This is one of the many brilliant one-shots taking part in the "Gifts for fanofthisfiction Challenge". (more notes at the end)

Christmas Eve morning.

Peter Parker hopped out of his room. A bright smile was worn across his cheeks and an ugly Christmas sweater around his body. He had pulled a blanket off of the couch on his way out and wrapped it around his shoulders. He peaked into the kitchen where his aunt May was busy cooking breakfast.

"Good morning, Peter," she chirped, her head popped up for a second to see her nephew before looking down to watch the eggs sizzle in the pan.

"'Morning, May," he answered, rubbing his eyes. "Do we have plans for Christmas Eve this year?"

"Of course not," she responded with plenty of sarcasm to go around. "If we did, I wouldn't be in my pj's frying up eggs."

Peter slid into a chair, kicking his feet up at the seat parrell to him. "Just checking," he murmured as May plopped a plate full of eggs on dish and served it to him. "So...does that mean..."

"Sure, go ahead," inquired May, already knowing the oncoming question. "Just make sure you eat, dress warm, and try not to fall off of another building, please, Peter. Plus, be home by midnight."

"You betcha," Peter replied with a smile, hands foldeded into firing finger guns.

He got home late. He ate. He dressed warmly. Not falling off of buildings? That was not really his own fault.

It was cold, even with the extra layers under the suit. Now that his secret was out to more people than he would have liked - three...three people: Stark, Ned, and May - Peter has more people looking out for him as a hero. It's not that he was unloved before some of his closest friends - yes, he counted Tony Stark as a friend - found out he was an underage vigilante superhero with powers of a human spider.

It is just now there's a reason as to why he comes home with big black and blue splotches and of course the people closest to him would like to eliminate the threats.

Peter was currently stationed on top of a billboard. His legs dangled curiously over the icy edge with his fingertips gripping the side. A light flurry of crystal white flakes fell from the misty sky and even so, the streets of New York were busy with some last minute Christmas shoppers.

Peter watched one person in particular, covered from head to toe in thick clothes. He was pretty sure it was a girl. And he could not help but laugh as she cautiously slid across the sidewalk with her arms all the way extended. Dark brown curly hair spilled out of her coat hood.

"Hey, Karen?" Peter asked the AI after the lady walked around the block. "It's freezing out here; you think we can amp. the heat up a bit?"

"Certainly," was her reply and Peter immediately felt warm from his suit. He still had yet to figure out all the amazing add ons.

"Oh, and also," started Peter, "how low do you think people must be to commit crimes on Christmas Eve?"

"Extrmemely."

Peter cocked his head to the side, eyes pealed on a singular slow flake as it tumbled downwards. "Do you think," he started, "I should be spending this time at home with May?"

He tossed his hands in the air dramatically, legs kicking the billboard. "Actually, don't answer that. I want to but...am I just supposed to let all this crime happen? God knows the police can't do half the things I do.

"Don't respond to that either. You know what? Forget I said anything."

Karen stayed silent and Peter muttered a, "Good, thank you," to his suit.

Suddenly, his head buzzed. He looked behind him in confusion before everything clicked together. It was that blasted spider-sense that he was still getting used to; someone was in trouble. He tossed himself off of the billboard and let himself, on pure instinct, judge which direction to head to. His eyes looked up as the first web connected with a close-by building and he took off, heading straight ahead.

He did not have to go far to see the gigantic cloud of gray smoke rising from the flaming house.

Peter dropped himself on the ground, right at the front door. A woman was hunched over, coughing as she clutched her stomach. Her skin was a smooth chocolate and she had curly black hair. As soon as her eyes connected with the blue and red web-slinger, she stumbled towards him.

Peter helped her up, steading her by her shoulders. "Hey," he said a lot calmer for the situation. "Do you know if anyone is still in the house?"

The woman looked at the masked hero. "Y-yes, my daughter," she choked out, ash covering her lips. "She j-just came home."

"Alright, call the police," ordered Peter. "I'm going inside." He turned around and was about to kick the door open to slip through when the woman grabbed his arm.

