You had met this Peter Parker only a few hours prior. Everything happened so fast. You remember impatiently waiting with MJ in your living room, eyes glued to the TV, waiting for your universe's Peter to show signs of life.

Aunt Mary had passed away in his arms, the government and authorities now turning on him, intending to capture him, yet he seemed to have gotten away. However, he hadn't gotten in contact with you guys, not even with MJ, who Peter endlessly loved. You remember checking your phone every two minutes, just hoping Peter would contact you. After all, you had been his best friend for so long, for as long as you can remember.

"I just wish we could see him." You desperately waved your arms in front of your face. The simple actions causing sparks right in front of you both. MJ's face grew in confusion, softly tapping your shoulder.

"Do that again." She said, her eyes still looking ahead. You wished you knew what you had done, you simply did not know. Your eyes trailed down to the ring you had previously stolen from Doctor Strange. Copy him, that must be the answer, you thought. And so you lifted both your arms, mimicking the way Doctor Strange opened portals, and you tried again.

"I can't do it. I just... I don't know how to do this!"

"Yes, you can. We need to get to Peter. You can do this, Y/N." MJ assured you, her eyes begging to you simply try. You nodded, a shaky breath leaving your lips, lifting your hands yet again.

"I just wish we could see him!" You said louder this time, doing the circular motion with your hands, and open it did. A portal had opened. You looked at MJ, breathlessly chuckling at her, shocked by your newly found talent.

The portal had opened in what looked to be a street. The night sky being reflected on the puddles of water in the floor, and by the very end, stood Peter. It was difficult to see him, being completely honest, but you recognized the red suit. A gasp from MJ took you out of the trace you were in. MJ started waiving down Peter, calling out his name. Soon enough, Peter had seen you both, and began making his way to you. You saw him run slower as he actually got a good look at you both. You could have sworn you had see him physically taken back by something. He catiously walked into your living room, carefully and awfully slowly looking around your apartment. If you only knew how familiar everything was to the man standing in front of you.

"Y/N?" His voice shook, and shuttered as he spoke. Your eyes widened gently at the mention of your name. MJ and yourself knew this wasn't Peter. This man was much taller, his build being very different from Peter. Who was this man? And more importantly, how did he know your name?

"Who... Who are you?" You asked, anxiously.

"It's me. I..." The man tenderly spoke, his hands running to remove his mask, revealing his face. You took a step back without even realizing it. His face read sadness, confusion and even desperation. "It's me, Peter." He continued to speak, how voice becoming softer by every word that left his lips. He was handsome, truly the type to take your breath away. Your breath had even hitched by the sight of such a pretty man, standing in your living room. But he was not your Peter. And he knew you were not his Y/N, but God, he couldn't stop his walls from coming crashing down by the sight of the love of his life, alive and well.

"You're not Peter. It's not possible." MJ said after a long pause, shaking her head continiously. The man, Peter, slowly adverted his gaze towards MJ, as if needing to keep you in his sight at all times. He sighed softly, trying to find a way of explaining.

"I am Spider-Man. Peter Parker if you will... in my world. But then, yesterday, all of the sudden..." He tried explaining, his words spilling from his mouth as he paced around the room. You simply watched his tall frame.

"Prove it."

"What?"

"Prove it, that you're Peter Parker." MJ demanded, earning a small grin from the man.

"Well, I don't... carry my ID with me, it kinda defeats the whole anonymous superhero thing." He joked, earning a small laugh from you. He could've sworn this was heaven, the sweet sound of your laughter. He looked at you, smiling at you, yet his eyes only carried grief, and now you understood why.

"Hang from the ceiling." You finally spoke, the lovely melody of your voice bringing him peace. He breathlessly chuckled, you even saw his chest sink at your words. He shook his head, looking to the floor.

"God, you're... That's exactly what she said." He chuckled sorrowfully, his hands running through his face, as he recalled the time he first told you that he was Spider-Man. Well, to his world's version of you. He remembered how hard he laughed once you asked him to simply hang from the ceiling to prove himself. This was all too familiar.

"Sure." His words were short, instantly doing as you asked. hoping lightly towards the ceiling, and hanging from it by this sticky hand. You smiled a bit at the action, nodding your head. You looked to MJ besides you, this was was Peter Parker from one of the many other universes.

You gulped, your eyes meeting Peter's eyes, the tears filled to the brim, as he tried to not break down crying in front of all of you. It seemed like on his universe, you were together. It seemed like such a crazy idea to you. You had never even thought of the possibility of dating Peter, he had been your childhood best friend, you only saw him as a brother. Yet, in another life, he was your one true love. Your heart ached at the single sight of that man, so visibly broken by the simple fact that he had lost you. You had meant everything to somebody, and your absence deeply affected him. It was all so overwhelming to comprehend.

You had never been anyone important. Your entire life, you had been invisible. Nobody had loved you yet. Years of life and you had never even experienced a confession. So how could you understand that in another life, someone had loved you this much? So much to the point of referring to you as 'his version of MJ'? The love MJ and Peter shared was so undeniably unconditional. Unweavering. You thought of them when thinking of real love. And this man said he loved you just as much. Your skin covered in goosebumps at the thought.

"I tried to... keep going. To keep being that friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, because I know that's what she would've wanted. But I..." Peter added, the lump in his throat making it impossible to speak. He couldn't stop his body from pointing at you when mentioning your name, His voice sounded so devastated, so genuinely crushed. MJ, who held Peter's hand, looked your way, her eyes saddened by the story.

"At some point, I just... stopped pulling my punches. I got rageful. Bitter." He continued, hissing painfully, remembering how hard it was for him after you were gone. You didn't even notice you were crying until tears streamed down your face.

"She was..." A small, shattered chuckle left his lips. "Yeah, she was everything. And I couldn't save her. I won't ever forgive myself for that." He finished, sniffling gently, his eyes glued to yours. He looked away as soon as he noticed your tears, cursing under his breath, wiping his own tear filled face.

Truthfully, you didn't know how you all had ended up by the Midtown High Laboratory, you had disassociated after Peter's story. Peter bit his lip, standing by the other end of the lab, noticing how distraught you looked. He thought it would be best to keep his distance, not wanting to smother you. Even if he missed you so much he could not breath, you weren't his Y/N, and he needed to come to terms with that. That didn't mean he could keep his eyes off your beautiful face, his eyes were simply drawn to your inmense beauty, having had forgotten just how gorgeous you were.

