Title: Joint Souls and Broken Bones
Summary: In which soulmates share each other's pain; Peter Parker gets into just as many fights as you'd expect a superhero to and Michelle Jones is convinced that her soulmate is dying. Initially follows the events of Homecoming. Soulmate AU.
Disclaimer: I am not associated with Marvel and make no profit from any of what I am posting.
Joint Souls and Broken Bones
Chapter 10
"Your laces are undone."
Michelle jumps. At the voice. At his voice. At the sight of him standing in front of his locker, books in his hand and backpack slung over his front.
She glances down, if only to turn away from Peter, and, sure enough, her laces are undone.
"Thanks," she mumbles.
It's not that they haven't talked since last night. Peter slid into the seat next to her in class. He sat directly opposite her at lunch and even partnered with her in practice. But they haven't been alone since last night— since he abruptly left her room.
"You know," Peter says, and he closes his locker, clicking the lock into place. "I have a theory that the amount of friction in the world is decreasing."
"Because my shoelaces came undone?" Michelle deadpans, opening her own locker so that she can pretend to shuffle through her belongings while he talks.
(So that she doesn't get to look at him. And stare at him. And think about last night.)
"No. Because my shoelaces are constantly coming undone, and I swear I'm slipping more than usual and the only valid explanation for that is that friction is decreasing."
"Dork," Michelle mutters. "Have you considered the fact that, maybe, you don't know how to tie a shoelace? Or that the grip on your shoes has worn off?"
It takes an effort to keep her tone level. To sound like herself. (Like she isn't talking to her soulmate who also happens to be Spider-Man who also happens to believe she has a soulmate from another state.)
"That doesn't sound like a valid explanation at all," Peter says, and Michelle finally dares to glance at him. He's smiling like he's enjoying their banter. Like he thinks he's being funny.
He's not.
Funny.
But Peter's smile, the hint of a dimple on his right cheek, the way he looks at her— it makes Michelle's heart soar.
He's her soulmate, a voice in Michelle's head whispers for what must be the millionth time. Peter Parker is her soulmate. She's so fucking lucky and, yet, Michelle's scared. Scared because he's Spider-Man and because she's felt his pain. Because she doesn't want Peter to blame himself for hurting her. Scared that one day he'll go too far and leave Michelle with an ache that won't ever fade away.
"Did you clean up last night?" he whispers, and Michelle snaps back to the present.
It's the first acknowledgement that last night happened. That she knows about his secret. It's been in her head all day, and yet, it feels different when Peter says it. This makes everything seem more real, somehow.
"Yeah. How's your leg?"
Peter falters for a moment, then shrugs. "Better," he says, but Michelle's felt his pain through the day. She knows that his leg throbs every time he sits wrong, or stands still. (She knows he's lying.)
"Walk with me?" she says, and Peter looks up sharply, like he isn't expecting the question. There's an unsaid whisper of the name James, but she daren't bring it up. Not now. Not yet.
Michelle still doesn't know why she lied. Or, well, she knows why, but she can't justify it.
She didn't want to hurt Peter. (She just didn't want to hurt herself either.)
It was all so sudden, so out of the blue. She wasn't ready for the truth to come out— she'd barely had time to process the fact that Peter was (is) Spider-Man. Michelle thinks of his hand in hers, of the way he'd flinched when she'd cleaned his wounds. Of the way he'd opened up to her completely— stripped himself of all secrets.
He trusted her with everything he had, and Michelle didn't have the guts to tell him her only secret. One that concerns them both.
"I can't."
"Oh," Michelle says, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She hates the sinking feeling in her heart. She hates that she wants his company— that Michelle wants to hear him ramble about Star Wars and she wants him to hold her hand. More than that, though, Michelle hates that she wants to spend time with Peter, but doesn't have the guts to tell him why.
"It's just that May's kinda freaked out about yesterday. She doesn't want me going out tonight."
"Right, of course."
"You can come over though. If you want. She wouldn't mind."
Michelle looks up too quickly, her cheeks turning scarlet. "Sure," she says, though, something in the hammering of her heart and her sudden inability to look Peter in the eye makes her feel like she's doing something illegal.
Like this isn't allowed.
The thing is, they're different now.
Michelle feels it in the weight of the silence between them.
She sees Spider-Man in the way he walks— light on his feet, like he's used to being weightless. She sees it in the way he sidesteps a speeding bike, in the way he winces at his leg when he steps wrong. She sees Spider-Man in him when he taps her shoulder, mumbles something distractedly and leaves her side to help an old man cross the road.
Michelle wonders how she'd never noticed before.
She's known Peter Parker— the class genius, brilliant at AcDec, and a Star Wars nerd. That's still there of course, but now he's more. He's someone who stops to help people. He's selfless and brave and everything a superhero should be.
(He's everything that Michelle isn't.)
It scares her to think of how good he is. She doesn't know how far he's willing to go— She doesn't know how much he's ready to sacrifice for the rest of the world.
She thinks of his wounds last night. Of the way he hadn't been able to carry his own weight. Of how she'd dragged him from her bedroom to the shower.
What if she'd been busy last night? Would he have just passed out on the road, all alone and with nobody to help him?
She can practically picture Peter passing out in a deserted alley after a fight. She can see the way he stumbles, his legs giving way underneath him. The soft thud as he hits the ground.
He's already out there, pushing himself to a breaking point. How much longer until he goes to a fight he won't return from?
How much longer does Michelle have before she loses him?
She shudders at the thought and, instantly, she feels Peter's gaze on her.
"Are you cold?"
She shakes her head. "No."
The back of his hand brushes against her— it's a quiet gesture of comfort. Michelle almost wishes he'd hold her hand again, stringing their fingers together and running a thumb over her knuckles.
He would, she thinks, if he knew the truth, (If she told him the truth.)
"Em," he says and, where last night the name had made Michelle blush, today, it stings. She's lying to Peter. About herself. About him. (About them.)
She's being selfish and foolish, and he's so fucking nice, she doesn't deserve this. She doesn't deserve him.
"You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I'm fine," she insists, but her voice cracks like she's about to cry, and she feels anything but fine.
"We're almost there," Peter says. Promises. "May won't be back for a bit, so we can watch a movie or something if you want."
She nods. "Okay," Michelle whispers, but it feels wrong.
She doesn't know what she's doing.
Her head aches. Her palms feel sweaty.
Michelle knows she owes him the truth. That with every moment she spends with him, it becomes harder for Michelle to justify her lie.
I feel like rewriting all of this. I feel like my writing has changed and that depression has kicked in and these last two chapters just sound wrong. I'll finish this fic. I promise. (There's only one chapter left till I'm done!) But I'll edit this too and, maybe, if you come back to this fic in six months, it'll be better.
I'm also sorry for the delay in posting, and for not replying to any comments. You guys are the best and I've read every single comment over and over again and they do give me hope and make crappy days feel less crappy.
So thanks for sticking around!
