Just a girl who sometimes writes

The hinges groaned in protest as you pushed open the door with the palm of your hand, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. The room was just as it had been the last time you had seen it, it seemed Tony really was the sentimental type. Things were freshly dusted and the bed newly made, but walking into felt as if you had been transported back- back to a time when things weren’t so dark, when you weren’t so alone.

You kicked off your shoes and padded softly over to the dresser, as if any movement might cause the landscape in front of you to fade away to mere memory, as if the wrong step could send you spiraling back to the present.

A heavy feeling settled in your stomach as you took in the room around you, the photos on the dresser, the once undying flowers in the vase brittle and faded, the bed made for two… You picked up the flower vase and held it close, as if willing it to once again provide that sweet smell you loved so dearly. That scent had faded as had the once brilliant colors, faded as the magic that had kept them alive had faded from this world 5 years ago.

You squeezed your eyes shut to blink back the tears. 5 years, 5 years you had been alone on this earth. 5 years since Loki had been slaughtered, since the people of Asgard had been slaughtered, since half the universe had been slaughtered, since Thor fell into a trance you could not wake him from, since you had lost everything.

How unfair this world was. The next morning you would be embarking on a journey to attempt to reverse the damage wrought by the titan Thanos. You could see the hope filling the hearts of the others, the hope of a better tomorrow. No such hope found a home in your heart. Even if you succeeded, there would be no bringing back Loki. He had not vanished in the blip, he would not reappear. A bitter laugh sounded from your lips as you slammed the vase back on the dresser, not caring if you shattered the glass and crushed the flowers into oblivion.

Instead, you were met with petals soft and fragrant and bright and the vase incredulously unbroken. Freezing in place, you heard a chuckle you would always recognize.

“Well, darling, any harder and you would have broken that lovely vase.”

Frantically you spun yourself around, a smile overtaking your face as you took in the view. Loki, alive and grinning his typical grin sat perched on the end of your bed. The bed you had both once shared. The bed you had laid alone in until you could stand it no longer. Until you had fled as far as you could.

“Loki? How? You’r-“ Rushing forward, he cut you off with a gentle hand to your cheek as you fell to your knees before him. You placed your hand over his own and saw tears blur your vision.

“Shhh, love,” He softly brushed the tears from your cheek with his thumb, the warmth of his hand seemingly reawakening your body, sending shockwaves to your very toes. “I can’t stay long.”

“Stay? What do you mean— you’re here! You’re- You’re alive! I don’t-“ You shook your head frantically. “No, no… I can’t lose you again, no, please…” You moved your hands and reached up to cup his face, oh his beautiful face. His eyes were so clear and alive and brimming with love.

“It’s not something either of us can control,” His eyes searched your own until your gaze remained focused on him, until he could pull you from your own thoughts and mind. “None of it was something either of us could control,” he moved your hands down to his shoulders. “You can’t keep in your head… living in the past. That was always something I did, you know. Look at this pot calling the kettle black, hmm?” He laughed slightly and you nodded, your own small laugh leaving your lips. “There is it, I’ve missed that laugh. Why don’t you laugh anymore? Surely not because of me?”

“You’re gone!” Your voice had risen an octave or two in panic. He was gone, he was here but he was gone and he said himself he was leaving again soon. Your eyes scanned his face, trying desperately to etch it into a memory that would never fade, trying to hold onto every feelings of his body, the sound of his voice, his heartbeat… “You’re gone and I’m alone.” Your voice broke and you swallowed back tears.

“Nonsense,” he shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Alone, honestly! I always thought you were the smarter one, my love.” His hand once again found its place on your cheek, the other one squeezing your arm tightly. “You have your friends-your family, for Odin-sake you have my brother for all he’s worth, and,” he paused and released your arm, moving instead to place his hand gently on your chest above your heart. “You have me. Always. I shall not leave you, I thought that was made clear in our vows.”

You drew in a heavy breath and met his gaze once more. “It’s not the same-“

Once more he cut you off, and had it been 5 years ago you would have chided him endlessly for not letting you finish your thoughts, but now you would give everything for just 5 more minutes with him, interruptions or not.

“I need you to live for me,” His voice was barely above a whisper, and you clutched onto his shirt as if your life depended on it. “I cannot stay, but I cannot leave without your word that you will live for me.”

“If I refuse to give my word, will you remain by my side?” You titled forward until your forehead rested against his own, attempting to breath him in deeply.

