A loud noise came from behind Wilson Fisk and he turned around to find all three of his men already having had their guns pulled and a funny-looking man in a suit and a mask crouching on the ceiling upside-down. He wasn't at all startled, only a bit surprised at the turn of events and so he slowly moved back into the room, letting the door close behind him. Although not in his usual get-up, Fisk recognized this man as the same one that has been messing up his business in the last months.

"Wait a minute, is this the secret annual magicians gathering? I think I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere in the vents,"

"Is that .. Spider-man?" one of the (clearly slower) Fisk's henchmen asked with a raised eyebrow, lowering his gun a bit.

"The one and only! I will be the one taking you down this evening so, please, in orderly fashion create a line to receive your- "

"So you're the one who's been causing havoc in my business and harassing my employees? Just a child," Fisk spat out, his voice washing over everyone, immediately getting the webhead's attention.

"And you're the one I've been looking for for months, just a chubby-hubby. I think we're both a little disappointed," Spider-man said with squinted eyes, although that was not at all true on his end.

Fisk growled. "Whoever puts a bullet in his skull, gets a raise," he said. Bullets started flying to the ceiling even before Fisk managed to finish his sentence, filling the room with deafening noise. But Spider-man was already gone and before anyone could see where he went, Spider-man leaped off of a wall and tackled two men at once. The room got quiet as the bullets stopped and he quickly took down two of the men by webbing one of them to the ground immediately and punching the other one in the face. He heard a crack as something broke under his knuckles and he flinched. He hadn't meant to hit so hard.

The last of the henchmen was still aiming his gun at Spider-man, afraid to shoot and accidentally hit one of his comrades, but once Spider-man got back to his feet, the guy fired away. Spider-man jumped backward, landing on one of his arms and pushing of the floor to do a full backflip. He avoided every bullet, impressing Fisk with his agility and scaring his man.

"This is kinda embarrassing for you, isn't it?" Spider-man chuckled as he approached the guy, his gun now empty. So he lifted his fists up, knowing that he had no chance of winning this, it was more out of fear of what Fisk might do to him if he wasn't prepared to do his job till his last breath. He had heard stories of Spider-man throwing cars so he prayed that he will get out of this with just a black eye and no broken bones.

Once Spidey was close enough, the guy threw a punch and missed, unsurprisingly. Spider-man caught his fist and did a 360 spin, pulling the poor guy with him and using the momentum to throw him against a wall and webbing him as soon as his back connected with it. He hit his head quite hard and lost consciousness.

"Now onto the boss fight," Spider-man said, dusting his palms against one another and turning to face Fisk, who was watching him.

"Maybe you just wanna give up? I don't enjoy fighting anyone who runs out of breath just by holding their arms up," Spidey offered, getting on Fisk's nerves but Fisk managed to not let it show.

"I have a proposition for you," Fisk said.

"No, I'm not sharing my diet tips with you, that's highly confidential,"

Fisk's jaw clenched, but he continued, "I'm offering you to work for me. I could use an individual with your skillset and I would pay you appropriately,"

"You're offering me .. a job?"

"To be honest, it wouldn't even be a job. You could continue whatever it is that you think you are doing, only ignoring my men, and sometimes I will contact you and give you information on someone's drug lab or underground casino and you just be you and go take them down. It really wouldn't be that different but this way you would be rewarded for your efforts,"

"You want me to turn a blind eye to whatever you're doing, and take down your competition?"

"Simply put, yes,"

"Let me think about this for a moment... " Spider-man touched his jaw with his thumb and index finger, "Hmm, Yeah, I don't think so. As soon as I'm on someone's payroll, I lose my superhero discount card, and I just can't pay full price for public restrooms," Spider-man got into his fighting stance, "So, are we fighting now or do you have any other offers I can refuse?"

