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Chapter Thirty-One

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He won the fight. Beat both the Molten Man and the Sandman. With all of the odds against him, he had somehow managed to come out on top…

So then why did it feel as though he had just lost?

After leaving Mary Jane's apartment, Peter had told Happy that he needed to swing through the city to let off some steam. It was with great reluctance that Happy let him go, but only with a warning that he was going to call Tony and tell him all that he knew of what happened tonight. "Expect a call, Kid. He's going to want more details."

Peter had reluctantly agreed, but only so that Happy would let him go. But as he thought on the impending call that would come, Peter felt an ice-cold dread at having to relive the memories of the night. The truth was, Peter wasn't quite sure what happened tonight. One moment, he was webbing up Mark Watson. And then the next… he was outside on the ground.

He really couldn't make sense of it. How had he managed to get outside? As he swung his mind came up with a few theories. It was a great distraction tactic that served to occupy his mind away from the memory of Mary Jane crying in his arms... He shook his head and focused. The one theory that he paused at was that perhaps it was due to his spider-sense that he got out of the burning building while unconscious. It kinda creeped him out if that were true… picturing his slumbering body moving with on own accord without his mind being unaware. He shivered. The other theory that he had was that perhaps it was his suit… kinda like how the parachute burst open when he got too high in the air fighting the Vulture - was his escape from the fire a defense mechanism in the suit? He'd have to ask Tony about that.

When he got to his apartment, he stuck the landing onto the side of the building and opened the window to his bedroom. He crawled in and pulled off his burnt mask. It smelled like soot and smoke. He laid it on his desk to look at later for repair and took off his suit.

He was about to go and take a shower when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned toward his bed, confused to see the notebook of his Spider-Man notes sitting on top of his bed rather than underneath the mattress where he normally kept it. He stepped forward to pick it up, frowning down at it. Was May going through his things? He set the notebook down for a second and shrugged on the nearest t-shirt that he could find before picking it up again. He went for his bedroom door, still looking down at the notebook, puzzled.

"Hey May?" Peter asked as he walked out of the bedroom and into the hall, "Do you know why- MAY!"

In the far corner of the living room, his Aunt May sat huddled in a corner tied up tight by a long rope. Her mouth was gagged and taped shut. She had tears in her eyes as she looked up at him desperately. Throwing his notebook to the floor, Peter ran to her, his hands hovering over her mouth.

"Oh God, May!" Peter exclaimed, pain laced through his voice. "Sorry, this will probably hurt…"

As he said it, he tried to carefully extract the duct tape that was covering her mouth. She still winced as the adhesive pulled at her skin. As soon as he freed her mouth, she spit out the piece of cloth that had been forced into her mouth.

"Who did this to you?" Peter asked as his hands worked at tearing apart the ropes that were wrapped around her torso and arms. In truth, it wasn't difficult to tear through the thickness of it with his bare hands in the quiet rage that he felt brewing underneath his skin. Who would dare do this to Aunt May? Peter was seething. His vision was red. He wanted to punch something.

"A man…" May said shakily as he finally freed her hands and started working on the bonds around her feet. "He was in the apartment. He could change his form into sand-"

"Marko…" Peter hissed. A part of him had been feeling a bit guilty at the consequences of turning the Sandman into glass but now he had no such qualms. He was glad that the bastard was now a statue.

May nodded as he finally freed her legs and stood to help her onto her unsteady feet. "He was looking for you, Peter. He- Oh God. He said that he was going to kill you. I was sitting here this entire time thinking the worst and- I'm so glad you're alive!"

She clung to him then and he held her close as she sobbed into his chest, being a steady anchor to help keep her upright.

"You don't have to worry, May," Peter said in a consoling voice as he rubbed her back in a soothing manner, "I beat him. He's not going to be bothering us again."

She let out a shaky breath and nodded against his chest. "How did he even know to come here?"

Peter paused, remembering the panic that he felt when Flint Marko had found him at the party… calling him by real name. "He somehow found out my identity. I'm not sure how… I've been so careful since the Vulture."

May pulled back from his tight embrace and reached up to cup his cheek. "Maybe it's time to consider hanging up the webs for a while, Pete."

Peter stared at her. He could see the fear brewing in her eyes. Fear for him. Of course, this wasn't about her being concerned about her own safety at all… she was too selfless and giving for that. So, it was with great hesitation that he replied, "I can't do that, May."

She flinched slightly before continuing to push, "I'm not saying for forever, honey. Just until things start to die down a bit. Maybe you can pick it up again once you go to college? Or maybe even after that. We can even talk to Tony about some extra training for you-"

"I don't need training," Peter argued, with a bit of that teenage defiance poking its ugly head, "And I can't stop saving people, May. I just can't."

