the hem of his shirt, fingers shaking slightly. He pulled his shirt over his head, screwing up his face in pain when his torso screamed in protest.

"Oh." Was all MJ said. Peter nodded his head slowly, looking down at himself with his white shirt still bunched in his hand. She was blinking deeply, making Peter's cheeks light up with humility.

She got up from her desk, and sat down on the bed next to Peter, who twisted slightly so she could examine it. She reached out a hesitant hand, looking up at Peter with quizzical eyes. Peter nodded shortly, 'yes, you may touch it'.

She did just that, only letting her fingertips brush gently over Peter's stomach. She traced the scars, all the way up to his shoulder, eyes wide. She seemed to be lost for words, while Peter prayed silently but desperately that no one would walk in them right now, because that would give them a very wrong idea as to what was going on right now.

"Well, that's way more impressive than I thought it would be." Michelle smirked up at Peter, who nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, the ruined tissue is mostly from the cauterization, but—"

"No, not that – the scars and that are really underwhelming – but this," she actually pointed at his body, opening her hand in a sweeping gesture, "this is impressive."

Peter blanched, "You-what? It's...what is-I m-mean, I don't...it comes from all the-look, I don't-I don't..." His whole body tingled with embarrassment and right now, all he wanted to do was crawl under a rock and die, because god, why can't he just talk like a normal human being? But then why did she even say that-?

MJ was cackling, only confusing Peter more. "I-I love making you uncomfortable." She gasped out in between heaves.

Peter made a noise not dissimilar to 'humph', but either way, he folded his arms over his chest, trying to cover it up a bit.

"Alright, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Michelle composed herself, still grinning from ear to ear. Peter didn't reply, just let his heart fall back to it's normal beat. "I feel really bad now." Michelle stated.

"Yeah, well..." Peter sighed, shaking his head mockingly.

"I was being sarcastic. It was hilarious."

"Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome."

"You never stop, do you?" Peter snapped.

"Only if you make me."

Peter paused and so did Michelle, both surprised at what she said. MJ coughed quietly, sticking her hands between her thighs awkwardly.

"You didn't tell me, though." She whispered eventually.

Peter groaned inwardly. "I know. I should've, but I didn't think you'd really care enough."

MJ started, furiously. "You didn't think I'd care? I cared so fricking much that I literally couldn't sleep while you partied off in space. And when you came home – thank the lord – it took everything I had not to scream and punch you into a bloody pulp for not telling me where you were going!"

Peter cast his eyes to his hand on her wrist, pursing his lips.

"So, Th-Thanos can't kill me, but you can beat me into a bloody pulp?" Peter asked and was ignored.

"So, don't you dare think I don't care about you, loser." She finished, letting out a short breath of annoyance.

"That was a very contradicting sentence. You literally said you care about me, then called me a loser."

"You love it."

"I don't!"

MJ glared at him and Peter crumbled under her eyes. He forced himself to remain as still as possible, even though every ounce of him wanted to jump out the window, because yes, he did sort of maybe possibly kind of love it. But it would be completely different if Flash called him a loser. He would hate it if Flash called him a loser.

And Michelle noticed his struggle.

In fact, she noticed a lot of things. She spent most of her time observing things, rather than talking to them.

But she could talk to Peter. She didn't know why. He was different – he was a hero, he was a super-human. He was definitely different. But maybe he was different in a different way. Maybe he was different because he had a real heart and he used it.

It was as simple as that.

Peter Parker has a heart, it's just the goddamn world's fault it's been broken so much. She didn't want to be just another crack in his heart.

And that's why, despite what her body was telling her – despite what she so desperately wanted to do; what she's so desperately wanted to do ever since seventh grade – she withdrew.

Cos that's just what you do, isn't it?

As soon as things look south, or as soon as things have a slightly chance that it won't work out, you run away. You hide from it, you avoid it, before it gets toxic.

And that was what Michelle was best at. Running. Not chasing.

She told herself that she won't regret her choice. She told herself that she'll thank herself later that she ignored the urge to lean in and run her fingers through his hair. That's what she told herself.

She won't regret it. She won't regret it.

She regretted it.

--

That was boring, soz. But it's about to get interesting 😉

VERY BERRY SPECIAL THANKS TO @NaluLover262005 FOR COMMENTING AND VOTING SO MUCH – YOU'LL PROBS SEE THIS LATE COS YOU'RE NOT UP TO THIS PART YET, BUT follow this gal. she is lit.

I promise there'll be a lil bit of whump in the next few chapters, to make it more interesting lmao. But please enjoy this chapter for now, and let me know what you think!

Oh and a lil bit of shameless self-promo – I made a new collection of one-shots about post infinity war (don't read unless you've watched) that might make you feel either better or worse.

Anyway, I love all of you, thanks <3

LuvForStydia xx

(P.S. 3K ON LACUNA?? Y'ALL ARE INCREDIBLE, TYSM!!)