Chapter Text
You discovered your powers when you were little, stumbling upon an injured stray cat out on the street. You couldn’t explain it, but you could feel the cat and its pain beyond the empathetic sense; there was a tangible aura surrounding it that you could just sense. You focused all of your attention on it, stroking your fingers through the animal’s fur and wishing you could do something about it when your hands began to glow with a blue hue. The wounds of the feline began to seal shut, appearing as if there was nothing there in the first place.Your younger self was baffled, but your kid-typical short attention span soon dropped the matter in favor of the realization that you had a new furry friend to play with.
Other strange occurrences happened over the years, like objects you were reaching for moving seemingly on their own into your grasp. You kept all of these happenings to yourself, thinking yourself just like the superheroes you saw on tv (both real and fictional) and it was normal and just something left unsaid. Having been frequently exposed to the idea of superheroes and powers, you never thought that it wasn’t normal to have peculiar abilities.
Middle school proved just how wrong you were.
Your family had moved to New York City due to your parents receiving new jobs, leaving you stranded in a new school in an unfamiliar area with no friends. You mostly kept to yourself for the first part of the day, nerves getting the best of you and resigning yourself to sitting back and observing those around you. Through these observations you realized with a heavy heart that having magical abilities wasn’t normal, in fact it made you a freak. The other kids chattered about the heroes they saw on the news and no doubt parroted some of their parents’ opinions of them like how they were abnormal and a danger to society, despite most working to protect it. You remained silent every time you heard those comments, your chest clenching with sadness and isolation, though it made you glad you never used your powers in front of anyone up to this point, deciding then and there you’d always keep it to yourself.
Lunch period rolled around and you anxiously stepped out into the cafeteria, lunch tray firmly held in your grip. You had no clue what table to seat yourself at since you hadn’t talked with anyone enough to be invited and didn’t feel comfortable just approaching any group. Scanning the edges of the room, you were looking out for an empty table amongst the outskirts when your gaze focused on the form of a boy sitting alone. You tentatively got closer, reaching out with your magic to investigate his aura (over time as you explored your powers, you’d begin to refer to them as one’s soul), an undetectable process to allow you to get the general feel of someone before approaching. Deciding he didn’t seem too bad, you sat down across from him and introduced yourself.
That was the day you first met Peter Parker.
The two of you hit it off almost instantly, ecstatic over the fact you shared some interests (albeit quite nerdy). In the days and weeks following the two of you would always eat lunch together and eventually hang out together at your homes, staying up late and passing out on the couches of your living rooms clutching the controllers to the video games you were playing just hours prior. The Parker residence became like a second home to you with May and Ben feeling like they were your aunt and uncle as well, and you were certain that Peter felt the same about your home and parents. The two of you were practically glued at the hip, snapping up every opportunity to spend time together, the best being when you shared a class. As soon as a partner project came up you were quick to claim each other, much to the dismay of everyone else in the class because you two were the “smart kids” and by pairing up no one could take advantage of that. It was a well known fact that if one of you was spotted, the other wouldn’t be far behind, leading people to believe that the two of you were dating, to which you would both respond by blushing furiously and denying the claim, insisting that you were simply best friends. However, you’d be lying if you said that you’d never entertained the idea.
When the two of you were freshmen in high school, you noticed a drastic change in Peter’s soul seemingly overnight, something beyond what you could write off as simply puberty (though you noticed that too). There was now this immense power that lurked beneath the surface alongside a whirlwind of emotions that even you couldn’t pinpoint. Still, he acted the same as he always did, so you wouldn’t press the issue. He had his secrets and you had yours.
One day soon after you noticed the change, Peter failed to meet you on the way to school, where usually the two of you would travel to the building together. You waited a few minutes in your meeting spot to see if he was just running late (as he notoriously could be), but he never showed. With a sigh, you shot him a text saying that you’d gone on ahead and that you’d see him in class later and trudged ahead alone.
