Tony Stark had always been Peter Parker's hero.

The teen had watched him on the news, when he was only young, just having escaped Afghanistan. The billionaire had just announced that he won't be selling or manufacturing weapons anymore. That was when he became Peter's idol.

Not when he revealed that he was Iron Man. Sure, being Iron Man was a bonus – with a much higher pay-grade – but Peter still only ever wanted to see the Tony Stark.

Then, when he heard that the Expo was happening, he had begged his aunt and uncle to take him. They had agreed almost immediately, not having seen Peter so excited since after his parents died.

He had nearly fainted when Tony had given him a noogie, while he was walking out of the theatre, after presenting the Expo.

But days later, he had received the fright of his life. Those Hammer Drones were trying to kill Mr Stark and Peter wanted to help. So, he had shoved on his Iron Man suit, "blaster-thingy's" – as he like to call it – and all. But he hadn't expected any of those Drones to actually mistake him for the really thing.

But then Tony Stark had swooped in a saved him.

Never will he ever forget his words, as he flew away:

"Nice work, kid."

Then suddenly he was bitten by some radioactive spider, had crazy abilities and senses that was completely inhumane, he was creating his own suit, he was saving people-

His uncle was dying-

Then he was being recruited by this same Tony Stark, of whom he had looked up to for years and years, who had no idea about their meeting seven years ago.

Then he was fighting alongside his hero, with a new suit and a new purpose. And that hole that was left behind when Ben had died was slowly patching up.

Then it was re-opened when he messed up. His suit was taken away, and all he wanted to was to prove himself. So, he did. And things began to get better again.

Then he was kidnapped, and he literally died.

But Tony Stark brought him back to life, so maybe he did care. Because he was there for him. He brought him back.

And from that point onward...that whole was patched up. He had made a father out of Tony Stark. And Tony had made a son out of him. Of course, Peter's life wasn't perfect. He wasn't happy, but then again, neither was Mr Stark. But he knew what Peter went through – he went through it himself – and he didn't try to sugar-coat it. God, Peter hated it when people tried to make him feel better. Sometimes he just needed someone to understand. And Tony gave him that.

So, when that bomb went off...

He felt like his entire world was ripped in two.

How much more did Peter have to lose?

How much more did he have to go through before the damn devil was satisfied?

How much more broken did he have to be, for someone to help?

After he had been and gone from the Avenger's hospital clinic, he had stumbled back home in shock. He had lain in bed for hours, just staring back up at the ceiling.

Then May had gotten home and all he had done was smile and give her a warm hug. He hadn't touched his dinner at all. He felt too sick to eat anything.

So, he had gone back to bed. And it was a long time before sleep snuck up on him, but he woke up every half hour or so, screaming and screaming and screaming. Every time he shut his eyes, he saw...he saw his failure.

He saw that he didn't save Mr Stark. He could've protected him. Instead, suit-less Mr Stark used himself as a human-shield to protect Peter!

Ned had called him three times. Peter hadn't answered. He didn't think he could bring himself to talk to his best friend, so carelessly and happy like there was no damn thing wrong in his life, like he did around Aunt May.

But by the fourth time his phone rang, he was over it.

He slapped a hand over it, dragging it to his ear as he lay on top of his sheets. His finger tapped the 'answer' button, with a reluctant sigh.

"Hey, Ned." He tried to say cheerily, but his voice cracked and was way too quiet than he intended.

"Are you high?"

Oh crap.

Oh crappedy-crap-crap-crap. Crap.

That wasn't Ned.

"Uh, Michelle! Hi, um, I thought you were N-Ned." He squeaked, his face reddening despite the fact that MJ couldn't see him.

"Yeah, that was pretty obvious when you called me Ned, loser." She droned through the phone. Peter had half the mind to hang up there and then. As much as he loved it – liked, as much as he liked it – he wasn't too sure if he could handle Michelle's dry sense of humour right now.

"Um, did you-did you want anything?" Peter asked, his voice back to normal pitch, but still abnormally quiet.

"Woah, what's wrong with you?" The reply was in her same monotone voice with so little care in it, but...if she didn't care, then she wouldn't have asked, right?

"N-nothing!" Peter replied quickly. There was a short and very silent-silence, where MJ seemed to be thinking.

"Okay, sure." She said at last, sounding very sceptical and not even trying to hide it. "Anyway, that social sciences project? I was thinking we should get started, I don't wanna fail." She stated, but there was something different about the way she talked. There was no sarcasm and her tone was softer than normal. Like she knew something wasn't right. She was observant like that.

"I-I don't see why not." Peter's voice broke again at 'not'. Surprisingly, Michelle made no comment about it. "So, I'll ask May if you can come to mine, or-or I can go to yours, it doesn't really matter, I guess..."

