Silver Lining

and no more lies

Hayden felt like shit. Dull throbbing assaulted him from the back off his head, his eyelids closing and opening lethargically.

The hero had thrown a fuss as soon as they'd gotten home, repeatedly asking if Hayden had been beat up by someone that would need a stern talking to by the vigilante. It had strongly reminded him of his mom demanding the name of the guy that had given him a black eye when he was seven. There had, in fact, not been another guy. Hayden had just been too embarrassed to tell his mom he'd stolen her boots to play with the calves and had, in the process, tripped and fallen into the empty through.

Her and dad had laughed a lot about it when he'd told them about this a few year later.

" 'm fine, okay? Lemme sleep?", he mumbled, burying his face deeper into the pillows. Matter of factly, the bruises he was sporting were kinda hurting, but he graciously chose to ignore that. Peter sighed.

"You know I'm being this annoying because I care about you, right?", the hero asked as he threaded his fingers through Haydens locks. Said brunette hummed, whether that be in content or out of annoyance. Leaning down, a gentle kiss was pressed into his hair. The quiet mumble following went almost unheard.

"Gotta go. Love you."

Haydens breath hitched in his throat. In a somewhat clumsy motion he turned, wrapping his arms around the vigilantes neck as he was still leaning over him. Caught off guard Peter yelped in surprise, only barely managing to catch himself from outright falling on top of his other.

"Whoa there, easy!", he laughed, startled. Brown eyes crinkled in happiness as he drew the hero closer, burying his face in the crook of his neck instead of the pillow. Hmm, maybe this whole 'sick' thing wasn't too bad.

Unbeknownst to the two of them, Haydens phone vibrated, a message popping up on screen.

"4:30 at ESU, bring ur boyfriend 👁"

_______________________________________

Peter was grinning from ear to ear, and he was almost positive that nothing in this world could change that fact at the moment.

Letting out a joyous yell he shot another web from his wrist onto the adjacent building, the momentum carrying him higher and higher every second. The weightlessness he experienced at the apex of every swing felt almost akin to the feelings bubbling about his entire body when he thought of him.

Falling down was even better, as the adrenaline - desensitized due to several years of this - suddenly started pumping again, his skin feeling like he was inside a hurricane. Peter loved it.

Well, as much as he'd wanted to swing a little longer, he'd certainly promised MJ to meet her at F.E.A.S.T. and he didn't want to know what would happen if he was a no-show.

So, off to F.E.A.S.T. it was!

_______________________________________

"You're such an ass, you know that?", MJ slammed the door, walking over to where the the hero was perched on the buildings ledge. The box he'd borrowed from Martin's office stood next to him, having still not been opened. He probably should've done that earlier, but rewinding time really wasn't his strong suit.

Said hero chuckled as he prepared to dodge the incoming smack on his shoulder. Well, tried to.

He stumbled slightly, but caught himself almost immediately.

"Ow!", the vigilante feigned hurt. "What was that for?"

Huffing, his friend sat down next to him, arms crossed and looking slightly annoyed.

"That was for hanging up on me yesterday, you nerd!", she complained as she shoved him once more. However, a tiny smile crept onto her face, which told him she couldn't be that mad.

Peter rolled his eyes. Fondly.

"Sorry MJ. But I'm here now, so this counts as something, right?"

The redhead huffed again. After a few seconds, she seemed to have decided.

"Alright, fine. But don't pull that shit with me again, Mister, capiche?" He saluted playfully, earning another shove. "You- stop it! I'm trying to tell you about the stuff I found at Tombstones'!"

Ah, right.

"The trackers?"

"Shut up. You wanna have them or not?"

Yeah, he did wanna them. They should also probably look into the box.

"Tell you what,", he started, trying to win his friend over. At least it seemed as if she was listening. "You give me the trackers and we look into Martin's stuff together, okay?"

_______________________________________

"Is there a name for when people have a problem with Norman Osborn? Because that seems to be pretty common right now."

MJ snorted from where she sat next to him, nose still buried in a manila folder.

"I don't think you can ask your boss or any of the protesters that." She thought for a minute, the expression on her face unreadable. "Nommy issues?"

Peter choked on thin air, almost losing hold of the tracker he was holding and dropping it.

"Never say that again. Never."

The redhead guffawed loudly, smacking her friend with the folder repeatedly.

"You asked!", she screeched as they both doubled over. It... took a good amount of time for them to both calm down again.

"So,", Peter chuckled, his face still red. (Due to the fact that he still wore his mask, MJ wasn't aware of this, but you as readers, listening to an omnipotent narrator, are.) "Find anything?"

"I did, actually." Her smile was triumphant. "So: Osborn definitely has something to do with it. They're talking about some guy called Standish here, give me your phone real quick."

The vigilante did as told, waiting patiently as MJ typed, her brow furrowing in concentration.

"Okay.... so apparently, this Standish guy is Osborns CF- is- is that your police scanner?"

She passed the phone back to Peter, it just having started to beep quietly, several alarms popping up on screen.

"Yeah but- don't tell me his name is Charles Standish!" To his dismay, MJ nodded. The hero cursed quietly under his breath.

"Ah, I gotta go, I'm so sorry MJ, I'll make it up to you! Promise!", he apologized as he frantically helped her stuff everything back in the small package, including the trackers. She gave him an amused smile, thankfully not mad about being stood up again.

Well, she wasn't being stood up in particular. Maybe stood up light. Yeah that fit better.

"Get it tiger, I'll go sell that here on eBay."

Peter saluted and promptly leapt off of the building. He had to hurry, after all.

_______________________________________

"Yuri! I'm almost at Standishs', what's the situation?"

The police captain huffed, obviously agitated.

"Bad. The demons took over the entire building and they're blocking the elevators. We're also butting heads with Sable here so getting in over the roof or shit is not looking good. They're not on the west side yet, so try to get in through the parking garage. 'm pretty sure Simpson and Cindy are still there with their cruiser, they'll lot you through."

Peter was getting closer to the building. Smoke was billowing upwards from what seemed to be a lower floor, yet several cars made it almost impossible for the firefighters to get through. That and the handful of Demons actively shooting at them.

Oh, come on!