"Wait!" she yelled over the fire. "S-she's upstairs. In her room."

"Okay, thank you, I'll be back with her safe and sound. I promise."

He went into the inferno as it slowing ate the home.

As soon as the door was touched by even just Peter's fingertips, it broke off the hinges. He kicked it aside and had to pause for a moment to close his eyes. Even through his mask, the smoke was so thick. It was dark and mace his eyes sting. Although now he was not cold - he was already sweating.

Right in front of his eyes was a huge flame. It seemed to grow with every passing second, weakening the second floor above. Peter wanted to go investigate the flames, wanted to see how they started to make sure it never happened again, but then he remember the woman outside almost brought to tears and he pushed forward.

He saw the staircase to his left and ran up. Immediately, the floor creaked under his weight as if the stairs would crash down at any given second. Peter continued. He just knew he had to go to the top of the stairs and turn right. He knew he had to attach his webs to the door and rip it off the handle. He did, and a puff of smoke bubbled out of the door.

There was a soft voice coming from inside of the room. As it begged for help, call Peter crazy but it sounded familiar.

Peter then heard nothing other than the flames except Karen's monotone voice enter his ear for a moment: "Cleansing your air." He did not question it.

If he squinted, he could just make out the outline of the room. It also was lit up by the fire raging outside and inches under his feet. The walls looked as if they were a dull gray, covered in posters and photos that flickered into flames. He noticed the large bookshelf in another corner. There was a bunk-bed in the corner, and the top mattress had fallen off, crushing the first. The wood holding both up was broken as well, and cracked as it fell to the floor.

Peter coughed. "Where are you?" he yelled, swatting his hand all over the place as if it would clear his vision.

He realized that Karen probably had some funky add-on in his suit to help him find whoever was trapped, or a way to remove the smoke, but he did not care. Peter cared about nothing except for the life that was on the line.

"Un-under here!" a voice yelled through the popping and crackling of the fire.

Peter moved to the bed.

He grabbed the bottom of the second mattress and immediately pulled away; the metal was burning hot. It stung his hands, through the gloves. He backed up in pain.

An idea formed into his head, although he was sure the room would not like it too much. However, that did not mean a lot, since it was currently burning down.

"Okay," he said, shocked at how unsteady his voice had become. "Close your eyes and stay still. I'm gonna get this off of you."

He guessed there was a murmured response, but Peter could not hear it as his webs connected with the bed-frame and he flung it out the window. The crash was heard from above, as well as shouts and some crying.

He looked down at the girl huddled underneath blankets to stay away from smoke and it took everything in his body not to shout her name, scold her, and hug her at the same time.

MJ's hair was frizzled in all directions. She was wearing a coat - the coat Peter quickly recognized as the one the girl who slipped earlier had on. He did not hesitate to scoop her into his arms and turn back to the door.

Now that was a bad idea if Peter ever knew one.

The floor was just about gone; burning planks stuck out of the fallen floorboard as others crackled to the ground. MJ screamed and the roof of the house shifted. Seconds later, the door frame crashed to the floor. The house was going to collapse.

He turned back to the window, now sharp edges of glass cutting out randomly.

He shot a web at the top of the window's frame with his left hand, quickly pulling on it to test the durability. It held. Next he dropped MJ, handing her the edge of another web from his right hand. He spun some extra material around her waist.

"Hold this," he demanded. "And do not let go until someone gets you from the ground."

"What?"

Peter threw her out the window.

He watched a scream ring through the air and the puff of smoke escape her lips due to the cold weather.

Her weight tugged on the string, but because Peter had connected another to the window, he was currently hanging halfway outside of its shattered pieces. His feet where on the edge of the house with his left hand going up, connecting him from hitting the floor; his right hand still had the web with MJ dangling from the edge. He spewed a bit more material so she was closer to the ground before letting go.

Wasting no time, her mother along with paramedics ran up, pulling MJ to safety.

