Spideychelle Instagram

IRL || Injury

MJ's POV-

    I glanced over towards my bedroom window as I paced back and force nervously. It was open, due to Peter's request in his reply to my Instagram comment, but only a sliver since I was worried about leaving my window fully open at night. I hoped that Peter would be able to identify which window belonged to my bedroom since it was on the second story and you couldn't tell that the window was open unless you looked very closely. 

    I chewed on my already gnawed-stubs of fingernails. I had never been so worried about a person, well, besides when my mom got into a minor car accident that I thought was a lot worse at my young age of five. I wasn't able to tell if Peter's Instagram comment was a cry for help because he was injured or something, or because he was freaked out about the fact that Flash revealed him as Spider-Man.

    Spider-Man... Peter Parker, a 15-year-old teenage boy, was revealed to be Queens' friendly-neighborhood superhero, Spider-Man. My best friend, classmate, loser-crush was freaking Spider-Man! 

    It has to be a hoax, I thought, shaking my head. There is no way that Peter is Spider-Man... none. Flash must have edited it. But the more I thought about it, the more it dawned on me that it wasn't a hoax. Peter being Spider-Man explained everything-- the missed decathlon practices, Home-Coming, Washington, lack of appearance at school, having to abruptly leave countless situations for no reason... all of it made sense. Besides, why would Flash, of all people, edit Peter into a Spider-Man suit and post it as blackmail? Everyone marveled over Spider-Man and his deeds, so what kind of blackmail would that be?

    My denial started to fade away as quickly as it had sprouted in my head, replaced now with anxiety for Peter. It was crazy to me how a teenager was out in the big city of Queens, risking his life every day to save people. It was definitely not safe what Peter was doing, yet he still did it anyway to make sure the citizens were safe.

    "Holy shit!" I yelped, a sudden thought hitting me. "My best friend is an Avenger!" I ran my fingers through my hair, it now loose from its low ponytail that I had it pulled back in all-day. This has got to be a dream... or a nightmare. I was having severe-mixed feelings about this whole situation. It seemed partially good but at the same time the worst, craziest thing in the world.

    My thoughts were cut to an abrupt stop when I heard a thud on the side of my house below my window. I jumped, inhaling sharply in surprise and walked forward slowly, listening to the faint sound of shuffling below my window, almost like something climbing up the side of my house. "Peter?" I asked softly, about to lean over the side of my window when an arm covered in red spandex shot through the gap that I left open, wrapping around my windowsill. I jumped back, placing my hand over my mouth, startled. After a moment of recovering from my shock, I quickly opened up my window all the way, recognizing the red spandex coloring as the Spider-Man suit.

    Spider-Man, or Peter, climbed in through my window and dropped down, slumping against my wall. I ripped off his mask quickly, revealing Peter's face. "Peter, you have a lot of explaining--" I cut myself off when I noticed his tear pricked eyes. I tilted my head in confusion before I noticed his battered up, bloody face. He had a bloody nose and lip and a gash across his left cheek. "Oh my god--"

    That's when I noticed the blood dripping onto my floor. The blood smeared on my wall. The blood dripping off of Peter. 

    It took everything I had in me not to scream in horror when Peter pulled his hand away from where he was clutching his side, revealing a bullet wound that was pouring out blood. "Holy shit!" I breathed out, unable to move through my shock.

    "I... bank robbers... gun," Peter heaved, unable to make out any more words as he started to hyperventilate. I cupped my hands over my face, hysteria overwhelming me.