Hello readers present and future!

I just saw Captain Marvel last Sunday, and I have to say, the haters have it all wrong. I won't spoil anything for you guys, but who else thought that it was an amazing movie? Totally loved Goose, cat could probably defeat Thanos.

DISCLAIMER: Like I said before, I do not own anything and this work is not intended for profit. Enjoy!

Darling, Forgive Yourself

He could feel it coming, a prickle on the back of his neck, a warning surging through his veins like electricity. He felt as if he was about to puke, and maybe he was. But throwing up would be the best case scenario, and today the best case scenario seemed to be less than nonexistent.

"Mr. Stark?" he called out, his voice trembling - he was so afraid, "I don't - I don't feel so good. Mr. Stark please I…"

He found he couldn't stand on his own. He was being violently ripped from this universe, and he needed a safe anchor to hang onto. He felt himself collapse into the older man's arms, felt hot, wet tears streaking down his face and realized he was sobbing. "I don't wanna go. I don't wanna go."

He collapsed to the ground, still holding on to Mr. Stark. "I'm sorry…" he started to say, but he didn't get to finish, because his tongue was dust now and everything was going dark. What would they tell Aunt May? She would be worried sick…

"Beep...beep...beep!"

Peter jolted to a sitting position so suddenly he startled a few pigeons that had been roosting outside his window, who quickly flew away. The teen was breathing hard, shaking like he was caught in a snowstorm. His hands were gripping his sheets like his life depended on it. He forced himself to take deep, relaxing breaths. It was just a nightmare. Eventually, his shaking reduced, and he was able to relax a little, leaning back against his pillow and breathing heavily.

He had been having the same recurring dream ever since he had fought those aliens in New York with Doctor Strange and Mr. Stark. And every time, it always felt so real, like he could reach out and touch the dust on the air if he wanted to. He closed his eyes and tried to distract himself with thoughts of happy things. Like how he and Ned were planning on doing a Star Wars marathon this weekend, or the jokes MJ would sometimes text him when she was bored.

There was a gentle knock on his door. "Peter? Are you up yet?" Aunt May stuck her head into the teen's room, offering him a small smile. "I made some cinnamon rolls. Come down when you're dressed, okay sweetie?"

Peter nodded, scrambling out of bed. "Okay, Aunt May." He threw on a Stark Industries T-shirt and the first pair of clean pants he came across. He ran a hand over his hair in a futile effort to get it to lay flat before deeming himself school-acceptable. He shrugged on a jacket and grabbed his backpack, shoving his suit into the front pocket as he did.

He entered the kitchen, breathing in the sweet aroma of sugary cinnamon rolls fresh from the oven. Aunt May had already set down plates for the both of them, and he felt as if he could practically inhale the pastry. But he forced himself to take slow bites so that he could savor the sweet taste.

"So," said Aunt May, chin on her fist, "I know patrolling is important, but so is schoolwork, sweetie. So, how about this? You can patrol until five-thirty, and then I want you home, okay? I don't want you falling behind on your assignments again."

Peter nodded, and May sat back, satisfied. Peter had thought it would have been hard to have Aunt May knowing he was Spiderman, but it actually made his life much more easier. No more having to sneak into the apartment, no more dodging awkward questions be they from Aunt May or a guest, and no more of that guilty feeling he would get when he remembered he was keeping secrets from her.

"Okay. Also, do want pizza or Chinese food for dinner tonight?" May asked, putting hers and Peter's plates into the sink and spraying them down with water and dish soap. Peter was still amazed at how well his aunt had taken to him being Spiderman, aside from her initial first reaction.

"Let's do pizza."

"Great," said May, "also, I got some time off this weekend, so maybe you and I could go to my friend's house in the suburbs and I could take you out in their car some?"

Peter felt excitement brewing in him, forgetting all memory of his recent nightmare. Was Aunt May saying what he thought she was saying? "Sure, that - that sounds cool," he managed to get out. May smiled and bent down to give him a kiss on the top of his head.