They were all working on cures, and Peter focused on Connors, having already cured him in the past, he knew what he had to do. He decided to drown himself in his work, trying his hardest to forget your presence. But God, it was impossible. He couldn't stop from thinking of you. From comparing you. You just acted exactly like her, dressed just the same, talked as sweetly as her. You were his Y/N, yet you weren't. He was so conflicted. Gosh, he just wanted to embrace you, and kiss those sweet lips he fell in love with. He dreamed of the way your soft skin would feel under his touch, warm and as soft as always.

He couldn’t stop reminiscing of the way you would love him. You were just so endearing, you did everything for Peter and his happiness. His wellbeing was your passion, often working on new add ons for his suit, further ensuring his security.

You were so loving. You would always find sweet ways to show him just how much you loved him. Your tender kisses and caresses were his need. He found himself smiling as he remembered your sweet details. Small, wholesome letters in his backpack. I love you's written on the computing of this mask. He remembered coming home to you everyday, you'd always try to wait for him, welcoming him by jumping in his arms and planting kisses all over his faces. But whenever you’d fall asleep before he got home, you'd always be wearing one of his shirts, as if needing something of his, his scent to be able to rest. He jumped in his seat, being taken out of his thoughts by you. Your touch.

"How's it going?" You asked, offering him a smile. His eyes looked at his shoulder, just looking at your hand on his skin. You followed his gaze, noticing how his skin was fully covered in goosebumps, and all by your simple touch. You sat next to him, looking at what he was working on. He cleared his throat, nodding his head, smiling a bit.

"Good. Pretty good. I'm almost done." He replied, smiling at you, almost finishing up the serum. You nodded, watching him. It felt good being close him, as if electric. "I just need to fill my webs, just in case" He chuckled.

"I can help you with that!" You said, sitting up straight, excited to help out. He looked at you, a bit shocked.

"You know how to do that?" He asked, earning a scoff from you.

"Do I know... Have you forgotten who you're talking to?" You joked, grabbing his gadgets from him, shaking your head at him, smiles plastered on both your lips. He laughed, genuinely this time.

"Wow, you're just..." He started, looking at you. You met his eyes, lifting your eyebrows in curiosity. "Sorry." He chuckled, shaking his head. You shook yours, nudging him a bit, interested in what he wanted to say.

"What?" You giggled a bit, and Peter melted.

"You just exactly like her." You could hear his suffering in his voice as he spoke. Peter breathlessly laughed a bit, shaking his head, not wanting to tear up again, but it was hard. He still hadn't been strong enough to talk about you without crying. Your hands softened around the gadget, locking eyes with him.

"Yeah?" You asked, wanting to know more. About you. About the relationship you shared with this man. You wanted to know it all. He nodded his head rapidly.

"God, yes, it's almost terrifying." He chuckled.

"Could you... tell me about her?" You asked, scared of possibly hurting him. Peter's eyes softly widened at your request, before gently nodding his head.

"Yeah, you were... I mean, She..." He trailed off, both of you giggling gently. All this universe talk was definitely confusing. "She was just perfect." He continued, a small smile on his face.

"We met in college, y'know? Not that we studied in the same uni, I met her by chance. I was lucky." Peter nodded his head, truly believing he was incredibly blessed. "Met her one day while I was walking home. It was pouring rain, and I never really carry an umbrella; It's a.... hard thing to hide if I were to quickly change into the suit, y'know?" He chuckled, his head tilting as he recalled that special day. Your laugh complimented his.

"I was drenched, and it had been awfully cold around Queens." He continued, and you listened. You had begun to notice small, lovely things about Peter, like how he talked with his hands. "And in she came, running towards me; a total stranger to her, by the way." He jestered, earning another giggle from you. "But she, uh... shared her umbrella with me, going on and on about the unusual weather of New York, not that I cared, I was too busy admiring... her. It was a small, kind gesture, but it truly just..." He trailed off again, and you couldn't help but pout.

"So cute. I remember how she got herself wet, running after me, to shield me from the rain." He chuckled, biting his lip after shaking his head in endearment. "But, yeah. I knew instantly, really. And I think she did, too? 'Cause we started going out soon after that. And it was just perfect, she was perfect."

"I had it all. I had never been so happy, I swear." Peter expressed, meeting your eyes for a quick moment. "She was the calm in my chaos. Just perfection, I can't explain it." He chuckled, trying his hardest to find the words. Your hand ran to lay on top of his.

"It's okay, Peter. We don't have to talk about this."

"No, I want to. Talk about her." He said softly, nodding his head, a sad smile on his face. You nodded your head, allowing him the space to talk about it, if he'd like.

"She was it; I know it now and I knew it then. We had plans, dreams, things we wanted to do together... and it all got taken away from me." Peter's voice shook as he spoke, his head dropping lightly. "We were together for so long, but it wasn't enough, it could never be. I needed more. I needed a life by her side, hell, I had planned it. And it was all stolen from me."

"How did she..." You couldn't even finish your sentence, Peter already knew what you meant.

"Just didn't protect her like I should've." His breath trembled, your hand squeezed his gently. His eyes carefully met yours.

"It wasn't your fault, Peter." You consoled him, the words bringing solace to the broken man sitting besides you. "Stop blaming yourself. I'm sure she would've liked that." You continued on, now interlacing your fingers with him. Peter felt as if he were on cloud nine. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't take all this. He couldn't dare to break eye contact with your pretty eyes, he was too far gone. He was awe-struck, fawning over the features of yours he simply adored. His eyes roamed your face, soon landing on those lips of yours. It was taking everything in him, and from you too.

You couldn't deny the obvious attraction you felt for Peter. He was everything you had ever asked for. He was smart, funny and kind, and that physic of his was no joke either. You wanted him. You genuinely did, but he could never be yours. He would be gone soon, and to never see again.

“And you are?” He questioned. Again, you couldn't believe your shitty luck with first impressions. You told him your name, doing your best to summon up some of that faux confidence you had been trying so desperately to exude. 

"Let me help with that." You offered, carefully taking the tray of coffee from the hand he had been balancing it on. He gladly welcomed the assistance.

“Are you our nine o'clock?” He asked, as though trying to place where he’d heard your name before. 

“Yes, I’m here to interview for the paralegal position. You uh- caught me in the middle of my pep talk.” You replied lamely. 

That smile was making another appearance and definitely helped to put you at ease. 

