A/N: Couple things to note on this one. This happens during the events of Homecoming, but in an AU where Tony Stark never approached Peter. The events of Civil War don't really have any effect on this story, so it's irrelevant whether or not it happened without Peter. I also play fast and loose with the timeline of Homecoming, some things happen out of order or just differently than in the movie. Should be easy enough to follow, but I just wanted to call it out before I get comments questioning it.
Also, because Tony never made Peter a suit, and because I don't want him running around in pajamas, assume that Peter actually put some effort into making himself a suit that is more akin to the typical Spider-Man suit, like what you see in the previous Spider-Man movies.
Dedicated in loving memory to Maggie.
Spider Got Your Tongue?
Peter hasn't spoken a word aloud since the night his parents died. At first his silence was attributed to the damage he'd done to his throat screaming from the backseat of the car. It was winter, and they were driving late at night on a rural highway. Peter never saw what happened; he'd been dozing in the backseat when the car jerked, waking him up. Before he knew what was even happening, they were skidding off road. And then the crash.
He was later told his parents died almost instantly. He was barely hurt. Some minor abrasions and whiplash, but the way the car compacted had left him trapped in the backseat for hours before someone finally noticed the crash and called it in. They'd needed the jaws of life to get him out. He'd been stuck in that car for hours with the remains of his parents, trapped, screaming bloody murder for somebody, anybody to help.
His screams were long since silent by the time help arrived. His last words were left unheard.
It was a rough adjustment. Not only was he moving in with his aunt and uncle whom he normally only saw a few times a year, but he was also suddenly without a voice. Without any way to communicate. They all learned ASL together. It was a struggle, but they managed.
School was even worse. He had to go to a new school after he moved in with his aunt and uncle, and his teachers and peers were not the most understanding of his situation. Especially his peers. Save for one. Ned was a lifesaver. Not only did he not blink twice at the new kid who was both mute and perpetually depressed - Ned knew a bit of sign language already due to his deaf cousin.
His life wasn't great, but he had his aunt and uncle, and he had Ned, and that was enough. He found a way to be content.
Then one day everything was different. His eyesight and his hearing started going nuts. He suddenly couldn't judge his own strength - he actually had strength that needed judging. He didn't know how to handle it. His aunt and uncle saw that something was wrong, but he didn't know how to explain, so he kept it all bottled inside, hiding in his room in the dark, headphones over his ears not even plugged into anything to dull his senses.
After a few days of this, his uncle coaxed him out of his cocoon and decided to take him for some ice cream. And then there was a man with a gun, demanding, and his uncle's voice, trying to reason, and a gunshot. Peter stood there, frozen as his uncle slipped down to the ground. He couldn't move as the man rushed forward, ignoring him as he started rifling in his uncle's pockets.
An all-consuming rage had suddenly suffused him, and he shoved the man harder than he even knew was possible. The man went flying over a dozen feet. Peter stood rooted in shock as the man's momentum carried him stumbling all the way into the street. Right into oncoming traffic.
But he barely registered that, his gaze focused on Uncle Ben, who shakily reached out towards him. He took Uncle Ben's hand and knelt down beside him, wishing desperately he could call for help. Or tell his uncle how much he loves him. Instead he just squeezed the hand.
The police found him there some time later, still clutching Uncle Ben's hand long after the man had passed. He later learned his uncle's killer had been clipped by a bus and suffered some minor wounds before he was arrested. It took time recovering from yet another loss for both him and his aunt. And it took time for him to grow accustomed to the acuity and sensitivity of his senses.
It took time for him to become Spider-Man, but become him he did. There was something about the suit and the mask that just set him free. He couldn't explain it. It had never been his intention. He'd put it on to help people - and he did - but it also seemed to help him just as much.
The first time he donned the suit and stopped a mugging, all the words in his head just started spilling out. He joked and jeered as he juked and jabbed, and it didn't stop there. Suddenly he had a voice, and he used it. He called quips to people as he swung by. He mocked and belittled the criminals he fought. He felt almost like an entirely different person. Or maybe like he'd just unearthed a part of himself that had been long buried.