Once in the school, you checked your phone only to see that Peter hadn’t responded to your text, which was strange even for someone like him. The odd chance he was sick enough to be unable to attend school, he’d be sure to shoot you a text or reply to the ones you sent in the very least. You approached the other members of the small friend group the two of you managed to make over time, confirming that they hadn’t seen or spoken to him either. With a frown, you gathered the materials you needed for first period from your locker and made your way to the classroom. It didn’t come to much of a surprise when the desk next to yours remained empty (the one that Peter usually claimed). You took it upon yourself to take notes for the both of you in classes you shared and collect all of his homework that he’d be needing (you knew his schedule just as well as your own).
After classes ended you grabbed your school bag and the folder containing Peter’s things and scampered out the front door, shooting a quick text to your parents that you were going over to the Parker residence, which was a common enough occurrence that they didn’t mind it at all. You traveled through public transit to the familiar apartment building, taking the elevator up to the floor you’ve walked many times before. The closer you got to the door, the more uneasy you felt; something was definitely wrong beyond any sort of sickness.
You knocked.
The door opened and the amount of emotional pain that hit you all at once was almost enough to knock you off your feet. Aunt May stood on the other side with eyes red rimmed and a tissue clutched in her fist, grief rolling off of her in waves. You weren’t sure what to say, so you went with your original purpose of coming here.
“I-I, uh, I noticed that Peter wasn’t at school today, so...so I thought I’d collect all the homework and bring it for him.” you managed to choke out, shifting your backpack on your shoulders. May gives you a sad smile, stepping aside to allow you into the apartment. “That’s very kind of you, sweetheart.” she spoke as you walked in. “Today has been tough for the two of us.”
You take a moment to scan your powers over the area, detecting Peter stationary in his room and a curious lack of his uncle’s presence, but that was when the older woman’s words hit you.
Today has been tough for the two of us.
You had noticed some boxes lying about when you walked in and a quick glance told you that they were Ben’s things. On one table sat a flyer advertising a funeral service. You attempted to swallow the lump that had formed in your throat and turned back towards May, finding that she had been watching you put the pieces together.
“Ben?”
The broken sigh that followed was all you needed to hear to confirm the answer.
“He’s gone, (Y/n).”
“I’m sorry.” was all you could say in response, the backs of your eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears. You weren’t sure if all of the grief you felt was your own or if you were absorbing it from the environment around you.
“Peter hasn’t left his room all day.” May pushed the conversation forward, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “Barely gotten more than a few words out of him, either. Maybe..?” she paused and you took that as your cue to head over to Peter’s room, gently opening the door and entering before quietly shutting it behind you.
“Hey, Pete.” you greeted, not surprised in the slightest when you were met with no verbal response. However, you knew he wasn’t ignoring you by the way he shifted underneath his bed covers, pointing an ear in your direction, letting you know that he was listening. “I brought all the things you missed from school today.” you went on, sliding your backpack from its place on your shoulders and digging inside for the specific folder. In the meantime you looked Peter over with your powers, surprised to find that guilt was what he was feeling the most at the moment. Why was he feeling guilty? You shook your head, deciding not to pry as you pulled the folder from your bag, walking over to place it on the boy’s desk and moving to kneel at his bedside.
“I...I know you’re probably not in the mood to talk right now…” you spoke nervously, finding the situation incredibly awkward as he wasn’t even looking at you. “...But you know I’ll be here for you if you’ll have me, right?” You placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, drawing light circles with your thumb. When you received no response yet again, you took a deep breath and got back to your feet, turning to grab your backpack and leave as you figured he just wanted to be left alone, but before you could grab your things a hand shot out from under the covers and tightly gripped your wrist. Caught off guard, you turned back around to find Peter looking right at you with wide, red-rimmed eyes and tear tracks running down his face.
“Please,” he begged, voice croaking from crying and lack of use. “Stay..” There was such desperation in his voice and gaze that you never could’ve dreamed of saying no (not that you’d say no to your best friend, anyways); his hand holding onto your arm like it was the one thing keeping him from drowning.