"Well, I guess we should go find the other half of Nelson and Murdock.” He told you, gesturing with his head towards the door with their names sprawled across it in bold, black lettering. You nodded and followed behind him, your palms beginning to sweat as they always seemed to when your nerves got the better of you. You had been following the careers of Nelson and Murdock for the last few years and desperately hoped you may one day get the chance to work for their tight-knit firm. You were dialing the phone before you had even finished reading the advertisement. You were used to working for people that didn't even know your name and you were certainly ready for a new environment.

You followed Mr. Nelson's lead up the old creaky stairs and towards yet another frosted-glass door that he nudged open with his elbow. 

The office was clearly old, but still fairly new to the lawyers that occupied it. The room was quite bare, only their degrees hanging on the farthest wall to be sure every guests eyes saw them. A beautiful woman with hair like sunshine sat behind a desk and her gaze rose to meet yours. 

"This is the lovely Miss Karen Page." Mr. Nelson announced, before relaying your name. You waved albeit a bit sheepishly. She opened her mouth to speak but was almost immediately cut off by the shrill ring of a phone that looked almost as old as the building itself. She mouthed an apology and pounced on the interruption.

"Nelson and Murdock, this is Karen Page. How can l assist you?" Her cheery voice suddenly dropped to a soft one full of concern. "Oh, I'm so terribly sorry to hear that. I can't even imagine. Unfortunately, Mr. Nelson and Mr. Murdock are in a meeting, but I would be happy to schedule an appointment for you.” You didn’t have the chance to eavesdrop anymore as the door to the adjoining office was flying open rather suddenly. Out came a man you immediately recognized as Matthew Murdock.

He had a pair of dark red glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. You had seen him on the cover of newspapers many times, and on the news nearly as often. You felt yourself stand up just a little bit straighter in his presence, your heartbeat quickening as you realized just how desperately you wanted the job.

"You must be our interview. I'm Matt." He greeted you warmly, something in his tone quickly relaxing you. 

He extended his hand in your direction (although slightly to the left). You met him there, shaking his hand with almost too much enthusiasm.

"Mr. Murdock, it really is such a pleasure to meet you. I've followed your career for years." You realized almost immediately that you were probably coming on a little strong. Rope it in.

His brows shot up his forehead, a small smirk fell over his lips. You couldn't help but notice the endearing way his eyes crinkled around the edges. You did your best to focus on the task at hand and not think about how handsome he was. A task easier said than done.

"It's a pleasure. And please, call me Matt."

"And it seems as though you've met Foggy.” He added, nudging his head in the direction of his partner. Foggy responded with a small bow-like gesture that would have looked truly ridiculous if anyone else had attempted it, but coming from him you found it to be rather charming.

A moment later you were following the men into a small conference room, your resume held tightly in your arms as though you were holding on for dear life.

You discussed your time at college, your work experience, and why you felt you were the best addition to their team.

You left the building with a job offer and three new friends.

That was six months ago.

Ever since then the four of you were nearly inseparable, spending days pouring over cases and nights pouring over Josie's together. You loved being a part of their little firm and were even considering going back to school to become a lawyer yourself.

One thing you simply couldn't get used to was when Matt's sightless gaze fell on you. You had known he was good-looking long before you met in person, but his dashing looks were nothing compared to the warmth that flowed through you every time your name left his pink lips. His voice continued to play through your mind moments after he had finished speaking, his innocent, fleeting touches left trails of goosebumps in their wake. In the six months you had known him as your boss you had managed to fall irresponsibly in love with him.

He was kind and generous to his clients, always knowing what perfect, cleverly crafted sentences the person across from him needed to hear. He won cases that any other lawyer would be crazy to accept and somehow managed to make it look easy.

Of course, these were feelings you didn't share with anyone. Except perhaps your best friend.

Your phone dinged and you had a feeling you knew who it was before you even glanced at the screen.

Peter: Hey! Time for a drink?

You: I get off in 20. 

You felt a smile spread across your lips at the sight. You and Peter had been best friends for the last ten years. You met in freshman biology and immediately clicked. You had stood beside him as he mourned the loss of his Uncle Ben, he had picked you up after every heartbreak, and you even followed each other to college. Lately, you hadn't had the chance to spend much time together as you had both been quite preoccupied with work.

Your eyes fluttered to the clock on the farthest wall and willed time to move faster. A friendly call of your name was barely enough to break your train of thought.

“Any plans for tonight?” Karen asked pleasantly. 

“Actually, I’m going to go grab a drink after this with Peter. I haven’t seen him in forever. Maybe hangout at Josie’s for a bit. How about you?” She let out a long sigh at the question. 

“I’m thinking reality TV and pink wine.” That didn’t sound so bad. 

“Wow, I would love an invite next time.” You told her, earning a laugh in return. 

"Did I hear someone say Josie's?" Foggy asked, popping up out of seemingly nowhere, looking sharp as always in a blue suit. 

"Yes. I'm meeting a friend there tonight." To which Foggy let out a childish ‘oooooh’. You rolled your eyes at his teasing, but decided you didn't have the energy to explain that things couldn't be more platonic between you and Peter. You and Foggy had settled into an incredibly juvenile brother/sister dynamic that the pair of you enjoyed, although your hijinks generally caused eye rolls from Matt and Karen.

“Well, Matt and I were thinking about stopping by for a drink anyway, how about you introduce us to the famous Peter?" He questioned, nudging you playfully in the side. You rolled your eyes at his good-natured teasing. 

“You are welcome to join, if you would like" You replied.

“What do you say, Matt?” You turned, breath hitching as you waited for Matt's reply. You hadn't had the chance to really spend any time getting to know Matt personally, mostly just the group outings. He was guarded but always seemed to have a somewhat tender spot for you, although it never crossed any professional lines- much to your disappointment. He was a complicated man and difficult to read, capable of great warmth and sudden seclusion at the same time. In fact some days, he could be so stiff that you relished each chuckle that would break free from his chest, or the unexpected upturn of his lips that vaguely resembled a smile.

"I'll have to pass. I've got some stuff to take care of." You couldn’t help the way your grin faltered as he spoke- he didn’t even bother to look in your direction.

“Maybe another time then.” Foggy said, offering up a shrug at Matt's dismissive response. Determined to not let a snub from Matt Murdock ruin your evening, you said your goodbye's, threw your coat on and headed out into the brisk evening air.