There was the slightest smile underneath Peter's mask as he realized MJ was safe. His eyes flickered to other pedestrians on the floor, pointing in shock above. That was when he realized the heat behind and under him was becoming unbearable.

The moment he looked down at the burning house, instinct sent him sprawling away.

Bright orange flames roared from each side of the home. The window were Peter's web was stuck at had long gone crumbled away. His web was broken and he was falling to the ground.

He was not exactly sure why this stupid sense didn't warn him that the ground was so close. Maybe he was thinking about other stuff in the heat of the moment - MJ - and well, that said other stuff is not much of a threat.

Either way, the ground was about to high five Peter in the face unless he acted really quickly.

His limbs flared just for a split second before he recomposed himself. He shut his eyes, stuck his hands out and shot a web at the closest house. Immediately, he began swinging on course to smack into the house, so he let go and rolled against the snowy ground. This action slowed down his fall and took some of the impact. Plus, it looked really cool.

Peter simply laid there, his imprint marking the ground in the snow. He inhaled a deep breath did not want to open his eyes just yet. His body was burning hot and yet he was freezing cold at the same time; he was sure somewhere he had ash stuck inside the suit and possibly burn marks that bled through. His limbs ached.

But when Peter felt a presence above him, his eyes snapped open; a familiar face covered in dust and soot looked down from above - Peter almost slammed into MJ's face as he scooted away and into a sitting position.

"Oh, uh, are you okay?" she asked, taking a step back.

Peter stood up, brushing himself off. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" he inquired, cocking his head up as he leaned on his newly swept knees.

"You did just basically jump off of my house."

"I'm okay," Peter smiled as his back became straight. "You should probably go make sure you don't have smoke inhalation though."

A small smile tugged at MJ's lips. "What about you, then?"

"I already told you," Peter shrugged, about to take a step back in order to web his way out of the awkward situation, but he realized the house was behind him. It just got more awkward - at least for him knowing all identities. "I'm all good."

Peter did not know if he was all good. But he was not going to tell her that and be forced to go to a hospital.

MJ opened her mouth but turned around in embarrassment when her mother behind her was yelling for her to come over. "Sorry," she mumbled and began to walk away. Only after a few steps away did she turn around and throw a "thank you for saving me" over her shoulder.

"You're welcome," Peter whispered. But he knew she could not hear his voice. He turned around and within a second, was over four stories in the air.

Peter wanted to just run home and drink hot chocolate with his aunt before midnight, but he knew there was still trouble in the streets. Although, for some time, he just sat on the rooftop of a nearby house and just watched MJ from the ground. She was fluster and overcrowded with neighbors and medics. A few times, Peter would start up a coughing storm and MJ would glance up in his direction. He didn't know what it was that made him want to reveal his location.

When Peter left to actually finish off the night, there wasn't much more action. A little mugged woman in a ally; a weirdo trying to pick a lock with a bobby pin to break into a house. You know, the usual.

By the end of the night, he was cold again.

"Mr. Parker."

Peter blinked for a moment at the voice in his suit before coming to his senses. "Yeah, Karen?" he answered, swinging on his webs as they connected from building to building.

"I would suggest checking your lungs for smoke inhalation, as well," said the AI.

"For real?"

"Unless you would like me to phone Mr. Stark-?"

"No, no, you don't have to do that," he interrupted, panicking for a split second. This caused him to fall a few feet from the air. He swung a web out and caught the closest building to save himself. "Can't you just scan me or something?"

The AI was silent for a moment. When she answered, Peter let out a breath he did not know he was holding in. "Scan complete. You have nothing fatal."

"Thank God," he whispered. "Also, next time you're going to talk to me out of no-where like that, a warning would be nice so I don't fall to my death."

"Noted."

"Thanks."

Even though Aunt May knew the secret already, the rest of the apartment building did not. And for the most part, Peter planed to keep it that way. He knew May left the window unlocked on purpose now so he had a way to enter the home, so that's what he did. Peter found his way up to his room's window and slipped it open.