“What a mischievous thought,” he huffed a laugh and closed his eyes as yours fluttered shut, “but you know I cannot.”

Opening your eyes once more and pulling back slightly, you let out a heavy sigh. “I had to try.”

“I would expect nothing less from the wife of the god of mischief.”

“I will try to live, for you and only you,” you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a searing kiss, a goodbye you had been unable to have and poured every emotion into it, all your love and grief and he matched you with his own.

Loki pulled back just enough to whisper gently against your lips, his final piece before he had to leave, “I love you. Always.”

Then he was gone.

The screen showed a pixelated version of the Avengers… and you. You who he had seen mere hours ago fighting against him, and then whom he had seen two versions of. He had smelled the cologne of the two Tony’s, just as he had beheld the two Y/N’s.

He hadn’t originally noticed you dressed as a guard until he had heard the subtle, yet sharp intake of breath, a breath not all that different from the gasp he had made moments ago when seeing his mother on this damned screen, a gasp of pain. You were clearly older, a scar on your cheek that hadn’t been there mere moments ago at the top of Avengers tower as you had nudged Romanoff with a grin as you settled into the elevator. This older you had locked eyes with him for a fleeting second until being broken apart by the commotion of the Hulk smashing through the stairwell door and sending everyone scrambling.

It had struck him as odd at the time, yes, but he had been preoccupied with other details (such as escaping) rather than wondering why the mighty avengers had decided to play around with time. He’d had only a couple of conversations with you until now, and none of them entirely delightful seeing as you were on opposing sides, and the recognition held in future you’s eyes had unsettled him more than he’d care to say.

Glancing once more at the table before him, Loki pulled out a chair and sat. The round device before him was no more complicated than anything else he’d seen before, and a twist of a knob later, he was skipping through his life on film.

Stop. His mother, dead on the floor. His doing, according to Mobius. A manifestation of the pain and suffering he had been supposedly born to cause. A shuddering breath escaped him.

Twist. Images of Thor and... you for some reason flickered past like voices on the wind, glimpses of some life he had never lived, some life he was meant to live. And Odin, his... well, the closest thing to a father Loki had ever known.

Stop. “I love you, my sons.” He saw himself, an older Loki, beside his father. Another shuddering breath escaped him. My sons… Odin had seen this Loki, this version of him, as his true son. He had not hesitated, had not made him an afterthought behind Thor. Tears welled up in his vision, and try as he may, Loki could not stop them. “Remember this place. Home.” He watched as his father died before his very eyes, saw himself stand beside Thor as brothers once more, united in their grief. He saw You, coming to his side and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Twist.

Stop.  You, kissing him. His hands tangled in your hair. You pull away with a gasp for air, a smile playing on your lips as you trace a delicate hand across his cheek. “You are good, Loki Laufeyson, and you deserve good things.” His future self breaths a small laugh as he shakes his head, placing his hand atop your own. “You are the good in me, my love.”

Twist.

Stop. Thor, his hair cut and trimmed short, staring at Loki with… love. “Loki, I thought the world of you. I thought we were gonna fight side by side forever.” Loki drew yet another shuddering breath and looked away. Forever.

Twist.

Stop. You. You, on the Bifrost beside himself, Thor (missing an eye no less), and who appeared to be a Valkyrie from the stories his mother would tell them as children. You, weapon in hand and looking slightly worse for wear, sweat dripping down your face as you shot him a sly grin.

Twist.

Stop.Thor, a newfound patch on his eye, turning. “Maybe you’re not so bad after all, brother.” A sly grin on his future self’s face as he replied, “Maybe not.” A thanks from Thor, his voice deep and true, “If you were here, I might even give you a hug.” Loki can’t stop the incredulous laugh from leaving his lips as he watches the scene before him. His soft brother, still soft. A quiet response from his future self, “I’m here.” A soft click indicating the opening of a door, laughter from offscreen. Your voice rings out playfully, “Oh please, don’t let me interrupt. I’d like to see this.” 

Twist.

Stop. Himself, panting and suddenly thrusting a knife upwards at Thanos… who makes no movement of defense, a glittering gold gauntlet already adorning his fist. Loki’s smile falls into a grimace as realization strikes him. “Undying?” The giant asks and he hears scraping from the sidelines. A glance of his future self’s eyes turns the screen on you, beaten and bloody, struggling on your knees with a hand of one of Thanos’ children’s clamped tightly over your mouth. Tears fall from your eyes as you flail against their grip, fighting. This future Loki merely nods towards you. Thanos’ voice cuts through the silence.  “Undying? You should choose your words more carefully.”

