#“Charles you are the prettiest girl in brooklyn”

[wishchip106]

when Charles doesn’t want to get back together after being divorced for ten years:

[blublirb]

Need to Know Basis Pt. 2 | Peter Parker

A/N: Okay so the first time I posted this, it got wonky. Let’s try this again. So here is part 2! I’m really happy that you guys loved the first one! So here’s the thing. I’m gonna make a part 3. Haha. Stay tuned.

Word count: 2.4k

Tags: @immsmarvel @buckylatte @laurie-ofmoonlightandstardust @slythxr @morgannope @tiarrasmith

“You flake! You are so lucky we won.” Your attention was quickly drawn over to Liz, who had taken Ned’s phone. She scolded someone over the phone, and your mind quickly drew up a list as to who she could be talking to. “Y’know, I wanna be mad, but I’m more worried. Like, what is going on with you?” Oh. You walked over to her as Ned put his things on the conveyor belt to go through the X-Ray.

“Hey, is that Peter on the phone?”

Liz held a finger up, signalling you to wait. She argued for another second, hearing frantic pleads to put Ned back on the phone.

“Liz, come on, I wanna talk to Peter,” you stated, crossing your arms. Liz gave you a look before an attendant told her put the phone on the conveyor belt. As she did so, you heard Peter crying out and wondered what on Earth could cause him such distress. Liz and the phone went through their respective x-rays, and you followed suit. Tired of waiting, you quickly sneaked up behind Liz, grabbing the phone and holding it up to your ear as you entered the elevator.

“Hey, Pete. Where are you? We really could’ve used you at the Decathlon. You’re very lucky M.J.-- sorry, Michelle saved our asses.”

“Y/n, I really need you to hand the phone to Ned right now.”

“Well, damn, Parker, at least tell a girl you’re not interested.” You looked to the attendant as the elevator went up, not paying attention to the many boring facts she listed about the monument. “Seriously, though, where are you? We had to stick Flash at the table with us. He’s been talking about how awesome it was that we won, which, by the way, is hilarious, coming from him, seeing as he didn’t answer a single question--”

FWOOM

The elevator stopped. You put the phone to your side, looking around. Ned dropped his backpack to the middle of the floor.

“Oh my God, look at the ceiling,” Flash whimpered. You looked up. You held the phone back up to your ear as Liz told everyone to stay calm.

“I’m gonna have to call you back.” You ended the call, disregarding Peter’s yelling. You subconsciously moved closer to Ned, seeing as he was your closest friend at the moment, since M.J. wasn’t there with you.

“Oh, we’re all going to die here,” you heard Abe say. You felt fear and panic start to boil in your blood.

“Oh, we’re so screwed,” another teammate said.

Your attention was drawn to the attendant as she gathered everyone’s attention. “Okay, I know that was scary, but our safety systems are working. We’re very safe in here.” Bile rose up in your throat.

“And what happens if those fail?” You asked, not really wanting to know the answer. You tried not to imagine falling 500-something feet to your death.

“Everything will be alright. We just need to climb out of the top.” The lady motioned for Flash to help her up. He frantically moved forward, holding his hands down for her to climb up. The trap door opened, revealing guards and citizens working together to open the elevator doors. “Come on!” She said, climbing out to help others reach the top.

One by one, your teammates climbed out of the elevator. Abe, Sally, Cindy, Charles. With every person you heard snapping wires and creaking metal. You tried to steady your breathing as you stayed behind to help the others out. Blaring alarms and flashing lights didn’t exactly help.

“Okay, who’s next?” Mr. Harrington asked. You had hoped to get Ned out next, ready to push him up, when Flash rushed forward.

“Me! It’s my turn!” He hurried himself onto Harrington’s hands. He ripped the trophy from Ned’s hands.

“Man, seriously, what are you doing?” Ned asked. Flash ignored him.

“Don’t worry about the trophy!” Liz yelled. You were about to yell the same when Flash reached the top. The elevator shuddered. You gripped the rails, a small panicked scream erupting.

“Oh, God!” You muttered, horrified.

