AN: Mild cursing, very very long chapter. Things improve from here. Also, "no-shirt Shane" was a reference to an experience I have living in a city, where you identify regulars by a trademark characteristic. For example, no shirt, shoes, etc.

"I can see you're looking for distractions, I can see you're tired of the acting, So why can't you show me, Who are you in the dark? (I, I), Show me the scary parts (I, I)," In the Dark – Camilla Cabello

…

Peter doesn't usually stop by the diner for a midnight snack, even though it is technically open at 11:59 pm. He's always been afraid that the late-night energy and hunger from his increased metabolism would skew his judgment and lead him to do something stupid like confessing everything to MJ.

But this time, he didn't have another choice. He just finished beating up some bad guys a few blocks down–they were stashing military-grade weapons in a restaurant freezer with their chicken, hoping nobody would find it. Despite the heat from his suit and constantly moving around, he was still cold. The police took way too long to show up, so he was stuck with the bad guys for a while. It turned out they were part of one of the gangs that had taken to disliking him and counted on him showing up. They were hoping to surprise and leave Peter in the freezer, but he was quick enough to get out. If he hadn't made extra web fluid during his last tutoring session, he would've been frozen spidey chops.

I gotta make the suit more insulated.

Nevertheless, he desperately needed a place to warm up, get something to eat, and perhaps lift his spirits by knowing a certain someone was okay. As he turned the corner to enter the store, he saw MJ glance at him, then quickly smooth her uniform, as if she was nervous.

She took a deep breath as Peter walked in, but her smile turned into a grimace. Was that a fake grimace?

Peter decided not to mention it. "Hey, sorry I know you're closing soon. Is there any way I could get some home fries and a hot chocolate? I'm freezing." He involuntarily shivered, and MJ smiled.

"Yeah, I can see that." MJ beckoned for him to pay, then told him to take a seat. "It'll be ready for you in a few."

Peter sat down in a booth next to the counter and realized how late it was. Why was MJ still working? Then he remembered the incident when he dropped her home and realized it must be a regular thing. Overachiever.

In the diner, his senses began to sharpen. He sensed something... strange. Not necessarily something dangerous, but his instincts told him that something was about to go down. They were warning him to steel his nerves. But there was nobody or nothing else in the diner except him, MJ, and the food. Not even anything in the freezers this time, thank god.

MJ brought him the potatoes and hot chocolate and read her book while standing at the counter. The drink warmed him up to his toes, mind, body, and soul. He was sure his astral form would be glowing at that moment. The fries reminded him of better times–ones that included his aunt and his friends, where he could just relax in his apartment with the people he loved. The memories calmed him but brought a faraway sadness.

In just 10 minutes, he was done. Peter waited to give MJ the usual generous tip as she cleaned up his table. But her expression was pensive. Her eyes were a little wide and very focused. She looked like she used to while doing a math problem in her head.

She turned around suddenly, and Peter was afraid she caught him staring, but instead, she asked him, "Do you think you could help me with something?"

Peter was caught so off-guard that he almost dropped his change and barely noticed the tension in her neck.

"Uh, yeah, um of course, yes, anything," he managed to stumble out.

MJ bit her lip, then after a brief hesitation, asked, "There are some shipments in the backroom that I have to bring in but I hurt my arm recently. I would do it otherwise but..." she trailed off.

"Oh yes, of course, I can do that. As long as it doesn't involve a freezer."

MJ raised her eyebrows. "Is a fridge okay?" Peter nodded.

"Thank you, you're doing me a huge favor," she told him. Peter thought there was something off about her voice. She sounded less blunt than usual. But Peter nodded.

There was a truck waiting for them outside. The back was open, but the inside was packed with boxes labeled everything from "napkins" to "coffee grounds" to "fresh strawberries."

MJ and Peter both jumped into the truck when suddenly, MJ pulled down the door.