Then he'd take the mask off, and he was back to being just the same old Peter. Whatever magic allowed him to be so open and free faded away. Back to struggling to make eye contact - unable to utter a word to anyone, even to himself. He couldn't explain it. The words were there in his head, but when he tried to speak, he just couldn't.
It's like he became two entirely different people in one body. Peter was quiet and studious and shy and anxious. Spider-Man was outgoing and confident and free. So it was no great surprise, as he was climbing a building to get up to the roof, that when he glanced over and saw someone reading one of his new, favorite books, he couldn't help but comment.
"Oh, I love that book - just read it a couple weeks ago. How far into it are you?"
He didn't even register anything about the person holding the book, so it came as a shock when the book lowered, and he found himself looking into a familiar face.
She stared at him levelly for a moment before remarking, "Just started." Then she raised the book back up, effectively ending the conversation. Or at least it would have had she spoken in such a way to Peter Parker.
"You are in for a treat," he couldn't help adding. "I'm Spider-Man, by the way."
She didn't even lower the book this time. Just casually tossed out, "Prove it."
He looked down at the street. He looked at the building his hands and feet were sticking to. He looked back at the girl who was now peering at him once again over her book with a self-satisfied half-smirk adorning her features.
"You're shitting me, right?"
"Everyone knows spiders have eight limbs," she stated, and her voice remained as impassive as ever. "Yet I see only four. Where are your other four limbs, Spider-Man?"
"Ok, you got me. I'm only Half-Spider-Man," he admitted. He blew out a loud breath. "Oh man, that's a huge weight off my chest. I've just been living this lie for so long, it feels so freeing to finally be open and true to myself. Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to come clean in such a safe space."
She snorted at him. "You're a dork." Then she went back to reading.
That time, he left her to it and resumed his trek back to the roof. He couldn't help glancing back at her one last time before he went over the lip of the building. He caught her watching him, but she casually went back to reading before he finally turned away.
Well no shit. He'd always liked Michelle - she was one of very few people that didn't treat him differently. Most of the other students treated him like he was either a freak or broken in some way. The former were just mean-spirited while the latter were often well-intentioned, but they honestly both made him feel like shit. Not Michelle though. That wasn't to say she was nice to him - she wasn't. But she wasn't nice to anyone. She was witty and acerbic and eager to tear down anyone and anything if given half a chance.
But she wasn't mean about it - although Ned didn't really agree with him on that. He found her scary. So did most of their peers for that matter. Peter just thought she was funny. And lonely - not that she seemed eager to rectify that.
He put her out of his mind and went back to patrolling. People to save. Pets to rescue. Old ladies to escort across dangerous crosswalks. Life is always busy for Spider-Man.
He saw her in school the next day with her head in the same book, and she was most of the way done. He felt a pang in his chest, wishing he could talk to her about it. He'd been trying to get Ned to read it ever since he'd finished, but it was an uphill battle. It wasn't really in Ned's niche, so while Ned had caved and promised to add it to his backlog, Peter wasn't overly optimistic his friend would read it any time soon.
Not that Peter could judge. They each had multiple things in their backlogs that the other had recommended. It was just that this book had really stuck with him, even now weeks later he still thought about it all the time. He practically ached to talk about it.
So he did. Out on patrol after school, he headed back to the same balcony, hoping she'd be there again. And as luck would have it, she was.
"Please tell me you finished it?" he said in lieu of a greeting as he came upon her reading a different book this time.
"Still haven't found your better half?" she inquired.
"Looking to fill the role?" he fired back. He could hardly believe he'd just said that to Michelle of all people.
She actually turned a bit pink, but gamely replied, "In your little half-spider dreams."
He clutched at his chest dramatically. "You wound me, fair maiden!"
"Fair maiden?" she asked skeptically, looking down at her arms. "Seriously?"
"Oof," he said, waving his hand back and forth in front of himself. "Wow. Ok. Touché. Yeah, I obviously did not think that one through. Let's try this again: You wound me, beautiful maiden!"
She rolled her eyes at him and arched her brow incredulously.
"What?" he asked. "You gonna sit there and tell me you don't know you're attractive?"
"You gonna hang there and pretend you don't know I'm jailbait?"