"I figured that you won't be willing to cooperate, so I used the time you spent on my imbeciles wisely and did a little research,"

"Argh, can we just get on with this?" the Webhead said, relaxing again and rolling his eyes under the mask," I know I talk a lot during fights, but this is getting ridiculous,"

"Are you in a rush? Were you pulled away from something important? A prom, perhaps, judging from your attire and the boutonniere? You're still in high school aren't you?" Spider-man tensed at that and Fisk smiled. He lifted up his phone and showed Spide-man Midtowns High prom poster, making his eyes widen.

"This is the first one that showed up when I looked up which schools have prom tonight. And it was the only one, too. Are you a student at this high school? I think you are," Spider-man just listened, too scared to say anything Fisk could use as a confirmation.

"There are around four thousand students in this school, and even if we skip all the girls, investigating all of them would be quite the hassle. But then again, you showed up here wearing the same thing you wore to your prom,"

Peter's heart was picking up speed as he was listening. He didn't like where this was going.

"How much do you think it would take to bribe the photographer to get a copy of all the pictures he took tonight? 50 bucks? A hundred? A small price to pay for the face of Spider-man,"

Spider-man suddenly lept forward and connected a fist with Fisk's jaw. He didn't have a plan, he just wanted for Fisk to stop talking. Besides, Peter was starting to get angry, Fisk made him look completely stupid and incompetent. In basically no time at all, Fisk had uncovered which school Spider-man attended and all because Peter Parker was too lazy to wash his costume. He had to admit, he had been stupid, coming here dressed like that, but understanding this only added to his anger.

"Man, you do love to hear yourself talk,"

Fisk didn't even flinch, which confused the hell out of Peter. He had held back but still, it should have had some impact.

"I'm not finished," Fisk said with annoyance and punched Spidey in the stomach, knocking all the wind out of him. Spider-man leaned over himself, clutching his middle, "Oww."

"Once I know what you look like, it won't take long to find out your name, and then,.. well, do you want to know what I'll do then?" Fisk leaned down and Spider-man lifted his head up to look at him with squinted eyes.

"I'll find everyone you care about and make an example out of them. I'll start with your prom date. You did have a date, right?" Spider-man didn't answer.

"Then I'll find your parents, your little brother or sister, or maybe you have both? Do they know that you are Spider-man? Or will they die not knowing why I am doing this to them? I'll wipe out your whole family tree with my bare hands and I'll make you watch," Fisk leaned even closer, to Spider-man's ear and put a hand on his shoulder, "By the time I'm done you'll beg me to kill you," he whispered.

"Are you done now?" Spider-man asked and Fisk was happy to hear that his voice had lost all of the playfulness and the mocking tone.

"I am. But what do you think you can do to me?"

"Oh, I have a few ideas," he said and suddenly jumped up. He did a backward flip, kicking Fisk in the face. Fisk wanted to stagger backward but found that he couldn't move his feet and fell on his back. He looked down and saw that his feet were webbed to the ground. Fisk growled and leaned over to rip the webs but suddenly both his arms were by his sides, webs now covering his upper body.

Spider-man acted fast. He didn't know what Fisk was capable of but he knew that Fisk possessed more strength than a normal person and he was definitely smart. So he had to immobilize him quickly, get the hostages out and deliver The Kingpin to the cops, all wrapped up. He hoped his webs were strong enough.

"Well, this should do the trick," Spider-man said as he approached Fisk, who just glared at him. Peter crouched in front of him, "What were you saying about me begging you?"

Fisk just smiled and suddenly Peter's spider-sense went off but he didn't even have time to move. His eyes went wide as Fisk tore through the webs and not even a moment later grabbed Spider-man by his shoulders and hit Spider-man's head with his own several times before Peter managed to pull away. He staggered backward trying to blink away the dark spots from his vision when his spider-sense screamed again.