"Uh," Peter looked backward in confusion. He still wasn't feeling any sense of danger. He knew MJ wasn't a threat.

"Listen," he heard a voice in the dark, hers. She pulled a string in the back, and a light came on inside the truck. "I think I know who you are."

Uh oh. Play dumb again. "Yeah, I told you. My name is Peter-Parker." MJ rolled her eyes, and Peter couldn't help but think about how beautiful she looked.

"I know there's more to the story than that. So, you're going to tell me what it is, or you're going to reveal it anyways by getting out this truck." Shit.

Peter needed to stall. "So that's your plan? How long have you had this truck prepared here?"

MJ looked smug. "We get shipments every day. It wasn't hard to get you here. Plus, you reek of suspicion. You're hiding something. Don't think I can't read your internal arguments whenever you have them."

Peter's jaw dropped. Shit. Shit, shit. She's too good at reading people. "Um, uh-," Peter couldn't get his thoughts straight. All of that time spent in despair, trying to keep himself together, was all for nothing. He tried to protect them, but he failed.

A single tear dropped from his eye. MJ surged forward and stopped just a foot away from him to wipe the tear.

"It's okay, you know."

"No, no it's not," Peter said. He took a deep breath and hoped his voice wouldn't crack. "Look, I figured this would happen eventually. You're too smart for your own good, and I was going to do this on my own time, after I figured out how to protect you."

MJ backed away from him. "You say all of this like you know me." Her eyes were narrow.

"I do," Peter responded.

"Well, I don't know you," MJ said. But he could tell her mind was racing.

"I know. It's probably for the best. You're better off-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" MJ's face was red, but whether from anger or sadness he couldn't tell. "Do you know how much I struggled? How empty I felt because I couldn't understand my own feelings and memories? Because there was a problem I couldn't solve?" There were tears in her eyes. "I didn't know myself. I still don't. Why do you think-." Peter cut her off.

"The day you told me... that was why?"

MJ nodded as if it was painful.

"Tell me this. Are you connected to Spider-man?" Her tone was accusatory.

Pain stabbed at Peter's heart. Looking in her eyes, he couldn't lie. She was pleading with him, and it broke him.

"I am him," he said quietly.

"And you decided not to say anything to protect me? And Ned, who's also been struggling? Or did you do it to protect yourself from guilt?"

"No, no MJ, I swear. Please, listen to me." He glanced at her, locking eyes, then looking down at her hand, asking permission. MJ nodded.

"I have been struggling so much over these last few months. I was trying to be selfless. When I saw you in the diner that first day with your forehead healed–" MJ reached for the scar– "I figured you guys would be better off without me. No more injury, no more harm, none of that. The gangs wouldn't target you–"

MJ shook her head and let go of Peter's hand to wipe a tear from her eye. "Do you know how easy it was to read you," she asked him. "Do you know how easy it was to see that you were trying to put on a show for the world? Trying to stop yourself from talking to me?"

"Uh..."

"Do you know how hard it was for me to know who I was, while having all of these feelings I didn't understand? These gaps in my life?"

"No, I didn't think of that." Peter felt small and stupid and a million other things at once. Shame, anger, sadness, despair, disappointment.

"You wanna fix that?"

Peter nodded vigorously.

"Good. Tell me everything and then maybe I'll forgive you. And I mean everything."

Peter got into another argument with himself. One side of him wanted to keep up the façade, play it as a social experiment or say he was just Spider-man's photographer. The other side of him wanted to slap himself for doing that to his friends.

"You're doing it again." MJ stared at him with a poker face.

"Sorry," said Peter. You already accepted that you can't protect them. You can't save everyone.

What would the other Peter's do? Peter gazed at the top of the truck. They'd do the least harmful thing.

Right now, that meant telling MJ everything and then figuring out how to avoid making the same mistakes.

Peter took a seat. "You should sit down," he turned to MJ. "It's a lot."

"I have time," MJ said.