When Peter got to the station, the reality of everything finally started to settle in, the adrenaline wearing off and leaving behind soreness, exhaustion, and a growing knot of nerves in his stomach.
They led him down a hallway that felt colder than it should have, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead as the officer guided him past a row of holding cells.
MJ's father was taken somewhere else, separated without question, while Peter was directed into a smaller cell on the opposite side, the officer making it clear they weren't putting a fourteen-year-old in the same space as an intoxicated adult.
The door shut behind him with a metallic click that echoed longer than it should have.
Peter sat down on the narrow bench, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands loosely clasped together as he stared at the floor, replaying everything again whether he wanted to or not.
The bank.The gunshot.MJ crying.
He let out a slow breath, trying to steady himself, but the quiet of the cell didn't help, it just gave his thoughts more room to spiral.
About an hour passed before footsteps approached again, the sound of keys jangling breaking the silence.
"Parker," a different officer called, unlocking the door. "Come on."
Peter stood quickly, a little too quickly, like he didn't want to give anyone a reason to think he was causing trouble, and followed the officer down the hall to a desk in a more open part of the station.
The officer gestured for him to sit.
Peter lowered himself into the chair, his posture a bit stiff, hands resting awkwardly in his lap as he glanced around before focusing back on the officer.
"So," the officer said, pulling out a notepad, his tone calm but direct. "Walk me through what happened tonight."
Peter swallowed, nodding once as he tried to organize everything in his head.
"I—I was just watching TV," Peter started, his voice a little unsteady at first before he cleared his throat and tried again. "I was on the couch after my girlfriend left, and everything was normal for a while."
He shifted slightly in the chair, rubbing his hands together without really noticing.
"Then I heard yelling outside, like… really loud yelling, and my Aunt May went to the window to see what was going on," he continued, glancing down for a second before looking back up. "And she said 'oh my God,' like something was wrong, so I got up and looked too."
His voice tightened slightly as he went on.
"And I saw MJ—Mary Jane—being dragged across the street by her dad," Peter said, the image clearly still fresh in his mind. "He was pulling her toward their house, and she was trying to get away."
He paused briefly, taking a breath.
"She's been staying with us," Peter added, his tone quieter now. "With me and my aunt. She… she didn't feel safe at home, because of stuff like that."
The officer nodded, writing as Peter spoke, letting him continue without interruption.
"So I went outside," Peter said, his fingers tightening together. "I told my aunt to call the police, and I just… stepped in between them."
He shifted again, his nerves showing more now as he got to the part he knew mattered most.
"He swung at me first," Peter said quickly, like he needed that part to be clear. "I dodged a couple of times, and I wasn't trying to hurt him, I just— I was trying to keep him away from her."
Peter glanced up, his expression earnest.
"I let him hit me once," he admitted, almost sheepishly. "I didn't want it to look like I was… starting anything."
He exhaled slowly before finishing.
"But then he tried to grab her again, like reach around me, and I just reacted," Peter said, his voice dropping slightly. "I hit him once, just enough to stop him."
The room went quiet for a moment as the officer finished writing.
Peter sat there, waiting, his leg bouncing slightly under the desk as the nerves finally caught up with him.
"I didn't mean to— like, I wasn't trying to… you know," Peter added awkwardly, gesturing vaguely. "I just didn't know what else to do."
The officer looked up at him then, his expression steady but not unkind.
"Sounds like you were trying to protect someone," he said simply.
Peter let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I was."
The officer closed the notepad and nodded once.
"Alright. Thank you for the statement," he said, standing up. "You can collect your belongings at the front desk."
Peter blinked, surprised.
"That's it?" he asked, a little hesitant.
"For now," the officer replied. "And don't leave the state, just in case we need to follow up with more questions."
Peter nodded quickly.
"Y-yeah, okay," he said, standing as well, still a little unsure but clearly relieved.
The officer gave a small, almost reassuring nod.
"That's standard procedure," he added. "This is pretty clear-cut."