"You better get going; you don't want to miss your train."

Am I still coming over tomorrow night for team dinner? Peter taped into his phone as the subway rocked and swayed. There had been a time when he would text ten times a day, seven days a week, and get no response, but recently Mr. Stark had given Peter his personal number and told the kid he could text whenever he needed or wanted to.

The response came almost instantly: You bet, kid. Oh, and Thor will be joining us, too. And maybe Carol, if she doesn't have another meeting with some government agency.

Peter still hadn't seen very much of their new team member. He didn't even know very much about her. He knew that she had experience with memory loss, that her powers consisted of massive amounts of energy, and that her made-up name was Captain Marvel, but that was it. He hadn't gotten a chance to see much of her, with the fact that he only came over on Tuesdays, and Carol had been going on talk shows and convening with scientists every weekday for the past couple of months. But if Tony was to be believed, things were finally calming down for her.

Peter was moving to put his phone back in his backpack when the screen lit up with another text notification, from Tony again. Be careful at school today, okay?

He felt a sudden prickle on his neck, as if someone was watching him, someone on this very train car. It's nothing. You're just being paranoid, he told himself, quickly tapping out a reply: Okay.

He had no idea what had suddenly changed Tony's mind about Peter being involved with the team, but he had a hunch that it may have had something to do with his performance with the "space donut", as Tony had dubbed it. He imagined that he had finally impressed Tony enough to earn his respect. Enough to earn his spot on the Avengers, for real.

He still felt like someone was watching him, and he tried to scan the train as inconspicuously as he could. There were the usual businessmen Peter had grown accustomed to seeing, not paying him any mind. A couple sitting in the back, currently in the middle of a passionate kiss. A few homeless people. A mother reading a book while her children wiggled in their seats. A couple other high school students, all absorbed with their phones. Still, though, the prickle on the back of his neck remained.

"Hi!" said a voice from behind him. He turned around to see a dark-haired girl wearing a purple top smiling brightly at him. She looked to be in her Senior year, perhaps a bit younger, and she was clutching a purple notebook.

"Hi," Peter said nervously, gripping onto the pole for support as the train car rocked and swayed.

The girl held out her hand. "You go to Midtown High, right?" When Peter nodded, she offered him a bright smile. "I'm Kate, and I'd like to ask you a few questions for the school paper, if you don't mind. We're taking a survey on the average transportation the student body takes."

Peter nearly sighed in relief; he had just been being paranoid, nobody was watching him, and Kate's intentions seemed to be good ones. "Sure, that's fine," he said, relaxing for the rest of the ride while Kate asked him a few questions about where he lived, what classes he was taking, how usually he took the subway, etc. He wondered briefly if he might be mentioned in the school paper.

"Hey, Peter!" a voice called out across the hallway. Peter turned around to see MJ grinning mischievously at him. "See you at lunch?"

Peter felt a slight thrill. Sure, he and MJ had been regularly sitting together at lunch ever since she had joined the debate team, but sometimes he still found that he couldn't believe how lucky he was. He had practically ignored her the whole of Freshman year, and she had every right to sit with people who were cooler than Ned and Peter if she wanted too, yet she still chose to sit with them.

The warning bell rang, and Peter hurried to his algebra class. Students were still rowdy, still full of energy, having just come back from winter break. Peter dodged two kids playing catch with a pair of old gym sneakers, and dodged three paper airplanes, before he finally managed to find his way to Ms. Garcia's Algebra Ⅱ class seconds before the bell rang.

Neither Ned nor MJ was in this class with him, and unfortunately, Flash Gordon was. And, customary to his character, the kid couldn't resist taking a jab a Peter for being out of breath. By now, though, Peter had gotten used to Flash, and did his best to ignore him, focusing on finding an empty desk. There was only one seat left, of course, in the back corner of the classroom next to a kid he didn't recognize.

Peter offered the kid a faint smile, but the stranger only stared at him through a curtain of dark hair. Peter sighed, sitting back in his desk, and resigned himself to a long semester.

