#fos fic

“Do you ever just, like—pick things up around the house? Like lift up the couch with one hand while vacuuming, like in The Incredibles?”

“Yeah, sometimes. I actually used to rearrange the furniture whenever it started feeling stale, but May got annoyed and banned me from messing with her apartment layout.”  

“Do those rules apply to an ugly old safehouse?”

He sits up and grins. “Are you asking for a demonstration?”

She messes with her nails. “No.”

She totally is.

He stands and picks up the couch in one quick motion as MJ flails and holds onto the back for dear life.

“PETER!”

“Sorry sorry sorry—” he lowers the couch carefully “—didn’t think that one through.”

MJ’s arms are crossed, but he can tell she’s hiding a smile.

“You want to see more powers stuff?”

She doesn’t reply. He drops down and starts doing fingertip pushups anyway.

“I always thought these were insane before I became Spider-Man—they were one of the first things I tried when I got my powers.”

MJ’s trying very hard to keep a straight face.

“Is this supposed to impress me?”

He lifts his feet up so his body’s in a plank position and hovers, his weight held by nothing but his fingertips.

“Does it not?”

She cracks an involuntary smile, and his insides celebrate like he’s been waiting his entire life to watch her face light up.

He jumps to his feet.

“Kind of awesome, right?”

MJ tilts her head shyly. “Can you do that thing where you walk upside down? I’ve only ever seen it in videos.”

MJ follows Ned into the safehouse living area, trying to keep up with his rambling explanation all the way there.

“…so he said he wanted help fixing Karen’s tracking features, which, obviously I could do, but I had no idea he was going to use it to track someone today, when he’s in danger of being tracked himself, and I just searched the house for him like three times before you got here and he’s gone, and he won’t answer his phone—”

“Can you see if he brought Karen?”

MJ’s trying to stay calm, but she’s as stressed as Ned. Now that Peter’s identity has been revealed, far too many people are out for blood—and it’s not just the angry protestors all over the news. Happy’s had multiple reports of criminal and super villain groups planning their revenge on Spider-Man, and as good a fighter as Peter is, it’s just not safe to be out there fighting crime right now—so the Parkers are in a safehouse until the threats can be minimized.

“I know he has her,” Ned says, “because I tried to get through that way and he has her blocker setting on. I’m going to hack into it, but we need backup once we’re on the call.”

He stands at the kitchen bar and props open his laptop, fingers flying.

“Where’s May?” MJ asks.

“Out walking,” Ned says. “We should find her, see if she can—ah—got it, I’m in.”

Ned has the call on speaker—MJ hears a dial tone as Happy walks in the room.

“Ned,” Peter says, “stop hacking the system. I know what you’re gonna say and I’m fine—everything’s fine, I just have to take care of this one thing—”

“Peter??” Happy frowns as he walks over to the bar. “Kid, what the hell are you doing out?”

“Look guys, I’m going to be back in like a half hour—”

“Dude,” Ned says, “you should have never left in the first place—”

“I’ll be back sooner if you’d leave me alone—”

“Peter,” Happy’s using that stern bodyguard tone, “if you don’t get your ass back to the house—”

“I don’t have time for this right now,” Peter retorts, “I promise you I’m safe. I’m wearing sweats over the suit, and I’m not wearing the mask.”

Ned flashes MJ a pleading look, and she realizes Happy is staring at her, too—they expect her to have some sway over her new boyfriend. She swallows.

“Peter? It’s MJ. Please come back. I don’t know what you’re doing, but—please.”

There’s a pause on Peter’s end, and the three of them hold their breath.

“Sorry, Em. I can’t. There’s an armed mugger the police can’t catch.”

His voice is quieter, les defiant than before—but MJ knows she won’t talk him out of this. She wishes she knew why.

Happy lets out an exasperated sigh. “Peter—this is more dangerous than you think it is, just come—”

“What’s going on?” May enters from outside.

“Oh thank god,” Happy says, “talk to your kid, May, he’s not listening to reason.”

“Peter?” May strides across the room. “Peter Benjamin, why are you—”

The call clicks off.

Everyone goes quiet, and Ned’s tapping away at the keyboard again. He pushes back and looks at May apologetically.