When Peter got home, the house felt quieter than it had the night before, like everything had settled but not quite healed yet, and he barely made it two steps inside before MJ stood up from the couch and moved toward him.
Her eyes were red, her voice softer than usual as she tried to speak.
"Peter, I'm really sorry about—"
Peter shook his head gently, cutting her off before she could finish, his expression tired but not upset.
"You don't have to apologize," he said, his tone calm but firm, like he meant it. "None of that was on you, okay? Just… don't worry about it."
MJ hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, but Peter gave her a small reassuring nod before heading downstairs, not really trusting himself to get into a deeper conversation tonight when everything still felt raw.
The next morning came easier.
Peter woke up to the smell of food drifting down into the basement, something warm and familiar that made it easier to push the previous day to the back of his mind, at least for now.
When he came upstairs, May was already at the stove, moving around the kitchen with that quiet confidence she always had when she cooked.
"Morning," Peter said, rubbing his eyes slightly as he leaned against the doorway. "What're you making?"
May glanced back at him with a small smile.
"Bacon and eggs," she said, flipping something in the pan. "Figured you could use a real meal."
Peter smiled faintly and sat down, the normalcy of it all helping more than he expected as he started eating, the warmth of the food settling something in him that hadn't quite been right since yesterday.
While he ate, he pulled out his phone and messaged Gwen.
good morning :)
Her reply came almost instantly.
good morning, sleepyhead. did you actually rest or did you ignore me like usual?
Peter smiled a little more at that, typing back quickly.
i rested… mostly. i miss you already tho
There was a pause before the next message, just long enough to make him glance at the screen again.
miss you more. you better come see me today or i'm gonna be offended
Peter huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.
i was planning on swinging by after you're done work anyway
good. stay for dinner?
Peter leaned back slightly in his chair, glancing toward May before answering.
only if i get to sit way too close to you the whole time
Gwen's reply came with a teasing edge.
you already do that. but yes, dinner sounds perfect
Peter smiled at his phone for a second before locking it and slipping it back into his pocket.
"I'm gonna have dinner at Gwen's tonight," he said, looking over at May.
May nodded, not even looking surprised.
"Just don't be out too late," she said, though there was a small smile there.
Peter grabbed his jacket and headed out soon after, the city already alive as he slipped into an alley and changed, the suit feeling more natural than anything else at this point.
As he swung through the city, the wind rushing past him and the steady rhythm of movement clearing his head, the police scanner in his ear suddenly crackled to life.
"Attention units, we've got a 10-80 heading southbound on FDR Drive. Suspect vehicle is a black SUV, driving erratically, possible armed occupants. Air support en route—units use caution."
Peter's focus sharpened instantly.
"Guess I'm not easing into today," he muttered, already changing direction mid-swing as he followed the callouts, listening carefully as officers updated positions every few minutes.
When he finally caught sight of the SUV, it was worse than he expected, the vehicle swerving between lanes at high speed, barely missing cars as it tore down the road.
Then he saw it.
An elderly woman stepping off the curb at the worst possible moment.
Peter didn't think.
He launched himself forward, slingshotting off a nearby structure with all the force he could manage, landing directly in front of the oncoming SUV for a split second before scooping the woman up and flipping them both out of the way.
They landed safely on the sidewalk, Peter crouched beside her.
"Hey, you okay?" he asked quickly, scanning her for injuries.
She nodded, shocked but unharmed.
Before she could say anything else, Peter was already moving again.
He swung after the SUV, catching up fast before dropping down and crashing straight through the passenger-side window in a spray of glass.
"Hey, you mind pulling over?" Peter quipped, grabbing onto the frame as the driver panicked.
The man reached for something—maybe a weapon—but Peter didn't give him the chance.
One quick punch.
The driver slumped instantly.
Peter grabbed the wheel, steadying the vehicle as it slowed, guiding it safely to a stop before it could crash into anything else.
The police arrived only a minute later, surrounding the SUV and pulling the unconscious driver out while Peter stood on top of the car, brushing bits of broken glass off his suit and catching his breath.
