.

.

.

Chapter Thirty

.

.

.

The sirens off in the distance were resounding louder and louder as it cut through the night air with their speeding approach. But none of it was as loud as the noise that she felt pounding inside her head. Like a buzzing white noise that canceled out any other distraction from the outside world. All the while, her focus was acutely honed in on Peter Parker's face.

Peter is Spider-Man…

Spider-Man is Peter…

For a long moment, that was all that her mind was able to comprehend. There was not much deeper thought with the reverberant shock that she could feel throughout her entire body, even straight down to her toes.

So all that she did was stare. And memorize his features…

That is, until small bits of reality started to slip in through the cracks on the mental wall she had recently built in her mind. As she was looking at his face, she became more aware of the bloody cuts and bruises littered across his exposed skin. Worry deepened within her gut as she surveyed them. He was still unconscious... Was he alright?

Mary Jane shifted her own aching body as she carefully extracted herself from underneath him, making sure to slowly lower his head to the ground by supporting its weight. Then, she crawled off to the side to sit beside him on her knees. All the while, she was taking shallow breaths from inhaling too much smoke.

Her hands hovered over his form uselessly, trying to figure out what to do or how to help him. She couldn't take him to the approaching ambulance, could she? She hesitated. Surely he avoided hospitals on occasions such as this… but what if he was gravely injured?

"Oh God, Peter… Please be alright."

As she panted in heaving breaths, she inspected his face… before confusion struck her. She could have sworn that the cuts on his face had been openly bleeding a moment before. And though they still looked fresh, the wounds did look significantly better the longer that she studied them. A memory struck her of the night that she met him - as Spider-Man, not as Peter. They had both surmised that he had enhanced healing abilities, which is what helped to heal his mind so quickly. A part of her was fascinated to watch it happen right before her eyes. The other part… it told her that this was a good indicator that he would be waking up soon.

As if to prove this, Peter let out a slight groan in his unconscious state. His eyelashes fluttered slightly against his cheekbones.

Mary Jane released a shaky breath. "Okay." Her eyes blinked away tears. "Okay."

Then, before she could change her mind, she leaned down and pressed a quick but firm kiss to his cold, sweaty cheek, smelling traces of sandalwood in his hair underneath the stench of smoke. And with all of her strength, she got to her feet and ambled her way to the side of the house that was vacant of all of the others. As soon as she turned the corner, she put her back to the wall and waited. It only took a moment before she heard a long moan resound from across the distance between them.

"Uhhhgggh," Peter groaned, his voice emanating disorientation and pain before he released a series of coughs. Mary Jane bit her lip in both sympathy for him as well as to try and keep in the cough in her own throat that wanted to come out. "My head…"

The relief that flooded through her at the sound of his voice - that he was alive as well as lucid - almost brought a sob out of her chest.

"What happened?" He asked himself drowsily. The sound of him sitting up was heard from her vantage point. "Oh no… Harry's house."

She hadn't even allowed herself a moment to think of the current condition of the mansion that Harry called home. But Peter did? Was he always this selfless and caring?

He released another series of coughs before clearing his throat. It was quiet for a moment after that and then- "Happy!" Mary Jane jumped at the unexpected exclamation. She whipped her head around, looking for the disgruntled driver but didn't see him… before understanding came to her. Peter was on the phone. "Something happened at the party- I'll explain later. Can you please bring me a spare change of clothes? Oh- and also, can you get in touch with General Ross? I've got a pickup for the Raft prison."

Mary Jane bit her lip at the reminder of her father. She closed her eyes and took a moment to compose herself before she forced herself to leave. Peter was alright. She shouldn't linger and spy on him, no matter how much she wanted to just stand there and listen to his voice…

She pushed herself off of the wall and stumbled toward the gate that led to the front yard. She was able to unlatch it with only minimal difficulty - which was a miracle in her mind because she could feel the adrenaline that had been maintaining her actions so far start to wane at a steady rate. She swayed on her feet as she pushed open the gate door, finally giving into the desire to cough continuously.

The front yard was pure chaos. Fire trucks were planted on the front lawn, already dousing the house with a large fire hose as Firefighters started running into the building.

"I'm telling you!" She heard Harry's voice from a not so far off distance. "They are still in there! And-"

The voice cut off as Mary Jane stumbled forward, coughing up a storm. "Mary Jane!"

She took two more steps before she tripped and fell to her knees on the grassy lawn, not even bothering to get up as she saw two pairs of heavy-set footsteps from the Firefighters running her way. She could barely get a breath in now that the adrenaline was gone and the floodgates had been opened - so in between the coughing, she was hyperventilating. One of them scooped her up in his arms as he cried, "She needs oxygen!"