Fisk had gotten his feet free and was now close enough to reach him, so Spider-man tried to jump out of his way but Fisk is faster than he looks. He managed to catch Peter by his ankle and swung him over his head and into the floor with so much force cracks appeared below and around Spider-man. Then, before Peter could move, he grabbed his head and smashed it several times against the floor, denting it deeper. If Peter didn't have a concussion before, he definitely had one now. He was seeing stars, not only dark spots, and felt warmth spreading at the back of his head.

He shot out a web behind Fisk, hoping it will connect with one of the crates, and then pulled. One of the boxes came flying forward and smashed against Fisk's back, making him lose balance. He put his hands on the floor on both sides of Spider-man's head to not fall. Peter used the opening to kick Fisk in the stomach with both feet. The kick was strong enough to send him flying into the wall. Peter expected it to feel like kicking a big pillow but it felt more like kicking Rhino. He looked fat but there was nothing soft about Fisk.

Fisk grunted as he hit the wall, and before he could regain his footing, Peter shot a web to another box and smashed it against Fisk again. Before the dust could settle, Spider-man was in front of Fisk and was hitting him in the face over and over again. His knuckles were completely red before he stopped. He stepped back a little as Fisk fell to his knees.

Fisk spat out blood and a tooth, "It's been a while since someone has knocked out my tooth," Fisk said, "the last person who did that ended up without a head,"

"Give up, Fisk. It's over. The cops have surrounded this building, all your men are down and I have beaten you to a bloody pulp. There's no way out of this one,"

Fisk's laugh filled the whole room, "You're still so naive," he said, "You think a couple of punches to the face counts as 'beat'? I'm not one of your usual playmates," Fisk sneered, "You have no idea who you are dealing with, but you'll learn soon enough," he was standing up, and the light buzzing at the back of Peter's head told him Fisk was now more dangerous than before. He glanced down and saw that Fisk was now holding a katana. Yup, that could be a problem.

"Hey, I didn't know we could bring toys," Spider-man said and leaped on the ceiling as Fisk started swinging the thing at him. He attached a web to it hoping to pull the sword out of Fisk's hands, only to find himself being yanked down as Fisk grabbed the web and pulled the Wall-crawler to the ground. He fell on his back, the air being knocked out of him again.

"I didn't know you could do that -AARGHH," Peter screamed as Fisk brought his enormous foot down on his knee, breaking his leg. The pain shot through his whole body. He heard the crack loud and clear as day, and it was a disgusting sound that reverberated through the room. The pain, the dizziness, the taste of blood in his mouth, and now the sharp pain at the back of his head telling him it will get worse if he doesn't move made him nauseous.

He shot out a web to a wall behind his head and pulled himself away before Fisk could stab him. Fisk just growled at this in annoyance and quickly moved after him. Peter then shot a web to the ceiling to get to his feet quickly, he was careful to not put his broken leg on the ground, but it still shot a fresh wave of pain through him every time he moved. Which was all the time. And then his stupid Spider-sense blared again.

His lenses widened as he saw the katana coming in his direction from the left, close enough to cut him in half. Spider-man jumped backward and when he landed in one piece, let out a sigh of relief.

Fisk had to admit, as annoying as Spider-man was, he had amazing reflexes. He failed to cut the bug in half, but his shirt was turning red in a blurred line on his stomach, although Spider-man showed in no way that he was affected by that. He might also be tougher than he looks.

Spider-man shot a web to a chair and smashed it against Fisk, who brought his hands up in reflex to block it. Peter used that and disarmed Fisk with another web, sticking the katana on the ceiling.

"Listen, Willy, it's really not fair if you alone get to play with pointy things," Peter said.

"You better not damage it, you idiot. That's one of the last Masamune's swords. You could sell both your kidneys and it wouldn't cover half of its worth," Fisk warned him.

"I don't know who that is, but you're the one who brought it to class and couldn't play nice. I had to confiscate it," Spider-man replied while trying to understand if the room was spinning to the left or to the right.

