I really hope you guys like this chapter! Thanks to yesshirbert for beta-ing!


The conflicting feelings Peter had before were not resolved in the way he had hoped. Before, he couldn't decide whether his biggest issue was he didn't have a plan, or because he didn't want to get involved. It was his ultimate decision to pursue Michelle, but he realized as he held her that he was attached in a way that he couldn't afford to be anymore.

Still, devoted to their friendship, he stayed knowing that it would only make things more difficult for him. Staying ultimately cost him. Now, he was sitting on a bench at the foot of the bed, Michelle sleeping on his shoulder. At some point, the tears just tired her out.

Peter thought of the many definitions of friendship and the way the moments played such big roles in his life. There were things like Ned helping him through the loss of his parents, something that got Peter through the experience ending up in a far better place than he was before. There was also the way Peter stood by Ned every hour of every day when Ned's parents were divorcing, solidifying their friendship against any cracks in their reciprocity. Finally, there were moments like this where Peter stood as still as he could so he wouldn't wake Michelle up, as hard as it was to be there. He wanted her to fall asleep without interruption. Once some time passed, he'd be able to move her without waking her up.

Until then, he had to resist every thought about just how much it was going to cost him to let her go. Peter couldn't imagine how after all this time that he'd chosen this moment to figure out his feelings, but he knew what it meant.

Peter did everything to move her without letting his thoughts get to him. He put her down carefully, remembering his promise to her. He didn't know how he would manage to be at her father's funeral as both Peter and Spider-Man but he was going to have to make it work. He didn't let himself linger, knowing if this was going to work, he had to do everything to convince himself he felt nothing for her but friendship.


The day of the wake, Peter saw Michelle for the first time as himself. Aunt May stayed with her for a few days before Michelle finally agreed to leave her house. Until then, Peter pretended that he didn't know what was happening. When he hugged Michelle this time, she was oddly composed. He assumed maybe this meant she didn't trust him as much. As Peter, he was "other". This was just another reason to cut the cord on his feelings, he thought. They had no hope if she didn't trust him as himself. Especially not if she was meant to forgive him for lying.

Now, he couldn't let that take up too much of his focus. He did everything to keep her comfortable. It was going to be difficult moving her in. The apartment only had two bedrooms, May's and his. May insisted that Michelle take her room but the couch was too small for anyone to sleep in. They told Michelle they had an extra bed, but really that just meant May would be sleeping in Peter's bottom bunk while he slept in the top.

The arrangements were set before Michelle could protest. As expected, she still hadn't come to terms with all of the change. Peter never claimed to always understand Michelle, but her body language was unreadable now. She was like a ghost most of the time. According to May, she had been like this since the day after her father died.

Michelle wouldn't eat breakfast, she only pushed the food around with her spoon when May showed her concern by furrowing her brow, gazing at Michelle and then towards her nephew. Peter spent most of his time staring, he realized. He didn't have any answers for how they could help Michelle. She was never good with strangers. She knew May and Peter well, but not well enough to feel at home with them.

So Peter just watched her quietly even as she unpacked her bags after breakfast, only turning away when she caught him. She went on her laptop, the only thing she completely unpacked, and browsed until it was time for them to get ready. Barely speaking to Peter, she was an entirely different person now and he was going to have to accept that if he meant to help her.


Walking into the funeral home, Peter was met with more overwhelming memories. He remembered a funeral home just like this one. Much like during his parent's funeral, the room was full of unfamiliar faces, though they were now here for David, Peter couldn't distinguish them from the same strangers who were once there for his parents.

Peter wasn't close to his parents the way some kids were. They were just there. They were good to him. He loved them, but he didn't spend a lot of time with them. They both worked. He preferred his friends. They loved each other, but from a distance. They almost never spent time together outside of the house. Peter barely knew them. .

Maybe that guilt was the worst part.