She let herself be weightless as the man carried her to the back of a fire truck, no longer having the strength to even keep her head up. The firefighter gingerly sat her down and a moment later, an oxygen mask was covering her mouth.

"I need you to just sit there and take deep and steady breaths, alright?"

Mary Jane was almost too exhausted to nod, but she forced herself to do so. She hadn't even realized that she had been shivering until a blanket was placed around her shoulders. She clutched it to her and let her head fall against the side of the truck. She closed her eyes, breathing with regular intervals of coughing that broke up any potential of peace that could be had.

She lost track of time for how long she sat there, but as it passed, her breathing had gotten slightly easier. But the exhaustion was paramount. Still, she wasn't able to make that slip into unconsciousness no matter how hard she tried. Her mind was both bustling and devoid of thought at the same time - as contradicting such an idea was.

She knew that she had much to think and speculate on. Peter is Spider-Man. But the haziness that edged the corners of her mind didn't allow her to think much beyond that at the moment.

Why wouldn't sleep just claim her? Then she would be able to think clearly once she woke up again.

More time passed as the hurried movement of dozens of people surrounded her. She heard Harry call out to her as he was being ushered into an ambulance but at the time, she hadn't even had the strength to open her eyes to acknowledge him. She felt bad about that.

"Mary Jane!"

Sudden strength found her at the sound of his voice and her eyes snapped open.

Peter.

He had spotted her from across the lawn and was currently running towards her, his face entirely marred with desperate worry - most of the wounds on his face now clear. When he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace but the action released a steady stream of hacking coughs to erupt from her lungs. Peter pulled away immediately.

"Sorry! So sorry!" His hands hovered over her in the air, as if afraid to touch her now. That wouldn't do in her mind, so she gave him a soft reassuring look in her eyes before she reached out to grab his arm and coaxed him forward so that he was sitting right beside her. "Are you alright?"

His voice was softer now, hesitant but searching.

She reached up to remove her mask in order to speak but his hand stopped her. "No, wait. Keep that on. It's helping you get better."

She lowered her hand, nodded, and in response, she laid her head down on his shoulder and sighed.

They sat there in companionable silence for a long moment. While Mary Jane simply enjoyed having him with her. His shoulder was a much bigger comfort for her head than that of the metal fire truck. But he also brought another level of comfort… he brought her peace.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you…" He said after a moment. The was an underlying guilt in his tone.

She opened her eyes, not even having realized that she had closed them. She reached up to remove her mask. He tried to stop her again.

"Wait-"

"None of this is your fault, Peter," She said, her voice raspy and worn raw from all of the coughing. "It was my dad who came to a high school party looking for me. If anything, it's-"

"Don't you dare say that this is your fault," He interrupted her. His voice was fierce, something that she had never before heard from him. It shocked her into silence. "You are the innocent party in all of this, Mary Jane. You never asked for any of this."

She lifted her head and stared into his eyes. Her eyes started welling with tears. "He never really loved me, did he?"

Peter could only stare at her, his eyes displaying so much emotion even as his mouth was frozen tight. She didn't expect him to answer. She coughed before letting out a shaky breath as she wiped at her eyes.

Peter silently reached back down for the oxygen mask held down by her chin and lifted it so that it was secure around her mouth again. Then he wrapped his arms around her in a light embrace, pulling her towards him. She let herself be pulled.

"I'm so sorry, Mary Jane…" Peter whispered softly above her head. And that was when the steady stream of slow tears fell down her cheeks.

No words were exchanged after that. The crowd on the front lawn got less and less. Her breathing got steadily easier. All the while, Peter sat with her, holding her as she cried.

That was how Mr. Hogan had found them. And not long after that, she was told by a firefighter that she was free to go, with instructions on aftercare in the coming days.

Mr. Hogan drove them home. Only this time, instead of contempt or suspicion being shot back at her through the rear view mirror, she only saw concern pointed her way.

Perhaps Happy Hogan has a heart after all.

They dropped her off at the temporary apartment first. Mr. Hogan must have called her Aunt Anna because she was standing on the street outside waiting for their arrival, pacing with worry.

She was ushered out of the car and Peter helped her up to the apartment by supporting her side in his strong arms. Normally, she would have felt guilty by placing so much of her weight on someone else, but it was reassuring to know that Peter could handle her weight - plus more if needed. He felt like a safety net over rough waters.

When she was placed on her bed, the sleep that she had been longing for had finally found her. She drifted immediately with the last lingering thoughts on how she had much to think about when she finally woke.

.

.

.

A/N: I know that this is short but it felt like a good place to stop at the moment. Poor Mary Jane :(

Please leave me a comment/review!

.

.

.