You walked the few blocks, with more thoughts of your boss keeping you preoccupied. It seemed that the more you tried to expel him from your thoughts, the more persistently he remained. You had spent enough time around Matt to see his seemingly never-ending parade of beautiful women lingering on his every word, all desperate for just a moment of his undivided attention. You refused to be one of those women.

Thankfully, before you slipped too far into the depths of self-pity, the flickering crimson fluorescent of Josie's sign promised enough booze to drown out your problems.

You immediately caught sight of him slouched over the sticky bar, holding what was most likely a lite beer in his grasp. You snuck up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder, but he seemed almost as though he was expecting it. Still, he sprung to his feet and pulled you into a familiar hug. You exchanged an informal greeting and slid onto the rickety bar stool beside him and raised your brows expectantly. 

“So, come on. Catch me up on everything. Is Jameson still a gigantic asshole?” You asked, eliciting a chuckle from him. You and Peter were used to seeing each other at least twice or so a week, now you saw each other once a month if you were lucky. 

"Somehow that's still an understatement. What about you? Still desperately in love with your boss?"

"I wouldn't say desperately…” Peter slid a drink he had waiting for you that you had not previously noticed and accepted it gratefully. Especially after the mention of a certain lawyer you couldn't get off your mind.

"And how is Gwen?” You questioned, desperate to shift the subject. He couldn’t help the sheepish little grin that broke out just at the mention of her name, although you did notice that his cheeks looked a little extra pink.

"Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about." He stuttered through the sentence, his eyes doing everything in their power to not meet yours. You cradled your chin in your palm and raised your brow, doing your best to encourage him to continue. 

"I'm planning to ask her to marry me.” Pete finally confessed, bringing a smile so huge to your face that it almost hurt. Without warning you were smacking him on the arm, unable to find another outlet for the overwhelming excitement bubbling in your chest. 

"This may be the best news I have ever heard, ever." You told him, so terribly thrilled at the idea of your two best friends getting married.

"Hey, don't get too excited, she might not say yes.” His uncertainty made you scoff.

"Pete, of course she's going to say yes. You guys are obsessed with each other." You meant it. You had truly never seen a couple that was a better match than Peter and Gwen. They had been together nearly five years and you honestly couldn't believe they hadn't tied the knot yet. The light in Peter's smile brought you back to the carefree early days of your friendship. Back when neither of you knew the real burdens of life, when Uncle Ben was still alive and the future was full of every possibility. But when Uncle Ben died, Peter gave up on his lofty science goals to stay with his Aunt May and look after her. That was how he got himself trapped at the Bugle, being criminally underpaid and under-valued. But hearing him talk about Gwen always seemed to distract him from all of the hardships he had experienced. 

You raised your glass in celebration. 

"To the future Mr. and Mrs. Parker." You said confidently, clinking your bottle against his. His cheeks had grown pink and he hid his bashful smile behind the lip of his drink. He cleared his throat. 

"That's enough about me. How are you? We haven't seen each other in forever.” you pursed your lips and considered his question. Truthfully, you couldn't think of a single interesting thing to tell him about your life.

"Well, Matt was acting a bit weird today. But they just took on a huge case, so maybe that's why."

 Peter furrowed his brow in consideration.

“I’m sure whatever is going on with him has nothing to do with you.” He did his best to assure you and you sucked a bit of air in through your teeth in exasperation.

"I don't know. I always hear stories about him being the life of the party, but any time I'm invited I feel like he always manages to have some serious brooding going on.” Pete flashed you a look.

“He's literally a lawyer at his own firm. Maybe he really is just stressed." You rolled your eyes, annoyed with Peter's general rational thinking.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure you're right. Sometimes it just feels like there's something else going on...” Your thought trailed off as you punctuated your sentence with a gesture that Josie had come to recognize as a silent request for another round.

The two of you sat and talked for what felt like five minutes, but ended up being more like two and a half hours. You caught a glance at your phone and groaned; as much as you wanted to stay out with Pete and drink the night away, you had to work the next morning. 

“Any way I can sucker you into walking me home?" You asked, flashing him your biggest eyes in a silent plea. He let out a chuckle.

"Fine, but only because I'm going that way." He conceded, raising from his stool and offering you a hand. As you stood, it became evident that you were quite tipsy. You steadied yourself in his grasp and followed his lead out of the bar that you didn't realize had become quite busy. You linked your arm in his and gladly welcomed the brisk evening air that had your cheeks tingling the minute you were back on the sidewalk. The pair of you joked, laughing with abandon as you stumbled the four blocks back to your place. 

-

Matt paced his office, fighting the slow boil of jealousy building in his chest. The moment you walked (or stumbled into Foggy) on their doorstep he hadn't been able to get you off his damn mind. After your interview, you had politely excused yourself, thanked them for their time and made for the exit. Before you could even reach the door, before he could consider all of the reasons it was a terrible idea, he was offering you the job. The words left his lips and he was delighted to note the way your heart thumped at the proposition. You agreed, smiling beautifully, no doubt- and were practically skipping out of the office before Foggy could offer his congratulations. Foggy gave Matt a sideways glance. 

“While I agree she was the most qualified, it would have been nice to discuss.” He stated flatly, causing Matt to purse his lips. 

“This was our fifth interview this week.” Matt shrugged, as though the lovely sound of your voice had nothing to do with it.

“Oh, really? And the fact that she’s absolutely gorgeous- complete coincidence?” Shit.

"How would I know if she was gorgeous?” He had that grin on his face- one that his partner immediately recognized as trouble.

"See, that's the thing. I don't know how you know, but you always do. It's like your super power."

The first day you arrived with coffees and donuts for the office- a clever move that sealed Foggy's approval. And since that very morning Matt had been living in a hell of his own design. He hadn't planned to grow so fond of you, he was simply trying to make the best possible choice for the firm. It had nothing to do with your sunny disposition and the fact that you smelled faintly of coconuts. But still, he found it increasingly difficult to keep you at arm's length. He realized it was easier to be short; keep things strictly professional.

He couldn't risk getting involved with anyone- not with his extra curricular activities always hanging over his head. No, he was to be doomed to a life of solitude, leaping from one rooftop to the next, protecting his city. Protecting the innocent. Protecting people like you.