That startled a laugh out of him. "Not to me."
She actually sat up and stared at him, and he realized his words had gotten away from him. "Interesting. So you're either a pedophile-" he rolled his eyes, "-or you just admitted you're a minor." She stared at him for another moment before adding. "Do you think you're the world's only underaged superhero?"
Well this had taken a turn. "I honestly don't know how to answer that."
"Because you don't want to admit you're a minor?" she questioned. "Or because you don't care to comment on whether or not there might be another underaged superhero out there somewhere?"
"Definitely both," he said, nodding firmly. "And yes, this time I am aware of what I just gave away."
She smirked at him, seeming pleased with herself.
"Now that you've successfully extracted that little bit of information about me," he began, "-and kudos, by the way. As far as I know you're the first to learn anything meaningful about my real identity. Please tell me you finished the book?"
"I finished the book," she said.
He fist-pumped. "And? What did you think? Come on, dish with me. I've been dying for someone to talk to about it for weeks."
She stared him down for a solid minute, and he feared he wasn't going to get anything out of her. He was surprised at just how disappointed that made him. But then she suddenly cracked, and a beautiful smile lit up her face. "I absolutely loved it."
"Yes!" he cried, and did a flip off the wall, coming to land on the railing of her balcony.
She startled, half-rising and clutching her hand to her chest.
"Woah woah, sorry. Sorry," he said, holding his arms out apologetically. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Is it ok if I sit here while we talk?" He put action to his words and settled down, crossing his legs in a lotus position.
She stared at him dubiously for a long moment, and he feared he may have just fucked this all up. But then she settled back into her chair and said, "It's fine."
"Thanks!" he beamed at her. "Now tell me what you thought about…"
They talked for well over an hour. It might be the longest continuous conversation he's ever had with anyone. It was only when he heard the door to her apartment open and commented on it that she reluctantly rose and told him it was time for her to head in.
"I really enjoyed talking to you," he said, rising into a crouch. "Maybe we can do this again sometime?"
"You know where to find me, Half-Spider-Man."
He smiled and pointed at her. "See you soon then, Jailbait." Then he jumped off her balcony into a backflip before shooting a web up and swinging away.
He came back to see her again the next day - after having tracked down a copy of the book she had been reading.
"Wait, you seriously went out and bought a copy of it just because you saw me reading it yesterday?" she asked incredulously.
He shrugged from his perch on her railing. "I enjoyed talking with you yesterday and wanted to ensure I had something to talk to you about today. Plus, we seemed to love a lot of the same things about the last one, so I figured there's a good chance our tastes would align on this one as well."
"That was fiction; this is non-fiction," she exclaimed incredulously. "They're about as different as you can get."
He shrugged. "So? I assume you enjoy both?" She nodded. "So why assume I wouldn't?"
"And did you love this book?"
He waggled his head back and forth. "I wouldn't say I loved it, but I did find it interesting and thought-provoking."
"But I mean, it's about feminism and the fight against sexist discrimination in corporate America." She said it as if he should find the topic abhorrent.
"Yeah, and?" He shook his head at her. "It's honestly something I hadn't ever really thought about before. I mean, I guess I knew that things weren't really equal for men and women, but I hadn't realized the extent of the disparity. Even beyond the ridiculous wage-gap which I guess I kind of knew about, there's so much that women have to deal with that just hasn't ever even registered with me. Honestly, this book was eye opening in a big way for me."
She stared at him impassively for a long moment before a soft smile graced her lips. "You realize there's another chair right here," she said, nodding her head at the only other chair on the balcony. "Seems silly for you to sit up there."
He smiled widely at her - not that she could see it. "Thanks. My butt was not happy with me yesterday. Many unkind words were said."
"You could have said something, dork," she said with a snort.
"Yes, but I'm cognizant of the fact that I'm a relative stranger who approached you in what is ostensibly your home - not to mention the fact I'm wearing a mask. You seemed uncomfortable with my proximity yesterday, so I didn't want to impose or potentially scare you off." He explained all this while scampering off the railing and onto the weather-resistant patio seat. "Ah, so much better. Thank you."
"That's actually rather thoughtful of you. And perceptive."
