Spideychelle one-shots

Wishes Pt. 6

Peter

When they had brought MJ in, still damp from the rain, her bag slipping from her shoulder, Peter felt his heart break.

If he lost one more person - no. He couldn't let himself think like that. MJ was his everything, and he would not lose her. He couldn't.

Which was why he needed a plan. A plan that didn't involve her getting hurt.

Carnival had put his gag back in, tying the still unconscious MJ to a chair before leaving them alone. Well, alone if you didn't count the dozen highly armed guards and the many security cameras that undoubtedly filled the warehouse.

Peter could fight, but without his suit, these guys would take him down in no time. Not to mention MJ; there was no way he could protect her and fight his way out at the same time.

She had escaped from Carnival before; how had she done it? He wracked his brains, trying to remember what she said.

The element of surprise, probably. Carnival didn't think she would fight. He had underestimated her, and that had been his fatal error. Maybe Peter had been underestimating her too.

MJ would be a powerful ally, if she would just wake up!

"MJ," he whispered, nudging her with his foot. "MJ, come on. You gotta wake up. MJ, please."

She made a sleepy little noise, and Peter's heart broke even more. He remembered, then; remembered what it was like to wake up with her in the morning, to pull her close, burying his face in her hair. Sun-kissed blankets, and a ridiculous amount of pillows, and MJ; that's what his mornings used to be.

Before.

"MJ, please," he pleaded. "You have to wake up, darling, come on."

He still remembered the first time they woke up together. She'd been over late, studying, and she'd fallen asleep on the couch, all long limbs and snoring and hair, and Peter had gone to wake her up. But she'd opened those eyes of hers, soft with sleep and what he now knew was love, and she'd asked to stay.

"Just to sleep," she'd said, her eyes wide. "Not anything else, at least not yet."

And looking at her, Peter had been sure that his heart would burst. She'd scootched over, and he'd lain beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She had turned to him, burying her face in his shoulder and he'd fallen asleep knowing that this was the happiest he'd been in a long time.

She was his happiness, and he couldn't imagine living without her.

MJ

She woke up slowly. The sound of water dripping, slow and steady, was the first thing to permeate her consciousness. Rope chafed her wrists and cold metal pressed between her shoulder blades.

The pounding in her head was drowned out, barely, by the beating of her heart.

What had happened? It felt like her head was filled with clouds. Her throat was dry, her tongue swollen and clumsy in the dusty cavern of her mouth.

Someone was calling her name.

"Peter?" she murmured, prying her sticky eyelids open. Memory rushed back in with the light, her pounding head protesting. The phone call. The rain. They'd grabbed her and brought back here, back to the place of her nightmares.

"MJ, thank god. Are you okay?" Peter asked, twisting to get as close to her as possible.

She blinked a few times, and then managed, "I'm okay."