The officers barely had time to thank him before a small crowd started gathering on the sidewalk, people pointing phones at him, whispering excitedly now that the danger had passed and the adrenaline had turned into curiosity.
Peter was used to being watched by now, but standing still while people stared was still weird in a way fighting criminals never was.
Before he could swing away, a group of girls around his age pushed through the crowd, looking far more excited about seeing Spider-Man than the fact there had just been a police chase.
"Oh my God, it's actually him," one of them said, practically bouncing where she stood as she held her phone up. "Can we get a picture?"
Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly under the mask, glancing toward the officers as if asking if this was normal now, but when nobody stopped them, he shrugged.
"Uh… yeah, sure, I guess."
The girls crowded around him quickly, one standing on each side while another held the phone out, snapping pictures from different angles while Peter gave an awkward little wave, not entirely sure what pose Spider-Man was supposed to make for photos.
Then, right before the last picture, one of the girls leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
The flash went off right at that moment.
Peter froze.
The whole group burst into laughter while Peter stood there completely caught off guard, one hand touching the cheek through his mask like that somehow helped process what just happened.
"Okay, warning next time," Peter said, trying to sound smooth and failing a little.
The girl laughed, already typing on her phone.
"That's definitely going online."
Peter's eyes widened under the mask.
"…Online?"
Another girl tilted her head at him.
"Wait, you have social media, right?"
Peter blinked.
"No?"
The entire group stared at him like he'd said he lived under a rock.
"You're Spider-Man and you don't have social media?" one asked, sounding genuinely offended by the concept.
Peter shrugged awkwardly.
"I've been kinda busy getting punched lately."
That got a laugh out of them.
One of the girls stepped closer, holding out her hand.
"Give me your phone."
Peter hesitated.
"…Why?"
"Trust me."
Against his better judgment, Peter handed over his phone, watching as she opened an app and started setting everything up with alarming speed.
Username.Profile picture.Bio.
"There," she said proudly, handing it back. "Official Spider-Man account."
Peter stared at the screen.
His profile picture was one of the photos they'd just taken.
And the bio read: Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
Peter laughed under his breath.
"That's actually… kinda good."
One of the girls pointed upward toward the skyline.
"You should post something now."
Peter looked around, then up toward the towering buildings and the endless city stretching beneath the bright afternoon sky.
And suddenly he had an idea.
"Hang on."
He fired a web and shot upward, scaling the side of a building in seconds until he reached one of the highest points nearby, standing on the edge and looking out over the city from a view only someone like him could really get.
The skyline stretched endlessly, sunlight reflecting off glass towers, traffic moving like tiny streams below.
Peter pulled out his phone and snapped a picture.
It looked incredible.
The girls had followed him as far as they could from the street below, shouting up and waving, and one of them immediately tagged his new account in the photo from earlier—the cheek kiss picture.
Within minutes, notifications started exploding across his phone.
Likes.Comments.Follows.
Hundreds.
Then thousands.
Peter stared at the screen.
"…That's a lot faster than I thought."
As the day went on, Peter leaned into it.
Between patrol swings and helping people, he started taking photos from places nobody else could reach—sunsets from skyscraper edges, selfies hanging upside down under bridges, city shots from the tops of cranes, and quick snapshots of rooftops stretching for miles.
Each post got more attention than the last, people flooding the comments with questions, jokes, and theories about who he was.
Peter found himself smiling more than he had in days, replying to a few harmless comments and posting captions that matched his usual humor.
One photo of him hanging upside down from a water tower got captioned: Rent is still too high.
Another rooftop sunset simply said: Best seat in the city.
By the afternoon, his follower count had jumped into the tens of thousands, and Peter couldn't help but laugh at how quickly his life had somehow turned into this.
This morning he was stopping car chases.
Now he was accidentally internet famous.
And somewhere across the city, Gwen's phone buzzed with a notification from Spider-Man's brand-new account.
Her eyes narrowed when she saw the first photo.
Specifically the one where some random girl kissed him on the cheek.
Peter's phone buzzed seconds later.
we're gonna talk about that picture later.
