Chapter Text
Empire State University
New York City, New York
October…
The campus isn’t what it used to be. It’s open, technically, but half the buildings are under repair. Scaffolding climbs the sides of lecture halls. Temporary structures fill the green spaces. Students walk around construction zones like it’s normal, because now, it is.
Much of New York is in some state of construction. There are chunks of the city that fared better than others during the Darkseid War, and there are areas that fared far, far worse, yet it’s rare to pass more than a few blocks without walking under scaffolds, cranes and tarps. There are entire streets cut off by rubble removal efforts. If New York traffic was a problem before the War, it is worse than ever now.
Peter stands at the edge of campus, his backpack slung over one shoulder, watching the crowd. Students laugh, complain, check their phones, argue about classes. No one is talking about Darkseid. It’s so strange that only a few weeks ago, the world was a warzone. How quickly people can just bounce back to normal boggles his mind. He still finds himself scanning the skies for Parademons, even now, on a sunny October day.
It’s the first week of classes. The start of semester had been delayed but, somehow, the campus had reopened. Somehow, life had begun to spin back to a shape of what it was before.
Still, it isn’t entirely normal. As Peter enters his first lecture hall, he discovers that it is half full. It isn’t because people chose not to show, or that the class was unpopular, but because so many people still couldn’t return to the way things were meant to be. The dead, the injured, the broken, the recovering. Somehow, the empty seats still feel full.
Peter slips into a chair near the middle, his notebook out, trying very hard to just be a student. Over the next few minutes, he spots familiar faces. A few rows ahead, near the front row, he sees the back of Ned Leed’s head. He considers saying hi for a moment, and then doesn’t. Their friendship is still on the rocks. Then, a few minutes after Peter sits down, he feels a hand on his shoulder from behind.
“Hey, Pete,” Flash says. “Could you do me a favor in the room and put all your snack food in a drawer or something? I’m on a strict diet and I’d rather not be tempted.”
Peter turns and glances at Flash Thompson. They’re rooming together in the dorms here on campus. He hadn’t realized that Flash was in this lecture. There’s a lot less levity in Flash’s voice these days. He’s less happy-go-lucky, a lot more serious. Even sports don’t quite work for him anymore. He seems bigger, more mature, but less himself.
At least, he’s less the self I knew before he was shooting Parademons out of the sky, Peter thinks. He’s found army pamphlets in their room since move in day. He wonders how long Flash will be around school for.
“Sure thing, Flash,” Peter says.
The doors at the front of the lecture hall open, and a slight man in a white labcoat and glasses enters the room. One of the sleeves of his labcoat is rolled up and pinned, revealing that he is missing one arm from just below the shoulder. He sets down his messenger bag on the desk at the front of the hall and scans the room.
“Hello everyone,” he says. “I wish I could say I was surprised by the turnout, but I suppose this is what we should expect this year. Welcome to Biochemistry 101. I am Dr. Curt Connors. This course will be your introduction to a fascinating field of study. I should hope you are all taking this course in conjunction with other introductory sciences, particularly chemistry and biology courses. Biochem 101 will give you some understanding of the necessary basics, but an understanding of the more specific components of the field will aid you greatly.”
He turns and walks to the whiteboard and grabs a marker with his lone hand. He pops the cap with his teeth and writes.
CELLULAR REGENERATION & ADAPTIVE SYSTEMS
Peter leans forward, immediately engaged. Connors glances at the class.
“My field of research is in the limits of natural healing and cellular growth,” he says. “I will frame much of this course around this concept as a foundation that we can refer back to. Some of this material may strain the confines of an introductory course, but if you can track along with me, I am always looking for bright up-and-coming minds to aid me in my research. There is substantial room for learning if you are willing to expand your minds.”
The lecture begins in earnest. Given that it is the first day, Curt Connors goes over the syllabus and begins touching on various key terms. At the end of the class, students file out, talking about assignments, already complaining. Peter lingers, looking at the board and the syllabus.
Connors notices. “Class is over, Mister….”
Peter turns. “Yeah…uh…Parker, sir. Peter Parker. Regenerative systems. That’s…really interesting. I’ve been looking into insectile and arachnid healing lately…”
Connors studies him for a moment, then smiles. He gathers his notes. “You have a background in biology? Why the interest in invertebrates?”
Peter hesitates. “…personal interest. But I do have a bit of a biology background. I’ll be honest, though, chemistry is my strong suit. And engineering. I’m taking as broad a set of sciences as I can this year.”
Connors nods. “Good. That’s a smart move, Mr. Parker. A diversity of knowledge in science is useful. All disciplines link back to each other eventually.”
“Yes, Dr. Connors,” Peter nods.
“I look forward to seeing your work this semester, Mr. Parker,” Connors says, then he gathers his bag. “I hope your mind is as bright as your interest.”
He leaves.
After his classes for the day, Peter sneaks off to a quiet corner of the campus. There are a lot of them, hiding under construction tarps and dark back passages. He pulls his suit out of his backpack and starts pulling it on. The armor he wore in the War was practically destroyed, but he’d worked with Bruce to put together a new suit that kept some of the best features of the armor without the bulk. The upgraded webshooters, the glider, the internal temperature control. He and Tim had snuck in a Bluetooth connection to the mask HUD in the designs so Peter could make and take calls and listen to music through his mask. Peter figured Bruce knew, but he didn’t say anything.
Peter pulls the suit on and webs his backpack to a high, isolated corner, then swings off on patrol. The city has been busy. The War has people to come together like Peter has never seen before, but it has also caused the criminals to come out of the woodwork. The authorities are pulled thin, and entire sections of the city are condemned and under ARGUS control. The criminal element has come out of the woodwork in force, and Spider-Man has been busy.
