Against All Odds » MCU [1]

Moment of Truth [2] (Jay's POV)

Dawn had finally been settling over New York, the air getting brisker with the coming of October very soon. It had been a very boring and uneventful Saturday, being left home alone yet again. Since the day of my episode, my mother had stuck by me like glue, making sure that I was going to be alright. At this point, she seemingly trusted that an event like that wouldn't happen again, since I'd been taking those magical pills she'd given me. Very recently, she'd told me that it had been time for her to go back to work - the diner she had worked in during the nighttime a few blocks away from where we lived - in order to better support the two of us. That's what she'd told me, anyway. I was still very wary of her since I knew she had been lying to me, and I wasn't exactly trusting of her. But I told myself I'd continue to play dumb until I eventually found out the truth about what had been happening to me this past month.

I attempted to call Ned earlier in the day to see if maybe he'd want to hang out, but he had been preoccupied with family matters. Exasperated, I texted Harry soon after, wanting company desperately, but he'd been spending the day with his father in the Oscorp building. With Peter gone, I was left with no one to spend time with. I sighed at the thought of Peter as I sat alone on my fire escape overlooking my street, the trees swaying as the cool winds blew through them. Since he'd been gone, I hadn't gotten one phone call, not one text to let me know that he was even still alive. After I'd spoken to Ned in the library that day at school, I grew more and more worried about Peter by the day. I had been aware of his retreat with Iron Man, and that could only mean that they were handling superhero business, which undoubtedly means getting injured in some way. I wasn't exactly sure how I felt about him, but I knew that I wouldn't want him getting hurt.

Since I'd been sitting alone on my fire escape, the street had been pretty quiet, the only sounds being the winds passing through and garbage rolling around on the ground. So when I picked up on the sound of someone's voice coming up the street, I found it a bit odd. I shifted many strands of hair that had been blowing in front of my face behind my ears, and squinted my eyes down the street, only to see a silhouette against the streetlights beginning to power on. I waited as the figure came closer, and my breath had caught in my throat when I noticed who it was. It was almost as if my thoughts had somehow summoned him.

I stood quiet where I sat as I heard him whisper harshly against the wind. I couldn't pick up on most of what he was saying, but it didn't take a genius to see that he looked distressed. That might've been an understatement, as I saw him pull against the roots of his hair. I watched him shuffle up the stairs to my front door, and my heart dropped just a little. It hadn't fully registered that he wanted to see me. He fidgeted where he stood, hoodie on his head, and I couldn't help but feel like I knew why he was so worked up, why he came to see me in the first place. I took a deep breath through the nose and exhaled into the night, watching my breath collide with the cool air, and called out his name from where I sat. "Peter?"

From above, I could see Peter look frantically around, wondering where he'd heard his name. That was when he finally decided to turn his gaze upwards, eyebrows creased as his eyes met my own. "J-Jay?" He sputtered out quite shell-shocked, pushing down his hoodie. "Uh, what're you - what're you doing up there?" He crossed his arms over his chest, confusion written all over his face.

"I don't know," I began quite casually, shrugging my shoulders and pulling down the sleeves to my jacket, "What're you doing down there?" I couldn't quite hide the slight bitterness in my voice, and it was then that I realized that some part of me was still hanging on to a bit of anger, even though maybe I shouldn't have been.

He looked as if he wanted to say something, various noises escaping his mouth, but the words wouldn't quite come out the way he had hoped. He opted for pointing at my door, his gesture communicating that he wanted to see me. "I uh, heh, I kinda wanted to... see you." He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous tick he had, and I watched him from above as he had been a nervous wreck, fiddling with his feet. "You mind if I, you know, come in?" He craned his neck upwards, straining his eyes, and I huffed out a breath.