“I can’t get through. He’s using the blocking protocol that I helped him develop. I don’t believe this—”

“That was you??” Happy frowns at Ned, and MJ gets the sense this isn’t the first time he’s tried to get through to Peter and failed.

MJ looks at May. “So…we just wait?”

“If those villains find out Spider-Man’s out in the streets,” Happy says, “he’s risking almost certain death—what’s so important about catching a mugger?”

Understanding washes over May’s face. “Oh.” She puts a hand over her eyes. “Not this again,” she mutters under her breath. She turns and heads for her bedroom. “I’ll get him back, everyone. I’ll override the code.”

Ned looks after her with confusion, but he doesn’t ask how she’ll get through to Peter. MJ wouldn’t ask, either—she’s only been close to Peter for a few months, but she’s already learned that if May Parker says she’s going to do something, she’ll do it.

Happy shakes his head and walks out of the house in a huff, and MJ turns to Ned.

“Why’s Peter being so weird?”

Ned stares at his laptop screen helplessly. “I don’t know, I mean he’s been off since this morning, I don’t—oh.” His face fills with comprehension, much like May’s had. “The date. I can’t believe I forgot.”

“What?”

He looks at her. “It’s Ben’s birthday.”

---

May closes the door behind her and dials Peter’s new number. It’s a new one, only updated a few weeks ago as a result of the identity reveal, but May memorized it the second it changed.

Peter had Ned help create a system for Karen that blocks any calls no matter what—they’d both insisted he would need the feature when deep in fight mode. May had agreed, with the stipulation that she have the only code that overrides the system in case of emergency.

This is an emergency.

Peter answers after May inputs the code.

“May, I know what you’re gonna say—”

“Peter. Please stop talking and listen to me.”

It takes everything in her to make her request calmly, but she does it—and Peter doesn’t argue back.

She tries to be nonconfrontational.

“How far into town are you?”

“Not far. The guy is on the outskirts.”

“Okay.” She sinks onto her bed. “Are you following police scanners?”

“Karen does all of that, but yeah. I’m close, May. And no one’s seen me. So I’m doing this.”

She shuts her eyes.

Not this again.

When Peter first became Spider-Man, he spent most of his patrols searching for muggings to stop. Using his powers to keep what happened to Ben from happening again was his way of coping.

He eventually moved on to other things, but certain dates still set Peter off in one way or another—whether it’s Ben’s birthday, Father’s Day, or the anniversary of his death, Peter is never quite the same when he’s mourning.

May knows he hasn’t given this much thought. He never does when he gets like this. He probably woke up in a funk, starting listening to the scanner, and jumped out the window as soon as he heard the news.

“Peter,” she tries again, “I know why you’re out there. I promise you I understand. But you can’t be seen apprehending someone, baby. Everyone will know it’s you.”

“I won’t use my webs, I’m not stupid.”

“How are you going to tie him up for the police, then?”

“Brought handcuffs.”

She sighs. “There’s no way nobody will see you—”

“May, I have it all figured out, okay? Please, just drop it.”

“You’re not swinging?”

“No, I ran.”

There are so many other points she can make.

Someone’s going to notice a kid handcuffing a man to a lamppost, and even if Peter does get safely away, he won’t be able to come back to the safehouse in case he’s tracked—they’ll have to relocate.

The police are hostile toward Spider-Man now, and if the law sees he’s back as a vigilante again while the pardon for the Beck complications are still pending, he’ll be in even more hot water.

And this is not going to help his mental state in the way he thinks it will—whenever he goes out to enact justice as a result of his grief, he usually ends up feeling worse.

But the main thing—the thing she won’t say, because she promised herself to never, never play this card—the main thing is that she’s sitting on a bed in a safehouse, feeling sick to her stomach over the possibility that this could kill her boy—on what would have been Ben’s fifty-fifth birthday.

She can’t lose Peter, too. Not today.

“Peter,” she tries, “please let it go. Please come back—for me, honey. Please.”

His voice is strained. “You know why I can’t do that, May. This guy has a gun, and he already shot someone—someone could die today.”

“I know,” May answers. And if there weren’t hundreds of villains just waiting for a Spider-Man sighting with technology as powerful as that monster Quentin Beck possessed, she’d give this up. “I know, Peter. But the police will handle it. You don’t have to handle this. You just need to come home safely.”