Peter stared at the text while standing upside down under a bridge.
"…Uh oh."
Peter stared at Gwen's text while hanging upside down beneath the bridge, the city traffic rushing beneath him as his phone buzzed again with another message before he could even think of a response.
And by talk, I mean you explaining why some girl kissed you.
Peter let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck even though nobody was there to see it, and quickly started typing, knowing Gwen well enough to recognize when she was teasing and when she wasn't.
In my defense, I had zero warning.
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
That is not a defense, Peter.
Peter smiled despite himself, shaking his head before firing back another message.
She asked for a picture. Then surprise cheek attack. I got ambushed.
There was a longer pause this time before Gwen answered.
You're lucky I know where you live.
Peter laughed louder at that, his mood lighter now as he pushed himself upright and sat on the steel beam, legs dangling over open air while the skyline stretched endlessly around him.
Dinner still on?
The reply came fast.
Yes. But I'm claiming at least three kisses to make up for your new fan club.
Peter smirked under the mask.
Only three?
A few seconds passed.
Keep talking and I'll make it five.
Peter slipped the phone back into his pocket, still grinning as he swung back into the city, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the buildings while his new account kept exploding with notifications every few seconds.
At first, Peter ignored them, but curiosity kept pulling him back, and between patrol swings, he found himself checking the comments and messages more often than he probably should have.
Most were harmless—people thanking Spider-Man for helping, asking where he'd been spotted, or joking about the girl who kissed him—but one thing stood out.
People were sending him tips.
Crime reports.
Peter slowed on a rooftop, staring at his phone as someone tagged him in footage of a mugging happening only six blocks away.
His eyes widened slightly.
"Well… that's actually useful."
Within seconds he was moving again, following the location through side streets until he spotted it—a man trying to rip a purse away from an older woman while she fought back.
Peter dropped between them so fast the mugger nearly fell backward in shock.
"Hey," Peter said casually, yanking the purse free and handing it back. "Pretty sure stealing is frowned on."
The mugger ran.
Peter webbed his legs together before he got three steps.
The woman thanked him, and before Peter swung away, she asked for a picture too.
That made three photos today.
By the time the afternoon rolled into evening, Peter's account had nearly doubled in followers again, and now he understood why people cared about this stuff so much.
Gwen's message came through just as Peter was crossing over Midtown, perched on the edge of a rooftop while checking the newest flood of notifications on his Spider-Man account.
Almost done here. Walk me home?
Peter smiled the second he read it, the exhaustion from the day easing just a little at the thought of seeing her.
His thumbs moved quickly over the screen.
Be there in a flash.
Without another thought, he changed direction immediately, webbing across the skyline toward Oscorp, the massive tower impossible to miss even from blocks away, its glass walls catching the late afternoon sun like a beacon over the city.
As he got closer, Peter dropped into an empty alley nearby, landing lightly between dumpsters and brick walls where nobody could see him.
He pulled on his regular clothes over the suit, layering his hoodie and jeans over the red-and-blue fabric so he could peel it off quickly later if he needed to.
Once he was sure he looked normal enough, Peter stepped out onto the sidewalk and headed toward Oscorp like any other kid meeting his girlfriend after work.
The giant staircase leading to the front entrance was crowded with employees filtering out after their shifts, people carrying bags, talking about their day, and hurrying toward buses or taxis.
Peter spotted Gwen immediately at the top of the stairs.
She spotted him at the exact same moment.
The way her face lit up made Peter's chest tighten in the best way.
He picked up his pace without even realizing it, climbing the steps faster while Gwen practically rushed down to meet him halfway.
The second they reached each other, Gwen jumped at him without hesitation, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as Peter caught her easily and spun her around, laughing as the force of it made them both lose balance for half a second.
Then she kissed him.
It wasn't quick or shy.
It was warm, familiar, and carried all the affection they'd been trading through texts all day, and Peter kissed her back just as eagerly, his arms tightening around her waist while the world around them seemed to disappear for a moment.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were smiling.