Loki stands to his feet and watches as his future self is lifted into the air by the neck, choked forcefully. He sees himself struggle to no avail, his suffering long and drawn out. His words broken and strained, “You... will never be... a god.” The snap of his neck. His death. Gasping and taking frantic steps back, Loki watches as his brother and you grieve over his body. Thor crying silently while you frantically shake his body, begging him to wake up and come back to you.

An explosion marking the end of the tape. He scoffs, despair and regret boiling up in his chest.

"Hey! Back off her alright?" An outlying voice said, a tone of anger wavering in their voice. 

The hands withdrew, steps faded away- you must remember to thank that angry voice. 

You felt someone brush the hair off your forehead, and flinched at the contact. It hurt, oh lord, your head hurt. 

"(Y/N)?" A gentle voice whispered, and the soul inside of you leapt with recognition, as if crying: (Y/N)! Yes! That's me! I'm (Y/N)! 

You slowly tipped your head up, blinking once again at the bright surroundings, and your eyes immediately focused on blue.

The blue you dream of, the color blue the sky is when you are a child, the blue the ocean is when you can see all the way to the bottom, the blue of the ever constant tides and of the calming midspring rains, the blue that was so full of emotion... 

"Thank god."

You blinked multiple times, focusing on the whole picture rather than the one detail. 

A man, you were staring  at a man. You could see the slight differences of skin tone where if he had been paler there would have been a splash of freckles, his messy black hair, the way he had a slight scar above his left brow, the forgotten laugh lines and deep dark circles around his eyes- his bright blue eyes- it looked like he hadn't slept in days... you were much too close, and he was far too attractive. 

Scrambling backwards, you took a ragged breath as the room around you became much clearer. 

"Shh, (Y/N), it's alright, you're safe, we're in the hospital," the man said soothingly and you begrudgingly nodded. 

Confusion swirled in your brain, like a fog that was too dense to navigate through. It seemed to settle over things you knew you should know- like a blanket covering memories you felt tugging at you, but no matter how hard you tried the fog wouldn't dissipate. 

"I-" you coughed, your voice coming out much more pathetic than you had realized. 

A small foggy pink glass of water was held in front of you, and with a jerky movement you glanced up. 

A tall, imposing man stood next to your bedside. He so seemed impossibly wide and formal you couldn't help but feel intimidated. His eyes were kind but his jaw was harsh. 

Carefully taking the glass, you swallowed a few gulps. 

"My... my head hurts," you said slowly, wincing ever so slightly. 

A nurse glanced at you and checked the chart in her hand, with a warm smile she patted your foot. 

"That's completely normal after what you've been through sweetheart. I'll go get you something for that." With that, she headed out the door, leaving you with the three men- your doctors?

You wrinkled your nose is confusion. "I don't understand- what I've been through?" 

The imposing man looked you over worriedly. 

"You were gravely injured in the fight against The legion of doom, you took on Sinestro even though your ring had been dangerously low on power-" he stopped as the brown haired man behind him scoffed. 

"We told you not to! You could have died (Y/N)! Do you have any idea how much-"

"Hal!" The blue eyed man snapped, and the imposing man sighed. 

"We'll lecture you another day, we are all just glad you're alright."  

Your eyes widened in confusion. 

"Excuse me, but what the heck?" You glanced between the men-doctors in utter confusion. "Who's... Sin-Jesto? What ring? Why would you Lecture me? And Why did you start yelling at me? Where are my parents?" 

"(Y/N)," the blue eyed doctor began and you shifted uncomfortably under the intensity of his gaze. 

"Don't you remember us?"

"I'm sorry, remember you? Aren't you just my doctors? Wha-"

"What's going on here?" The nurse returned, glaring between the three men.

"You said she would recover! You said she would be fine!" The blue eyed man launched to his feet, jabbing a finger angrily in your direction, glaring at the nurse, as (Hal? Maybe was his name?) whirled on her as well. 

"Brain injuries aren't that simple, Mr. Grayson. I said she would recover, the odds were good but there's always unforeseen side affects. She's alive, and awake. And that's what counts," the nurse placed a hand on his shoulder. "Give it time, You have to give her time."

The man- Mr. Grayson, turned to you. 

"Do you really not remember?" He asked quietly as he sat on the chair next to you. 