Don’t play the Ben card, she wills herself, don’t make this about your loss.

She can hear Peter taking shaky breaths.

“I…I don’t know if I can,” he says.

“I know.” The fact that he’s considering it is promising enough.

The door to the bedroom creaks open slowly, and Ned enters wearing an expression that’s somehow both somber and triumphant.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he says, “but I’ve been tracking what I think he’s going after and the guy’s been caught.”

“Peter?” May says, her heart skipping a beat, “Did Karen update you on the mugger? Ned says he’s been apprehended.”

“Yeah,” Peter answers in a small voice, “yeah, she did. I saw it.”

“Okay,” she breathes, “okay. So you’re coming home. Now, please. Walk so you don’t look suspicious, and ask Karen to keep an eye out for anyone spotting you.”

“Yeah. See you soon.”

---

MJ’s not sure what to make of it all.

Ned and May clearly have an understanding about what happened, but she feels entirely lost. After Ned told her about the date, she guessed Ben had been killed by a mugger. All she’d remembered from Freshman year was that he’d been shot, and she’s realizing now that she’s dating Peter without any further details.

MJ’s not one to pry about private issues—mostly because she’s not one to share about her own unless she’s really close to the person—and she’s not close to many outside of her own family.

She wants to know more, though. She wants to help Peter get through today, and she’s not sure how to do that.

She and May sit at the kitchen bar as they await Peter’s return.

“I’m going to make myself some tea,” May says, “would you like some, MJ?”

“Yes, please.”

“These cupboards are stocked with a bunch of options—what’s your favorite?”

“Is there lemon ginger?”

“You’re in luck,” May smiles, then puts the water on to boil.

She comes and sits next to MJ.

“Sorry you came to visit on a weird day.”

“It’s okay,” MJ says, then awkwardly adds: “I’m sorry about your husband.”

“Thank you.”

May looks at her phone, then back at MJ.

“It’s hard every year, but I think—I think being locked up and unable to protect the city made it harder today.”

MJ nods. She wants to press for more information about what happened with Ben, and about Spider-Man’s origins in general. Peter hasn’t shared much about it since they got together, and MJ’s been a bit surprised to find that the guy who’s so open and genuine could be so closed-off about anything. But she understands—and she’s wondering if they share more similarities than she first thought.

“Anniversaries are hard for Peter,” May says. “They have been since his parents passed. I don’t want to share for him, but I just thought you should know that much, since you’re here and he might not be fully himself.”

“I get it,” MJ says. “I’ll just try to be…normal?”

“That’s probably best,” May answers.

Five minutes later, MJ is following Peter into the basement lounge with her cup of tea. His return caused a minor celebration among everyone, filled with hugs and awkward apologies and vague threats from Happy to lock him in the house. MJ tried to read Peter’s body language and assumed he wanted to be left alone, but he asked her to come downstairs with him.

He sits on the couch and puts down a coaster on the coffee table for her tea.

“MJ,” he says, “I’m really sorry I kind of blew you off earlier.”

“It’s okay. You kind of blew us all off.”

“Yeah, but it’s especially not cool to do that to you, so. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

She wants to press him for more, but doesn’t know how. It feels unfair to ask him to be vulnerable when she’s still figuring out how to do that herself.

“It’s Ben’s birthday.”

She looks up, surprised. “Yeah,” she says.

“I guess they already told you.”

“They did.” She wishes she could think of something better to say.

Peter sits up a little straighter. “I was walking home, and I was thinking about Ben, but then I just started thinking about you, and how you never really knew him.”

It’s something MJ’s thought about once or twice, but she hadn’t expected Peter to bring it up so soon.

“I just…with everything that’s going on, I wanted to share that part of my life with you—all the Spider-Man stuff, and all the Ben stuff, and now that we’re locked up here until further notice I figured—if you want, I mean—I figured now might be a good time to start.”

MJ nods. “I would love that.”

Peter smiles. “Okay, great. So, um—I guess I’ll start by telling you what Ben was like.”

It’s a privilege that’s not lost on MJ, getting close to someone as lovely as Peter Parker. This identity reveal has made their lives a living hell, but in this moment, being stuck in a safehouse feels more like a blessing than a curse.

Her stomach turns.

