Title: the things that time cannot mend

Summary: "Sometimes he wishes he could go back in time and change everything that has happened." In which help comes from the most unexpected places (or people).

Disclaimer: I am not associated with Marvel and make no profit from any of what I am posting.

Inspired By: Anon Ask to benitabuttrel on Tumblr

Warning: Infinity War Spoilers, depression, implied character death(s)

Set after Avengers 4 so this is my interpretation of the events that take place

or the things that time does mend

"We will be who we are

And they'll heal our scars

Sadness will be far away"

― Learn Me Right, Brave

It all feels the same.

The bus, Ned sitting behind him and the rest of the team talking loudly over the music they're blasting. The uncomfortable prickle on his arms and a gut feeling that tells him something is wrong. He looks up, half expecting to spot the doughnut spaceship. Hell, he's practically hoping for it, his mind convinced that they've gone back in time. That this is a second chance. His second chance.

Instead, Peter's greeted by smoke and flame.

The seat next to him sags under a new weight and even without looking, he knows it's MJ. She's facing the back, one leg tucked under her and the other hanging off the side of the seat.

"He's thinking about it, isn't he?" Ned asks.

MJ nods. "Definitely."

Peter closes his eyes, presses his hands over his ears trying to block out the voices in his head - things he can hear from miles away. They're still watching him, probably having a silent conversation between themselves. "I can't," he croaks.

"You don't want to," MJ corrects. "You don't have to either, but you can."

His eyes brim with tears and he brushes them away swiftly, blinking back any that threaten to fall. He's so scared, Peter thinks. He knows what he should do, what's right and wrong, but his heart is pounding against his chest and he's not sure he's ready. He looks up, eyes finding Michelle's. "I'm sorry."

They share a look again like they're trying to decide what's best for him.

"I have headphones," Ned says. "You can wear them if it helps."

"I thought you wanted me to - "

"We're not going to force you."

He sighs, runs a hand through his hair, looking out of the window again. People might get hurt. They might die. Just the thought gives him goosebumps. If something goes wrong, Peter thinks, it'll be on him.

"I should."

They don't reply.

"I - I don't have a suit." Just the web-shooters that he never takes off.

MJ grins wickedly and even Ned looks excited. He's suddenly being drowned in a red hoodie with Michelle wrapping her blue scarf around his face. It's not much, Peter thinks heart hammering against his chest but he's terrified and excited as well as being uncomfortable. He's as ready as he'll ever be.

There's a girl in the building, maybe five years old, hugging a table leg. She looks up when he arrives, tears spilling from her eyes.

"Spider-Man?"

He nods, smiles. "Yeah."

She lets go of the table and runs to him, wrapping her arms around him as best as she can. "I'm scared."

"Wanna know a secret?" She nods, eyes still brimming with tears. "So am I."

"Is it weird that I enjoyed it?"

He's with Michelle again, sitting on the hotel roof. Ned fell asleep an hour ago and May finished interrogating him around ten. The news channels are yet to stop talking about him but he's trying not to think about that.

"Depends. What part?"

He shrugs. "The swinging from building to building part. The saving people part. Mostly the part where nobody died."

She looks at him, a smile on her lips. "It's who you are. You're allowed to enjoy it."

A lot has changed since last time, Peter thinks, leaning backwards and swinging his legs back and forth. He's accepted Mr. Stark's death (or accepted it as much as he can be expected to) and it's foolish but he's proud of himself for that. Just as he's proud of himself for not freezing up today, or, hell, for stepping out of the bus when every cell in his body had been telling him not to.

There are still nightmares and days when he can remember the shooting pain creeping into his heart. But there are also days when he laughs and makes Ned laugh. Days when he feels like he's moving on and learning to live again.

"Thanks."

MJ raises an eyebrow, the tips of her lips still quirked up. "What for?"

"For being there when I felt lonely, for showing me that I wasn't alone. For understanding and - " He falters, searching for the right words but they don't seem to come to him. How do you thank someone who makes you feel alive even when you're at your lowest? "For everything."

She tilts her neck backwards, laughs.

"What?" he asks, whining as he says it.

"Wasn't expecting a speech, Peter. You're welcome. I think."

He turns away from her, eyes landing on the horizon. It's beginning to sink in now, Peter thinks, what all the reporters have been saying. He has a choice to let Spider-Man come back for real or to keep him buried. May says she's fine as long as he stays alive and there's little doubt in Peter's mind that MJ and Ned will support him no matter what he decides on.

And he's ready, Peter thinks. He wants to help out when he's needed and do the right thing. That's always been a part of him, of Peter. So, maybe it's time Spider-Man returned. Just so that he can go back to helping out.

"How do you feel about - " Her phone flashes and MJ glances down. "Fuck."

"What?"

"Harrington's doing rounds."

He blinks. "Oh." They'll be caught if they use the stairs. There's no way they'll make it to their rooms without being spotted unless - He adjusts his sleeve, linking arms with Michelle, a new found confidence bubbling through his veins. It's a terrible idea.

"Peter?" she asks.

He grins at her. "Trust me. Which one's your balcony?"

She frowns at him. "With the chairs outside. Not that I consent to this."

"You'll want to hold on, you know." He closes one eye and aims at the rails as MJ scoots closer carefully wrapping an arm around him. His heart is pounding against his chest again and Peter doesn't think it's because he's using his web-shooters.

It takes them all of five seconds to land. Five seconds for Michelle to let go of him and to shake her head, giving him a sort of exasperated smile. And, then, five more seconds for her to grab his collars and press her lips to his.

Or maybe it's more than five seconds.

God, he wishes it were more than five seconds.

Peter squeaks against her and Michelle lets go, ducking her face behind her hair.

"Goodnight Peter," she says, turning away. He can barely hear the smile in her voice above the roar of blood rushing to his cheeks.

Goodnight, he thinks, but the words never leave him. His heart is still hammering against his chest, a wide grin spread across his lips.

Tomorrow, Peter thinks, will be different. A good type of different.

This went through nine drafts, help.

I don't remember the last time I struggled this much to find a character's voice but it took forever for Peter's thoughts, and dialogue, to feel right. A lot of that might have had to do with the setting and way too many cliches including a fall into the swimming pool scene. I know. It was almost that bad.

Anyway, here we are! I'm happy with how this ended. Happy I could squeeze in a peck on the lips though it was, at some point, going to be a proper kiss ;)

Hope you guys enjoyed this! Feel free to leave a review down below or message me via Tumblr (WizardingAesthetics) your opinions mean the world to me and do make my day!

Thanks for reading!