"I'm sorry, should I?" You frowned. He  looked so heartbroken as He carefully placed his hand over yours. 

"(Y/N), it's me, Dick, your husband, and Bruce."

It felt like you stared at him for hours. 

This... this man, Dick, he was your husband? And his name was... Dick? You couldn't help the bubble of incredulous laughter that rose in your throat. "I'm- I'm sorry! It's just- how are you my husband? Why's your name Dick?"

"Sweetheart, I still ask those questions," Hal responded and Dick shot him a glare. The nurse turned her head to you in worry. 

"Honey, what's the last thing you remember?" 

You frowned, biting your lip in concentration. It was hard to pinpoint an exact memory. 

"I- It had just snowed. We were at my House, my mom told me to grab my gloves before school, and that's it? Why?" You shrunk under the woman's worried gaze. “Yeah, about that where are my parents?" 

Dick, (Seriously, how was that his name?), took a sharp breath. 

"(N/N), it's 2022," Dick said softly. You spluttered. 

2022? How was that even possible? You needed a mirror, you needed to see... As soon as you tried to get up, Dick tried to hold you down. You shrunk back for a moment under his touch before trying to push him off you. 

"I need to see! Just let me up alright?" You snapped, and he immediately pulled his hand back. 

"It's alright," the nurse informed you stood warily. The older man, Bruce, Dick mentioned, carefully moved the iv drip so you wouldn't tangle the cords. 

Dick got up too, and when you looked in the mirror you took rapid steps back. This girl- she barely looked like you! Her eyes were harsher, her face more thin, her hair was a ratted mess (most likely from being wrapped in bandages).... she couldn't be you. She seemed so... hardened. Reaching a wary hand up, your own face and paused as you looked at your arm. 

"Woah," you murmured, flexing slightly and you stared agape. Turning back to the others you saw them looking at you in confusion. "I'm freaking ripped!" Dick and Hal burst out laughing and you couldn't help but smile, soon Bruce and the nurse joined in. 

"I came as soon as I heard! Shayera is on her way from the watchtower... (Y/N)?" A familiar voice echoed from the room and you froze in shock.  That was your Uncle John, John Stewart.

"John, she doesn't, just be careful, she can't remember-"

"Uncle John!" You screeched and ran over to him, tripping up on your iv drip but nonetheless flinging yourself in his arms. He stiffened in shock for a moment before returning the hug with similar vigor. 

Tears fell down your face as you breathed in. You could remember him, there was one thing here that connected to your memories.

"(Y/N), I'm so glad you're alright," he pulled back a little to get a better look at you. "What's wrong?" 

John turned to look at everyone in the room, and you took a step back. He wasn't the same Uncle John you remembered. His hair was grayer and his voice seemed rougher. But then again, if it was 2022, he would have aged quite a bit. The men looked at you, and Dick- you had to turn your eyes away from his. He looked so distraught, and you knew it was all your fault. 

Hal seemed distant, and the other man, hell you still didn't truly know his name. "She doesn't remember any of us," Hal rasped. 

"She doesn't-" your uncle turned his head down to look at you. 

"Her last memory is it snowing and her mom telling her to grab her gloves before school," Bruce filled in. "But it makes sense she would still remember you, she's known you her whole life."

"Bruce-" Uncle John paused with a heavy breath, "that means..." 

"Speaking of," you murmured, "no one answered my other question: where are my parents?" 

The room went eerily quiet and your Uncle John placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

"Sweetheart, your parents passed away 10 years ago."

You stumbled backwards, confusion marring your face. “That's not possible." 

Everyone was quiet and watched your reaction, and Dick looked ready to catch you if you passed out. 

Your breaths came in sharp gasps and your shook your head wildly. "No, no. That's not right. This is all just some bad dream. It's not 2022, I'm not married to some random guy with the name Dick, I'm not in the hospital, I'm just...." 