“Of course.” you soothed, taking a moment to remove your shoes before allowing Peter to pull you under the blankets with him. The two of you immediately fell into an embrace with the boy clinging to you like a small child with his head tucked under your chin and nose pressed into your neck. You kept one hand pressed between his shoulder blades while the other repeatedly ran through his (slightly sweaty) brown curls. Neither of you said a word as there was no need to, a comfortable silence settling over the bedroom only disturbed by the occasional sniff or sob from Peter.
He didn’t need to know that you were using your powers to slowly ease the emotional pain.
After laying together for what felt like hours, you felt Peter’s breath against your neck slow as he fell into an exhaustion-induced sleep. Only then did you feel your eyes begin to droop as you dropped the facade of strength, being subjected to his and May’s powerful emotions as well as using your powers completely drained you of energy. Shifting slightly, you pressed your face into Peter’s hair before succumbing to slumber.
Not too long after would May enter the room to find the both of you asleep in each other’s arms, deciding to let it slide just this once, shutting the lights off and closing the door once more.
In the following days and weeks, Peter slowly came out of his grief and went back to being the best friend and boy you always knew, and you made sure to be there for him every step of the way. You accompanied him to his uncle’s funeral, offered a shoulder to cry on, and remained a pillar of strength for as long as he needed it.
Peter returned to school and everything felt relatively normal again. Although, much to your disappointment, you and Peter had less and less time to hang out. You still texted and talked daily, sure, but you missed being able to head over to the Parker residence on a whim and watch a movie or play video games with your best friend. Now that you were a few years shy of adulthood in high school there was always homework, your part time job, and college prep among other things (Peter had told you about an internship he obtained that took a large amount of time, but never really gave information beyond that), so options for seeing each other were limited outside of a classroom setting.
It was 3AM one night at the tail end of your junior year that changed the course of your life for the worst.
You were sitting on your bed in the darkness of your room, laptop resting across your thighs as you tapped away at the keyboard to finish up an essay you really shouldn’t have procrastinated on. Rain pattered against your window on the opposite side of the room, providing a tranquil atmosphere as you worked, only to be interrupted by the buzzing of your phone on your nightstand. Since the only person to ever call at this hour was Peter, you picked it up and answered without looking at the screen.
“What burning thought did you have that could not wait until we got to school?” you bantered, setting your laptop aside. Sometimes the boy would just get way too excited about something and just had to tell you right away.
“(Y/n) (L/n)?”
The blood drained from your face; that voice was definitely not your best friend. You pulled the phone away from your ear to look at the number on the screen, recognizing it as the one your parents told you to call if there was ever an emergency while they were away on a business trip (which is what they were away for currently). A feeling of dread began to snake around your insides.
“Hello?”
“Y-Yes! Uh, sorry- I mean yes, I am her.” you stammered, pushing yourself out of bed and turning on a light before you began pacing the room. You listened as the man on the other line explained who he was and how he knew your parents, but you didn’t care about any of that. You just wanted know why he was calling you right now. Eventually, you received your answer, but it was one that you had hoped you would never have to hear.
“Ms. (L/n), I regret that we had to meet under these circumstances, but I’ve called to inform you that your parents have been killed in a workplace accident.”
“Oh..” was the only thing you were able to whisper, an increasingly tight feeling settling in your chest. The man continued to speak about setting you up with foster care as you were still a minor and had no other relatives able to take you in, but you were no longer listening. It felt like the world was closing in on you and you had no way to escape. You were losing control, and the hold over your abilities slipped. Normally you were capable of tuning out everyone else’s feelings and pain, but now you were absorbing it all at once. The fear of a child amidst a nightmare, the frustration of a student trying to finish a paper due in mere hours, the distraught couple in separate rooms after a fight; it was as if everyone in the apartment complex was broadcasting directly to you. All you could think was that you had to get out of there.
You ended the conversation with the man as quickly as you could without being rude before hanging up and making a beeline for the front door. Barely remembering to grab the keys from the kitchen counter, you locked the door behind you and practically ran to the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time while trying to avoid passing out from how suffocated you feel.