Ms. Garcia had started calling attendance. About halfway through the list, though, she stopped and examined it, as though she needed to inspect it for an inaccuracy the way she inspected their tests. She looked confused for a moment, but decided to carry on.

"John Doe?" she asked, and the room went deadly silent.

Then, the kid who was sitting next to Peter spoke up. "Its Lucas, actually." He said it with a certain smooth, instinctual confidence, but Peter couldn't help but notice how carefully his neighbor was choosing his words. Also, that the kid had a British accent - but that was a hard thing to miss in an American school.

"Sure thing," said Ms. Garcia, making a note on her seating chart. Peter frowned; Ms. Garcia never changed her seating chart, so this kid must have been something special. For a brief moment, Peter could have sworn that the kid looked familiar, but it must have been his paranoia from earlier come to return.

After Ms. Garcia finished taking attendance, she uncapped a dry erase marker and began writing an equation on the board. Peter was trying to pay attention, he really was, but he couldn't help but overhear a whispered conversation going on near him.

"Psst. Lucas" It was Flash. "What's up with the John Doe name, huh? Are your parents really dumb, or did you hit your head and forget your own name? Huh?"

Lucas glared at Flash and looked as if he was about to do something drastic. Specifically, jump out of his chair and wrap his hands around Flash Gordon's throat. As interesting as that might be, it was probably best if a fight didn't break out in Ms. Garcia's math class.

Peter slowly placed his hand on Lucas's shoulder, putting just enough pressure to let the kid know that Peter would hold him back if he had to, but not to much pressure as to hurt him. "Don't go after Flash," Peter whispered, "it's just what he wants."

The kid looked for a moment like he was going to protest, but then he nodded and sat back in his chair, focusing on the lesson. Peter made an effort to do the same, if only to have a distraction for his muddled mind.

"He showed up at the hospital a couple months ago with amnesia," said MJ, twirling some of the cafeteria's spaghetti around her plastic fork, "he's been working on recovery, and the doctors finally said that he could to to school."

"How do you know all this?" Ned asked, subconsciously leaning forward in his seat.

MJ shrugged. "I asked."

"Was he offended or anything?" Ned shot a glance at Lucas over his shoulder, who was quietly eating his lunch.

"No," MJ said, "he actually liked how upfront I was. Said I reminded him of someone, though he didn't know who."

She brushed a strand of curly brown hair behind her ear before twirling another forkful of spaghetti. Peter couldn't help but admire her confidence; he wished he had half the boldness she did.

Peter glanced behind them at Lucas, sitting at a lunch table on his own. The kid didn't seem bothered by it, but Peter thought that it seemed wrong that the kid had amnesia, and yet was sitting alone. Wouldn't spending time with people help him get his memories back?

Peter didn't know why he did it, if it was a sudden bout of selflessness or a sudden bout of insanity, but he found himself rising from the lunch table and picking up his lunch tray, approaching Lucas's table.

"Hey," he said, holding out a hand, "I'm Peter, we had the same math class."

Lucas stared at Peter's outstretched hand, as if he were afraid it might burn him. Peter decided to give up on the endeavor and instead sat down across from the kid. He felt something brush against his side as MJ sat down next to him, offering him a small grin before turning to Lucas.

"We're going to sit with you," she informed the raven-haired boy, who did seem to be rather shocked. He appeared even more so when Ned sat down on Peter's other side. Ned offered Lucas a cautious smile before looking down at his plate again.

Lucas looked like he was about to say something, but MJ interrupted him. "No, we aren't leaving anytime soon. You looked lonely, and I know what that's like."

And thus concludes chapter 1! :) I think I should hopefully be able to update regularly on Wednesdays and Saturdays, maybe more often next week because of spring break.

Reviews:

Karlicm: This fic will be mostly fluff, but yes, there will be some sad parts. Glad you're enjoying it so far.

PandaFace201: Aw, thank you. It's great to have people saying stuff like that. You have a great week too. ;)