Any twenty-something will tell you that life is a rollercoaster. One minute you're on top of the world, the next you're plummeting down, plunging towards the cement ground at a hundred miles an hour with no means of pulling the breaks of your own demise.

But if you asked Peter Parker, twenty-four and currently balancing out a post-graduate and superhero life, it was far worse than that. The highs were higher – as high as space, actually – and the lows were…

Actually, he didn't like to talk about the lows. They were the kinds of lows he sometimes couldn't remember, and that said it all. He could deal with those, but it killed him to see the effect it had on Grace, the way she worried herself sick over his well-being.

They had been dating for a solid five years now, and lived together in a small, grimy apartment – the only thing they could afford – near NYU, where they both studied mechanical engineering. It was how they met, in freshman year, and slowly became permanent features in each other's life.

Grace was strong and steadfast, though she often gave the appearance of a delicate slip of a woman, Peter had discovered it was no were near representative of who she really was. He knew she could take whatever life threw at her, and that was why he didn't push her away when things started becoming serious between them, and he realized it might one day put her in danger.

He had once told her she was like a river: calm and steady on the surface, but intense and full of life deep down. It had made her smile and she had called him silly, then kissed him. Peter loved the way she loved him, and he loved to love her too. It was easy, like second nature really. There was no fighting it, and to be honest, Peter didn't even try because turning away from her radiant presence was the last thing he wanted. However, that didn't mean that he could impose his alter ego to her.

Therefore, he had decided to tell her about his double life, to give her a chance to back out of their relationship if she decided it was too much. He never got the chance in the end, because the day he finally worked up the courage to talk to her was the first day he got seriously beat up by a villain since they started dating.

Grace had found Peter in the alley next to her shared apartment, limping in the shadows and calling her name in a whisper. He had collapsed and lost consciousness before she could reach him.

That day became a turning point in both their lives, but not necessarily for the worst. Grace had carried him – hell knows how – up to the fourth floor where she lived and smuggled him in her room without her roommates noticing anything, and she had tended to his wounds after establishing that he wasn't in any life-threatening condition.

Peter woke up two days later, the morning sun hitting him in the face, his Spider-Man suit hanging on the back of a chair next to the bed he laid on. He recognized his surroundings immediately, sending his heart into a frenzy, but when he tried to stand up to leave, the pain knocked him down again and he fell back into the pile of pillows on Grace's bed with a grunt, the air sucked out of his lungs.

Grace had burst into the room, an apron tied around her waist. When she saw him awake, tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked them away, one trembling hand covering her mouth.

"Grace," Peter breathed out, still struggling to catch some air. "I can explain…"

She didn't let him. Instead, she lurched forward and threw her arms around him, crying into the crook of his neck. She tried not to hold him too tightly, but the relief was too great to just stand there.

"You could have told me, Peter," she sobbed against his skin. She had undressed him to dress his wounds, Peter realized. "I was so scared, so scared…"

Her entire body shook against his, and Peter could only wrap one arm around her while he supported himself with the other, but he too was relieved to see her. She knew the truth now, though he would rather she discovered it another way.

"I know, I'm sorry," he apologized, planting a kiss on her temple. "I was going to tell you, I swear. This isn't how you were supposed to find out."

They held each other for hours, quietly crying and whispering sweet nothings, until Grace was all out of tears and Peter's stomach began to grumble. He hadn't eaten in two days after all, and he was in dire need of a shower and a warm meal. He promised to tell her everything over breakfast, and after he made a quick stop at the bathroom while Grace prepared some eggs and bacon, he came out of her room, limping but very much alive, wearing the spare clothes he always left at her place.

Those were the best scrambled eggs he had ever eaten.

000

Flash-forward three years, Grace didn't have to drag Peter's limp body out of an alley and sneak him into her shared flat. A little over a year ago, when they graduated, they decided to try for a master's degree too and moved in together.

It wasn't much, they basically lived on top of each other, but it was theirs – and neither of them really minded having to live on top of each other. Peter liked to think that if Tony was still alive and saw where he lived, he would forcefully drag him out, have the entire building demolished for not respecting the most basic health standards, and buy him his own private penthouse overlooking central park on fifth avenue.

