If We Must - Fully Rewritten

Chapter 7

Michelle had pretty much assumed she'd be used as some sort of misogynistic form of blackmail the minute she'd been kidnapped from her home. Unfortunately, she also knew Peter was 100% the type of boy to fall for it. It was adorable and made her heart race―the way he looked at her like she was the best thing in his life―but it was also going to be his downfall.

She'd spent hours watching Peter's injuries heal while they were relocated to some new, equally cliche villain lair and she'd expected to be separated from him as soon as they arrived. They'd been left together, though, which had been so unexpected that Michelle had to rethink her predictions for what would happen next.

Hearing Mr. Hide-A-Name say that he was interested in the origin of Peter's abilities, however, had once again derailed all her predictions.

"You could have just written a letter," Peter told him. "You know: a pen, some paper. I'm down to answer questions, of course, but this was completely unnecessary."

"You know that's not what I had in mind," Mr. Hide-A-Name replied, pulling a needle from his pocket. "You're a fan of science, no? It's time you contribute to the community."

Mr. Hide-A-Name had hardly taken more than one step towards them when Peter sprang across the room. Perched in a corner on the ceiling, he was well out of reach of Mr. Hide-A-Name and his needle.

"Hey, man," he said, holding out his hands, "let's talk this out. I'm all for science, but needles aren't really my thing, you know?"

"Tough luck, kid," Mr. Hide-A-Name sneered. He turned on his heel and jumped for Peter, but he moved quickly.

The bodyguards by the door moved in. As Peter leapt down from the ceiling and ducked out of Mr. Hide-A-Name's reach, the first guard raised a baton at him.

Peter dodged the hit, sliding under Mr. Hide-A-Name's legs to avoid the needle and his groping hands. As he popped up behind him, he pulled the needle from his hand and snapped it in half before picking up Mr. Hide-A-Name and tossing him into the wall.

As Mr. Hide-A-Name slid down the wall with a groan, the second guard appeared behind him. Peter spun and grabbed his wrist, squeezing until he dropped his gun. Before he could throw the second guard on top of Mr. Hide-A-Name, though, the first guard barrelled into him from the side with a shout.

Peter stumbled and the guard dragged him to the ground. With the drug still in his system, his vision swam more than usual and it took him an extra second to regain his senses after his head connected with the ground.

He groaned, but got to his feet, ready to knock out the first guard in one hit only to stop short.

MJ's heart was racing. He could hear it above the sounds of the guards outside and the shouts from down the halls. As he looked up at her, his breath stuttered and his punch faltered.

The first guard sent him crashing to the floor and pinned him down. His partner climbed on top to help and even though Peter still could have thrown them off, he didn't move. Mr. Hide-A-Name had a gun trained on MJ's head.

"That's it, Spider-Man," he cooed, holding MJ to his chest. "You wouldn't want Miss Jones here to get caught in the crossfire of your little tantrum."

Peter twitched under the guards' hold but didn't throw them.

"I brought along some insurance to ensure your full cooperation," Mr. Hide-A-Name hissed.

The gun in his hand clicked and Peter tensed. MJ didn't move, but he heard her sharp intake of breath and his heart stuttered in time with hers.

The hair on his neck prickled and although his body screamed at him to move, to throw off the men holding him down and get away, he didn't flinch when a needle pricked his skin.

"Peter―"

Mr. Hide-A-Name shook MJ roughly, snarling at her to be quiet, and for a moment, Peter saw red. When he blinked, Mr. Hide-A-Name's gun was webbed to the wall and he had jumped between him and MJ.

"Don't touch her," he hissed, backing them both up until MJ was trapped between him and a corner. "Don't you dare touch her."

Mr. Hide-A-Name sneered at him, but a nod from one of the guards told him they'd gotten enough of Peter's blood.

Peter watched as a guard passed a thin tube to Mr. Hide-A-Name, watched as he tucked it into his pocket, and watched as he made his way to the door. Just before he disappeared through it, Mr. Hide-A-Name stopped and turned back to Peter.

"Try that again next time," he warned, "and I'll kill her before you can draw a single breath."

He slipped through the door, taking all his men with him and sliding the lock back in place, but Peter didn't move until he couldn't hear their footsteps.

"Peter," MJ whispered. Her hand found one of his and she squeezed his fingers tightly. "Breathe."

She pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck and Peter twisted to face her. As he opened his mouth to ask if she was alright, she pulled him to her. With one hand on the back of his head and the other moving from his fingers to his back, MJ hugged him tight and he hastily wrapped his arms around her in return.

"MJ, are you―are you―"

"I'm okay, Peter," she murmured in his ear. "A little spooked, sure, but okay."

He could still hear her heart racing, but the gun was webbed to the wall and she didn't seem to be hurt as far as he could tell. His hands flitted from her shoulders to her wrists as he pulled back to look her over just in case, but MJ caught his face with her hands before he could drown himself in worries.

"Look at me," she ordered softly, dragging his eyes up to hers. "I'm okay."

Slowly, he nodded. "Okay. Okay. God, Em, I can't―he―there was a gun and―"

"I know." She nodded. "I know, Peter. But you got rid of the gun, yeah?"

"Yeah," he agreed breathlessly. "You're sure you're okay?"

"Yes," she told him firmly. He nodded and one of her hands moved from his cheek to his neck as she said, "They did get you pretty good with that needle, though."

Her fingers came away bloodied, but Peter hardly felt the mark anymore. He was still vibrating with panicked energy and even though he knew he'd taken a pretty hard hit to the stomach (again), he didn't feel anything except for the racing of his heart.

"Come 'ere," MJ said, gently pulling him to sit with her on the cold floor.

Sitting with her back in the corner, MJ turned Peter's shoulders and pulled him until his back was pressed against her chest. She wrapped her arms over his shoulders, holding him close as his hands found her arms. Still stiff with anxiety, Peter leaned back into her arms and tried to breathe, focusing on the way her chest rose and fell behind him instead of the gun on the wall.

"We're gonna be fine, Peter," MJ murmured, her lips brushing his ear. "Stark is probably already on his way. We're gonna be fine."