Within seconds, he crashed onto his bed. Exhaustion washed over him. Yes, he was a superhero. Yes, he had the power to do things no one else could. But he was also just a high schooler, learning everything himself. It was not like there was a published book on how to live your half spider half student life.

If there was, Peter would have memorized it. And he did look, of course, but came up empty handed.

While the suit still covered his body, most of the soot had blew off while Peter was webbing around. Other particles were much harder to get rid of. He groaned as he attempted to shrug the outfit off of him while still laying down. After a few failed motions, he finally got the suit off and tossed it on the floor for now.

Even though his body decided against it, Peter picked himself off of the bed to shut his window - he did not want May paying extra for the heat. Then as he was in the process of slipping a shirt over his head, a few quiet knocks hit his closed door.

He knew is was May, so he obliged to let her inside. When the door opened and she stepped inside, she seemed so distraught. Her phone was gripped between her fingertips. When Peter squinted to look at the electronic he made out MJ's house.

"You were in that?"

Peter flopped onto his bed. The motion made him squeal in pain due to some burns but he attempted to keep it in. "I...yes," he answered.

"God, Peter, are you okay?" May walked forward, locating the suit on the floor. She picked it up for a moment before letting it dangle to the ground again.

"Pretty sure," Peter replied. "Karen said I didn't have smoke inhalation."

"Thank the Lord," responded May. "Please take a shower, Peter, you look filthy. And..." she trailed off, looking down at her feet. "I'm just so glad you're okay. I don't know what I would do if-"

"That's not going to happen, May," interrupted Peter, pulling his aching limbs into a sitting position. "I promise."

May stayed silence as she sat on the edge of her nephew's bed. She rubbed her eyes and Peter could not tell if it was because of tears or she was tired. "I'm so proud of you. And I'm sure Ben and your parents would be too."

"I know."

"I love you."

"I love you too, May."

More silence. Peter almost jumped when he felt a hand on his knee. "It's almost two-thirty am, Peter, get some sleep."

"Okay, yes, I will."

"But take a shower first," instructed May again, standing up. She began to walk to the door. Her hand hovered above the handle to slip through and leave Peter.

"I plan on it," Peter said. "Merry Christmas, May."

Her head looked up, a smile spread across her cheeks. "Merry Christmas, Pete," May said softly and exited her nephew's bedroom.

Peter Parker did exactly as he was told.

As quietly as he could, he started the water for a shower. When it first touched his skin it was burning hot but welcomed him with open arms. He was pretty sure he spent more time just letting the liquid drip off of him than actually cleaning himself.

And although it took a lot longer than expected, Peter fell asleep. He forbid himself to get up or look at a screen. He did not have any dreams.

Christmas break flew by after that. Peter and May spent a lot more time together and he really enjoyed it. The little moments of drinking hot chocolate and getting a mustache reminded him off when times were simpler. He never realized how much he cherished the small things.

It seemed 2019 appeared in a blink of an eye. Then high school followed after once again.

Of course Peter found himself walking next to Ned on his way to lunch. And he just remembered why he too should dread it: MJ. He was going to find himself in another awkward situation. Neither of Peter's friends really knew about what happened at the burning house; Ned did not know it was MJ's and she did not know it was Peter under the mask.

After standing inline anxiously for food, Peter plopped next to Ned at their usual table. MJ did not seem to change at all: books and drawing pads were scattered in front of her, and if Peter did not throw her out of a burning house, he would of never guessed she could be basically homeless.

She looked up towards the boys when she heard the trays clatter. Leaning her head against her hand, she smirked. "So, how was your weekend, Peter?"

He felt Ned slap his leg excitingly under the table as if this conversation was a good thing. "Hot," Peter blurred out without thinking. He paused for a second. "Really warm, I mean, I wasn't cold at all."

"Nice, I think?" MJ responded. She picked her head up and let her hand hit the table. "Well my house burnt down and I was saved by y'know, Spider-Man."

Ned choked on his milk.

Peter knew he was being stared at by both of the people at his table, but he had his face in his hands. Oh, God, did she know? How did she figure it out - was it that easy to tell?