"A king is not a ruler. He is, first and foremost, a protector. There are legends of King Peter's wrath."* "Ah, dear one, let us not trouble your father any longer," you had smiled lovingly at your son before turning to look up at him. Your son's fingers wrapped strongly around yours as he tottled warily; walking a new frontier for him to discover. You bent over, holding him up carefully and making sure he wouldn't fall. "He's been at it all day!" You laughed, immediately bringing a wider grin on Peter's face. Your laugh, oh Aslan, how he loved your laugh. It made your face light up, your nose would crinkle, and it sounded like a dryad. "Love, You should know you two never trouble me. Besides, I ought to start referring to you as three shan't I?" Peter stood, rushing over to swing his son up into his arms and pressing a light kiss to your lips. "Mmh, probably," you placed a hand upon your growing stomach and tickled your son's arm lightly. "I'll be due in a few weeks, and then we'll have another one keeping us up at night," your eyes twinkled mischievously.   "All worth it, my Queen," Peter's chest rumbled with laughter as he glanced out the castle window. The sun shone on the sea, and laughter and music could be heard from the courtyard. His gaze dropped down to you- you who were so expertly tucked under his arm, your eyes alight with life and joy and love, the hand placed lovingly on your belly,  to your son, who was perched on his hip like always, who's lips bubbled with childlike laughter and livelihood, and he knew. "All worth it." Peter blinked frantically, it was another dream, always the same. He tried to grapple with sleep, make it pull him back in, for only a moment longer, only one more second of your smile, one more second of your son's cheek upon his shoulder, one more second... But you were gone, out of reach, out of hold, just like every time he woke from slumber.

He knew the train was going to crash, he felt the air grow heavy as it had before battle, as if mourning the losses it was about to witness. He wasn't scared, though he knew, in theory, he should have been. In this world's view he was only 22, his whole life ahead of him, everything to gain... He glanced into his brother's eyes. They held the same knowledge his possessed. There were far greater things they had left behind, and maybe, just maybe, this journey wouldn't be so bad. Edmund held out his hand, a comforting gesture, and Peter gratefully took it. 

You stiffened, but still managed to smile convincingly. 

"Hey Flash," you greeted casually and heard a thump in the locker. You froze, shoving your elbow into the door with a loud bang. 

Wincing, you looked up at Flash, who had joined in leaning on the locker next to you. 

"Hey (Y/N), are you going to the game tonight?" 

You shifted slightly, Flash had never picked on you personally, in fact many speculated he actually like you, but the mere fact he tormented Peter made casual conversation absolutely unbearable. 

"I'm, um, actually I'm studying for the BioChem test with-" You broke off as some of the other football players joined him. 

"Studying? Come on! I'll save you a seat and you can keep my jacket in case you get cold," he grinned and you smiled back uncomfortably. 

"Thanks Flash, but, um," you glanced at your feet for a moment. "I promised to study with him, so I can't. Thank you for the offer though."

He stiffened. 

"Him? Peter Park-"

"Look, like I said Flash, I appreciate the offer but no thank you. See you around."

His face hardened and he nodded, his buddies were laughing and you rubbed your arm nervously. You overheard them saying things about you as they walked the other direction and you glared, turning around to shut Peter's locker angrily. 

He glanced at you, a Statistics book clenched between his teeth as he shoved the other books and binders into his bag. 

"Why me?" You groaned and he rose an eyebrow. "Did you... miss all of that?" His brown eyes crossed to focus on the book in his mouth as he zipped up his black backpack. Reaching up and grabbing it, you laughed slightly. 

He huffed- the pieces of hair falling into his eyes blowing up for a brief moment. 

"Thanks," he muttered as he turned to glare at the blue and gold Letterman jackets as he took the book you held out to him, "I heard parts of it." 

You shouldered your backpack and nudged him. 

"Don't look so mad about it, Hulk. Besides, studying with you is way better than going to a Midtown high football game." 

Peter smiled, but you didn't catch him narrowing his eyes towards Flash Thompson.

Later that night you knocked on his apartment door, a supermarket bag full of chips and gummy bears in one hand and your book bag slung over your shoulder. 

"Hey Aunt May!" You greeted as she peeked through the door, "Peter and I have a study date," you held up the bag and she smiled. 

"Of course! Well, I didn't know about it... but you're welcome here anytime Y/N," she unlatched the door and welcomed you in with a hug. 

"Peter isn't home yet, he said something about running to grab something from the store, but he should be home any minute." She shrugged and rolled her eyes. "He never changes. Can I get you something to drink?" 

"Some water would be fantastic! I'll just go set these down in his room." You walked down the hallway and opened his door, jumping in shock as the window slammed shut at the same time. You cautiously set your bags down on his bed and looked at the window, a faint shimmer coming off the outside latch. Stepping to it, you pulled it up and leant your head out, twisting so as to get a better look. 

You pulled your hand back quickly as you had found a sticky residue on the latch. You squirmed as you realized it must have been a spiderweb.  Those things littered the fire escapes and windows next to them. 