Her gaze back was hard and imploring. "But why?"

Peter sighed and closed his eyes. This was so painful for him to think about. It was only recently that he regained the memory of the actual truth regarding Uncle Ben's death… that it was his fault. That Peter could have done something to prevent it but actively chose to look the other way. He couldn't look the other way again. The risk of losing the life of another innocent when he could have saved them was too much to bear.

"The day that Uncle Ben died he told me something. Something important," Peter began softly before he slowly opened his eyes and stared deeply into hers. Tears started to well in her wide gaze at the mention of her dead husband. "At the time, I brushed him off. I was so stupid, May. It was one of the last times I talked to him and I pushed him away. I'm so ashamed-"

He choked off with a shuddering intake of breath. May reached forward and took both of his hands in hers, tears running steadily down her cheeks now. His own eyes burned as he turned his head away. He couldn't look her in the eye right now. It was too painful. He swallowed against the lump that formed in his throat and forced the words to pass his lips. May needed to hear this. She needed to understand why he needed to keep being Spider-Man. Even if it was painful for him to reveal this shameful secret to her.

"One of the last things that he told me was, 'With great power, there must also come great responsibility'. I was so angry at the time that I walked away. But then he died… and-" Peter cut off with a sob. "May, it was all my fault! I had my powers at the time. I could've stopped him!"

"Peter… what are you saying?"

Another sob escaped him as he hung his head in shame. "The man that killed Uncle Ben- earlier in the night, I could've stopped him. He robbed a convenience store right in front of me. I was mad at the worker because he was a bit of a jerk to me. I wanted some revenge. I thought that he deserved it. Plus, I figured that the store had insurance for this very reason. I looked the other way… and because of that- Uncle Ben-"

Tears were coming down hard from his eyes. He could barely breathe. What must she think of him?

"Oh, Peter…" Aunt May breathed. Before she reached forward and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. He sobbed into her hair, clutching desperately at the shirt on her back. "Have you been holding in this guilt all this time?"

He nodded against her, trying to calm his breathing. "Why don't you hate me right now? It's all my fault. If it weren't for me, Uncle Ben would be with us right now."

Aunt May pulled away to look sternly into his eyes. "No." She said, her voice firm. "Your Uncle Ben's death is not your fault. How could you have known that was going to happen? The real person responsible is the man who shot him."

"But-"

"No." She said firmly once again, her voice bridging no argument. "I refuse to allow you to shoulder this guilt for a moment longer. Your Uncle Ben loved you. And I know that he wouldn't want you to live another moment blaming yourself for what happened to him."

Peter looked down but May put her fingers under his chin and forced him to look into her eyes again. He let out a shaky sigh and gave a small nod.

May then closed her eyes and released a heavy breath. Then she opened them, her gaze softer now. "But I see what you're saying… Ben was always the wise one in our relationship while I was the free-spirit. If he knew about your powers and all that you've done with them since then, he would be so proud of you."

More tears escaped his eyes. They were the words he hadn't realized that he needed to hear. A lightness filled his chest that he hadn't felt for a long time - not since Uncle Ben's death. She wiped away his tears for him. "I am so proud of you."

Peter pulled her in a tight embrace, where he held on tightly, like a drowning man clutching to a life preserver.

…

It was hours later, at one in the morning, where Peter still lay awake. His mind was bustling. Aunt May… Mary Jane… Harry… so much has happened to them tonight and he wasn't able to prevent any of it.

He kept over-analyzing every detail, trying to think about what different choices he could have made, when his phone started to ring. He glanced over at where it was plugged in on his nightstand before he reached out to grab it.

The name 'Tony' flashed up on the screen at him.

Peter sighed. Happy did warn him that the call was coming… He'd best get it over with now. He pressed the accept button and put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"I hear that congratulations are in order?" Tony greeted. Peter could hear the wide grin in his voice. Also a level of pride. Peter relaxed slightly, even giving a small smile in reaction to it.

"Happy told you?"

"Well, he left out all of the sordid details…" Tony muttered, a curious lilt to his tone.

Peter smirked. "So you decided to call just so that you could get all of the juicy gossip like some sort of suburban, nosy neighbor?"

Tony released a laugh and Peter lightened a bit at the sound of it. Why had he been dreading this call, exactly? "Brat."

Peter chuckled. "Hey, now… you want to hear what happened or not?"

"Dish."

So Peter told him, relaying all of the details as best as he could remember them. There were some parts where he hesitated, hating to relive certain memories of the night, but he trudged through it. His desire for Tony to know the whole picture out-weighing his hesitancy.