Fisk, who was already annoyed by this child, was now furious, "You dare mock me?!" he roared and with two quick steps was close enough to reach Spider-man, who did try to leap away but in his foggy mind made the wrong decision and, well, as embarrassing as that sounds, smashed himself into a wall. There was no time left to evade the punch coming for him so he managed to draw a quick breath before he got punched just below the ribs and he felt his lungs screaming for air again. He fell to the ground on his hands and knees. He would have screamed from the pain coming from his leg if he could, instead he was gasping to get air back in his lungs. He clutched his stomach with one hand which was - wait, why was it damp? He looked at his hand and, oh God, blood.

"Wha..?" he looked down and saw that his shirt had a nice long cut and the white was now mostly red. So he hadn't managed to avoid the sword? But how? He couldn't feel a thing, although now the cut was starting to burn a little.

"Oh god..." he breathed out. This is so very bad.

Fisk brought up his knee to Peter's face, effectively breaking his nose and making him fall to his side. There was blood in his mouth, too much blood, but he couldn't spit it out without pulling up his mask. He tried to swallow it but only choked and started coughing, getting the blood on the inside of his mask anyway. The coughing made his insides catch on fire and he grunted in pain. The fact that he was still conscious was a wonder on its own, although he had to fight his mind to stay that way.

"How the mighty have fallen," Fisk loomed over Spider-man, "pathetic child. I can't believe you're the one who caused so much grief to my men,"

"Oh, I -uhn- aim to please," Spider-man managed to get out. He knew he was losing a lot of blood and he couldn't fight anymore anyway, the condition he was in. So his best bet was to get out of here, lick his wounds and then find Fisk before Fisk could find him. Next time, he won't make the same mistake and won't hold back. And he will make sure there are no sharp objects in Fisk's reach. And that there is more space for him to maneuver.

"Still cracking jokes. It's almost admirable,"

"Thanks, I guess," Peter replied and moved his wrist a little to web Fisks foot to the ground. Fisk noticed that and tried to step on Spider-man's hand with his other foot but Peter pulled his hand away and webbed the other foot too.

"What do you think you are doing?" Fisk asked, his voice full of anger, but the only answer he got was webbing in his eyes, "Argh, you-!" blinded, Fisk lost his balance and fell on one knee. More webbing stuck his hands to the floor.

From experience Peter knew Fisk could tear through the webs, so he emptied half of his cartridge to wrap Fisk in cacoon, leaving free only his nose. This should give him enough time to get away. The sounds coming from the cacoon were not pleasant ones and Peter felt sorry for whoever will be here when he gets out.

Fisk could hear Spider-man grunting in pain as he got to his feet, while he himself was trashing inside the webs. After it was all silent for a moment, somebody spoke.

"He got away, boss. But you really showed him," the guy who was webbed to the wall had come to about halfway through the fight and watched Spider-man limping away, opening the secret door and leaving a trail of blood behind him.

Fisk responded with muffled shouting, and although the guy couldn't understand him yet, he knew he had made a mistake by saying anything.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Peter leaned against a wall and checked his injuries.

He was bleeding out, which was his biggest concern so he tried to close his stomach wound with webs. It was a long, clean cut, right above his belly button, but it didn't seem too deep. Maybe half an inch, if he had to guess from the looks of it. He had no idea if the webs were working or not, but it was better than nothing, he thought.

He couldn't do anything about his leg, or his head, or the broken nose, or the pain, or nausea. But he was still conscious and more or less mobile, and there were still the hostages he needed to find. He will push through the pain and feel sorry for himself later. He only hoped there weren't any more of Fisk's henchmen hanging around.

He got to the end of the hallway and tugged on the doorknob. Obviously, it was locked, so he broke it off and opened the door. He limped inside the dark room and could see two figures squirming on the ground. Peter opened the door wider to let inside some light and now could make out the two people. One was a woman, one was a man, both could be in their early thirties. The woman was sitting on the ground on her knees and the man was lying on his side in front of her with his back turned to her. Even a blind man could see they were trying to get free of the cords around their wrists, but they froze as soon they saw Spider-man come inside.