"Gosh, JB," he said, fanning at his face. "You're making me blush."
"MJ," she said. "My friends call me MJ."
Was it possible for his grin to get any wider without splitting his face in half? He doubted it. "My friend calls me Half-Spider-Man."
She snorted at him. "So what, I'm your only friend?"
"I mean - yes?" He said, wondering at her surprise. "Is it that hard to believe? Not like I just stop off and talk away my afternoons with everyone I meet. I'm usually swinging from one thing to the next, stopping crimes, helping people out when they need it. Not usually time for more than a few words and then I likely never see them again."
"Well ok, sure, but you don't wear a mask all the time. You must have other friends and family," she insisted.
"Yes, of course," he agreed. "But you're the only one who is friends with Spider-Man. All they know is my other half."
"And here we go with your halves again." If he could stick his tongue out at her, he would. Instead he just held up his hands in a what-can-you-do gesture. "So no one in your life knows your secret identity?"
"Nope," he replied, popping the p sound. "And they would be absolutely shocked, let me tell you."
"I can imagine," she said.
"Can you?" he challenged. "I was just a regular kid until one day I wasn't. I've just been kind of figuring everything out since. I don't even know what caused all this." He gestured down at himself.
"Really?" she asked, sitting up and crossing her legs.
"Well, I have an assumption, but I don't know for sure, nor why it resulted in this," he said. "One morning I woke up and everything was crazy. I could suddenly hear everything going on all around me in the neighboring apartments and the ones neighboring those and outside and I became super photosensitive for a bit until my eyes settled. Then things just randomly started sticking to me, and I got super-jacked like almost overnight. It was crazy."
"And you hid it from your friends and family?"
He shrugged. "I've never been very good at talking about myself. Or talking in general, really."
"Now that I find hard to believe," she said.
He laughed. "Oh if only you knew. This," he waved at himself. "This me is very different. When I put on the suit and mask, I'm a different person. All the social anxiety and shyness and angst just fades away. I'm like a new person."
She frowned at him in thought. "What made you decide to do it? Put on the mask and go full on super hero?"
"Ah - that - uh - that might be a little too heavy to - ah," he stumbled over his words for perhaps the first time since he donned the mask.
"Don't force yourself, Spider-Dork," MJ interrupted. "You don't owe me your life story. You can just tell me you'd rather not talk about it."
"K. Thanks," he said, his face feeling warm beneath the mask. "Anyway, we got way off topic. I was curious what made you seek out this book in particular. Are you planning to go the corporate route? Or is it maybe about something a friend or family member is going through? Just general female solidarity?"
They spent the rest of the time until her mother arrived home discussing the book and its societal implications, and he was rapt the entire time. He liked Michelle. MJ. She was intelligent and insightful and witty and acerbic and hilarious and just fun. Before he left he asked what book was next, and she didn't even hesitate. And so he had his homework for the next meeting of their impromptu book club. He couldn't wait.
Unfortunately, he ended up missing her the next day. He got caught up chasing down a car that had come up on an amber alert. Some dad who'd just got out of prison decided he didn't want to wait to see his kid or even tell the mom. It turned into a whole big thing. Luckily the kid was never in danger - the dad seemed to genuinely care for them, despite the obvious mental health issues he was suffering under if he thought any of that was a good idea.
He told her all this the following day, but she just waved away his apologies. "I get it. If you came here and told me you let a child get kidnapped because you didn't want to miss me - I'd have called you an idiot and kicked you off my balcony."
"Like literally or figuratively?" he couldn't stop himself from asking. "Because I actually have been kicked off a balcony before."
"That doesn't even surprise me," she drily remarked.
"Hardy-har," he mocked. "But anyway, the kid was pretty shaken up, but was reunited with their mom. Dad's going back to prison - surprise surprise. By the time all that was done, it was already past time you'd gone in."
"I said it's fine, dork," MJ insisted.
"I know," he said quickly. "I just don't like the idea of letting you down. Sorry, I'll shut up now."
She rolled her eyes at him. "I'll believe that when I see it."
A/N: Have this thing mostly written and will try to get a chapter out every day or two. Please leave me a comment on what you think. I'd love to hear from you.