Title: Joint Souls and Bruised Bodies

Summary: In which soulmates share each other's pain; Peter Parker gets into just as many fights as you'd expect a superhero to and Michelle Jones is convinced that her soulmate is dying. Follows the events of Homecoming. Soulmate AU.

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

Joint Souls and Bruised Bodies

Chapter 1

He crashes into a wall and falls on the ground, weight landing on his left arm.

Michelle feels the twist and the tug. She feels the sharp pain that shoots through him, scorching her from the inside. If she focuses enough, she can picture him, curled up on the ground and holding his aching arm to his chest.

Bang! (She winces.) Bang! (She winces, again.) Bang! (She wonders what he's doing — if he's okay.)

Something hits his head. His feet hit the ground awkwardly.

And then it stops.

She's lost her page in the book and, perhaps, in another life, that would have been her biggest problem. Instead, she presses her trembling palms to her face, ignoring the sharp pain in her lungs and the dull ache at the back of her head.

He's okay, she tells herself.

He has to be.

Her earliest memory of the link is from when she was five. Michelle remembers sitting at the table, watching her Mom cook while she described some absurd incident from school and, all of a sudden, she couldn't stop crying.

At five, nothing had ever hurt more.

Right now, Michelle thinks she might be worse off.

(That he might be worse off.)

She's at Liz's party when it happens again.

One moment she's standing at the back, sniffing her suspiciously coloured drink and rolling her eyes at Flash. The next, she feels him fall, and it's almost as though her own chin slams against the ground, head vibrating and her vision blurring for a moment.

It only gets worse.

She feels him drag against the ground, his arms straining and his knees scraped. She feels the way he hits the ground, the way it makes his sides ache. She tries to close her eyes and picture him right now, but she can't.

It doesn't make sense.

It hasn't made sense for a while now.

She doesn't remember rushing to the washroom, but the next thing she knows, she's turned on the faucet and has pressed her palms to her ears wishing she could block it all out. Wishing she could block him out.

She wants to worry about him.

She wants to tell her Mom that her soulmate gets beaten every day. That she's sure he's covered in scars and bruises with broken bones and aching ribs. She wants to tell someone that they need to find him. That they need to protect him.

Michelle only feels a fraction of his pain, and it hurts so fucking much.

She doesn't know how he bears it.

How he's survived so long.

She's not sure she wants to know.

Before, she used to picture bullies, pinning him against a locker and beating him senseless. Now, she wonders if he starts the fights, or if he's dragged into them. She wonders if his parents know. (How could they not?)

She wants him to be smart. She wants him to be kind and sweet and funny. She wants to be able to talk to him and tell him things. She wants to surprise her. To be different. To be himself. She wants to trust him and love him, but she doesn't even know who she is.

(She never might.)

She can only hope that his life gets better. That the beating he receives stop. That his bruises get time to heal; because Michelle's not sure she could save them both from drowning. Not when she can barely swim on her own.

She stands up. Turns the faucet off.

Her hands are still trembling, but she feels better. Calmer.

Smack!

She feels the pain all over. It sends a chill down her spine, burns against her skin and seems to seep into her bones. Nothing has ever hurt more.

She takes a step backwards. Her legs give way again.

It feels as though someone has taken hold of Michelle's lungs.

As though they're not letting go.

She can't breathe.

She just — can't.

And then it's back. Her lungs clear and Michelle gasps for air. The world comes back into views and, hastily, Michelle wipes her tears away.

Someone bangs their fist against the door.

Michelle stands. Washes her face.

Nobody notices when she leaves.

Except:

Peter Parker is standing outside Liz's house, hoodie pulled over his head and hands buried in his pockets. He looks up when she closes the door behind her, face scrunched up like he's trying to raise an eyebrow at her but can't.

"Hey," he says brightly. "Leaving early?"

"Compared to you? I'd say not really."

He grimaces and, for a moment, his gaze focuses on the ground as though there's something else on his mind. Michelle should ask why he left. She almost asks why he's waiting outside like a creep.

But her body is still burning from a pain that isn't hers, and she's not sure if she wants to talk to Peter Parker right now.

She's not entirely sure he wants to talk to her either.

But:

"Hey, you're close to Liz, right?" His shoulder bumps against hers and, for some reason, Peter starts walking with her "I mean, I know your Moms are friends. Or something."

"If that's your definition of close, then sure. We're practically soulmates."

She's being rude. Michelle can hear the bitterness in her own voice, and she sees the way it hits Peter. The way it makes him stare at her a little longer. It's like he doesn't know if she's mad at him or if she's cracking a joke. His eyes are narrowed, his lips parted. He looks so confused.

"I'm kidding," Michelle says quickly, and she nudges her shoulder against his for good measure.

My soulmate is a dick, she wants to explain because she knows that Peter listens; That he'd care. Instead, she plays it safe and tells Peter Parker exactly what he wants to hear: "We're friends."

His eyes brighten. "Oh. Oh okay. That — I — I just — Do you think she'd be really mad about today?"

Michelle thinks of Liz peeping into every room and asking for Peter Parker. She thinks of Ned sitting on the couch and attempting to call Peter over and over again. She thinks of Flash, thoroughly enjoying the situation.

"I think she's getting used to it. I think we all are."

He crinkles his brow, gaze landing on the footpath again. "Oh," he says quietly, and Michelle lets him be for a moment.

She knows her words aren't comforting, but nobody's ever come to her for comfort. Michelle's known for her blunt remarks and honest opinions. She's not rude like Flash, but she doesn't sugarcoat like Liz either.

Plus, Peter recovers, and soon enough he's telling her about the lego he's supposed to build with Ned and asking her how she manages to read so many books. He walks her all the way to the bus stand and, when, half an hour later, there's still no sign of the bus, he walks her home.

Liz is lucky, Michelle decides when she waves him off from her doorstep. Boys like Peter Parker are hard to find. His soulmate, she decides, is even luckier.

Wrote this a while ago, but never put it up.

I think I like writing both Michelle and Peter being broken and soulmates sharing pain (especially when one half is a superhero who is constantly getting beat up) is a great way to write about suffering!

Hope you like this, there is more to come!

I have the next couple of Chapters written, but depending on how long it takes to edit I'll update every week/ alternate week.

Please leave a review if you're free, they always make my day and make me the happiest person alive :-)