Tucked Away
It's not every day a lady comes knocking at the door early in the morning.
"You're Spider-Man!" she exclaims, eyes wide, face just visible through the slit in the narrow door opening.
A lot of introspection has led to Peter believing that if he denies what she just claimed he might instead prove her right. Someone who isn't Spider-Man would gladly agree and play along.
So he says as he opens the door wider, "Yeah, of course I am! Would you like me to show you some tricks?" and hopes he hasn't already given too much away. So far he has done a good job of hiding his secret identity, but he's not used to denying it when asked.
The lady marches in like she has known the place for years, dark wavy hair bouncing behind her. She's got a checkered trench coat atop a black shirt, faded blue jeans and thick black boots, but that's the least of Peter's worries.
"Do I know you?" he asks. "I feel like I've seen you somewhere."
"Yeah." She walks over to a window, parts the curtains and stomps over to his bed, boots thudding along, and pulls at the blanket and the pillows. "I'm the fairy godmother from your dreams last night."
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"Waking you up."
"You already woke me up. Did you really have to knock that loud?"
She doesn't answer, just continues to stack the contents of his bed onto the trunk.
Peter clears his throat. "Why do you think I'm Spider-Man?"
She stops to look up at him. "I don't think you're Spider-Man. I know it."
"But what makes you think so?"
"Nothing makes me think so. I know so."
He sighs. "Why do you believe I am Spider-Man?"
She shrugs and slumps onto his bed. "The fact that you keep asking me about it? Someone who isn't would be quite amused and would try to climb a wall before me. For humor's sake. You, on the other hand, look worried. Rather than 'why', you keep asking 'how' I know you're Spider-Man." She clicks her tongue. "Bad move."
Peter forces a laugh. "That's ridiculous. Doesn't mean I'm Spider-Man."
She smirks. "Then go ahead. Climb a wall. Fall down. Break a leg."
Peter doesn't move or say anything. Just stares at her.
"I'm a detective by the way," she says, checking her nails, "in case you're curious."
"Oh really?" Peter walks over to the door and shuts it. "Then please solve the mystery as to who you really are, great lady. I'm sure it'll be quite elementary."
"I'm the reason you're still sleeping on this bed and living in this room."
"You're Kate Bishop?"
"Nice to meet you. I meant it sarcastically."
"Okay look," Peter says, hands raised to the sides, "I never asked anyone to pay my dues. I don't know what got into your head that you even paid a month's extra. I don't even know you. Personally."
"Uh huh? Excuse me? Thank you, Kate. You're welcome, Peter Parker? I paid your rent because you haven't and you're hardly home and a nice young lady called Michelle Jones who you keep avoiding has been frantically searching for you for over a year." Then she adds quietly, "And who keeps filling up my call logs."
A cold air rushes through him. "You know Michelle? She's looking for me?"
"Oh don't you go acting so surprised," Kate says rolling her eyes. "Where do you keep disappearing anyway?"
"I don't know. I mean, I've got work."
Kate leans forward on a knee, chin resting on her fist. "What work really? Those scars on your neck. They look deep. Someone clawed at you? You go to fight cats?"
"Photography work," Peter says ignoring her other comment and then adds with a wince, "I click pictures of Spider-Man."
"Uh-huh. Betty Brant says you're one of the best. The only one, in fact, who can take clear good shots of the Web-Head."
"Give me a break, now you know Betty Brant too?"
"Those shots. I think Betty's right. I've seen those. Solid pictures. I mean, the height and the weird angles you must have to go to! And falling from that height? You're likely to say goodbye before you even hit the ground. I guess the safest bet is when Spidey clicks them himself."
"You mean selfies?"
"Yeah, of course! Selfie. That's the word of the decade isn't it?"
"Miss Bishop," Peter says as he walks over to the door. "I'm grateful for your generosity." He opens it and steps aside, making way for her. "I'll make sure to pay you back. Over the next four months or so. But you can leave now. And I'm no Spider-Man."
"You know that's really weird," she says as she slowly makes her way towards him. "Happy Hogan said he used to be in love with Spider-Man's aunt. That's the only lady he's ever loved in a while. Still visits her grave. And the tombstone says her name's May Parker. Last I checked, she worked in the city's shelter for the homeless, and looked exactly like that." Kate points to the framed photograph on Peter's desk. Then she slams the door shut. "I'm not going anywhere."
Peter looks from her to the photograph of his late aunt, and back at Kate. He goes and picks up the picture where May beams at him wearing a jeans and purple sweatshirt. His breath hitches looking at it because she stands a little too much to the left, as if clicked by an inexperienced photographer. The truth, however, is that she hadn't been alone in there.
