If We Must - Fully Rewritten

Chapter 6

Peter woke with the worst headache he'd ever had and he'd had some pretty bad headaches before―it was unfortunately common when people decided to use untested drugs to knock him out. Half of him wanted to kindly ask all the villains to stop using him as a human test subject. The other half of him wondered how long it would be before he built up immunity to weird, untested drugs.

"Peter?"

He frowned, eyes still closed.

"MJ?" he muttered.

Something squeezed his hand which was comforting enough that he decided to try and open his eyes. As soon as he did, he was met with the most beautiful, blurry image of MJ's face hovering above him.

"You're okay," he breathed, his fingers twitching in hers.

"Yeah, unlike you," she retorted. Her free hand brushed across his face and because she was upside down, the action was slightly dizzying.

"I'm okay," he protested. As soon as he made a move to sit up, however, he groaned.

MJ pushed him back down, laying his head in her lap as it had been before. "You took quite a few hits. I thought you were better at dodging than that, tiger."

Her small smile was teasing, but the thought made Peter frown.

"Karen couldn't see them," he muttered, staring up at the cut above her eye. "Their suits―whatever they were made of, Karen couldn't see them."

MJ hummed, her fingers gently brushing through Peter's hair.

"For fighting invisible men," she said, "I guess you did pretty well. You're hardly even bleeding anymore."

Peter glanced down at his suit, unsurprised to see the five slashes across his suit. Mr. Stark had promised him an update soon, but it was a shame he'd gotten this suit ripped up.

"You got shot, nerd," MJ told him softly. She poked his shoulder and Peter felt the dull ache of a healing gunshot. "Just a graze, but it bled like hell."

With a sigh, Peter pushed himself up to sit in front of her and do a full assessment of his injuries. The gunshot wound on his arm had already scabbed over which was concerning. Usually, it took a handful of hours for something like that to heal. Given the broken nose he knew he had and the multiple hits to his abdomen, it should have taken longer to heal.

"Em," Peter murmured, feeling his nose carefully, "how long have I been out?"

MJ shrugged. "Hours."

Peter's eyes snapped up to hers.

"They moved us," she told him, gesturing vaguely to the room they were in. "You were out for all of it." Noticing the way he was fingering his nose, she added, "I set your nose for you."

It was already healed and although his ribs still ached, he couldn't feel anything broken. The mostly healed gunshot wound was the biggest indicator of how long he'd been unconscious, though.

"How long have we been here?" Peter asked. He glanced around the room. "How far out of Cambridge are we?"

"I don't have a watch," MJ reminded him, "but I don't think we've been here long. Maybe an hour?"

They were a long way from Cambridge then. It would be better if they had a watch or a clock as his healing factor wasn't the most reliable way to tell time, but he trusted MJ's judgment. It was just unfortunate her estimate could only mean bad news.

Turning back to MJ, Peter's gaze landed once again on the cut above her eye.

"Are you okay?" he asked, reaching forward to brush his thumb over the scab. "Did they hurt you?"

"No, I'm okay," she swore. She caught his hand in hers and pulled it into her lap. "Something tells me I'm not their main target."

She gave him a look and Peter turned his hand to lace his fingers through hers. Giving her hand a squeeze, he leaned forward to press a kiss to the cut. His lips were still pressed against her forehead when he picked up on something down the hall and immediately grew tense.

MJ's free hand jumped to his arm as he twisted towards the door, still sitting in front of her.

"Someone's coming," he whispered, holding her hand tightly.

Multiple pairs of footsteps. Whoever was coming wasn't alone.

"Peter." MJ tugged on his hand, drawing his attention away from the door. Giving him a stern look, she said, "You don't have to be the hero, okay? Promise you won't do something stupid."

"No." Peter shook his head. "I won't promise you that, Em. Not if it will keep you safe."

"Peter―"

Peter's attention snapped back to the door at the sound of a lock clicking. His grip on MJ's hand tightened, but he was careful not to hurt her even as anxiety crawled into his throat.

He didn't immediately recognize the man who stepped into the room, but there was a buzz of familiarity about him. Whoever he was, Peter must have crossed paths with him at least once. Perhaps not directly, but the man triggered some form of recognition in him.

"God, this is too perfect," the man mused, standing in the middle of the room. Behind him, two men in their bulky bodysuits stood at attention, but Peter knew there were more outside the door.

His voice grated Peter's ears, making his head spin and reminding Peter that he still had an unknown drug coursing through his system.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for this, Spider-Man?"

The man took another step towards them and Peter shifted in front of MJ. She squeezed his hand in warning and the man's lips twitched into a smile.

"What's in those suits?" Peter asked, jutting his chin towards the two bodyguards. "Why didn't it show up in my mask?"

"Oh, that." The man glanced at his two guards. "I'm sure you remember Toomes. This was just one of the many things he was working on with that alien tech before you caused problems. It's so much easier to gain the upper hand when you're completely invisible."

Toomes. Wow, wasn't that an age and a half ago! Compared to some of the threats he'd helped Mr. Stark and the Avengers with, the villain from his sophomore year seemed so long ago.

"You were with Toomes?" Peter echoed. "God, I thought you all ended up in prison for, like, life or whatever. All the important people did, anyway."

He caught the man's fist before it connected with his cheek, much to the man's disgust. Letting the man pull away, Peter stared up at him.

"I was better at hiding my name," the man sneered down at him. "You got most of our tech, but not all. And with Toomes taken care of, you didn't even think to investigate further."

"Okay, Mr. Hide-A-Name," Peter said, noticing how the man's lips twitched at that, "so you escaped my attention. Congrats!" His eyes narrowed. "Why do you want it now?"

"Alien tech is only so interesting," Mr. Hide-A-Name said, which, damn, Peter disagreed with. "An enhanced boy? Bitten by a spider?" Mr. Hide-A-Name hummed. "That's much more interesting."