"Hey ... citizens. I'm here to get you out," he said and gave them a little wave. He watched them look him up and down, their eyes going wide.

"Who are you?" the man asked.

"I'm Spider-man. And yeah, I left my costume at home and got a little roughed up on my way here, but really, the mask is still on," he pointed to his face with both hands. "C'mon, let me help you with that," Peter offered, gesturing to the cords. He limped over to them and tried to squat but quickly changed his mind, sucking in his breath through his teeth.

"Uh, could you both maybe stand up? It would save me a sea of pain," the Wall-crawler asked. They just looked him up and down again, and then with some squirming and struggling, got up.

"Thanks," he said and snapped the cords.

"What happened to you?" the woman asked, her eyes unable to look away from the red stain on his stomach. Her nose twitched.

"Ah, I just .. underestimated the Michelin tire man, that's all," Peter answered, leading them out of the room and down the hallway, listening closely to any movement up ahead and his Spider-sense, which was keeping quiet, thankfully. Or maybe he just couldn't feel it over the pulsing headache.

"Did you go through all that to get to us?" She asked, staying closely behind Spider-man.

"Well, yes, I guess, and no. I mean I'm here for you, but I'm pretty sure this would have happened sooner or later either way, so," he trailed off, slowing down as they passed the place where the secret room was. He shushed both of the hostages, but he couldn't hear anything. It wouldn't surprise him if the room was soundproof. Spider-man started moving faster again as they were coming closer to the staircase, fighting the darkness creeping around his mind.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," she said, "it looks ... painful,"

Peter was so surprised by what the woman had just said he stopped and looked at her. Peter recognized guilt and worry in her voice. It felt kinda weird, none of the people he had saved up until now had cared about his injuries. No one had ever treated him like a human who feels pain before.

"Listen, don't worry about it. I know what I sign up for every time I go out with a mask on."

"But there's so much blood,"

"It's fine, really. Now come on, we're almost out,"

Once they had gotten out of the building, cops rushed in immediately. EMTs surrounded them too, and everyone was asking questions. Peter just ignored everything and left as soon as he saw the two people being safely led away. He pretended he didn't hear the officers saying that he needs to tell them exactly what happened or the EMTs telling him he needs to be checked out, and pulled himself up in the air with a web line.

The hostages were saved and he was still alive. Another night for the win. Now all he had to do was get home and ... He had no idea how he's going to get away with this.

There had been times when he came home with a black eye or a bleeding lip, the only injuries he couldn't hide from people, and Aunt May always worried so much. He had managed to come up with weak excuses such as he ran into a lampost or a cyclist got caught by his bag causing them both to crash. His bruises were always gone in a day or two, so he had convinced his aunt that it's never serious, he just bruises easily and heals just as easily.

But now, with all this blood. If he could just get in without May noticing, getting out of the suit and stitching his stomach closed. He knew that once he washes away the blood and waits till morning to show his face, it shouldn't look too bad. And there was also the broken leg. That worried him too, he didn't want the bone to heal the wrong way but he couldn't exactly go to an emergency room to get a cast. How would he explain it to May? Maybe in the morning, he will have some bright ideas about that. And he can't give back the suit anymore either, he will have to pay for it with money he doesn't have.

If Peter weren't in so much physical pain that was increasing with every swing, he might have had an anxiety attack.

And then there's MJ, he remembered, waiting for him to come home so they can talk about his alter-ego. She had said she doesn't know how to feel about his secret life. Well, he hadn't seen his face yet, but something told him it wasn't pretty and might make things worse with MJ's open-mindedness. He should also wait till morning to deal with that.

Peter was swinging fast, not letting himself stop or slow down. From previous injuries, he knew that once you stop and rest, it's a hundred times more painful to start moving again. He just needed to get home as soon as possible and then he will rest.