Which was what he told himself now, as he followed you and the famous 'Peter' home. He seemed like a nice enough guy, although he told some truly painful puns and had a skateboard slung over his back. You swayed, obviously mildly inebriated, and kept your grip right on the young man’s forearm to stabilize yourself. Then you laughed, a light breathy laugh that invaded Matt’s senses. He longed to hear you laugh like that, the feel of it ghosting across his neck before he pulled you into a kiss. Fuck.

He sat perched on the rooftop opposite of your building and cursed himself, trying to perish the thought from his mind. He wasn't spying, he just wanted to be sure that you were safe.

Definitely no other reason.

As the pair of you approached the door to your building he forced himself to continue on with his nightly rounds. He had no interest in witnessing whatever tender departure you and Peter were sure to share. Or worse- maybe you were planning to invite him inside. Either way, he didn't want to stick around to find out.

-

The next morning you awoke in a particularly jovial mood. Your hangout with Peter had done wonders to improve your mood. So much so that you decided to make a quick stop at the bagel shop that you knew Foggy lived and breathed for. You assumed Matt liked them too, but you couldn’t be so sure. After ordering a paper bag filled to the brim with assorted bagels and schmears, you were waltzing into the office about fifteen minutes late.

"Good morning Foggy, Karen! Matt-”

"You're late. We have to be in court in an hour.” Matt interjected, effectively taking the wind out of your sails.

"Go easy on her. She brought bagels! You were late too and you brought nothing." You couldn't help but chuckle at that. 

"Ignore him. He's just in a mood." Foggy replied, as though Matt wasn't even in the room. 

Thankfully, Karen was there to diffuse any tension. She sidled up beside you, grinning brightly.

"You seem to be in a good mood. Does that have anything to do with last night?" She asked, her brow quirking a bit suggestively. 

Before you had the chance to reply and explain how aggressively platonic things were between you and Peter, Matt was rising from his seat and making his way back to his office. There was something so abrupt to it that you couldn’t help but feel like it had been your fault. The three of you seemed to notice the palpable discomfort lingering in his wake. You glanced at Foggy with wide eyes, too which he simply shrugged dismissively. He followed in Matt's wake, leaving you and Karen to catch up and completely avoid talking about the obvious.

Things with Matt were generally amicable at the very least, and his sudden shift in demeanor upset you more than you cared to admit. You replayed Peter's advice in your head, doing your best to hold on to the hope that it really did have nothing to do with you. Matt worked hard, and you could only imagine the type of strain he put on himself daily. Between accepting chickens as payment and continuously fighting for the underdog, he seemed to have enough on his plate. The least you could do was arrive on time. At least… that was how you rationalized it to yourself. 

Matt didn't intend to be so rude with you, but he couldn't get the image of you with that other guy out of his head. The more his thoughts circled, the more he cursed himself. You had every right to see whoever you pleased, he had no claim to you. If it weren't for the fact that he was your boss, and a vigilante hunted by every sadistic citizen of Hell's Kitchen, he would have surely asked you out. To do so now would be an abuse of power, and God forbid his dubious nighttime activities put you in harm's way. While he wanted nothing more than to be selfish and throw all of that aside- it was simply something he could not allow himself to do. 

After you made the bagel offering and Matt retreated to his office to pout and consider his misfortune, Foggy followed closely behind, his breakfast clutched tightly in his grasp.

"What is your deal?" He asked immediately with a mouth very full of bagel. Matt grimaced slightly at the sound, but otherwise remained unfazed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He replied nonchalantly, crossing is arms over his chest, a critical gaze daring Foggy to continue. 

“Oh, come on. If you're going to be jealous can you at least be less obvious about it? I really don't want to have to hire a new paralegal. I like this one, she brings us breakfast.” 

"I'm not jealous, Foggy. I just have a lot to get done, and so do you.” Matt replied, eliciting the world's most dramatic eye roll from his partner.

"If you like her so much, just ask her out.” Foggy suggested with slight exasperation and a casual shrug for good measure. 

"You know why I can't do that. Plus, isn't she seeing that Peter guy?" Another shrug. 

“She says they’re just friends.” 

Matt clenched his jaw and considered his options. Even if you weren't seeing anyone, he was still your boss and still an infamous vigilante with a massive target on his back. That was a choice he made, and it seemed unfair for him to make that choice for you too. Foggy seemed to have largely lost interest in the conversation.

"Look, all I'm saying is if you really like her, you need to figure out what you want to do about it. I think you’re both mature enough to be professional if it didn’t work out." Although Matt would surely classify that as an over-simplification of the situation, Foggy did have a point. Clearly his moody lovesick act was not as subtle as he had thought. He had had enough bad luck in love to last a lifetime. Thoughts of those romantic failures were all he had to keep him company during his sleepless nights. Unless of course you wanted to count burglars, drug dealers, sex traffickers, and murderers. 

-

After your less than spectacular morning, your day was busy with a court appearance, a witness interview, and a mountain of paperwork. You were at your desk until well after Karen, Foggy and Matt had left for the day. Maybe it was the teacher’s pet in you, but you felt like pulling a late night would be the best way to smooth things over. 

Around seven o’clock you heard a key in the lock. The old door squealed as it was pushed open and Matt's lean frame was slowly revealed to you. “Good evening.” You acknowledged him simply, a smile on your lips that he could not see. Despite whatever missteps you had had with him that morning, you were still happy to see him.

"I had a feeling you might still be here." He said softly while holding up a bag that clearly contained Chinese food in his left hand. Your stomach betrayed you with a growl before you had the chance to speak.

“Thought you might be hungry.” Matt added somewhat bashfully, gracing you with a rare grin.

“Chinese Palace? You’re a godsend.” A soft smile fell over his features. You began clearing a spot off your desk and grabbed an extra seat for him. 

"Consider it a peace offering. I realized I was kind of short with you this morning. I've- had a lot going on.” He didn't seem interested in elaborating and you didn't want to press. Still, the air shifted and your anxiety dissipated at his words. 

"No, no need to apologize. I shouldn't have been late.” He chuckled softly at your words. 

"It was five minutes. Seriously, not a big deal." His voice took you by surprise with how tender it suddenly sounded. You could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper into his presence, and you tried desperately to take your mind off of his proximity to you. You cleared your throat and decided to become very busy clearing off a spot for it on your cluttered desk.

"They’re your favorite, right?" He asked, eyebrows raising in question, the take-out swaying in his grasp. You couldn't help the way your heart swelled. 