Peter had been standing beside her.
When Stephen Strange cast the forgetting spell, it erased not only everyone's memories of Peter but also every proof of his existence, including certificates and of course, photographs.
"I'm sorry," Kate Bishop says from behind. "I shouldn't have said it like that."
Peter turns around. "Why are you doing this?"
"I don't mean to offend you. I just had to know where you keep going. Because right now that's my job. All MJ wants is to apologize."
"What for?"
"All that ruckus in her donut house?"
"But I don't think any of it was her fault."
"Then why stop going there?"
"I had to."
"You're not telling me something."
"I never told you anything."
"Because her craze in looking for you is like a fever, the way she even ignores Alex-"
"Who's Alex?"
Kate's face turns from grave to gleeful and seeing that Peter's heart does a flip-flop. "Her boyfriend."
"Oh. Yeah. Of course. Good for her."
"Why? I never asked your opinion. You care?"
Peter shakes his head. "Jeez."
Kate drops onto his bed and the springs creak. She takes off her boots and sits crossed-legged. Like she owns the place. Which she actually does at the moment. "I'm here as long as you like."
Peter is tempted to tell her he doesn't like her here one bit, at least right now, but he refrains from doing so.
"Come on. I'm waiting to hear your story. A little therapy could help."
"Which part?"
"The entire thing."
"My jaws will go stiff."
She grins. "Not a problem."
~#~#~
"...I made the mistake of going back to her store somewhere in February," Peter says, "almost daily. Then one day she must have had a pretty bad day at school, because Michelle doesn't burst out like that so easy. I somehow blew my cover, she got angry and the rest is history."
"And so you stopped going there?" Kate asks.
"Yes."
"Because you were humiliated?"
"More so because I realized what I was doing wrong. I helped take away her memories, I broke my promise of reminding her and here I was, still hoping she'd talk to me the way she used to. I was being selfish. That was my mistake. I couldn't get too close again."
"But why not?"
Peter makes a straight face. "What have I been telling you all along?"
"No I just don't get it," Kate replies, shaking her head and sitting up on her knees. "Say again. Why?"
"Because I'm Spider-Man that's why. If my enemies knew what if they'd want to get to me through them? And you know Ned and MJ. If I ever told them, they'd want to take part in. So they're safe like this."
"Oh come on!" Kate whines, standing up on the bed and then leaping off. "That's absolutely the lamest excuse I've heard in my entire long life!"
"How old are you? Thirty?"
Her mouth drops open. "'Thirty'? What are you, blind? Do I look that old to you? I'm twenty-four."
Peter sneers. "And you call that 'long life'?"
"Yes. I didn't blip, okay? Seen a lot of things. Lost a lot of people. People I called friends."
"And I have lost everyone. Because of me."
"What do you mean?"
"Look at that picture," Peter snaps. "My aunt May's dead, MJ and Ned almost lost their careers. All because of me, I told you! They could have died. Why else do you think I'm keeping away? They're living their perfect lives right now. You know, going to MIT? Her having a guy?" He stops to catch his breath and continues in an undertone. "Why should I go and ruin it all over again for them?"
"They're not having their perfect lives," Kate says carefully. "Trust me. I don't think she even likes Alex. If she does, she won't call asking about you a dozen times a day only to be ignored. There's such a thing as pride, and I don't think MJ's someone who'll let go of it. But she does. For you. Knowingly or unknowingly."
Regrets, or None
"Damn you," Kate complains. "Damn you damn you damn you."
"What's wrong?" Peter asks, climbing into her apartment through a window.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Kate grumbles. Then she turns to face him. "Your former girlfriend won't stop calling. What should I do?"
"Leave it," Peter says defeatedly. "You're doing a great job at it."
She looks from him to her phone, and back to him. She squints. "Now what's wrong with you? You do realize anyone out on the street will think Spider-Man just crawled into my apartment."
"You call this an apartment?" Peter says taking off his mask. "Looks more like a hideout to me. A safe house, like those in the Need for Speed games. Oh and you have a dog. Why am I not surprised?" Looking at her dumbstruck face somehow makes him chuckle. "Relax. No one was watching."
She's about to say something, then shrugs it off. "Yeah but what's wrong with you now? Why do you suddenly sound so fretful?"
"One heck of a boyfriend that Alex. Just met him."
"Oh." She pushes out of her chair at the dinner table where she's feeding her dog and rushes over to him, turns a sofa to face him and sits down. "What happened?"
