Spider-Man really does tend to solve every problem, Peter thought as he swung down from Avengers Tower, the city blowing past him as he webbed his path. The sun was shining pleasantly, heating the skin beneath his suit quite nicely despite the bite in the air. He knew winter was coming, so he made sure to appreciate Spider-Manning in this nice weather just a bit more.

But not too soon did his first crime to stop appear.

"Help! Someone-! He took my purse!"

Ah, we love a petty street crime.

Peter took course after the accused, swinging rapidly to catch up. He spotted a young woman, with hair bleach-blonde, running after an even younger man with a hoodie pulled tightly over his head. He could be seen fleeing from the woman with a bag clenched beneath his elbow. With one last web, Peter was able to launch himself forward. He released the web and landed right in front of the thief.

  "Last time i checked, when a woman says 'stop,' it means 'stop,'" Spider-Man quipped, holding out a hand lazily for the purse. "Now, you've had your fun so hand it over."

  The thief glanced behind him at the women rapidly making her way through the thick New York crowd before looking back at the vigilante. "Fuck off, Spider-Brat," he growled and shoved Peter aside. Peter stumbled but regained his composure fast enough to sprint after him.

The thief ran a few yards before turning off into an alley. Spider-Man followed close behind, ducking in time of his spider sense screaming in his head. A bullet whizzed over his head and he sidestepped another one on his left.

"Whoa!" Spider-Man cried as he leaped over a dumpster. "I don't think a purse is worth my life, man!"

The thief ignored him and continued to shoot his way further into the alley.

Peter grit his teeth beneath his mask. Dodging knifes was one thing, but bullets? Even with his spidey sense he was cutting it close.

Spider-Man somersaulted off the wall, bullets fly by him. His spidey sense was wailing in his head like a constant fire alarm, but he didn't have the time to focus on any one flare. He had to keep moving.

The closer he got to the thief though, did his shots get more sporadic. Peter found himself sweating trying to evade them all. He was pushing himself to the limit, adrenaline pumping through his brain like he'd just shot up a drug. Before he knew it, his spidey sense was just a full throb at the base of his neck, masked by the fear and excitement of dodging bullets like raindrops.

The vigilante shot a web, the sticky substance making its way through the air to connect with the dainty leather purse clutched in the thief's hand. Spider-Man pulled up on the web, throwing himself backwards into the wal. His feet struck the brick wall, the purse hit his chest, and he scrambled up and over the edge of the building to collapse on the other side.

But, with every rush of euphoria, came the crashing sensation of reality. The surge of adrenaline was quick to wear off, leaving a familiar ache in the boy's bones. He pulled in ragged breaths, trying to fight off the exhaustion clawing at the back of his eyelids. He knew he'd been injured-he recognized the feeling of his body shutting down.

Peter blinked rapidly behind his mask. He was badly wanted to rip the damn thing off. He craved fresh air. But his arms felt like pillars of lead attached to his shoulders.

"Mr. Parker," came Karen's mechanical voice from inside the mask. The sound echoed around In Peter's head, the words coming through sluggishly. "It seems you have been shot in a vital area. You are in critical condition. Calling Boss."

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, stray tears slipping down his cheeks. "No," he managed to choke out. "No...I'm fine. D-don't call him."

"Mr. Parker-"

Peter reached up and blindly tore off his mask. The bite of New York air slapped him across the face, instantly bringing blood to the surface of his cheeks and nose. He pulled in lungfuls of the smog greedily, hoping it'd be enough for him to maintain consciousness. Enough for him to find the wound and fix it.

With a quick glance up and down his body, Peter located the bullet wound. It was quite obvious with the puddle of blood pooling around it. The right side of his abdomen was blown open, exposing muscle and bone and gushing blood like nothing he'd ever seen. The teenage boy in him couldn't help but gag at the sight.

  Thinking quick on his feet, Peter peeled down his suit so it hung bunched up right above the wound. He then proceeded to rip off one of the spandex sleeves and wrap it around his waist in a way to staunch the bleeding. He tugged the material tight, biting back a scream. Already though, was blood seeping through.

"God dammit," Peter muttered, reaching for his discarded mask. He didn't want to call Tony, hell, he didn't want to call anyone. But he knew if he let this injury go, he'd end up being a lot worse off. Peter had been through a lot; there was only so much more his body could take before shutting down for good.

Peter reluctantly pulled the mask back over his head, mechanical eyes twitching to fit his sensitive eyes. The darkness at the edge of his vision ebbed away as his head cleared. The mask was good at containing his enhanced senses, but it also seemed to clear them as well. Everything around him came into sharper focus, and he was able to hear past the blood pounding in his eyes. He pulled in a lungful of musty air, letting his body wallow in the feeling of being alive before making the deadly phone call.