May knows better than to read the article. She’s seen enough garbage over the past month to know it will be filled with false information, assumptions, and unfair criticisms.

She won’t open the link.

But she opens the comments and scrolls through the top thread before she can stop herself.  

Holly Grimes This is insane. I can’t believe she knew! All this time I assumed she was in the dark like the rest of us! Imagine knowing your kid is Spiderman and not doing anything about it?

Harmony Smith I wouldn’t be surprised if she forced the kid into being a superhero—look at this photo, she looks like a manipulative Hollywood parent to an unwilling child star.

Mary Hewitt We don’t know if she forced him or not, but it’s bad either way.

Jenny Harris CHILD ENDANGERMENT 😠

Sharon Field forget her for a min, i just had a thought, if i’m doing the math right, this would mean the kids been spiderman since he was 14?!? is this for real??

Mary Hewitt You are correct, Sharon. Here’s what I want to know: what kind of mother would let their child do something like this?

Janice Fletcher A negligent one. 👍124k

May sits back and shuts her eyes.

These commenters are irrefutably right about some things—fourteen is far too young to be a superhero, as is fifteen, as is sixteen, as is seventeen—Peter absolutely should not have become Spider-Man, and maybe this is still child endangerment.

She’s been living this damned if you do, damned if you don’t life for nearly two years now, and she wants to tell these people that if she didn’t allow him to keep being Spider-Man while also enforcing some ground rules, he would’ve been out there in even more danger—sometimes, your kids don’t give you a choice.

But May has so often fallen short of being the mom Peter deserves. For years she tried not to let that bother her—when Ben was alive, if she screwed something up, at least Peter had another parent she could count on to help her set it right. Now that she’s been on her own, she’s guessing what to do more often than not and pretending to be as easygoing as she was before losing Ben.

When it came to rules and boundaries, she was always the more laidback half of their parenting duo, and she’s never stopped wondering how Ben might have reacted to Peter as Spider-Man. Has she done right by him?

Mary Hewitt, Janice Fletcher and 124k Facebook users don’t seem to think so.

She knows she should close out of the website and clear her head, but another comment catches her eye.

Shirley Watts I can’t believe she said that about Quentin Beck. Let the man rest in peace, witch.

What did I say?

She’s tempted to read the actual article to find out.

“May?”

She jumps. She was so invested in the comments, she hadn’t even heard Ned come up behind her.

“Hi,” she closes the laptop swiftly, “what do you need, honey?”

“You shouldn’t be reading that stuff,” Ned frowns. “I collect positive social media posts for Peter so he can read the support, and I can do that for you, too—but you shouldn’t read random Facebook comments about you guys. It’ll just make you miserable.”

May’s taken aback by his confidence and directness—Ned Leeds isn’t normally one to tell anyone what to do, especially adults.

“You’re right,” she says with a small smile, “thanks for the stern reminder.”

He looks embarrassed. “Sorry, I just—I figured you might be struggling with the same stuff Peter is, because you guys are so similar, and I—I’m trying to help.”

“You are helping," she reassures him, "no need to apologize.”  

He's right—she and Peter are similar. It took May awhile to come to this conclusion, especially since after Ben died, all she could think about was how much Peter reminded her of him.

But May and Peter have both been stewing in guilt ever since his identity was leaked, and she knows he’s blamed himself for the situation that led to the reveal as much as she has. In the thick of everything, she’s told Peter not to dwell on what anyone else thinks of him, and to keep away from any media outlets—and here she is ignoring her own advice.

“You’re doing great, May,” Ned says awkwardly, “like seriously great. You always have been. Peter tells me that all the time.”

“Thank you." This kid really is the sweetest. "And I think I’ll take you up on your offer—can you send the social media support you’re sending Peter to me, too?”

“We get it, Flash.” MJ props up her cards and readies them for another drill. “And Peter is out of the meet this weekend, so you can stop complaining.”

This revelation is met with disappointment from the rest of the team.

“What??”

“How are we going to ace the Physics portion without him?”

“Can you just make an exception?”

“No more exceptions,” MJ says decidedly, “it’s only fair.”

She’s not about to let her feelings for Peter—or her near-certainty that he’s secretly Spider-Man—get in the way of being a reasonable team captain.