"Stop drooling, Parker. I'll come to you...don't want you being out in the dark all by your lonesome."

"Yeah, thanks." Peter hummed, sending a virtual eye-roll, which he was sure MJ would receive.

"Be there in five." Then she hung up.

And he was racing around his room, because he only had five minutes to make his messy-as-hell room to look even a little bit hospitable and habited. And even if for a minute, his mind was distracted from Mr Stark.

When the bell rung, he found himself sprinting down the hall, nearly bowling over May in the process. He opened the door himself, his hair completely dishevelled.

Michelle stared back at him, eyebrows raised inconspicuously.

"Hi." Peter breathed. And a wash of emotion washed over him, so strong and sudden and unwanted that he nearly fell to floor. Because why should he be excited? He should be mourning and grieving and crying and screaming, not being happy to see a girl who doesn't even reciprocate his feelings.

"Hi." Michelle replied, but didn't even break into her signature smirk. She just breathed it out, as if out of breath, like Peter had. Maybe she had run up the stairs.

"And who's this-? Oh, Michelle dear, it's wonderful to see you again!" May came trotting around the corner, giving MJ a wide smile of greeting. Michelle waved a little awkwardly but smiled.

"Hey, Mrs Parker."

"Oh, no, no, no, that makes me sound old. Just May's fine." Peter's Aunt laughed, and Michelle nodded.

"Okay, May." She smiled. So did May. Peter stood there somewhat awkwardly.

"Anyway," He interrupted pointedly, "Michelle and I are just gonna go to my room to do some homework!" And only as it was out of his mouth, did he realise how weird it sounded.

"Um, Peter honey, I'm not sure if that's appropriate." May said. He widened his eyes at her innocently.

"Yeah, Parker." MJ chimed in, grinning at Peter.

"May! It's not like that!" He exclaimed, hands in the air.

Michelle was silent next to him.

"Okay...fine. But remember the rule?" May said reluctantly, a smirk creeping onto her face. "'Five metres stops the creepers'!"

"May!" Peter gasped, his eyes wide with horror.

"Just kidding, dear. Go have fun. In a non-sexual way."

Peter didn't reply, just slapped a hand to his forehead. Then he was walking down the hall, glaring at May as he passed. MJ followed closely behind. Once he got to his bedroom, he opened the door, letting Michelle in first.

He didn't close it after them. He knew May would have a freak-out if he did. He'd never hear the end of it.

"Okay, so I was thinking, if I did all the planning and that, then maybe you could do the-?" Peter began, already sitting down at his small desk.

"No. We're going to start off by you telling me what the hell is going on with you."

Peter spun around to stare at MJ. She was sitting on his bed, and Peter expected her to be glaring. But no, she was gazing at him with the softest expression he had ever seen on her. It was so strange, but Peter couldn't look away.

"Why is it, whenever I try to have one normal day in my life, it always ends up like this?" Peter grumbled, tapping his finger against his knee subconsciously.

"You don't have to hide these things from me, you know. Aren't I your friend too?"

Oh God, this was a trap, this was a trap-

"Y-yeah, of course you are, but I-uh-haven't-!"

"You haven't told Ned anything, either, have you?"

Peter shook his head guiltily.

"I bet you haven't told anyone." Michelle mumbled. Peter shook his head again, finally tearing his gaze away from MJ's eyes.

"Peter?"

Never had Michelle ever called him 'Peter'. Never had she ever used that tone before. Peter's eyes snapped back to hers.

"When you were in hospital..." She seemed to be struggling for something to say, for the first time since Peter's known her. "I stayed with you, every single minute of every single hour. You were in a coma for weeks, and you might not have even woken up for years. That's what the doctor said."

Peter was silent, and Michelle continued, never losing that eye-contact. It should be uncomfortable, but it was quite the opposite.

"I thought I'd lost you. But, somehow, May always seemed to have hope that you'd come back to us sooner. I didn't understand it then, but I think I do now." Michelle seemed shocked at her own words coming out of her mouth, let alone Peter, but Peter didn't mind. The only other time he'd seen this side of MJ was when he'd woken up in the hospital bed. But they hadn't even acknowledged that that had happened.

"You're Spider-Man." Michelle said simply. It wasn't a question.

"I am." Peter replied simply.

There was no need for an explanation. There was no need for condolences or arguments. There was no need to deny it. She'd known it for a while, he'd known she knew it for a while, what more was there to it?

Michelle nodded, not looking surprised at all. Peter hadn't expected her to.

"And...May knows, Ned does too. Anyone else, apart from the Avengers?"

"No."

Another loud silence.

"What happened in the hospital...well, I meant what I said. If you even heard it."

"I heard everything."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

More silence.

"Michelle-?"

"My...my little sister," She cut across him smoothly, turning to rummage in her bag, "she loves Spider-Man. You're her hero."