Gwen rested her forehead against his, her breath warm against his face.
"That's number one," she said teasingly, her eyes gleaming. "Two more to go."
Peter laughed, still holding her up for another second before setting her down.
"You're really keeping count?" he asked, grinning.
Gwen crossed her arms dramatically.
"You got kissed by a fan," she said, trying to sound serious and failing because of her smile. "There are consequences."
Peter leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"So what I'm hearing is… I should be worried?"
Gwen smirked.
"Very."
Before Peter could answer, Gwen glanced over her shoulder and noticed someone lingering near the entrance, awkwardly adjusting his glasses while holding a tablet against his chest.
"Oh," Gwen said, turning back. "Peter, this is Max."
The man stepped forward nervously, offering his hand.
He was older than Peter and Gwen, maybe mid-twenties, thin, slightly hunched, with messy hair and the kind of energy that screamed awkward genius.
"Uh—hi," he said, his voice stumbling over itself a little. "Max Dillon. Gwen's been helping me with the electrical bio-project.
Peter shook his hand politely, noticing the way Max's eyes kept darting between him and Gwen, like he wasn't used to social interactions outside of work.
"Peter Parker," Peter said. "Gwen's mentioned you."
Max smiled awkwardly, adjusting his glasses again.
"She's smart," Max said quickly, almost like he needed Peter to know that first. "Really smart. Helped fix a calibration issue this morning in like five minutes."
Gwen rolled her eyes, clearly embarrassed by the praise.
"It wasn't that impressive."
Peter smiled at her.
"Sounds impressive to me."
Max looked between them, awkwardly clearing his throat as he seemed to realize he was standing in the middle of couple energy.
"Well," Max said, stepping back toward the building. "I should… get back inside. Night shift maintenance."
Gwen gave him a small wave.
"See you tomorrow, Max."
Max nodded before disappearing back into Oscorp, leaving Peter and Gwen alone again at the bottom of the giant staircase while the city lights slowly started flickering on around them.
Peter looked over at her, slipping his hand into hers as they started walking.
Peter and Gwen started down the sidewalk together, their hands still intertwined like neither of them had any intention of letting go anytime soon.
Peter kept leaning closer just to make her laugh, and Gwen kept bumping her shoulder into his whenever he said something stupid enough to deserve it, which was often enough that they both lost track of how many times they had laughed before they'd even made it half a block.
At one point Peter glanced down at their hands and grinned."Just so you know, I'm considering this a professional escort service."
Gwen snorted and looked up at him with a smile so bright it made his chest feel weird in the best way."You say that like you're not the one walking me home."
"I am walking you home," Peter said, pretending to think it over. "But I'm also doing it with style."
Gwen laughed again, then slowed just enough to step closer and slip her arm around his waist, resting against him as they kept walking.
Peter immediately tightened his arm around her shoulders, drawing her in without even thinking about it, and the two of them moved down the street looking so naturally wrapped up in each other that passing pedestrians kept glancing their way with amused little smiles.
They did not notice any of it.
Peter was too busy looking at Gwen like she was the only thing in the city worth paying attention to, and Gwen was too busy teasing him about how badly he was trying to act cool while clearly failing at it.
"You know," Gwen said, tilting her head up at him, "you get this little smile whenever you think you've said something smooth."
Peter widened his eyes innocently."I have no idea what you mean."
"Yes, you do."
"Nope."
"You do."
"No, I don't."
Gwen stopped walking just long enough to face him, her hands slipping up to the front of his hoodie."Then explain why your face looks like that."
Peter blinked, and then realized he was definitely smiling too hard.
"…Because you're very distracting," he admitted, suddenly a little quieter.
Gwen's expression softened in a way that made him forget the rest of the sentence he'd been about to say.
Then she rose up on her toes and kissed him right there on the sidewalk, warm and easy, like she had absolutely no shame in making the whole world wait a second while she reminded him she was there.
Peter kissed her back just as quickly, his hand sliding to her waist as if it belonged there, and for a second they just stood in the middle of the city pretending no one else existed.
