There's just this feeling in the air that's making Peter's spidey senses tingle.

It's not exactly the "RUN, you're going to be eaten by that hairy six-foot monster" feeling, but there's enough dread in the air to keep Peter jumping every time someone taps him on the shoulder.

And it really does sucks, because he has two exams today, and he can't exactly afford to jump three feet in the air when someone asks him for a pencil. Apparently that's bad for secret identities and all that coolness.

At least no one seems to be interrogating him, because he's knocked over three desks today and smacked a cup filled with pencils off the table. But Mr. Harrington's giving him really weird looks, and Ned's been mothering over him a lot more than usual. Even MJ hasn't been calling him a loser, which is kind of worrisome.

"-eter. Earth to Peter? Helloooo, anyone home? PETER."

It's Ned's voice, but it's just so hard to concentrate with the constant thrumming of danger. His spidey senses are definitely going haywire, and it's just so annoying that he can't figure out why.

Peter looks up and woah, Ned's face looming over him, and how did he get so close all of the sudden? Behind the lunch table, MJ is staring at Peter… with a really weird expression on her face. Was she mad?

Peter blinks confusedly, "Hi?"

But MJ's face isn't as scowly as it would have been when she's actually mad. Could it be… exasperation? Concern?

"-ou're blanking out on us again, Peter."

It's MJ again, and that definitely sounds like concern, because again, she never uses his real name. Vaguely, Peter wonders if the end of the world is near, because MJ mixed with concern? Those two ingredients don't exactly go together.

He's busy musing about what type of cake MJ and concern would make (probably the cake's equivalent to pineapple pizza) as he responds with a wince, "Sorry, it's just…"

He trails off, because a wave of chills runs through his body, and this is really, really freaky because it's familiar feeling, but he can't place his finger on it. A warm arm wraps around him, and he can't help but burrow into the warmth, because it's suddenly super cold for no reason at all. He still can somewhat comprehend the whispering in the background, but he's just focusing on keeping his mind off the jittery feeling.

"-eally shivering now-"

"-hair on his arms are standing up."

"-hink we should contact the nurse?"

Slowly, the feeling fades, but the panicky atmosphere still is somewhat lingering, because all Peter wants to do is fight or flight. Both are definitely not a good ideas to do, because hello, secret powers here, and people might be a bit suspicious if they see him upside down on the ceiling. But it's still an improvement, and finally, he can comprehend the heated whispering conversation between MJ and Ned.

MJ's hissing, "What if this keeps on going? I don't have the money to buy funeral flowers" before Peter wearily taps her on the nose, and gives her a mock dejected look.

"Wow, not even a fancy gravestone for your best buddy?"

Suddenly the arm around Peter tightens, and it's attached to Ned, and he's somehow transformed the bro hug into one of those cheesy, teary hugs.

Ned's voice breaks as he says, "Don't you dare scare me like that again. This is like what, the millionth time?"

MJ's worried expression smooths out, but she still gives a tiny frown towards Peter.

"Completely agree with Ned. You don't pay us enough for being your friends, mister."

Peter sticks out his tongue, but can't help but mentally agree, because the image of a worried MJ is stuck in his mind, and Ned's still clutching him like he's going to disintegrate into ash. A flash of the old self-deprecation he had when Ben… happened pops up, but quickly scrambles away because MJ's giving him the raised eyebrow.

Seriously, she must have gotten psychic powers before because she always knows when they've tiptoed into a fragile area. It's just like magic, and Peter's almost tempted to randomly ask her if she's went to Hogwarts yet.

MJ pokes a bit of the lettuce in her sandwich. "But honestly, what was that exactly?"

Peter shrugs, and eyes his own hamburger, because it's still looking super good, and now that his chills dialed down a bit, he can hear his stomach growling. He responds after swallowing a mouthful of deliciousness, "Just a random feeling."

Ned and MJ both give him twin are-you-seriously-messing-with-me-right-now glares, and he quickly reasserts, "Probably something to do with my spidey senses going crazy or something. I didn't get much sleep yesterday because of homework."