Peter tells her what happened at the rooftop of his apartment building. A fuming Kate, after listening to him, pulls out her phone and dials a number.
"Who are you ringing?" Peter whispers.
"Michelle Jones Watson," she whispers back, covering the speaker with her hand.
In horror he rises to snatch away her phone but she nudges him back to his chair with her foot.
Kate puts the phone on speaker. "You're in love with him aren't you?"
~#~#~
"You really had to do that?" Peter asks.
"Yes. And I'm done with you too."
"Why are you always so hyper? Like a truck engine about to explode."
"What?" She springs off her seat. "Me? Hyper? What do you mean hyper? Read the dictionary again. Why are you always such a wuss? You could simply go and meet her. You needn't tell everything. But you won't even do that. You get a thrill out of avoiding her?"
"If I show myself she'll want to know more."
"She's a smart girl, Parker. I'm sure she's already figured you're Spider-Man, just like she did the first time. Tomorrow she leaves. So if you don't show yourself tonight you'll regret it later."
"But I already did!"
"She didn't know it was you."
With a sigh Peter leans back and covers his eyes with his hands.
Onward, Little by Little
"That wound looks deep," Kate says, examining Peter's bare back. "What was that?"
"One of his mechanized paws I guess," Peter answers and shivers as Kate runs her hand over the inch-long cut. "It'll heal. I heal faster than normal people."
"Whatever. Did you apply disinfectant? If you want I've got some. Clint gave them to me."
"Sometimes I forget you're Hawkeye." He picks up his rolled shirt from the bed and pulls it over his head. "Yeah I've cleaned it. Thanks."
"That's a nice build you got there," Kate mumbles.
Peter smiles. "What's that? Kate Bishop, are you being shy?"
She frowns and looks away. Today Peter has the curtains already parted. "Shut up. Do not call me by my entire name. It sounds weird."
Peter's grin grows wider. "Kate. Bishop. What's Kate short for? Katelyn?"
"Katherine," she corrects.
"So Kathrine Bishop."
"Katherine Elizabeth Bishop," she says, playing with a loose thread she found somewhere. "My Dad used to call me Katie."
"Yeah?" Peter sits down beside her. "I never knew my Dad. Or my Mom."
"Not that bad." Her voice is husky. She clears her throat. "You get to paint them in your head the way you want. And you don't have to know the mistakes they made, even if they did for you."
An uneasy silence ensues for a while. It's the first time Peter has ever witnessed her this quiet.
"Hey Kate?" he nudges her. "Michelle knows."
"Yeah."
"You told her?"
"Not exactly. But I found your speech and gave it to her. Where you wanted to explain everything."
"Okay."
"Are you mad at me?"
Peter shakes his head. "Nah. I'm glad you did. Look, she gave me this." He hands her the note from MJ that came attached with the hot water flask and the empty paper cup.
"'Peter Parker your coffee'," Kate reads aloud. "'Take it before it gets cold. PS: Boh is my new superpower. What about yours?' What are you gonna do about it?"
"I think I'm gonna take it before it gets cold."
"I'm sorry I was so pressing earlier," she says in a whisper.
"Pressing?"
"Like I tried forcing you to go talk to her, and I may have been a little hard on her too. Now I just feel awful."
"I think you've got this strong sense of empathy. And that's really good. It's missing in people these days."
The corners of her lips curl up faintly. "Thanks." Then after a pause, she says, "I've made some difficult choices too. But I felt they were the right ones."
"Yeah," Peter agrees. "I know."
"So what now?"
He finds her gazing at him. He stares back at those blue eyes, curls of hair reaching down the sides of her face. She has a nice neck and the way her hair brushes the nape when she turns around-
Fingers snap before his eyes.
"Hello?" she calls. "Earth to Peter? I asked 'what' next. Not 'who' next."
"You don't pull back from speaking your mind do you?"
"Nope." She stands and collects her sling-bag. "I consider it a gift. I'm older than you by the way."
"So?"
"Just saying."
"You didn't blip that's why and if I hadn't either," Peter says pushing himself off his bed, "I'd be the same age as you. Maybe even older."
"Yeah but you blipped."
"Really? So what if I'm younger?"
"Nothing." At the doorway she stops and turns around. "You coming? Or what?"
"Yeah okay," Peter answers as he turns his pillow upside-down, hiding the patch of fabric drenched in tears.
"You know there's a cat burglar in town," Kate says as they climb down the stairs. "Though I think she's as old as me. Maybe older."
"Oh, that's alright."