She pulled out a small piece of paper and handed it to Peter.

Peter's heart overflowed with emotion of all sorts.

It was a childish but pretty skilled drawing of Spider-Man, standing in between two girls with his thumbs up. The one to Spider-Man's right was tall with black curly hair, which Peter instantly recognised as Michelle – she was frowning – and the other one was smaller, but almost exactly the same-looking. Peter presumed that was Michelle's sister. She was grinning.

He was about to say something when he noticed, high up in the clouds, a little red and gold suit.

His heart broke.

"Michelle, this is...this is..." He couldn't find the right words, and he was gulping down sobs as they came, his chest hitching quite obviously.

"Peter. Peter, what's going on?"

Peter gripped the sides of the chair in tight fists, so hard his knuckles turned white. He wasn't going to cry, again, because he still had a strip of dignity left. He wasn't going to cry.

Then MJ was getting up from his bed and moving to where Peter sat. She bobbed down in front of him, prying his hands away from the chair, where ten nail marks had punctured the material. But even once they weren't gripping the chair, she didn't let go.

She held his hands in her own, just like she had at the hospital.

"I...I couldn't save him." Peter whispered, eyes transfixed on their entwined hands.

"Who?" MJ asked gently.

"Mr...Mr Stark. I couldn't-I couldn't..." He trailed off, taking two steady breaths. He still wasn't going to cry.

"What happened?" She asked. No comforting, no crying for him, no pity. That's what Peter wanted.

"I...tried to help him. There was an attack on the tower...explosions a-and fire and all that-that stuff. I thought I could help him but I started having some stupid panic attack and the smoke was really thick and I could barely breathe and it was terrifying and-!" He took another breath, and he felt Michelle's hands squeeze tighter around his, steadying them.

"He tried to help me. He got out of his suit, trying to make me snap out of it. And then my senses started blaring but I was too out of breath to do anything."

"The world just sort of slowed and when the-the explosion happened...he was on top of me, pro-protecting me, and...and I did nothing."

He looked Michelle dead in the eye, the will to scream and cry gone almost instantly.

"I failed him. He put so much trust in me and I failed him." Peter whispered, shaking his head.

Michelle nodded her head. Peter was confused at first, unsure of what she meant. Did she think he'd failed Tony? He almost hoped she did. At least she wasn't trying to comfort him yet.

"I...I think everyone fails." She mumbled, her eyes falling to their tangled hands, as she twisted hers under his. She looped a finger through his, glaring at her own hand as if it was betraying her. Maybe it was.

But Peter was listening intently.

"I don't think that's the question." She continued, looking back at Peter. "I think the question is if we have another go."

You know when you listen to your favourite song, right at that perfect moment? Or when, in movies, two people kiss, and it just feels so right? You know those tingles you get on your neck and arms, like goose-bumps rising? That's what Peter had, right now.

He had been told so many times to have another go. To just persevere. But coming from Michelle Jones...it was different. She knew what she was talking about, she understood. Her voice was soft and understanding but not pitying, like so many others. She was upset, because she knew what he was going through. Peter knew her parents were divorced, and she'd lost her aunt, uncle and two baby cousins to a fire years ago. She'd suffered the pain and sorrow of personal loss.

Peter smiled, and it felt so foreign.

"You're actually being...kind. Like, you're showing your emotions." Peter stated in mock awe, not forgetting that they still had their hands pressed together.

"Don't make me regret it, Parker. Sometimes it physically pains me to hold back my sarcastic remarks." She smiled. She didn't smirk or grin...she smiled. Sweet and kind. So unlike her, but so like her at the same time. Nothing made sense to Peter right now.

"Thanks." Peter whispered, smiling back, his eyes fogging up. But the tears wobbling in his eyes were those of gratitude and awe, and not of fear or sadness. For once.

And he barely realised that she was pulling him into a hug, because it didn't feel wrong or out of place. He just leant into her embrace, finally pulling out of their entwined hands to wrap his arms around her. He felt her grip his shirt at his back and all he did was bury his nose into her shoulder, shutting his eyes tight.

It was just a hug. Nothing more. All unspoken words were shared as they hung onto each other.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, when a sound like a fire alarm blared through the silence.

Peter broke away from their embrace and Michelle watched in curiosity as he reached for his phone. He squinted at the caller ID, Michelle looking over his shoulder. His heart jumped into his mouth, when he read it.

"Queen's Memorial Hospital".

--

2 in one day what do you say ;)

Can't say much but thanks for reading.

I have one more chapter planned, then it's the end. A terrible end :))

Can I just say that I refuse to sexualise Peter's relationships, okay? No weird teenage sex, so if you don't like that, then you don't have to read. Why can't two people like each other without sex having to be involved, ya know?

Anyway, ttfn

LuvForStydia xx