Spiderman: Finding Home

Chapter 9: Peter

Authors Note:

Hey guys, definitely want to give a major trigger warning for descriptive writing of sexual assault, rape, abuse and addiction. Please know your triggers and take care of yourself x

Love to you all. 

___________________________________________________

Peter's POV

Peter's mind had gone blank as he watched Michelle, MJ, burst into tears that had his chest feeling like it was being torn apart. Michelle barely showed emotion ever. Everything just always appeared to be so in control and it was almost like she was above such petty peasant things like feelings.

But here they were.

MJ, his friend and his own comfort, was crying her eyes out right in front of him, and they weren't small tears. They were long, painful sobs that had her body shaking. He hesitated only momentarily before placing his hand on her back and began to rub small circles. He didn't fully know what this was about but he knew they were in it for the long run and dammit, he was going to stay with her every step of them.

As Michelle cried and cried and cried, Peter glanced around the room. It was small, barely fitting a desk and chair plus her bed and there was a cupboard in the corner. He noticed a door near the cupboard that was open, leading to a bathroom. He noticed that despite the piles of books stacked up on the floors and over the desk and cupboard, that there wasn't much personality here. MJ might say that her personality was being a reader but there was more to her, he knew. The walls were a bland cream colour and her comforter and sheets were various shades of grey. It made him feel sad. Especially right now, she deserved as a room that felt like a home. This one felt like a prison to him.

"It hurts so so much," MJ choked out and he to stop himself for pulling her to him. He felt useless right now. His hand was still rubbing gentle, slow circles but he wanted to do more. He wanted to take that pain for her.

"Do what you would want someone to do for you," his brain prompted and he quickly thought back to instances he had cried to Aunt May when the pain of reality was just to much. She would make him a hot drink, sit with him on the couch and pull him into her side, playing with his hair as she ran her fingers through her hair and his tears soaked the shoulder of her shirt. She would be silent, except for the occasional soothing comment.

"I'm here." "I've got you." and the simplest but the most encouraging statement that reminded him he wasn't alone in his pain, "I know."

He whispered those words to MJ with barely any thought.

As she continued to cry, he said everything he could think to say, gently and quietly so just to be a calming presence and to remind her that she wasn't alone. Whatever this was, whatever had caused her to feel like this, it had to be big. Very big and ugly and messy and painful.

His eyes landed on the one photo in the room he could see. It was pinned right above her bed and it showed a junior Michelle, hugging a woman who must be her mum tightly in the dress she wore to homecoming. She was smiling broadly, and the mother was grinning as well. His mind snagged on the comment she had made today, about her mother being a drug addict and his mind began to slot the information together. The photo was taken before Homecoming and Homecoming was before the Blip. She had mentioned one night that her mother didn't disappear like she had and they didn't really speak about how awful that must have been for her mum and for MJ when they returned five years later. What had happened in those five years? In the photo, her mother definitely did not look like an addict and he supposed that maybe she really had been joking, but as his eyes returned to her occasionally shuddering frame, he wasn't so sure.