"Dude," he heard Ned whisper. "Dude, that was her house?"

Peter leaned back. He was not hungry anymore. "Yeesh, are you okay?" he asked, ignoring Ned. He immediately regretted saying "yeesh" the moment it exited his lips. Of course she was okay; she was at school. He cringed.

"Ey," MJ hummed. "Could be worse, that's for sure."

The rest of the school day passed in a blur of Ned bugging Peter for more information on the flaming house accident. He did not even notice when the last bell rang - his head was dug up in possible outcomes. And the fact that MJ most likely knew the one thing he did not want people to know. It made him feel vulnerable.

He felt even worse when she was standing at the other end of the hallway he needed to walk through.

Just as her locker closed and the pair made eye contact for a split second, Peter knew that talking to her was inevitable. She walked towards him as if she had not just lost her home; she looked confident yet carefree.

She stood in front of him. "Where'd your shadow go?"

"My what?"

"Ned."

"Oh, he has a club or something," answered Peter, shifting uncomfortably.

MJ looked to the left, down a now empty hall. "I just wanted to say," she started, "if you don't wanna be publicly known, you should change your voice."

Oh, God, she knew.

Peter felt his cheeks flush, but attempted to keep his cool. "What do you m-"

"I'm not an idiot, Parker," interrupted MJ. "In fact, now that I realize that you're Spider-Man, everything makes sense."

Before Peter could actually comprehend what he was doing, he had his hands on MJ's shoulders, pushing her back into another hallway. And he was "shh"-ing her.

When it hit him, he immedialty backed away. Peter's hands were up defensively until they drew into fists and fell by his side in frustration. "Sorry, I just-you never know who's listening," he muttered. "Please, you can not tell anyone. No body."

"Yeah, yeah, got it," MJ replied.

Peter studied her; there seemed to be a thousand questions bubbling up in her curious eyes. "Thank you," he said.

"No prob," MJ replied. "I just gotta say-" oh boy, here it comes "-how? Like, why?"

Peter shook his head. This conversation went exactly as he expected too: awful. Unlike the one with Ned, it was composed and in public with no words rushed; unlike talking with May or Stark, he was in a judge-y environment with a girl he was still completely unsure about. "Sorry, but I can't do this here," he stuttered. "Just don't tell, please. I'll own you one."

He began to walk away when he felt a hand tug at his sleeve.

"Wait," MJ began, "the smoke didn't give you any problems, did it?"

Peter faced his fellow classmate and shook his head, remembering now that Karen had cleaned the air inside his suit while inside the house. The scan she did was also negative. With his advanced healing, the burns were nothing but a minor inconvenience.

"Ah, okay, cool. I'm on medicine right now," MJ replied. "But I'm okay; some burns are fading away and I just wanted to say thank you a little more civilized."

"You're welcome."

"As in, thank you for everything you've done for everyone," rephrased MJ. "Give yourself some credit, Peter, you do a lot for this city."

"Thank you."

MJ nodded, looking as if the conversation was finished. "I'll see you around, Parker," she concluded. "Don't get yourself killed before then."

Peter was going to reply, but then she was gone and already around the hallway corner. So instead, he took a deep breath, adjusted the straps on his backpack and ran to the closest exits - excluding the main one MJ just used.

So maybe the conversation went better than he expected it to. Maybe he was prouder about his abilities and glad it happened. Either way, he knew that the words spoken would bubble around in his head as he saved the city for the day.

He smiled. Maybe he should thank Tony Stark for the suit again, just in case.

What a great way to start the new year, Peter thought.

So, hello. This is a one shot - that became a lot longer than I expected it to - for fanofthisfiction. She does so much for so many people and it's about time gets the credit she deserves! She even started a movement: the fanfiction review movement were readers pledge to spread positive criticism on all stories they read. You can learn more about it and how to join on her profile!

For fanofthisfiction: thank you so much for everything you have done! I have met wonderful people and read amazing stories through the FRM! You are a wonderful person with lovely talents! I hope you have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Happy Holidays and thank you so much for reading all the way to the end!