"Good memory, Murdock.” You complimented, fearing that he may notice how your hand trembled as it grazed his when you accepted the bag. You dragged over the chair that sat at Karen’s desk and watched as his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Oh, I just brought something for you.” You tutted, paying him little mind. 

"You can't expect me to eat alone.” You told him with a playful lilt in your voice. He couldn't think of a good enough reason to refuse. He reluctantly sat at your side as you pulled paper plates from the bag and began to divide up the fried rice, egg rolls and potstickers. 

“Plus, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat a proper meal.” You only half-joked- Matt usually brought something that he heated up in a little microwave that made the whole office smell like sadness. He smirked and nodded, seemingly accepting defeat. He flipped his red tie over his shoulder and you gingerly placed a pair of chopsticks in his palm. A sigh escaped your lips as you bit into perhaps the most delicious, crunchiest egg roll you had ever had. You allowed a minute to compose yourself before speaking again.

“I don't think I've ever asked you. Why did you decide to be an attorney?" You asked, truly interested in his response. Seemed like as good a question to fill the silence as any. He nodded as he finished a bite of his fried rice and cleared his throat before speaking. 

“My father was a boxer. He uh, took a lot of hits, lost a lot of fights.” He replied thoughtfully. He pursed his lips and wrinkled his brow as he tried to find the right words.

"He wanted something better for me. He thought I was better.” He tried to sound casual, but there was far too much emotion in the way he spoke. You didn't know anything about Matt's parents, really. He had mentioned his father a few times in passing, but you never heard a word about his mother. You didn’t ask. The intimacy of the moment didn’t escape you. 

“He sounds like a good man.” You offered as you placed your hand gently on top of his. Honestly, you didn't realize you were doing it until you felt him tense at the contact. Your heart hammered with the familiarity of the gesture and a slight panic rose in your chest. But if Matt was uncomfortable, he didn’t show it. He didn’t pull away. 

"He was." He agreed with a beautiful, melancholy smile that made your chest warm. Matt had never been so vulnerable in front of you before. You wanted to ask him questions, listen to his stories, and truly get to know him but something in you refrained. You bit back your interest- you didn't want to push him too far. 

Just as you feared the silence was growing too thick around you, Matt was hopping up.

"I've got just the thing." Before you could ask what he meant, he was stalking confidently into his office, cane forgotten beside your desk. In a moment he re-emerged, holding a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and two glasses in the other. You raised your brows in surprise- a drink in the office alone with Matt was the very last way you expected this evening to end. You watched as his careful hands removed the cap and gracefully reached for the glasses. After a generous but calculated pour he was handing you the amber liquid. You were mildly awed at his precision and unsure of what to say aside from a quiet 'thank you' before raising it to your lips. If this evening were to continue the way you hoped it would, you would surely need some liquid courage. 

"I know I've been kind of... Tense, lately. " Matt said, more to his drink than to you. The statement almost felt like a trap and you weren't quite sure how to reply. He didn't wait for one.

"Do you like working here?" He questioned thoughtfully, his sightless gaze seeming to scrutinize you more than usual. You tried to choose your words carefully as you replied.

"Of course, Matt. It's the best job I've ever had. Karen, Foggy… you. I feel really lucky to be here.” You answered tentatively. Matt seemed to have some line of questioning, and you weren't quite perceptive enough to know where he was going. Surely he wasn't about to fire you... Right? No, that would be crazy. All you could really think about was how you longed to reach over and remove his glasses. While there was something disarmingly charming about them, you rarely ever saw him without them. You realized you didn't want to see the same Matt Murdock that some random client saw- you wanted him unmasked. But that felt far too intimate and you had had nowhere near enough whiskey to try something like that.

"I'm glad. We’re happy you're here too. Especially me-" You had truly never sat more on the edge of your seat, but before he could finish his sentence, your phone was ringing impatiently. You jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion, your cheeks flushing with slight embarrassment. Normally, it was something you would be more than happy to ignore, but your interest was piqued when you saw the name "Peter Parker" sprawled across the screen. Peter never called. He sent you memes, texted to make last minute plans, -and often canceled those plans- but he never called.

"I'm really sorry, but I think I need to take this." Your apology was shooed with a casual wave of his hand, his easy smile never wavering. As though he had all the time in the world.

"Pete? What- what's wrong?" You had never heard Peter's voice sound so small and broken as when he said your name. It made your throat painfully tight, your chest bubbling with panic.

"It's Gwen.” Was all he had to say- or perhaps it was all he could say between choked sobs. Either way, it was enough to have you springing to your feet.  

"Oh my god. Oh... My god. Okay. Where are you?" You glanced at Matt, whose expression had darkened. You stood and quickly grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder and began to head for the door. Only when you had nearly reached it did you turn back to a forgotten Matt. After assuring Peter you were on your way to his apartment did you murmur a rushed apology to your boss before clambering out of the office. If you'd given him the chance to reply, he would have insisted you go.

His jaw tightened as he glanced down at the nearly full glass still in his grasp. 

And then he was alone.

-

You hailed a cab as you reached the street, although you didn't remember doing so. Only as it dropped you off in front of Peter's building did you snap back to the present. What the hell could have happened to Gwen? She spent her days in a lab and her nights binge-watching The Great British Bake Off. Questions gnawed at your mind as you hastily climbed what felt like a million stairs up to his tiny flat.

When you finally reached his door, it was unlocked. You let yourself in as you had almost a million times before. You had spent many nights squished on his tiny couch with Gwen, eating too much pizza, forcing Peter to watch the newest reality TV show you were obsessed with, and sometimes drinking too many beers. His apartment was comfortable and somewhere you had spent countless hours. 

This time was different. The door freely swung open and you saw something on the other side that you had never seen before. 

Spider-Man. Crouched on the floor, mask in hand. 

You felt like you had been hit by a ton of bricks. Peter stood there, battered, bloody, and in a suit of red and blue. You felt your knees nearly give way in shock and put your hand on the doorframe to steady yourself. 

"Peter?" you croaked, but you knew it was him. You would recognize him anywhere. He turned to face you, his eye black and his mouth bleeding. He should have been expecting you, but he still seemed surprised at your appearance.  

"I'm sorry." Was all he could say.

"I'm sorry.” He said again, brows knitting together, his expression growing more desperate every second. Your bag slid off your shoulder and fell to the floor with a heavy thud. You ignored it and went to your friend, taking him in your arms. While he stood taller than you, he swayed in your grasp, his footing uncertain as he fought to stay upright. Whether he was fighting emotion or pain, you didn’t know. 