"Y/N?" 

Jumping and slamming your shoulder into the wall, you groaned as you leaned back into his room. 

Peter looked at you quizzically, a wrinkled jacket in his hand and a... "WHAT THE HELL PETER PARK-"

He had sped over to you in record time, a hand covering your mouth. 

"Is everything alright?" Aunt May's voice shouted and Peter took a deep breath.  

"Yeah, Aunt May! I just scared Y/N, but everything's alright." He paused and looked directly into your eyes. “Y/N, Y/N, please... please be quiet! Just relax, everything's fine. Promise me you won't shout again if I let go of your mouth?" 

You nodded with frantic eyes, and he slowly removed his hand from your mouth and you stepped back.

"That's- that's the spiderbo-”

"SpiderMan," he interjected and you froze. He seemed to realize and held up his hands in surrender. "I mean, it's fine, whatever you wanna call it."

"This-" you gestured wildly around. "I- I don't care about whatever you want to call it! I care about why on earth you're wearing it?" 

"It's a Halloween costume?" His voice raised in octaves and you glared at him. "It's April..." he murmured and subsequently groaned. 

"Peter Parker don't even try to lie to me." You threatened he nodded. 

"Okay, Y/N, I'm SpiderMan." 

You blinked and glanced at the suit he was wearing. It seemed to make sense, his apparent strength he had gained a year or so back, the random disappearances, the cuts and bruises, the freaking latex suit he was wearing currently underneath his clothes...?

 But logically, logically, it didn't make sense at all, because this was Peter Parker, your Peter Parker, and there were many reasons it couldn't work. A) He would have told you? Wouldn't he? And B) he was Peter Parker, Your best friend, The boy you had known all your life. 

But deep down you knew, you had known there were inconsistencies, but this made it align perfect, it all made perfect sense, but...

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

He opened his mouth, only to close it again in apparent shock.  

"Why- why didn't I tell you?" He repeated, to which you nodded. 

"Why would you keep this from me?" You glanced down, your eyebrows furrowing. He grabbed your face gently and pulled it up to look at him.

"Y/N/N, I didn't tell you because I didn't want you getting hurt. I mean, it's dangerous. If anyone knew who I was- what your connection to me was, you could get hurt! Mr. Stark..." he paused. "Just let me change and I promise I'll explain everything." 

You nodded and sat down on his bed, looking up at the ceiling as he quickly changed and sat next to you. You listened completely as he explained everything that had happened, and you grabbed his hand and squeezed it. 

"... so I'm sorry I didn't tell you Y/N, you're right. I should have but I didn't want to put you in harms way. If something happened to you, I just, I couldn't handle it..." Peter paused and drew in a deep breath. He wanted so desperately to say, "I couldn't handle it if I lost you, because I love you," But he couldn't bring himself to do so. 

"Pete," you leaned your head on his shoulder. "I get it, I do. Not the Spiderman thing, cause that's a little out there, but just promise not to keep things like that a secret? From here on out I know, and I'm gonna help as much as possible, okay?" He grinned at that, running his free hand through his hair with a carefree laugh. "What's- oh my god Peter your knuckles are completely busted." 

He glanced down and shrugged, nudging you. 

"Yeah, but I'm SpiderMan." 

You chuckled and rolled your eyes, lifting his hand closer to inspect it. "Did you do this fighting some big bad?" 

"Oh yeah," Peter nodded enthusiastically, recalling how Spiderman had confronted Flash Thompson, for a completely viable reason mind you (his buddies were dealing drugs to young kids and he needed info), and successfully punched him in the face, a rather proud accomplishment for Peter. "Yeah," he repeated. "I got it fighting some big bad."

//Bonus///

You're eyes widened as the whispers flittered around you as you walked into school on Monday. 

"Did you see Flash?"

"Flash Thompson has a massive black eye!"

"It Happened Friday after school!"

"He won't say what actually happened..."

"Whoever did it sure does deserve some kind of medal!"

You turned to look incredulously towards Peter, who shrugged innocently. You picked up his nearly healed hand, but he knew what you meant. 

You had a busted hand on Friday... the same time Flash Thompson gets a black eye?

He threw an arm over your shoulder and whispered in your ear, "Told ya I got it fighting a big bad."

You didn't think you could smile any wider. 

"Be careful Peter Parker, or I may fall for my knight in red and blue latex." "Nothing could make me happier."