“Okay guys, let’s start.”

Ten minutes into drills, Flash is staring at his phone, completely checked out.

MJ sets her cards down. “Hey. FLASH.”

His head whips up from the phone screen. “Yeah?”

“Are you with us or not? For a guy who was talking a big game earlier about wanting to be in over Peter this weekend, you’re not very invested in this practice.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” His eyes are back on his phone.

Ned catches a glance at Flash’s screen, his eyes widening. “Is that a clip of Spider-Man?”

“Yeah. Someone’s livestreaming on Instagram. Chase is still on, but Spidey’s got this.”

A few more team members crowd around Flash’s screen.

“Guys,” MJ tries to regain their attention, “you can find all that on YouTube later, can we—”

“Shh.” Flash puts up a hand. “It’s just getting good.”

“Flash,” Ned says, “you can’t just shush her.” But it’s a half-hearted reproach, and he’s zoning in on the video with greater interest.

MJ hates that she wants to pause practice and watch, too. Is Peter—or Spider-Man, if it’s not Peter, but she’s pretty sure it’s Peter—is he going to be alright?

“Ooh,” Flash gasps, along with a few other invested students, “that was a close one. I swear he can dodge anything.”

“He’s okay, though,” Ned breathes, “I know that new suit—I mean I’ve heard that new suit is bulletproof anyway.”

“No it’s not,” Flash retorts without taking his eyes off the stream, “Spider-Man’s so quick he doesn’t even need that feature.”

“Okay but it makes sense to have it, in case of emergency and everything,” Ned says, “and I happen to have it on good authority that it’s a bullet proof material.”

“Yeah, well, your information was wrong.”

Ned stares at Flash blankly. “Dude—”

“Listen, Leeds, I know more about Spider-Man than you could ever hope to—”

“Okay,” MJ says loudly, desperate to take back control, “as fascinating as this debate over super-spandex is, we have actual work to do here. Flash, turn it off or I’m putting someone else in this weekend.”

Flash puts a finger up. “Just gimme one—yes! Got ‘em!!” He and the rest of the video-watchers whoop and fist pump.

“Okay,” Ned exhales over the hubbub and turns his attention back to the podium, “sorry MJ, we’ll focus now.”

MJ rolls her eyes.

Someday, she’s going to tell Peter all about the many ways his Spider-Man antics wreaked havoc on her AcaDec captain duties.

Probably.

MJ hasn’t felt this relaxed in ages.

She pauses work on her own sketch to look over at Peter, his face scrunched up in concentration. He looks anything but relaxed, and she wonders if he’s rethinking his insistence that she teach him portrait sketches first.

“How’s it going?”

“Um—not great? I think shading might be beyond me.” He turns her borrowed sketchbook around to reveal a drawing no amount of shading, good or bad, could ever fix. The facial features are disproportionate and misplaced, the nose looks more like a squiggle than anything else, and the head is the shape of a potato. The result is almost ghoulish, a look MJ knows her sunshiny boyfriend absolutely did not intend to create.

“It’s terrible, isn’t it?”

She bites her lip. Her penchant for complete honesty is really going to make this one difficult.

“It’s not terrible, but it’s…um…” She sets her notebook down and moves so she’s looking over his shoulder. “It’s a start.”

He sighs dramatically.

“It is terrible.”

“Peter, it’s literally your first try,” she pokes him in the stomach with her pencil. “Look—remember what I said about the eyes being in the center of the head, not at the top?” She retrieves her own sketch for reference. “You were supposed to just draw the head shape and outline the eyes anyway, you got too ambitious. We can start from scratch, and it’ll be better if this time, you do what I say.”

He laughs. “Yes, my Spider-Lady.”

MJ watches as he flips to a blank page in the sketchbook resignedly. She knows he asked for this tutorial, but also knows he’s still wading through a weariness that might only be made worse by trying to be perfect for her.

“Here,” she says, “you’re still holding the pencil too tightly. Loosen up your grip, like this.” She brings an arm around his shoulder so she’s holding her hand over his, and his muscles relax under her touch. “There you go.”

He grins.

“I thought you said this type of thing is dorky.”

She had, two weeks ago when he cuddled up behind her to show how to shoot webs and she called him a walking cliché.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

She does, pulling him in for a kiss.