"Sorry, Kid," Tony said, a musing tone to his voice, "It must have been your spider-sense that got you out of the building. Because it wasn't anything that I built in the suit."

"Interesting…" And creepy.

"It actually is," Tony supplied, hearing the slight revulsion in Peter's voice at the thought of his body moving around like some lifeless puppet. Peter decided to change the subject.

"Did Mark Watson and Flint Marko get picked up from Harry's house?" He asked, needing it confirmed for his own peace of mind.

"Oh yes," Tony said, with that hint of pride creeping back into his voice. Something inside of Peter glowed at the unspoken praise. "Interesting case about Marko… it was smart of you to use both of their strengths against the other. Turning a Sandman into glass? Brilliant. But just so you know… they analyzed Marko at the Raft prison. They think that he's still alive."

"WHAT?!" Peter exclaimed before he winced and looked over at his closed door. Aunt May already had a rough night. He hoped that he didn't just wake her when she needed her rest. "H-How is that even possible? He turned into a statue!"

"The theory is that the Sandman doesn't need any of the basic functions to keep on living… eating, sleeping, drinking, and also breathing?" Tony's voice sounded fascinated but Peter felt sick to his stomach.

"There isn't a chance that he will regain his mobility, will he?" He asked, his voice conveying that he was dreading the worst.

"I don't think that will be something we'll have to worry about," Tony supplied, his voice reassuring, "The scientists at the Raft are already looking into ways to turn him back to normal, and then I'll personally ensure that he will be locked away for life."

Peter released the breath that he had been holding. He didn't think that he could handle it if Flint Marko walked the streets again, where he knew his identity and could go after Aunt May again…

"So…? How was the date?" Tony mused, a smile to his voice again. Peter groaned. Happy told him about that too? Were no secrets in his life sacred?

"It wasn't a date," Peter protested, "She was just helping me out with a bet. And besides, if it was a date, then I could safely say that it ended as a disaster. Do you really think that being a victim of smoke inhalation would get Mary Jane all hot and bothered for me?"

There was a chuckle in Tony's voice as he responded, "Well, in one way, yes. She did get all hot and bothered from the smok-"

"I'm hanging up now."

"Wait! Wait, I'm sorry. You just set yourself up for that one." Tony said, but his voice said that he wasn't sorry at all. Peter sighed and decided to redirect the topic once again. He didn't want to talk about Mary Jane right now.

"Any luck in China?"

He heard a long and heavy sigh in response that had Peter a bit worried for a moment. "No luck yet. Just a bunch of the gang members - low tier, bottom of the totem pole types. But no sign of the real deal. I'm starting to think that the Mandarin is a myth they tell to keep the thugs in line…"

"So will General Ross let you come home then?" Peter asked, hope in his voice. He missed Tony. He helped it seem like all impossible situations were suddenly possible.

Another heavy sigh met Peter's ears and with it came bitter disappointment. "No green light yet, Kid. I almost wonder that Ross sent me to China just so that he could get a break from me for a bit. I tend to run him up a wall, you know."

Peter chuckled. "But being irritating is one of your most endearing qualities."

"See? Someone finally gets it!" Tony laughed, before a voice in the background distracted him and Peter could hear a muffled conversation between Tony and someone else from the other line. When Tony reappeared, he sighed again, "I've got to go, Kid. Congrats again on your victory. Make sure you go take that victory lap around the city and bask in it. You're a real hero."

A lump grew in Peter's throat at the praise. "T-Thanks, Mr. Stark. Good luck with everything over there."

"Thanks, Kid. Hope to be home soon."

And with that, the line ended and Peter forced himself to fall into an uneasy sleep.

….

The dots were slowly starting to connect in Mary Jane's mind… and with it, a lot of the shock that she felt was starting to melt away.

She was currently sitting outside on the balcony in their temporary apartment. She had slept for a very long time. All of Friday night and most of the day on Saturday, not even opening her eyes until the evening hour was upon them. As soon as she had taken a shower, eaten, and used the bathroom, she ventured out here. To get away from her Aunt Anna's worried eyes - and also as an isolated place for her to think… The more that she reflected on the entirety of her history with Peter and Spider-Man, the more that things started clicking into place.

For example, Spider-Man said that he used to wear glasses, and so did Peter. When Peter had told her that minor detail of his life, she had assumed that he now wore contact lenses or something - not that his eyesight had been genetically enhanced by a spider-bite. But she could hardly blame herself for not making that leap.