"How?" You asked, voice shaking and sounding nothing like your own. "All this time?" A sob fell from your chest and his grip around you tightened.

"l’m so sorry. I just wanted to keep you safe.” You didn't have the heart to say anything more. You just held your friend and tried to assess him for any possible injuries that he was too overwhelmed to feel.

While you had even more questions than just a few seconds ago, they didn't matter. Peter was hurting. That was all that mattered.

You spent that night trying to help your friend as best as you could. All thoughts of Matt and your intimate dinner were long gone from your mind. You were fully occupied with Peter. You convinced him to let you clean the gashes on his face, found him some clean sweats to change into, waited for him to tell you what happened.

About how Gwen fell.

How he caught her too late. How he heard her neck snap. He trembled as he explained that he had to leave before the cops and news crews came. You didn't know what to say, but all you could think about was your friend’s body alone and growing colder by the minute. Tears fell down your cheeks, but you didn't wipe them away. You did your best to be there for Peter and to not contribute to the pain he was already in. 

Despite your best efforts, one question still clawed at the edges of your mind.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You hadn't meant to ask. Not now, not when Peter was crumbling before you. Still, they'd broken free of your lips and they were out in the open now.

"No one knows. Just- just Gwen." His voice was unlike his own. You pursed your lips but only nodded. You couldn't find it in yourself to be angry, not now. But all the years of weird excuses, random bruises and missed commitments- it made sense. Peter sat beside you on his old futon, looking as pathetic as you had ever seen. You felt frozen. Gwen had been one of your very best friends. The idea of her being gone? You didn't believe it. The only thing you could do was try to comfort Peter. If you could focus on him, you could ignore your own pain. The two of you cried. You cried until the sun rose

You were there when the police arrived to tell him Gwen had been murdered. You did your best to keep him from spiraling but in reality, you couldn't wrap your mind around what was happening. They removed their hats and wore very sad faces as they said they had found her body. You recoiled as they spoke, bile creeping up the back of your throat. You were barely listening as they said they believed a vigilante may have been involved. You carefully wrapped your hand around his wrist in an effort to remind him not to react. You cautioned a glance his way and saw the fresh tears running down his cheeks. They apologized once more and then they were gone. Leaving the two of you in uncertain silence and pain.

Twenty-four hours ago Peter was your nerdy best friend who worked for the Daily Bugle and did sudoku for fun. And suddenly he's one of New York's most famous residents.

How could any of this be possible? How could you be debating what dress to bury Gwen in? How could Peter be Spider-Man? How could he have gotten Gwen mixed up with the most dangerous villains New York had ever seen? And how was he going to keep himself safe?

You felt another wave of nausea hit you as the world you knew continued to crumble away beneath your feet.

"Let's... Pack your stuff. We're staying at my place." You said while shaking your head to rid yourself of the thoughts barraging you. You wiped your eyes on your sleeves, trying desperately to feel a little more put together. Peter's big brown eyes were bloodshot, his lips swollen from whatever beating he had endured. 

He didn't speak, he nodded.

“But leave the suit."

It wasn’t even five hours before the police came knocking on your door in search of Peter- with questions. They wanted to know where Peter had been when Gwen was killed. Since he couldn't exactly be honest, you stepped in.

"He was with me. Monday is reality TV and pizza night.” You replied before Pete could open his mouth, surprising yourself with how easy you found it to lie to the cops. Matt would either be horrified or proud. Still, your stomach churned when they turned to Peter with suspicion in their eyes. While Peter had absolutely not done anything to hurt Gwen directly, his whole body was heavy with guilt that even the newest rookie at the station couldn’t miss.

“We’d like for you to come to the station with us, answer a few questions.” The more rotund of the two cops at Peter's front door spoke sternly. You pushed yourself between Peter and the gap in his front door.

“What kind of questions?” You inquired, sounding just a smidge too hostile. You couldn't help it. Peter was not faring well, and you were incredibly concerned that if pushed he may break.

"Routine questions." the officer replied, a healthy amount of annoyance in his voice. You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Fine. We’ll stop by.” You replied firmly as you moved to slam the door shut. The officer’s boot wedged between it and the doorframe.

"How about how? Would hate for you to have to take the train when we have a car outside." You gritted your teeth and raised your gaze to meet his.

"How thoughtful." You murmured, glancing at Peter over your shoulder. 

“Fine. We'll go. But I'm going to need to make a quick call first.”

Matt had been thinking about you far more than he was comfortable with. Especially when you left him the first time you had been alone together in weeks. And for Peter. The guy definitely had a gift for whisking you away at the most inopportune times. Although, the call sounded serious, and not in a fun and romantic way. When you called in the next day (something you never did) alarm bells started sounding in his head. Something had to be up.

Then his phone rang. "Matt? I really need your help. Any chance you can meet me at the station?” Before you had even finished speaking he was slipping his jacket on and heading for the office door, leaving Foggy scrambling behind him to catch up. 

"I'll be there in ten. And this goes without saying- but don't talk."

The cops ushered you into an interrogation room that they say is ‘strictly a formality'. Since Peter wasn't a suspect and this wasn't a formal interrogation, they allowed you to stay beside him.

“I called Matt. He's on his way.” Pete furrowed his brow. “Your boss?"

“A lawyer.” You corrected. 

"You think I need a lawyer?" He questioned, a slight twinge of alarm in his voice. You pursed your lips and shrugged slightly. "I've heard stories. Matt will make sure none of your words can be twisted. I'm just... Being careful." Peter didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes lowered on the dented, graffiti-ridden table in front of you. You rested your hand on his shoulder reassuringly and prayed Matt arrived quickly.

Before you could feel any more pressure to fill the silence, a pair of detectives filed into the room. They wore faces with synthetic sympathetic expressions and placed two cups of coffee you hadn't requested in front of you.

"Thanks for coming in. I know you must be having a difficult time. And after what happened to Captain Stacey," You flinched involuntarily and caught that same look of guilt flash across Peter's face. 

You almost forgot what happened to Gwen's father. All you knew was that he died in the line of duty while pursuing Dr. Connors. And if you weren't mistaken, Spider-Man had been involved. God, you felt stupid for never thinking long enough to put the pieces together.

You turned your attention back to the present.

"We're taking this case very seriously.” Peter didn't move. You nodded along. The detective waited for one of you to speak. You remained silent.