Actually, he didn't get much sleep because of a six-foot, hairy monster that was chasing him down the streets during patrol, but he's not going to tell them that, because hey, he wants to live. Anyways, yesterday's fight was pretty epic because there was just so much hair on the monster, and he got to spit out puns while stringing him up ("Looks like you've got yourself in a pretty hairy situation, Tarzan!").

Ned nods, accepting his explanation grudgingly, but MJ still narrows her eyes at him like she knows that something's still off (it's the magic), before shrugging minutely and stealing a piece of pizza off of Ned's plate.

As Ned looks at MJ, scandalized, Peter cheerfully announces, "I call stealing the next one!"

Dramatically, Ned gasps, "Et tu, Peter? I can't handle both my friends betraying me."

MJ just gives Ned a deadpan look as he waves an arm at her for emphasis. Then with Ned's full attention, she opens her mouth in an agonizingly slow pace to take a bite out of the cheesy goodness.

Ned's horrified expression, as if MJ just ate his baby in front of him, was so worth it.

"Are you seriously kidding me? I'll have you arrested for pizza theft."

Peter shakes his head in mock disapproval, unsuccessfully keeping his grin away as he says, "MJ, I thought you knew better than to deal in big crim…"

The word disintegrates in Peter's mouth before he can finish, and suddenly, the dread inside of him magnifies (what's up with all these mood swings, like seriously spidey sense, just pick a feeling). He shifts back in his seat uneasily as another shiver runs up his spine.

Crime.

Why's that such a big deal at this moment? It's not like he's going to skip off to patrol in the middle of a school day.

MJ laughs, and responds with another jab, but Peter isn't listening anymore, because he's just remembered the last time he's had that feeling, and oh god, now the dread is filling up his body, since he can't let it happen again.

The last time he felt the same paranoia in the air was the day when Uncle Ben was murdered.

Peter's on patrol, and he's supposed to be concentrating on swinging from building to building, but his spidey senses are going nuts again. It's even worse this time though, because it's everything that screams danger, and nobody's even talking so he can't exactly get the shrillness to stop.

There's literally nothing to stop.

He miscalculates the next webshot because the persistent phantom shrieking isn't shutting up, and suddenly he's free falling, complete with flailing arms and all. Frantically, he aims his shooters upwards, hoping he didn't mess up his calculations for velocity, because then his momentum would be wrong. Wrong momentum equals one dead spider lying on the floor, which isn't exactly good for his health.

But really, it's kind of hard to be precise when he's hurtling towards the ground, especially since he has to calculate how far he traveled every millisecond. He would much rather panic when seeing the ground hurtling towards him at breakneck speeds than do math.

His mind decides to switch on autopilot, and he mentally pumps his fists in the air after he involuntarily executes a perfect follow-up swing. Then he adds two flips and a back-handspring before tucking into a roll and landing on his feet. It might have been a bit unnecessary, but Peter doesn't do things in small chunks. If he has to take a slice of bread, he might as well swallow the whole loaf.

Speaking of bread, he's pretty sure May's making her walnut date loaf today, and the thought alone is enough to make him stumble.

And that just went way off topic.

He mentally gives himself a slap on the forehead because he really has to concentrate, before stiffly swinging himself on the next building. The stupid shrill sound is still reverberating throughout his head, and normally he would have called quits by now, but he can't. Not now, not when he actually knows the significance behind the feeling of dread.

Then he faceplants into a glass window, and he grits his teeth, because it's going to be a very very long evening.

An hour later of endless shrieking, and Peter's almost ready to go home, because it's like 3 AM in the morning, and he still has to finish his calculus homework. He's swinging back to his apartment before a gunshot echoes in the air, and-

Wait.

Was that MJ?

Before he realizes it, he's in front of MJ's motionless body lying on the sidewalk, blood trickling down her side, and not again, no no no, it can't be happening, not her. The feeling of deja vu is overpowering, because it's happening, he can't stop it again.

She's so frighteningly silent, and horror is welling up in his chest, because only hours ago, she was laughing along with Ned and him, teasing how she beat him on the history exam. But right now, the lamplight is washing over her pale face, and she is just so unnaturally quiet.

He wants to scream.