Grace told Peter she would have personally overlooked the demolition, because this place was truly not sanitary in any way. Still, they made do, and after thoroughly cleaning, sweeping, scrubbing and swabbing, it started to look like a place human beings would live in. It became their home.

Peter waited until dusk to go on his daily patrols, so no one would spy Spider-Man lurking around their living-place. The last thing he wanted was for someone bearing ill-intentions to lay a hand on Grace while he was gone.

"I can see you vibrating from here," Grace commented with a giggle, looking up from her manual and momentarily stopped scribbling down notes.

She was sitting at the far end of the couch, legs tucked under her, while Peter was kneeling next to the window, already wearing his suit, though he still held his mask in his hand, and waiting for the moment the streetlights would turn on – his signal that it was dark enough to leave.

When she spoke up, Peter froze and realized his left leg had been hopping nervously, and he was fidgeting.

"Can't help it," he said with an apologetic glance. Grace only smiled in return. He knew she had trouble focusing on her work whenever he was in the same room, being a nervous wreck about one thing or another. "I hope I can find him tonight, before he makes more victims."

His gaze was trained on the streets down below, but he heard Grace put down her pen and shut her book. A new villain had been terrorizing people around town, targeting small, family-owned businesses with no security, not even cameras. The police couldn't find him because they had no idea who to look for, his identity remained a mystery, for all they knew he might not even work alone.

Peter had almost tracked him down last week, but he managed to escape in the night, and had kept popping here and there to do his misdeeds every night since. Peter felt responsible and grew antsy knowing he was still out there. The other reason why no one knew what he looked like was because he never left survivors. The victims were found in truly gruesome conditions.

Peter hadn't seen for himself yet, but even the police reports sounded awful, and they always toned it down for the public and tried to keep everything objective. Reports talked about massacres. Blood everywhere.

"I know how much you want to catch him, Peter," Grace started, sighing deeply. She stood up and joined him by the window, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Please be very careful." Her eyes glimmered with worry. "I don't want to see your name in tomorrow's headlines, understood?"

"I have to stop him, I'll do whatever it takes," he argued. "I should have caught him long ago, no one's managed to elude me for so long. If only I knew how he always managed to disappear-"

"Peter!" Grace cut him off. She knelt down to be at eye-level with him and took his chin between her fingers. "I'm afraid your eagerness will lead you to making a mistake. Be smart about this, don't just rush into a fight and risk your life."

"I risk my life every day, Grace, there's nothing new about this," he protested, shaking his head. "What's the matter now? Why is this guy any different?"

"You know why," she snapped, standing up again and crossing her arms. "I heard the reports too, Peter. You're not the only one who can connect to the police frequency, I know what he did to those people. He's a butcher."

"Which is exactly why I need to stop him!" He didn't see what Grace expected him to do. "Who else is going to do it? The police are clueless, and I'm much stronger than them anyway."

"But you're not invincible!"

It came from a good place, but it wasn't what he wanted to hear right now. Peter yanked his head back so Grace would let go of him, and he turned away, making her sigh again. They rarely argued about anything, at least nothing of real importance. Sure they disagreed on stuff, like what movie to watch, whether to order Thai or Indian, what to get May for her birthday – but they always found common ground when it came to grave matters.

Grace always knew that Peter Parker would be the death of her, even before finding out about his double life. From the very first time he had laughed at one of her idiotic science puns, she had known. During their first tutorial class, the teacher had paired the students randomly together, and they had never again changed partners since.

But having to watch him fly into the night, not knowing when, how, or if he was going to come back, was something Grace never thought she would have to bear with. Most girls only had to worry about not being cheated on or keeping things spicy in the bedroom. Grace had to worry about her boyfriend never coming home, about Peter going MIA. Each goodbye kiss could be the last, and she was aware of that, she made them all count.

But not tonight.

"I didn't mean-"

"It's time," he said before she could go back on her words. She regretted them the moment they crossed her lips. The streetlights were on. "Don't wait on me."

And just like that, he jumped out of the window, disappearing out of sight. Grace leaned on the frame to see him off but he didn't turn back at all. She couldn't remember the last time they parted ways on such bad terms.