“When did you last see Gwen?" The female detective -Patterson- asked. Peter looked at you briefly before speaking.

"Yesterday morning. We had breakfast at Mel’s Diner.” 

“And when did you part ways?"

“About 10 am.” 

“About 10 am or 10 am?” Pete stiffened.

“We just want the timeline to be as accurate as possible, you understand, don't you Mr. Parker?" Patterson finished with a soft, disarming smile.

"9:45." Peter decided definitively.

"And how did you get all those injuries, Peter? I’m sorry, can I call you Peter?" 

Just as Peter opened his mouth, the door swung open with an aura of authority that you immediately recognized. Matt.

"Detective Patterson, Rivera. I'd like a moment with my client." Matt smiled coolly at the two visibly perturbed detectives before him. Patterson looked at Peter, suspicion clear on her features.

"You hired a lawyer?"

"I'd like the room." Matt repeated firmly before Pete had the chance to speak.

“Always good to see you, Murdock.”

You deflated with relief, the power balance in the room shifting in your favor. With a sigh of resignation, the detectives stood and left the three of you alone.

"So what exactly is going on here?”  Matt inquired, sounding far too much like a stern father for your liking. You chewed on the corner of your lip and glanced at Peter to try to decide how to proceed. His expression was lost, and his lips moved, but no words came out. With a deep, steadying breath you began. 

"Peter’s girlfriend Gwen was murdered yesterday. I didn't like the way the cops were looking at Peter and I knew you would help.” Matt's eyebrows raised over his red-rimmed glasses. Suddenly, Matt had a very different understanding of your friendship with Peter. He felt more than a little ridiculous for the rolling boil of jealousy that had taken up residency in his chest when he first saw you together. However, now wasn't the time for him to be processing those emotions. He pushed them from his mind and focused on the one thing that always steadied him- his job.

“Alright. Do you have an alibi?” He asked, his gaze directed towards Peter.

"Yeah... I may have… embellished the truth a bit." You cut in before Pete could answer, your protective nature clearly working overtime. You noticed the slight clench to Matt’s jaw. 

"And why... why did you do that?"

You could practically feel the anxiety rolling off of Peter in waves. He murmured your name and followed it with a gentle shake of his head. You put your hand on his shoulder. 

"You can trust Matt. He's a really good lawyer. Attorney client privilege and all that."

You looked to Matt for his agreement, which he seemed to sense. He nodded along. Defeated, Peter threw up his hands in resignation.

"Peter is Spider-Man." The words felt ridiculous leaving your lips, but you knew it was true, and you knew you could depend on Matt to believe you.

The air seemed to leave the room as the confession hung between the three of you.

Matt hadn't expected a call from you, especially one requesting he meet you at the police station. He was further dismayed when he saw you beside the famous Peter. But this? Never in a million years would he have guessed it. He stood and unbuttoned his suit jacket, his hands finding purchase on his hips as he took a moment to absorb this frankly... unexpected information. Peter couldn't hide the slight grimace over his features as he kept his gaze on that grimy table. 

Matt leaned into his enhanced senses and listened to your heartbeat. While slightly elevated, it was steady. Not that he didn't believe you, it was just a habit he found difficult to break- especially when in an interrogation room. Then he turned his attention to Peter. There was some level of guilt there, of that he was certain. But murder? No. More like a crisis of conscience, something Matt was familiar with. He felt a twinge of sympathy but did his best to ignore it. From one masked-vigilante to another, this was exactly why no one knew Matt Murdock was Daredevil. Not Karen, not Foggy- and certainly not you. It was dangerous and careless; and honestly just downright irresponsible. Matt took a moment to collect his thoughts, expelling his frustration with a big puff of air before turning back to the pair of you.

"Alright. Obviously we can't have the police finding that out.” That seemed to perk Peter up the faintest amount, visible relief falling over him if for just a moment.

"So what's the plan, Matt?" You questioned, coaxing a small incredulous chuckle from his chest.

"Tell as much of the truth as you can. Use the alibi. Tell them the bruises are from a skateboarding accident or something. We keep it short. We answer their questions, we go. Foggy’s working his contacts to see what he can learn. This is always step number one when something tragic like this happens." You hung on his every word. The confidence he carried himself with was intoxicating. You tried unsuccessfully to push those thoughts from your mind.

"Let's just make sure we don't give them any reasons to look closer.” 

You nodded and rubbed a reassuring hand over Pete's back.

"See? Didn't I tell you he's the best?” You swore you saw the lightest tinge of pink dust across Matt's cheeks. You didn't have time to analyze it before he was up and ushering the detectives back into the room.

For the next half-hour Peter did his best to answer the questions they lobbed his way. He stuck to his timeline, never elaborated, and explained his injuries away with relative ease. Afterwards, Matt smiled charmingly and asked the visibly annoyed cops "Any further questions?"

-

You sauntered down the crooked steps of the police station, offering Matt your arm for guidance without hesitation. While he had been up and down those steps hundreds of times without assistance, he accepted the help- a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Foggy.

Once there was a comfortable distance between the four of you and the precinct, Peter spoke.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Murdock." Matt's smile was genuine. Softer than the one he'd used in the station.

"It's Matt. I'm sorry for your loss, Peter. If you need anything at all, call anytime." He placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and Peter uttered a quiet ‘thank you’.

“Oh and for the time being, let’s keep a low profile, okay? Stay off the streets.” Matt instructed in a voice low enough to evade Foggy's nearby uninformed ears.

Again, Peter nodded but it wasn't very reassuring. Just the mention of his clandestine activities made you feel sick all over again. Like Peter had an entire life you know absolutely nothing about. It unsettled you, and he was sorely mistaken if he thought you weren't going to be having a conversation about it the moment you were both well enough to.

"Do you want to go back to my place?" You asked gently, but before you could convince him he was declining. 

“I've caused enough trouble already. I'm going to stay with May for a few days.” You breathed a sigh of relief- May's watchful eyes were even better than yours.

"You're not trouble. I'll come see you later, okay?" He tried to smile, but you didn't find it to be very convincing. You gave him a quick hug and with an awkward wave to Matt and Foggy (which Foggy returned) he was headed down to the subway.

Now it was just you, Matt and Foggy. Even with your back turned to him you could feel Matt's presence boring into you. You slowly turned to face him.

"Thank you so much. For meeting us, for-"

The expression on his face made you stop in your tracks.

"We need to talk.”