  "Karen-?"

  That was when Peter spotted a figure perched on the edge of the building a ways to his right.

  "Yes, Mr. Parker?"

The figure was taller, sitting hunched over on the lip of the building, feet disappearing over the edge. They seemed to leaning out into the open air, as if hoping it would engulf them.

"Mr. Parker?"

"Not now, Karen," Peter breathed as he shot to his feet. Pain spiked down his side but he could barely feel it over the pure fear driving him forward. "Hey." He cried. "Hey!"

The figure turned almost lazily, their head tilting to expose a mane of wild curls. Shadows danced across the rooftop, illuminating the features of her face. Her eyes shone, watery like iridescent orbs, and stars danced across her nose. She looked like a celestial, with her scuffed converse and stony composure. She looked like she could hold her breath and the whole world would cease to breathe.

"Spider-Man?" She asked, and her voice hurt the boy's ears. He skidded to an ungrateful stop a throws length away from the girl.

There was a beat of silence between them. Peter recognized her, and he knew she recognized him too. So, why hadn't she said his name yet?

The girl's brown eyes trailed down his body, stopping when his tanned skin turned murky with blood. "Are you okay?" She asked. "You're bleeding."

Peter glanced down, nearly forgotten about the bullet lodged in his side. "Y-yeah," he squeaked. "I'm fine. Are you?"

The girl cocked an eyebrow before turning back to the open fall before them. The sun was officially setting now, painting the sky with an array of reds and oranges.

"What?" She said with a dry chuckle. "You thought i was gonna jump?"

Peter shrugged, feeling almost attacked. "It's my job to make sure everyone in New York stays safe, even from themselves."

"Pssht." The girl rose from her seat, pulling herself up to her full height. She towered over Peter by at least a few inches. "Yet, here you are, coming to save me with a bullet in your stomach."

Peter was fuming beneath his mask. Why was she coming after him like this? He was just trying to be a good person! "I said I'm fine."

"You've always been a terrible liar, Parker," MJ spat as a final retort before pulling the wrap from around Peters waist. The blood rag fell at his feet, fresh blood bubbling up from the wound.

"What the hell, MJ?! I was trying to make it home with that?" Peter exclaimed.

MJ gestured to the edge of the building. "Sit," she demanded. "We're gonna do this properly."

  Although rather reluctantly, Peter obeyed and perched on the lip of the building. He knew he wouldn't fall, and even if he did he could catch himself easily. But the scare of thinking MJ was gonna jump was still a pounding mantra in the back of his brain.

Save her.

Save her.

Save her.

Save yourself.

  "But why?" Peter asked timidly as MJ pulled a bandana out of her back pocket(for style) and starting wrapping Peter's side. "Aren't you mad at me?"

  MJ snorted. "And aren't you mad at me?"

  Peter pursed his lips. "I guess you're right."

  MJ nodded. "Of course i am, I'm always right. So, let's just pretend that neither of us are mad and I'm just a girl helping out New York's very own friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."

  Peter couldn't help but smile. He pulled off his mask now that he knew his identity was safe with the girl sitting across from him. "Yeah, okay."

  MJ finished tying the wrap with expertise. When Peter got up again, almost no blood came to the surface.

  "Damn!" He said. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

  A pink tint rose to MJ's dark cheeks, barely noticeable in the dimming light of the setting sun. "After i found out you were Spider-Man, i watched some videos on how to fix basic injuries. Thought it'd come in handy."

Peter could only stare, mouth slightly ajar, as he processed just what MJ was saying. This girl, with a glass mind and ice in her heart, confessing perhaps a secret.

"Can't we just pretend..," Peter started. "That I'm not Spider-Man and you didn't ruin this?"

MJ gave the tiniest of nods and tucked a stray stand of hair behind her ear. "So who are we now?"

Peter shrugged before leaning in. His lips barely brushed MJ's, the sensation sending tingles down his spine. For a moment, all they did was breathe each other in until MJ deepened the kiss. She cupped either side of Peter's face, running her long fingers through his sweaty curls. They kissed each other desperately, practically starved of each other.

Peter pulled MJ into his chest, breaking this kiss to meet her eyes. He felt like crying.

"What?" MJ asked, voice breaking.

Peter didn't know how to describe the feeling. He felt like he was having an out-of-body experience. This wasn't his life. He didn't get the girl. He got the pain instead.

"N-nothing," he answered, glancing away. He looked back. "Can i kiss you again?"

MJ smiled, the happiness in her touching her eyes and giving them a healthy glow. "Always," she said before touching her lips to his once more.

9/28/19