You burst out of the building’s doors and into the night, immediately being hit with the rain you had been listening to minutes prior. You were acutely aware that you had not thought to grab a jacket before fleeing, but you couldn’t find it in you to care enough about the freezing water droplets soaking through your skin and seemingly down to the very bone.
You weren’t going to go back.
So, you began walking. You didn’t know where, and you knew it was stupid to be walking around alone, at night, and in the rain, but you just needed to get away and your feet were moving like they had a mind of their own. You moved briskly, keeping yourself together long enough to get to where your subconscious was leading you to. When you finally came to a stop, you looked up to find that you were now standing in front of the building complex that contained Peter Parker’s apartment.
Of course, you could’ve guessed as much. If anyone could understand what it was like to lose both parents at once, it was Peter.
Instead of going directly inside and heading up to knock on their door, you elected to go around the side to the fire escape (you didn’t want to wake up Peter’s aunt by knocking on the front door). Clambering up the metal staircase, you stopped outside the window that lead to Peter’s room, noticing that he was awake and moving around inside.
Had you arrived even minutes earlier, you would’ve caught the boy pushing the Spider-Man suit underneath his bed.
You quietly rapped your knuckles against the window pane, causing Peter to whirl around to face you. He squinted, as if he couldn’t believe that it was you standing outside. Nonetheless, he rushed over to the window to meet you. He had opened it with furrowed eyebrows, fully intending on scolding you for walking out in the city at this time of night, but that plan was instantly derailed when he saw the look on your face. He had never seen you look so… vulnerable...and lost… It caught him off guard; you weren’t supposed to be the one that was breaking. You were always the stronger of the two of you when it came to handling emotions, so seeing you like this was particularly shattering for Peter.
Reaching out, Peter grabbed your hands and helped you get through the opening and into his room, making sure to slide the window shut again. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder and ignoring how the rainwater you had brought in was now uncomfortably seeping into his clothes. It felt like years before the silence between you was broken.
“My parents are dead.” you could barely manage the whisper, admitting it to yourself for the first time. It hadn’t felt real until you said it aloud. Peter didn’t speak at first, choosing to tighten his embrace like he could squeeze the pain away. You stared blankly towards the floor, unsure if the droplets trickling down your face were from the rainwater in your hair or from tears. Eventually, your best friend loosened his hold and held you out at arm’s length with a sympathetic smile gracing his face.
“Let’s get you into some dry clothes, yeah?” Peter murmured, giving your shoulder a light squeeze and turning towards his dresser. He rifled through the drawers, pulling out some boxers, sweatpants, and a Midtown High sweatshirt, turning to hold the clothing out to you. Once you took it, he made a point to both cover his eyes and turn away from you to give you privacy. Had you not been so anguished, you probably would’ve laughed at the excessive notion.
You changed into the clothes he provided, not minding the state of undress while being so close to the boy. Both of you had been friends for so long you trusted him completely and felt comfortable changing while he was in the same room. When you are finished you tapped Peter on the shoulder to let him know he could turn around again. He then took the discarded wet clothing from you, promising that he’d be right back and leaving the room, but not before going through his drawers again to grab another outfit (you felt kinda bad for accidentally getting his clothes wet).
While Peter was out of the room, you moved over to sit on his bed, resting your hands in your lap. The sweatshirt that you now wore surrounded you with the comforting scent of your best friend, but that didn’t stop the tears from running down your face. You took in a shaky breath, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes as if that would stop you from crying. The grief was piling up, but this time it was all your own and not a compound of everyone’s emotions in the near vicinity.
You flinched when you suddenly felt fingers softly wrap around your wrists, pulling them away from your face. Peter was knelt down in front of you in a new set of pajamas, looking up at you with his big brown eyes. “Do you want to try to go to sleep?” he asked you, rubbing circles with his thumbs into the pulse points of your wrists as a comforting gesture. You simply nodded, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to talk without reducing to a sobbing mess.
