"I bet, This time of night you're still up, I bet, You're tired from a long hard week, I bet, You're sittin' in your chair by the window, Looking out at the city, And I bet, Sometimes you wonder 'bout me, And I just wanna tell you, It takes everything in me not to call you, And I wish I could run to you, And I hope you know that every time I don't, I almost do" - I Almost Do (TV), Taylor Swift

…

Peter's apartment is lonely, dark, dingy, grimy, and small. Most of the time it's enough–he barely spends any time in there anyways. But on days like today, when he reads and rereads and rereads and rereads the speech he meant to give MJ again and again, his mind stays on everything else that he left behind.

MJ doesn't really even know him. She might know Spider-man, and honestly, Spider-man and Peter Parker are similar in almost every way that counts. But MJ doesn't know Peter's history, his mind, or his heart anymore. But Peter knows her's and the disconnect kills him only just a little.

He can't help but think about her on nights like these, where he knows she'd be awake, just having finished studying and staring out the window before she goes to bed. He knows that she would wake up in less than 6 hours, and with only one cup of coffee, manage to get through the school day with no trouble at all.

A selfish part of him hopes that she thinks about him–either as the awkward kid from the diner (ew) or the hero who somehow knew where she lived (double ew). Okay, wait, maybe that wasn't as good as it sounded in his head. He hopes that she thinks of him, though, the better, smoother parts. Maybe as the kid who tips generously, or as the neighborhood Spider-man who was somehow in Washington DC when he should've been in Queens.

Peter picks up his cheap, prepaid phone, with only enough power to hear 911 alerts and make a few calls. There's one number he's never dialed though but comes too close to doing so at least twice a week.

He's had MJ's number memorized for security reasons ever since their trip to Europe. Ever since she became a FOS, she (and Ned, but that happened long ago) needed to be reachable at all times, from anywhere. Including the last payphone in Astoria.

Almost without thinking, he dialed her number. He was an inch away from calling, but he stopped himself.

No, no, Peter. Don't do it.

Truthfully, he wanted to so badly. The last week had been extremely rough.

He learned from Peter 2 and Peter 3 that the life of a superhero was a lonely one. It involved so much sacrifice and pain just to keep those they loved safe. He was ready and willing to accept that at the time. He knew it would be hard.

For the first two weeks, it was bearable. People were kind and generous for the most part. He got at least one free churro per week from the churro lady. Firefighters gave him high fives and offered him paid positions (he declined the offer).

But he needed comfort. He wanted somebody to care about him for once–not him as the superhero, but him as Peter. He wanted to feel worthy for just being himself.

The only living people who could give that to him were MJ, Ned, and Happy.

But they didn't know Peter. For each night that he didn't call one of them or tell them the story, he almost did.

"If you're nothing without the suit, then you shouldn't have it."

He remembered Mr. Stark's words. So, who was he without the suit? Except for a forgotten, almost non-existent soul?

Alright, Peter. Deep breath. Recenter.

Peter Parker was a 17-year-old kid, somehow making it on his own in New York City without help. He designed his own suit and sewed it. He always chose kindness and the path of hard work and determination that would help others. Let me not gas myself. Peter was also addicted to coffee, extremely awkward, and a nerd.

Yeah, that about sums it up.

Another thought kept him going. Those connections were not lost to him forever. He intended on keeping his promises to MJ and Ned but just... didn't know how to yet.

He knew he'd get there, no matter how cold and brutal it was. Whenever that almost turns into done, that'll be the day.

God knew he deserved it. One day, it'll come.