#petejo

Being Queens’s resident friendly neighborhood crime fighting super-losers meant that most of the time, they weren’t dealing with the big leagues. They weren’t going to class during the day to battle the Vultures of the world at night. Usually, it was just neighborhood based bank robbers and drug smugglers and the occasional annoying crime lord who had a few too many connections to weird laboratories that were bordering along the lines mad scientist. It made Jo roll her eyes. Peter got a little too ecstatic with it sometimes, but to be fair, he’d always been a little bit more cut out for the hero thing than she was. But that was beside point.

Tonight had been all about busting a group of petty thieves who may or may not have been totally trying to ship weapons to some of the bigger threats in the area. It had been going relatively well, Peter and Jo relying on Karen and Milo respectively to do some preliminary scouting and recon before they threw themselves in the field. It was supposed to be simple. Drop in, Reappear keeps them on their toes, maybe knock a few of them out, and then Spidey webs them up for the police. Cops show up, they say a few words about the endeavor, maybe the bad guy says something about meddling kids because when is their life not a reenactment of a Scooby Doo episode, and then they leave. Stop for a slice of pizza and then spend the rest of the night hanging out on the fire escape.

It was standard procedure between them.

You know, until they realized that they greatly underestimated the number of bad guys that were creeping in the warehouse. Like, we thought there were four but there were fifteen altogether sort of underestimated.

It wasn’t like Peter and Joelle weren’t capable of taking on fifteen bad guys, but like…maybe not all at once would have been nice? It’s just that when you have two high school sophomores — super powered or not — taking on fifteen grown men with weapons, nothing really went smoothly. The element of surprise had originally been on Spider-Man and Reappear’s sides, but that all quickly went to shit when they did a quick head count.

God, Jo would bet her whole life that Daredevil didn’t have to deal with this bullshit over in the Kitchen.

Anyways, despite that minor roadblock, things had been going swimmingly for the most part. Peter had dropped in quickly, delivering some really cheesy and corny line before webbing up a few guns and guys. Jo had appeared only seconds later, giving a sarcastic remark, teleporting to the bad guys other side when they made a reach for her, before harshly hitting them in the head. Bodies were quickly dropping to the floor unconscious or entirely stuck together with whatever Peter’s web fluid was made of, the group of men quickly dwindling.

When they were down to a very small, very manageable group, they managed to get the jump on Joelle. Apparently, her normally impeccable timing with teleporting out of the way before getting hit was wearing down just a tad what with the whole fifteen bad guys instead of four ordeal.

That being said, when she went to fake out the first bad guy, she ended up screwing herself over. His elbow had made contact with her arm, causing her to stumble into the path of his friend. The second one’s fist had managed to clip her head at the last possible second and while she still managed to teleport away from him, she landed in a completely different spot then she had intended to, crumpling to the ground in a pathetic heap as a searing pain radiated over her skull.

“Fucking hell,” she moaned, her voice thick with pain. She could make out the sound of Peter yelling, either to her or at the idiots who managed to take her down a peg, but she blocked that out. Rolling over onto her side slowly, letting out a pained hiss as she bit out, “Milo? On a scale of one to ten, how fucked am I?”

In only a few seconds, her Tony Stark approved (and occasionally Dax Gonzalez hacked) AI replied. “Initial scans don’t detect any permanent any damage. Presence of a concussion is unlikely, although you may experience headache like symptoms for quite a bit. Perhaps an ibuprofen would be sufficient at masking the pain?”

“I don’t suppose this suit has a super secret med dispenser?”

“That’s a negative.”

“Perfect,” she muttered out through gritted teeth.

A couple of yells, groans, and thwip sounds later, she felt someone looming over her. Wincing when she forced her eyes open, Jo could see the blurry image of her boyfriend crouched over her, face more than likely contorted in concern under the mask of his suit. Blinking a few times, Jo craned her neck to see both guys that had hit her webbed up agains the back wall.

“Nice job, Spider-Loser,” she croaked out, causing the eyes on the suit to constrict as Peter peered down at her.

“I thought we said we weren’t going to call me that anymore,” Peter whined, effectively sounding like an upset three year old.

Jo tried to shake her head, but only groaned, her hand darting to hold the side of her head as if that was going to make any difference. Lowly, she replied, “We discussed no such thing.”

Peter sighed, but moved on nonetheless. “Did they hurt you?”

“Dumb and Dumber over there?” Peter nodded. “Oh yeah, definitely. Asshole clipped my forehead before I could jump out of there.”

Another sigh. “C’mon, we should go. Karen said the cops are on their way anyways, so we should be fine leaving them here.”

“You know Jameson’s gonna be on our asses in the Bugle if we hero and dash again,” Jo replied, managing a small chuckle through her lips.

Peter shrugged. She was certain if the mask wasn’t covering his face, his usual boyish smile would be tugging at his lips. “He’s just gonna call us menaces to the city either way,” he told her, helping her to her feet. He managed to maneuver her to sling her arms around his shoulders and once he’s certain she won’t let go of him, he nodded at her. “And besides, you probably need an ice pack or something.”

“And pizza?”