Peter helped you to your feet so he could pull back the covers, stepping aside to allow you to slip into the side closest to the wall with him following suit after you. In your current emotional state you didn’t hesitate to roll onto your side and cling to the boy, hiding your face in his collar. He wrapped his arms around you in an embrace once more, mimicking what you had done for him all those months ago after the passing of his uncle. You place all of your focus onto him; the sound of his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest, the feeling of his soul wrapped around yours. You knew that he probably had no clue what he was doing with his soul, but you were comforted nonetheless; the action working to block out the emotions of everyone being projected at you. It didn’t take long for the emotional exhaustion to do you in, your body slackening as you fell into slumber.
Listening carefully to your heartbeat and breathing, Peter waited until he was certain that you were asleep before shifting a bit to get more comfortable, pressing a kiss to your hair to silently bid you goodnight. He briefly wondered about the earful he’d get in the morning from Aunt May, but disregarded it for now.
He’d protect you from May’s questioning in the morning.
The next day you had breakfast with the Parkers just like you used to (after a mild panic attack when you woke up to find that Peter was no longer in the room with you). Any conversation of the night prior was absent, Aunt May choosing to only discuss safe topics like school activities much to your appreciation. You assumed that Peter must’ve spoken to her about it as no parental figure would act so calmly upon discovering their teenage son had a girl in his room overnight without saying anything; his sense of foresight was much better than yours currently.
After breakfast, you tried to convince Peter to just go to school and leave you to sort out your apartment (you needed to sort and pack your parent’s things as well as your own), but he wasn’t having any of it. He simply continued to follow you on the path to your apartment, and you cursed his stubbornness when it came to helping his friends, though there was no denying you would’ve done the same for him.
You turned out to be immensely grateful for Peter’s company and assistance as there were a lot of things to pack away and occasionally you would run into an item that would trigger a memory, and subsequently, a breakdown. Your best friend was there for you to provide comfort and continue working when you could not. Around lunchtime Aunt May appeared with sandwiches and snacks for the two of you to enjoy before excusing herself to go to work, insisting that you call her if anything happens or if you needed something. It warmed your heart to have someone else care so much about you.
While filing through your parents’ things, you happened upon some paperwork detailing a sizable storage unit that was seemingly paid for indefinitely, which confused you as you don’t recall your parents ever mentioning something like this. After calling the company to confirm that this was in fact true, you made the arrangements to store everything that wasn’t coming with you to the temporary home you’d be living in until you were no longer a minor.
You were absent from school for the rest of the week in order to figure everything out, including funeral plans (you discovered they bought plots in the same cemetery that Uncle Ben now rests in, oddly enough) and finishing your move out of the apartment. Peter insisted on remaining by your side through it all, but you scolded him for attempting to miss more school days, demanding he go as you didn’t want to be responsible for his grades falling, to which he reluctantly obeyed. However, he was sure to be there for the funeral that weekend, standing with you as you grieved and went through the cycle of accepting condolences from strangers (many of your parents’ coworkers attended and introduced themselves to you). He also took a couple minutes to visit Ben and lay down some flowers when everything else was said and done.
The beginning of the following week marked your first day returning to school following the death of your parents. Many of your friends and classmates had already messaged you their apologies over the week prior, so thankfully you didn’t have to deal with that much- you could only hold a fake smile for so long.
Peter stayed near you as much as he could, offering quiet support through small gestures gestures like a squeeze of your hand or a brush of his thumb over your wrist. He would also stop by in the evenings after school and his internship, where the two of you would head to the roof of the building and look to the sky, oftentimes without even speaking. The two of you would just lay there and think.
You greatly appreciated all your best friend was trying to do for you, you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were still collapsing emotionally despite your calm exterior, but you had a feeling that he knew that too. Over that week the instability continued to grow exponentially and you couldn’t handle it anymore. You had since lost control of your powers once again and it was simply too much, so you did the only thing you thought you could do.
You ran.
After Peter went home for the night at the end of the week, you reached under your bed and pulled out a bag of clothing you had packed a day prior.