And then there was the comment that Mr. Hogan had made when he had been driving her home from the airport - about how he drove Spider-Man around in his true identity. And then, not even a week later, Peter reveals to her that he knows Mr. Hogan. She didn't even question why a simple intern would get to know Spider-Man's personal driver at the time.

Wait. The Stark internship… how could she have just brushed off the fact that Tony Stark made a personal call to a lowly intern's apartment? Just to drop off a project that could have been couriered over to his address? She blushed at the reminder of what she had said to Mr. Stark that day… asking him to set up a meeting between her and Spider-Man. She remembered the look on Mr. Stark's face when she had asked. He was barely keeping in his laughter.

Gosh, she was so embarrassed…

In fact, the entire familiarity between Peter and Mr. Stark should have set off the alarm bells in her mind. Especially since she knew that Spider-Man and Mr. Stark had a very similar bond.

Her mind shifted as she suddenly remembered the punch that Peter had set to her father's jaw - on the day that he had been helping her to move. To think that she had once thought Peter to be weak and unassuming. And there he was, openly displaying his strength right in front of her.

That also explained how Spider-Man even knew who her dad was when he had come across him breaking into her Aunt Anna's apartment. She hadn't thought to question that, either. Spider-Man hadn't ever met her dad before that instance, or even seen a picture of him. How would he have known that it was her dad after seeing him for the first time?

Not to mention that Peter somehow already knew all of the details surrounding her father turning into the Molten Man without Mary Jane having to explain any of it to him…

There were also little things too, like the fact that Spider-Man expressed an interest in science and Peter was a wiz at a science academy.

And Spider-Man had jokingly said that if he were to ever rob a place, it would be a Gamestop, while Peter loved playing video games with Ned and Harry.

There was also the way that both Spider-Man and Peter spoke. The mannerisms in which they both talked animatedly with their hands.

Both of their hugs felt the same too - strong, tight arms holding her close. To think that she just skimmed over her Aunt Anna's comments on how not long ago, Peter had been scrawny before her aunt had asked him if he had been working out.

The flip that he did to avoid the ricocheting bottle cap that first night that she came over to his apartment also came to mind. He had been so acrobatic until he toppled over to the floor. Had he realized his error then and deliberately fallen to the ground?

Both of their ages aligned after Spider-Man confirmed her suspicions that he was around her age.

The signs were really all there! Right in front of her face. She had just been too blind to see it. But then, she had come to find that when it came to Peter Parker, she was virtually clueless in trying to figure him out.

A memory flashed in her mind of the day that she met him as Peter Parker for the first time. When he had opened the door and saw her standing there, he had gaped at her with wide eyes and wouldn't stop staring. She had mistakenly assumed that he was just like every other guy who drooled after her which is what sparked her teasing comment about him hitting the jackpot… she groaned at the now embarrassing memory. He hadn't been gaping to ogle at her. Not at all. He had just been shocked to see her again so soon after brushing her off as Spider-Man earlier about potentially never seeing one another again.

And here she thought that she had been rejected by two different guys, when really, she had been rejected by the same guy twice…

Mary Jane slumped, her eyes drifting over to the spot where she confessed her feelings toward Spider-Man on this very balcony and where he had soundly refused her. His rejection was taking on a whole new light when she added the aspect of Peter to it…

Peter had outright told her that he wanted to be friends. It was obvious to her now that he had just been trying to let her down easy as Spider-Man when he told her that he just needed time to think.

Mary Jane bowed her head and covered her face with her hands, trying not to get emotional. She hated the fact that she was constantly crying these days. She hated to cry. She rarely ever did it before. She was Mary Jane Watson, dammit.

Mary Jane froze. Lifted her head and blinked. She was Mary Jane Watson. Being a sobbing mess of a girl and bending over backwards just accepting things as though they were out of her control just wasn't her style. Not at all…

"I make my own fate, remember?" She asked herself as a slow grin started to formulate on her features.

Peter may have told her that he wanted to be friends. Spider-Man may have told her that he needed time while actually rejecting her…

But Mary Jane was nothing if not patient. And she could be very persuasive if need be. She couldn't do anything about his Spider-Man persona - she could only guess at when she would see Peter dressed up like that again. But Peter? She could try and change his mind. Show them that they could be good together if he only gave them a shot. She really didn't have much to lose. In the end, it was up to Peter on whether he wanted to be with her or not. But that didn't mean that Mary Jane wouldn't use all of the tools in her utility belt to show him exactly what it was that he was missing.

"Hold on, Peter Parker… because I'm coming for you."

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A/N: Yeah, girl! Go get your man!

Please leave me a comment/review! Thanks so much for reading. 3

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