When he walked into that building, he was the first one there. He was taken to see his parents. When he looked down towards their bodies, he was miserable but he didn't cry. He'd seen them before, in the hospital. They were cleaner now. His mother looked bright. His father was poised. They were the best versions of themselves, the only side he ever got to see. Just like in life, looking at them, they felt foreign. They were strangers. By this time, he had nothing left to give. He had nothing. Ben had to pull him away from his spot. The man's touch was gentle, as he always was. Gentle.

During the rush of people greeting him, he met plenty of coworkers he'd never met before. They all knew his face. They'd speak of the pictures of him hanging around his parents' office. They'd talk about how proud his parents were to have him. Peter spent every greeting willing them not to talk about his parent's love for him. How could it be so obvious that strangers could recognize it and yet Peter never did? If they'd thought about him so much, why did he have to hear about it after they were gone?

Peter was new to the neighborhood, so he didn't have many familiar faces there for him. Ned was his favorite person to see. Ned's parents brought him money, which was just confusing enough to make Peter smile. While Ben tried his best to understand their reasoning, their traditions, May intercepted the conversation to accept the gift respectfully. Meanwhile, Ned pulled Peter aside to explain the foreign concept. They got wrapped up in conversation about many Filipino traditions.

It kept Peter present, talking about something other than his parents at their wake. He needed the distraction. None of those other people were his friends. None of them were important to him. He didn't need them involved or apologizing for his grief.

Thus began his self-isolation, with Ned as his sole exception. They had a sleepover that night, and Ned introduced the first lego set, a gift from his cousin, a simple cheap spaceship model.


Peter pulled himself out of his thoughts just in time to realize he'd wandered too far away from the rest of the crowd. Turning, he watched Michelle get a hug from Liz before turning to speak to someone he couldn't see. They hugged her, coming into view.

Flash.

Peter did his best not to let his curiosity get to him. He'd always thought Michelle hated Flash. Thankfully, Peter had a perfect distraction to take his mind off of it.

From behind, a man called to him. "You're Peter, right?" Vincent asked, his hands together in front of him. One could barely see the handcuffs behind the suit.

May told Peter to look out for him. Peter recognized the resemblance instantly. Next to them stood a guard, look directly ahead as he ignored them. The guard. May warned him someone would be watching Vincent for as long as he was visiting. "It's nice to meet you. I'd shake your hand but-"

"Vincent?" Peter guessed aloud, though he was sure.

"Yes, Michelle's told me a lot about you." Peter did his very best not to let that get his hopes up. By the stirring in him and the smile on his face, he failed.

"May's told me a lot about you," Peter answered back. He could recognize instantly Michelle was right about her brother. Even in handcuffs and a suit, his attitude radiated charisma.

"Good things, I hope." Peter chuckled, happy that this conversation wasn't uncomfortable. May told him not to be too concerned. Vincent was a good kid, just two years older than Peter. She used to babysit Vincent for David.

"How are you doing?" Peter knew well that it was the worst question he could ask, but he also knew there was nothing else worth asking.

"Better, actually," Vincent answered with a level tone. "I am trying to take it as well as I can." Peter was surprised by his positivity. He knew people handled things differently, but May had warned Peter that Vincent's level-headedness would be stunting. This boy had been to hell and back and handled it all with a smile on his face. Today, he wasn't smiling, but he wasn't crushed either. "It's better for everyone."

Oh .

Peter knew that feeling.

"She's going to get better," Peter mused aloud, hoping that saying it would make it true.

"I don't know what to say to her."

"I lost my parents too, when I was 11." Peter was doing his best not to be surprised at how easy it was to talk to Michelle's brother. Their outputs were so different. Vincent's presence just radiated comfort in the way David's did. "There is nothing to say." David nodded carefully, as they both watched Michelle.

Peter was about to ask why David wasn't greeting the guests when he saw the officer and Vincent exchange a look. The officer was asking him for something. Vincent just nodded, understanding the quiet command. "You should get back to the others," Vincent insisted. "Keep an eye on her for me, would you?"