He stops a robbery at a corner deli, catches a drunk driver speeding across the sidewalk near the Bugle, helps an old man with a hip replacement up his apartment stairs. No Parademons. No gods. No cosmic stakes.
The neighborhood is a bit less friendly but Spidey doesn’t have to be.
He gets a call and he answers through his mask. “Hey, MJ. How was the shoot?”
“Pretty good,” MJ says. “I don’t think I embarrassed myself.”
“Oh, no way you embarrassed yourself,” Spidey swings low over a street and snags a runaway cap blown by the wind and hands it off to to the panicking teenager on the edge of the busy street who is looking for it. “You’re Mary Jane Watson, the most beautiful and talented model in New York City…”
“Flatterer,” MJ says. “I’ve been doing it for like two weeks.”
“A meteoric ascent, my love,” Spidey says. “They’ll write biographies on you.”
“Stop,” MJ laughs.”How was your first day of classes?”
“Fine,” Peter says. “Nothing to write home about. Syllabi, introductions, all that stuff.”
“Do you want to come over after your patrol?” MJ asks.
“I do have to spend the occasional night in the dorm,” Spidey says. “But yeah, tonight isn’t that night. I’ll be by.”
“I’ll see you later then,” MJ says. “Oh, and Venom says to be careful out there.”
“You know I hate when you speak for it over the phone,” Peter grimaces.
“Would you rather be bonded to them?” MJ asks.
“Fine, okay,” Peter says. He rolls his eyes behind his mask. “Tell it I’m being very careful.”
“They can hear,” Mj says. “Love ya. See you soon."
“Love you too.”
Mary Jane Watson’s Apartment
Queens, New York City, New York
Later…
Peter lands lightly on the rooftop. MJ is already waiting in a lawn chair on the roof in Wonder Woman pajamas and a Soundgarden t-shirt. She smiles at him and pops her ear buds out.
“You’re late,” she says.
“We never set a time,” Peter says quizzically.
“Yeah, well,” MJ stands and shrugs. “I missed you and wanted to see you an hour ago.”
She steps in and rolls up his mask and kisses him. Peter wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her tight to him. The kiss goes on until Peter feels movement along his shoulder. He opens his eyes and glances over to see tendrils of the Symbiote reaching off of her body to caress him lightly.
Peter pulls back slightly. “Hey,” he says. “We have rules, remember.”
He’s not speaking to MJ, but to the Symbiote. The inky mass coalesces to a second head off of MJ’s shoulder. It looks appropriately chastised.
“Sorry,” Venom says, then retreats back, vanishing against MJ. Peter lets go of her waist and steps back with a sigh, pulling off his mask and rubbing his face.
“It really needs to learn,” he says. “Boundaries are boundaries.”
MJ sighs. Her face is flushed. “We don’t have many other options. They want to be close to you. You either bond to them or we let them stay bonded to me. That’s the choices we have.”
“I just don’t love the psycho-sexual implications of a monster that views me as its creator…stroking me,” Peter says.
“They promise to stop,” MJ replies.
“It promised that last week,” Peter sighs. “It’s fine. Let’s head inside.”
Peter takes his hand and they head towards MJ’s apartment. They carefully check the stairwell and hall to make sure no one sees Peter unmasked but in costume, then dart into her place.
“Maybe it needs an outlet,” Peter suggests. “To burn off some of that energy. Like a dog. Or a toddler.”
“Like what?” MJ asks.
“You could go on patrol with me,” Peter suggests. As the door closes behind him, he starts tugging off his costume. MJ helps him remove the shirt.
“It’s hard enough to keep them from eating stray cats and stuff when I’m not letting them indulge in violence,” MJ says. “I already have to feed them pigeons and stuff.”
“I know, it’s constantly up in your head,” Peter sighs. “You have a lot of work keeping it steady. But it would be a good way for us to spend more time together.”
MJ smiles. She traces the lines of Peter’s chest with a finger. “You’ve been missing me too?”
“Obviously,” Peter grins. “You know how hard it is to focus on the syllabus for an introductory engineering course when you have a smoking hot model waiting for you?”
“Smoking hot, huh?” MJ kisses his collarbone.
Peter grabs her hips. “Ten out of ten. Drop dead gorgeous. Sexy as hell.”
MJ turns and walks towards her bed, pulling her shirt off. “Come on then, tiger. Show me what’s been so distracting.”
Later, they are spooning on her bed. Peter traces the line of her hip with his fingers. “I’m serious, by the way.”
“Mmm?” MJ says in a half doze.
“You could patrol with me if you want,” he says. “It would be nice to have the company.”
She rolls over in his arms so they are nose to nose. “Look, Peter. I’ll fight if I need to, and you know I’m always there if you need me, but I’m serious too. Venom is always up in my head and it takes a lot of work to keep some of their worst impulses at bay. I really don’t think I can manage it if I’m pummeling muggers and stuff.”
Peter sighs. “Yeah, you’re right.”
He rolls onto his back. MJ puts her head on his chest. “You seem anxious,” she says.
“I guess I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Peter says. “The past year has been one thing after another after another. I guess I’m waiting for the next big thing.”
She cuddles tighter to his side. “Do you want there to be a next big thing? I would think you’d like the relative quiet after Darkseid…”
“I don’t want the next thing, no,” Peter says. “But I think I’m just keyed up, you know? My adrenaline hasn’t had a come down in awhile.”
“How about we take October slow?” MJ says. “A nice, soft autumn. We can drink cider, go to a pumpkin patch, work on a couples costume for Halloween, all that silly stuff. Get some of that energy out.”
“Like a dog or a toddler?” Peter says.
MJ laughs. “Like a dog or a toddler.”
“That sounds nice,” Peter says. He closes his eyes, and soon they drift off.