His spidey senses alert him before the sound of footsteps do, and he neatly flips away from MJ just before a bullet soars through the exact same place he was standing a second before. A shadowed figure is holding a gun a few meters away, holding a stuffed duffle bag.

MJ… he… it was...

It was all because of the money?

The stranger reloads his gun with another click, and silently aims it at him again when he snaps from the pure fury that's running through his veins because MJ, hilarious, snarky MJ was murdered just because of a few green pieces of paper?

Something inside of him disintegrates into dust as he snarls and leaps towards the robber as the next gunshot rings out, and misses. He sends the other person to the ground, and the gun clatters on the pavement a couple of yards away.

His hands wrap around the other person's neck, and he squeezes, hard, and hears the spluttering of the person beneath him. His limbs are flailing, like a fish in air, and he's not going to let go, because one of the best people he's ever met was dead, because of him.

It's justice served on a cold platter, because that's what he deserves.

The white hot fury in his chest doesn't relent as the movements of the person underneath him slowly become limp. He can see the robber's chest stop moving, and still, he keeps his hands around the other's throat.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. A life for a life.

"Peter."

Through the fog of anger, Peter could hear the voice, faint and hoarse from pain. It's familiar… but he can't focus on the voice long enough to recognize it.

"Peter. You're better than this."

It's coming from behind him, and he absentmindedly wonders why his spidey senses haven't gone nuts yet as he turns and-

MJ's clutching at her bullet wound on her side, staring at him.

She's alive.

"Peter. Please."

Her voice is filled with desperation. But she's alive.

"Unclench your hands."

He finally sees the fear in her eyes as he looks down confusedly, and then spots the person's limp body in his grasp. His chest is barely rising and falling.

Oh.

He drops him.

Behind him, MJ let's out a weary sigh of relief, as the wail of sirens comes roaring down the road, and Peter quietly slips away before the light reaches him. He looks back to see MJ and the robber safely being put on stretchers, before he swings home.

At his apartment, he lies awake in his bed, staring at his hands.

It's been a couple of days since… Peter almost killed someone, and he knows he should be getting his act together, but…

He can't swim above the guilt, and the fact that he was almost a murderer drags him down until he can't concentrate on anything except remembering the feel of skin under his hands. Even worse, he can tell he's worrying everyone.

May has been fussing over him with that worried, tired look in her eyes that looks much too familiar to his liking, the one that he swore would never again happen because no one deserved to end up taking care of him when Ben… happened. But here, it's happening again, and of course he has to be the one who breaks his promises.

At school, Ned's been shooting him concerned looks the whole entire lunch period every week, and during their daily Lego Star ships creations. Even Flash asked him if he was alright, even though he followed that with a gruff, "I can't let my rival be too out of shape, or it'll be too boring."

Gossip about MJ and the robber already has spread throughout the entire school, and he can't help but violently flinch away everytime someone mentioned the thick purple bruises found on the robber's neck. It didn't take long for Ned to add two and two together, and on the third day, he jabbed Peter softly, and gave him some of his pizza. "It wasn't your fault."

Peter gave him a weak smile in response, but of course it was his fault, who else would it be? He had the warnings, he could have stopped the whole shooting incident before it even happened, he should have paid attention to that tingly feeling more, but he didn't. And now MJ's at the hospital, and he nearly killed a human, a living human with his bare hands, and how was it not his fault?

But he nodded to Ned, who looked a bit more relieved, and took a small bite of the pizza.

It's his fault.

The building's falling around him, and he's looking down at the writhing robber underneath his hands, but he can't let go, because he can't move.

The robber changes to Ned, and then to MJ, who's staring at him with horror in her eyes, the same horror that she was looking at him with on the ground with a bullet in her side. He tries to lessen his grip but it grows tighter instead, and she's pawing at his hands, trying to make him let go. He can feel her growing weaker, and then she slowly becomes limp in his hands.

The dust rains down heavier, and the cracks in the building grow.

Too late, he stumbles back, as his hands unglue from MJ's body. The air is thickening, and with a big crack, the ceiling falls down on him, as he watches MJ's prone body disappear within the billowing dust.

