The Amazing Spider-Man - Love, MJ

XII

I hold my book up in front of my face. Yes, I did drop it on my face once, but it will not happen again. I flip the page right as a faint tapping noise overrides my faint music playing from my computer.

I look down from my book, spotting Peter I smile and shake my head. "Come in," I mumble and look back at the page I'm on as the window slowly slides open.

"You should think about entering through the lobby next time. Conserve that spider-energy." I tease playfully, flipping the page again—not an interesting enough book to sit and read through each chapter. I was just browsing through.

Peter's faint chuckle warms my stomach with a fluttery feeling. "Also, my mom is under the impression you need some psychiatric attention." I hum with a raised brow. I look away from the book as he comes into the room, a faint 'really' coming from him but thats not what I register. Theres blood on his chest. Theres fucking blood on his chest.

I spring up from my bed, book tossed somewhere onto the ground as I immediately rush to him. "Pete? What happened? Oh my god..." I plant my hands on his shoulder, looking over his face.

"You should see the other guy." He mumbles jokingly, shifting to fall down in a chair that was in front of him. "The other guy, in this instance, being a giant mutant lizard." He says, breathing slightly too heavy for comfort.

I sit in the space he left at the edge and look over his chest wounds, three large claw-lacerations. God, it was painful to even look at, I couldn't even imagine feeling them.

"Mija, do you want some cacao. Mama's making some chocolate caliente." Moms voice echoes from the hallway, I freeze up for a solid second. Peter staring at me and me staring at Peter. She'd rip me apart if she found me harboring not only a fugitive, but a boy fugitive in my bedroom.

"Fuck," I whisper and rush over to the door, opening it wide enough to look through and totally not look suspicious. She looks at me expectantly, arms crossed, and brow raised waiting for my response.

"No. Mom. I don't want hot chocolate. Honestly, I'm 17-years-old." I try to sound harsh, and by the look on her face it was enough.

"Didn't somebody boast about how she wanted to live in a chocolate house last week?" She tries to tease playfully, usually I'd play into it but my boyfriend (boyfriend?) was bleeding in my bedroom right now. Not exactly a playful mood setting.

"Well... that's... not possible." I manage to get out with a straight face, shutting the door, I could hear her slightly bewildered chuckles from outside the door as I turn around.

The chair where Peter previously was now empty, and he was behind the arm of the chair with his chin propped up giving me a cute little smile. "Chocolate house?"

I roll my eyes but couldn't help the smile that it caused as I sigh and turn to open the door again. I peek out, she's still there. "Lo siento, mamá." I mumble, looking around the hallway instead of right at her.

"¿Quizas mas tarde? no me siento bien. Cramps... and stuff." I say, inhaling deeply as I look up at her. She gives me a knowing smile; pain ran in the family. It was a good excuse.

"Don't worry about it, mi amor." She hums softly, too understanding and it made me feel guilty for lying to her. God... couldn't she act... policy right now?

"Thanks, mom." I quickly say before shutting the door. I exhale deeply, shoulders sagging as I lean against the door, looking back at Peter. He gives me a certain smile that made me smile back. But then I remembered why he was here.

#

I sit on the ground beside him, holding a wettened rag and start to gently wipe his chest. A pained groan leaves his mouth, poor thing was still trying to be quiet. It was so sweet of him and so painful to watch him be in pain. I was trying to be gentle, but that wouldn't do much anyway.

I pause as I look up at him, meeting his eyes that were already looking at me. Sweet pools of brown that sparkled regardless of whatever happens. My shoulders relaxed from their tense state, and I smile at him.

He smiles back softly, one of his hands moving from off the floor to rest on my hip, his thumb rubbing the fabric of my shirt softly. He could ask me to do anything right now and I'd do it as long as he kept looking at me like this.

He leans forward slowly, his eyes fluttering close as his lips get about a breath away from mine and I grin slightly. "Easy there, Bug boy."

He breathes a laugh against my lips before pulling back slightly to look at me. "What'd you call me?" He smiles and tilts his head, lifting his free hand to cup my face. "I'm gonna be alright..." he whispers softly.

I sigh softly and shake my head quietly, his lips gently pressing to my jaw and then my cheek as he whispers a yes, as if to reassure what he assumed I was thinking. Which he probably wouldn't be far off.

"I know what this is..." I exhaled, bringing my free hand up to his face, brushing his hair back gently.

"What is it?" He asks quietly, keeping close to my face as he keeps his sweet little ministrations going before pulling back to look at me.

"For as long as I can remember, my mom has left every morning and has put a badge on her chest and strapped a gun to her hip. And for everyday for as long as I can remember I haven't known if she was going to come home."

He looks at me with those saddening eyes of his, resembling a hurt puppy dog. He lifts his hands to my face, brushing curls away from my face gently before placing his hands on my cheeks, thumb caressing one of my cheekbones softly.

"I got you." He whispers gently, bringing me closer slightly. "Okay?" I lean into his hands and nod slightly. My eyes closing as he keeps my head up with his hands.

"I've got to stop him, though. I have to, 'cause I created him." He, what sounds like, confesses. One of his hands leaving my face as he looks down and away from me.

"What? What do you mean?" My brows furrow as I bow my head slightly to catch his eyes.

"I gave him an equation... that made all of this possible." He explained, and it clicked. That's what he wrote down on that paper that day at Dr Connors house.

"Something my father had been working on, you know? Secretly. Now I realize why he kept it a secret." He says, his eyes looked tortured, slightly glassy and full of blame. "Point is, this is my responsibility."

He looks up at me again, looking between both my eyes. "I have to fix this." I nod a few times, slowly and hesitantly. I didn't want him to, not after this, but I couldn't stop him.

"Okay... alright." I whisper defeatedly, looking down with a deep exhale through my nose.

"Hey..." he breathes out, when I don't lift my head, he brings his fist beneath my chin and gently lifts it for me to look at him. "Let's get out of here." He says, giving me a smile before shaking his head wildly and repeating himself. "Let's get outta here. Just for a minute, can we?"

"If my parents see me leaving, we're both dead, Pete." I mumble, giving a smile that I tried to hold back when he touched his nose to mine.

"Your parents aren't gonna see us leaving." He says with a wide grin as he pulls back and stands us both up. I eye him skeptically for a minute before it clicks, and a wide smile breaks out on my face too.

────────

English Trans:

"Lo siento, mamá." = I'm Sorry, mom.

"¿Quizás más tarde? No me siento bien." = Maybe later? I'm not feeling well.