Once he got to Queens, it didn't take long for his house to come into view. But once it did, he stopped. The light was on in his room. So much for having the house to himself...

Crap, how am I supposed to change now? Well, there was MJ ... Could he hide out in her room until May goes to sleep? He was bleeding still, the web had gotten kinda loose and the blood was oozing out... And he was feeling nauseous, he didn't want to throw up on her floor .. Oh, why is the life of a superhero so difficult?

Pondering it over for five seconds, he decided going to see MJ was the lesser of two evils. He landed in her backyard or more like fell into it with a grunt.

"Argh- Oh god, why?" he cried as he got back to his feet and stumbled to her house, careful to stay in the shadows, although it was so dark now that he didn't have to try too hard. She had left her window open, as she had promised, and he could see a small light in her room.

He started to climb up the wall to her room, but his leg was really protesting against it, plus he didn't want to get blood on her carpet, so he shot a small web to her window to get her attention. Three seconds later she was sticking her head outside and once she saw him, she gasped, then clasped a hand over her mouth and disappeared.

Peter assumed she was coming down, so he limped back to the end of her backyard and leaned against a shed. He allowed himself to slowly sit down and breathed deeply. A moment later MJ was outside, quietly calling for him. She had changed into trousers and a grey t-shirt, but her hair and make-up were still as they had been during the prom. She still looked stunning, Peter thought to himself.

"I'm over here," he called back and she rushed over to him.

"Oh God, Peter, what happened to you?"

"I got a little scratched up," he said and pulled off his mask. He breathed in the fresh air, just now realizing the mask was making it hard to breathe before. MJ gasped again and he knew he probably looked as bad as he felt.

"Jesus, Peter, what ... How should I help?" she asked, her eyes darting all over him. MJ sat down on her knees, reaching out her hands to him but afraid to touch him. Peter looked at her apologetically.

"I'm actually, hn, not sure about that myself," he replied, "just, please, don't freak out,"

"Not freak out?! How can I not, Peter, your face looks like - like, urgh, I don't even know, it's all red and purple and ... How can you be so calm?" her voice was gaining volume and she was breathing faster, so Peter took her by the wrists and made her look him in the eyes.

"MJ, trust me, my face is not a concern right now. The blood is just from my nose, it got broken, it will be healed in three days max. But I am starting to feel a little bit cold and lightheaded and I think that is from the bloodloss," she looked down to his stomach, but he lifted her chin back up, "right now I actually could use your help, so breathe in and ouuuut, okay, slowly," he waited for her to do that a couple of times, breathing in sync with her and, once he felt like she won't have a panic attack, continued, "I need you to bring your first aid kit, a wet towel and a ... a needle with .. a thread," he was feeling more and more lightheaded and the world was spinning again, he tried to blink it away, "Okay? I .. can deal .. with thi..s, I can ..." he was suddenly breathing too fast himself, with shallow breaths.

"Peter?!"

"I .. don't ... somethings not ..." and then his eyes rolled up before closing and he fell on his side.

"Peter!" MJ grabbed his face with both hands, his skin felt cold or maybe her hands were too hot, but he wasn't moving anymore, " oh, please open your eyes, Peter, I don't know what to do," the small sense of calm Peter had managed to talk into her was completely gone again, tears already spilling from her eyes.

She tried to sit him back up, but her hands were trembling and she couldn't control them very well. She looked around, looking for something or someone that could help, but she was all alone with her boyfriend unconscious and bleeding out.

"Oh god oh god oh god, I have to get myself together," she closed her eyes and tried breathing slowly again. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Okay, she could do this. She didn't have a choice. She opened her eyes again and looked down at him, still lying on the ground, breathing a little too fast and having blood everywhere. She checked his pulse, and that was fast too. This was very bad. MJ cursed herself for not paying more attention to the first aid seminar, but then again she doubted it would have helped in this situation.