"Promise," Peter answered, watching them walk off. He forgot May said Vincent wasn't going to be allowed to say or do much around other people. It was expected of those allowed to leave the prison for a funeral.

Vincent seemed to be doing his best not to call attention to himself. Peter supposed it was right to help him. Returning to Aunt May's side, he arrived only for her to hand him an envelope of money. Ned's parents must have arrived.


The funeral was a much easier process. Every time Peter lost himself in thought about his parents, the mass brought him back. He'd never been to a Catholic funeral before, but the prayers were interesting to him. As May and Michelle prayed, he'd watch the art in the building, unsure of how to mimic those around him. Still, the event went very peacefully, with Peter seeing in May's face that the lectures about loss helped her more than they ached her. However, Michelle seemed untouched by the words, holding a steely stare at the back wall of the church as though she was planning something.

May told him Michelle would be speaking at the committal service. Michelle was never good in front of crowds, she didn't like people. He couldn't imagine how she found the strength to speak.

Wandering towards the burial site, he recognized a suited man with sunglasses on watching from a few yards away. Peter drifted closer, trying to see if it could really be him. Tony.

"You shouldn't have come up to me," he complained quietly. "Look confused."

"Confused?" Peter asked, obeying by mere coincidence.

"That, exactly like that," he answered, nodding at his face. "You're not supposed to know why I'm here. You weren't even supposed to see me."

"You shouldn't be here."

"I know," Tony sighed out.

"So why are you here?" Tony didn't answer, as always, but Peter understood this time. Tony knew Michelle for weeks now. If Peter knew anything about Tony, it was that his sympathy for children was boundless. Peter couldn't imagine what it was like not having a good connection to your only parent, but it was a tragedy that marked Tony's entire future. Even as a young teen, Peter could see that plain as day about him.

"Here she comes," Tony muttered, looking off behind him.

"Tell her Spider-Man is here," Peter quickly requested. He didn't get to wait for an answer.

Louder now, Tony put on a more official tone to his words. "Well, kid, I should get going. I'll see you around the office."

"See you, Mr. Stark," Peter said, as level as he could manage. As he turned, he pretended to be surprised to see Michelle walking their way. She didn't even bother putting false airs to why she was approaching. She just marched right by Peter like it was perfectly reasonable for her to approach Tony Stark looking braced for murder.

Peter wished he was a better lip reader. He could tell by their body language that Michelle was furious, but he couldn't tell much else about the conversation. Before too long, she rejoined the group just as the priest called everyone to their places.

Just as the ceremony was about to begin, a text popped up on Peter's phone. He didn't mean to read it as he silenced his phone, but the contact name distracted him.

Anthony: She's planning something.

Peter turned back to see Tony walking away. Looking to Michelle, Peter noticed the eerie calm around her. She wasn't sad anymore; she was cold. Ever since he first saw her after her father's death, being around her felt like being left out of a secret. He had written it off as grief but Peter knew he'd watched her grieve. If not as himself then as Spider-Man instead, and it looked nothing like this.

When it was time for her to speak, Michelle looked to the congregation without tears in her eyes but instead with a stiff and stern expression.

"Growing up, my father was never really one to talk about loss. Although he often looked very serious, the moment you spoke to him you'd realize he is one of those special people put in the world to make you feel good. He focused on the positive, something he wished I would learn from him."

Next to him, May let out a shaky breath. Peter held her hand tightly in anticipation of what she would say next as Michelle continued.

"I read once that trauma has a way of grabbing you. It pulls you into its hold and it's like the entire world has changed with you." Peter's jaw loosened as he heard the words from his journal. Her eyes were avoiding the crowd, looking to the trees for something. Spider-Man. "Grief is a lot like trauma in that way. My father would want us to remember the world continues spinning on without him. He always looked forward to whatever good could come. While we mourn today, he would want us to think not of loss but instead on what he's left us with. We have all been given a purpose. More than anything, he'd want us to continue our work and remember what he's taught us." Peter wondered if anyone else heard the threat hidden in her words.