Why did he do that, murderer, murderer, no, she's dea-

With a thump, Peter rolls off the bed, and jolts awake on the floor. The blankets are in a suffocatingly tight embrace around his body, and he can't get out, and everything's too close, and he's a murderer and-

"Jesus kid, breathe."

He gives a few more wheezing breaths, as Mister Stark sits next to him, cross-legged on the ground.

Oh god.

He just had a nightmare in front of the Tony Stark, and now he's going to think how much of a baby he's being and-

"Kid, you're fine, just breathe with me."

He's hyperventilating again. And to think, he was supposed to be having a relaxing weekend building robots at the Avengers Tower, and then he has a stupid nightmare to ruin it all.

Gold star for him.

Peter sucks in a few more breaths before rolling out of the blanket sheets. "Mister Stark, I'm so sorry, I don't know why I did that. I shouldn't have woken you up, I really am sorry-"

Mister Stark holds up both hands, "Slow down, everything's fine."

Peter sheepishly sits up from the ground, and tosses the blankets back on the bed.

Mister Stark gives a small snort of amusement, "Anyways, I was already awake, so you don't have to be worrying about waking me up."

He waves a hand at the wrinkled bedsheets and the mound of blankets. "But seriously, what was that?"

Peter stares down at his hands. Strangling the life out of som-

"Just a nightmare."

He can feel Mister Stark's gaze on him, and he shifts uncomfortably, because what if he figures out what an absolute messed up person he was?

"Did it have to do anything with the girl and the robber on the news?"

Peter looks up quickly, and meets Mister Stark's analytical gaze (why does he get psychic powers too?). He gives a tiny nod.

Mister Stark just sighs, and then scoots over towards Peter.

"Kid, you know that it wasn't your fault."

This time, Peter can't help but let out the bitter laugh that spills out of him, because that's what everyone's been saying, but they don't know what he knows.

They don't know what it feels like to strangle the life out of another person.

They don't know what it feels like to want to murder someone.

Mister Stark gives him a look, and awkwardly glances downwards, fiddling with his hands.

"I-I've killed a lot of people in my life, and I completely understand the responsibility that comes with... wanting to end someone's life, no matter what other people think…"

He trails off, rubbing a spot on his chest. He takes another deep breathe, "But there's not any use blaming yourself, kid, when you can be using that for something else. In the end, it's fate that puts down the nasty pieces, and it's up to you to throw them together in a working robot. Sometimes, things malfunction, but you just have to hammer them together, and hope they stick."

That's… something to think about.

Mister Stark suddenly stands up, brushing off invisible dust off his oil-stained pants, and offers a hand to Peter. "I'm a bit allergic to the touchy-feely talk."

Peter can't hide his snort of laughter as he pulls himself up with the hand offered.

Mister Stark gives him a mock betrayed look as he strides out the room. But before he leaves, he calls out, "You're a good kid, Pete. But don't make the same mistakes as I did, because blaming yourself is never worth the trouble."

When MJ saunters in the lunchroom a week later, Peter lets out an inaudible sigh of relief.

She slides into a seat, and elbows Peter, "I heard that you were blaming yourself for what happened."

Peter shrugs, and frantically looks at Ned for help, who makes an it's-all-up-on-you shrug, and casually looks away.

He has such good friends.

MJ smirks at him, "Good, you better not be feeling guilty, or I'll be giving you more Decathlon questions to practice."

Really, really good friends.

But a warm feeling bubbles up inside of him, because he actually has a family he can fully trust. Not like before, when he had to walk the path alone.

He laughs at Ned and MJ when they begin bickering over the next slice of Ned's pizza, because yep, he definitely could get used to this.

And... that's the last chapter of this series! Hope you guys enjoyed the ride as much as I did, and thanks for all your guys' reviews, follows, and favs; they really do make my day. Sorry about the late post for this chapter, since I was away for most of the past two weeks, but I made this chapter a bit longer to compensate. I'm currently thinking about another project, and hopefully that's going to come out real soon, but adios for now, and thanks again for sticking with the ride!

Btw, yes, if you haven't figured it out yet, MJ knows Peter's secret identity, cause she's observant like that.