"Okay, Peter, I'll try to lift you up, okay?" she said, more to herself. She pushed him back to a seating position and then lifted his arm over her shoulder and, pushing with her legs, slowly lifted him from the ground. He was quite heavy but not impossibly. She considered waking her dad, but there was a bigger chance he'd told her to call his aunt so she deals with Peter.

She managed to get to her dad's car, holding Peter by his waist and the arm she had put around her shoulder. MJ's legs were shaking and she was breathing hard, but the effort she was putting in helped to keep her head clear. She leaned Peter against the car and then remembered that the car keys were still inside.

She slowly sat him on the ground again, and he grunted in pain as she did so.

"Peter? Can you hear me?" MJ grabbed his face again with her hands.

"MJ?" he managed to get out, but it was more like a whimper, "It hurts,"

His voice was so weak and filled with so much pain, MJ felt a sharp pain in her own stomach and her eyes teared up again.

"I know, baby. I'll take you to the hospital, okay? You'll be okay in no time,"

"No, I can't go to the hospital," Peter protested, even opening his eyes a little and moving up a bit, and then added, weaker again, "May will worry and I can't ..." then he was out again.

"Just wait here, I'll be right back," she set Peter back on the ground gently and then ran inside. She scrambled around, checking the shelves in the corridor, trying to be fast but quiet. She then checked her dad's coat and finally found the keys in one of his pockets.

She rushed back outside and unlocked the car. Peter was still lying on the ground. She opened the passenger seat door and slowly lifted Peter inside. She tried to do it as gently as possible, but he was heavy and she dropped him on the seat too quickly. She then took his legs and lifted them inside, but she couldn't bend his right leg to fit it inside the car. And then she understood.

"Oh god, it's broken too," she couldn't help a whimper escaping her lips, "Oh Peter, what happened to you?" she asked to thin air, crying again.

She felt around underneath the seat and found the right lever. She pulled it and the chair slipped back, creating more space for his legs. Once he was fully inside, she put the seatbelt around him and closed the door.

She had to get herself away from the verge of a breakdown again, she will have time for that once she gets her boyfriend to the hospital.

MJ got into the driver's seat and turned on the engine. She didn't have a driver's license yet, but she had driven around in this car before. A thought crept into her mind, how pissed her dad is going to be, but she pushed that down and concentrated on the road. She knew where the Queens General Hospital was, so that's where she took him.

She stopped her car by the entrance and got out to get someone, but nurses were already rushing over.

"Tell me what happened, sweetie?" a younger-looking nurse with blond hair up in a ponytail asked her while another went to get more doctors as soon as they saw Peter.

"My boyfriend, he got attacked. I think he's stabbed and his leg is broken and - and - " MJ couldn't continue anymore, she was crying so hard. She had done it, these people will help Peter and she can now let go of everything she was keeping under control. The nurse embraced her and MJ peeked through her fingers to see Peter being lifted out of the car and onto a stretcher and the doctors were bringing him inside. She appreciated the blond nurse trying to calm her, but MJ pushed her away and ran after Peter.

He was rolled through the entrance, people already running around him and talking in loud voices but MJ couldn't hear them. She just saw Peter through her tears and went to hold his hand but someone pulled her away. She didn't want to take her eyes off of him, but then he was pushed through another door and she was held in place by someone and she couldn't follow him. Finally, she looked over at who was holding her and it was still the blond nurse.

MJ allowed herself to be led to another room where the nurse gave her a pill and some water. She took it and felt herself calming down slowly. After a minute, the shaking stopped and she was able to speak.

"We will take care of your boyfriend, okay? You don't need to worry about that. And you can tell me everything that happened."

I'm not exactly happy with how this chapter turned out, but I've been working on it for way too long and I'm kinda tired of it. Maybe I'll write another chapter where Peter and MJ have the Talk, or how they come up with a story for Peter's injuries, or I might rewrite the whole thing, but for now, it's done. Thank you for reading!