"Don't…don't do that."

He was hunched over an unconscious Shocker, clearly struggling to stand on shaking legs. His face was bloody and his suit was in tatters, showing several deep purple blotches underneath. His fist was drawn back but he'd held it in place upon hearing her voice. She felt a tightness in her stomach at the sight of him.

She wanted to reach out and feel him. It took a lot to settle for a hand on his less-damaged shoulder.

Peter dropped Shocker to the floor and looked away. "I wasn't going to," he murmured, as if he needed to make sure she knew. Almost immediately, he collapsed under his own weight, dropping to his knees and desperately struggling to keep himself up. Kitty dropped down after him, still fighting the overwhelming urge to hold him the way she wanted to. "How'd you find me?"

"That would be Mary Jane Watson, investigative reporter," Kitty grumbled as emotionlessly as possible. "Here, put this on, we're not alone."

She slid him his mask and felt her brows furrow up at the sight of him sliding it on with a groan. When the doors slid open, she helped him up and started to lead him to the exit. "Th-ngh-thank y-you…"

"Don't talk," she whispered, keeping her voice low to mask any unwanted desires, if not from him then from herself. He weighed on her shoulder more than she expected him to, throwing her off balance. His voice was frail, obviously forced through strained vocal chords. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't scared, despite how hard she was trying to convince herself not to be. "Just stay awake."

"'M sor-kof-sorry," he barely managed to get out between anguished pants. Kitty felt her breath tremble, and she knew he felt it, too.

"I know."

She wanted to tear his mask off. She wanted to hug him, feel his hair between her fingers, hold him the way she used to. But she knew it was wrong. He wasn't hers anymore. She couldn't keep him anymore.

Kitty propped him up and helped him out, an unsavory numbness in her chest haunting her all the way home.