A taxi rolled by, the driver glancing over with a knowing look.A couple across the street laughed when they saw them.Someone even whistled, which made Gwen pull back just enough to grin against Peter's mouth.
"Still think you're being subtle?" she asked.
Peter let out a breathless laugh, resting his forehead against hers."Not even a little."
They started walking again, slower this time, Gwen now tucked completely into his side while Peter kept his arm around her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Every few steps he would lean down and murmur something just to make her laugh, and every time she did, she'd lean right back into him as if they had all the time in the world and nowhere else they needed to be.
By the time they reached her neighborhood, they were both still smiling, still trading quiet jokes, still acting like the entire world had narrowed down to one sidewalk, one evening, and the two of them making their way home together without a care about who saw
By the time Peter and Gwen reached her apartment building, the sky had shifted into that soft evening blue, city lights flickering on one by one as if the whole place was settling in for the night.
They slowed near the entrance, neither of them in a rush to let go just yet, their hands still linked as Gwen leaned lightly into his side, both of them smiling in that quiet, comfortable way that didn't need words.
"You made it," Gwen said softly, glancing up at him like it was some kind of accomplishment.
Peter smiled back, squeezing her hand."Barely. That was a very demanding walk."
Gwen rolled her eyes, nudging him playfully before leading him inside.
The moment they stepped into the apartment, the atmosphere shifted just a little.
Not tense, exactly.But aware.
George Stacy sat at the table, already home, while Helen Stacy moved between the kitchen and dining area, setting everything up for dinner.
Both of them looked up when Peter walked in.
Peter shifted slightly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Uh… hi," he said, a little more nervous now than he had been five minutes ago. "Thanks for letting me come over."
Helen smiled warmly, though there was a knowing look in her eyes.
"Of course, Peter," she said, gesturing toward the table. "Dinner's just about ready."
George gave him a small nod, not unfriendly, but definitely observant, like he was still figuring Peter out in his own way.
They all sat down together, the clink of plates and utensils filling in the silence at first while Gwen subtly nudged Peter's foot under the table, like she could feel him getting tense and wanted to ground him again.
Peter glanced at her and she gave him a small reassuring smile.
That helped.
Conversation started simple—school, work at Oscorp, Gwen mentioning something about Max nearly short-circuiting a system earlier before catching himself at the last second—but eventually, Helen set her fork down and looked at Peter a little more directly.
"We heard about what happened last night," she said gently.
Peter paused mid-bite, his shoulders tensing slightly before he set his fork down, already knowing what she meant.
Gwen's eyes flicked to him, not surprised, just watching.
Peter let out a small breath, nodding.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "It was… kind of a mess."
He rubbed his hands together slightly, not out of guilt this time, but nerves.
"MJ's dad showed up drunk," Peter explained, his voice steady but careful. "He was dragging her back to the house, and she was trying to get away."
George's expression tightened slightly at that, his jaw setting in a way that said he'd seen situations like that before.
"I stepped in," Peter continued. "Told my aunt to call the police, and I just tried to keep him away from her."
He hesitated for a second, then added,
"He swung first. I dodged a couple times, but when he tried to grab her again, I hit him. Just once."
The table went quiet for a moment.
Peter glanced down briefly, then back up.
"They took both of us in," he said, a little awkwardly. "I gave a statement, and they let me go after."
Helen nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful but not judgmental.
"That must have been frightening," she said, more for MJ than anything.
"It was," Peter admitted. "For her, yeah."
George leaned back slightly in his chair, studying Peter for a moment before speaking.
"You did the right thing," he said simply.
Peter blinked, a little surprised by how direct that was.
"I… did?"
George nodded once.
"You protected someone who needed it," he said. "You didn't escalate it beyond what was necessary, and you cooperated afterward."
He paused briefly.
"That matters."
Peter felt some of the tension leave his shoulders at that, even if just a little.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
Under the table, Gwen reached over and took his hand again, squeezing it gently where no one else could see, and Peter squeezed back, a small smile returning to his face.