“Take my trophy!” Flash yelled. The elevator shuddered again, shaking everyone about. The urgency seemed to increase as Flash jumped up. The elevator’s ceiling broke. You, Ned, Liz, and Mr. Harrington screamed as you free-fell. You grabbed Ned’s arm and held on for dear life, your stomach plummeting. Your eyes, watered. You bowed your head, preparing yourself for the end. It reminded you of the time you went to Disneyland with your family, going to California Adventure and riding the Tower of Terror. Except, this time, there were no seats, no bars, and no theatrics.

You briefly wondered how everyone would move on without you four. Without the prettiest, kindest Senior in the school, the endearingly lame Decathlon teacher, the sweetest nerd you’d ever met, and you. You didn’t exactly know how you fit into the equation. You weren’t popular, but people knew you. You weren’t exceedingly smart, but you were on the Academic team. You were a person full of contradictions in yourself, sticking with your three friends and nothing else at Midtown School of Science and Tech. Well, one friend, to be exact. You hardly hung out with Ned and Peter. Mainly only at lunch when you sat with M.J. at the same table they sat at. M.J. was your only actual friend.

You wondered how M.J. would move on. You wondered if she would cry over you. Maybe she would let one single stoic tear fall at your funeral. Maybe she would hold your Decathlon jacket and box it up in a frame on her bedroom wall. Maybe she would save your place at your lunch table long after you stopped sitting in it. Maybe--

A jolt brought you out of your thoughts. More screaming as you felt to the floor. You felt broken glass cut into your palms and knees. Sweat fall from your hairline. You saw Liz and Ned and Mr. Harrington fall to the ground beside you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m not dead.” You let that sink in. You looked up to Ned. “We’re not dead?” He shook his head. And then you fell again. This time was less surprising, and less terrifying, like a rollercoaster you’ve been on twice already before going for another round. This time you didn’t think about those depressing thoughts. You thought about Ned. The exhausted terror in his eyes, like he didn’t want to ride the rollercoaster in the first place. You empathized with that feeling.

You didn’t scream. You let the adrenaline and fear take over, the blood boiling in your system, the plummeting stomach, the labored breathing. You took all the energy you had and reached forward, hugging Ned as close to you as possible, shutting your eyes tight. And then it stopped. You opened them just in time for Spider-Man to hit the floor in front of you, causing the elevator to go off its hinges and freefall once more. You hugged Ned even tighter, getting sick to your stomach. If the fates wanted you dead so badly, why did they have to take your friend, your classmate, and your teacher with you? And for all that is holy, why take Spider-Man with you? Why was he in Washington D.C. in the first place?

You watched as the superhero flung a web up, jumping to the monument’s ceiling and standing, upside down, on what was left of the elevator’s own ceiling.

“Hey, how you doin’?” he said in a heavy Brooklyn accent. It was so heavy, you had a fleeting thought that it was fake. But you digressed. You had no time to be analyzing New York accents. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, I gotchu.” Ned pushed you off, standing up and flailing his arms.

“Yes! Yes! Yes--”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Spider-Man yelled. “Big Guy, quit moving around!”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

You stood up, shaking. Just doing that had taken a lot of effort. You leaned on a railing. “I want off this ride. I don’t like flirting with death.” Spider-Man’s eyes widened as he looked at you, almost as if wondering why you were there. He cleared his throat.

“Don’t worry, miss. I’ll get you out of here as soon as possible.” And, with that, he started tugging on the web he held, bringing the elevator up slowly. You wished he went faster, but you figured you had no right to be ordering him about. After all, he was currently saving your life. Soon enough, he brought you to the top. Sighing in relief, you ushered Mr. Harrington and Ned out. When it got to just you and Liz, you pushed on her back.

“Go, go, I’ll be out right after you.” She complied, climbing out as soon as possible. As you took a step forward to climb out, Spider-Man flew out of the elevator. Wait, what? Your stomach dropped again, making you realize that you were falling again. Spider-Man didn’t go anywhere-- you did. You screamed, reaching your hand out to Spider-Man as he did to you. You felt something latch onto your wrist, and you wrapped your fingers around it, glad to see it was a web Spider-Man had shot out to catch you. Your legs dangled below you as you watched the elevator fall to the ground 500 feet below. You looked up to Spider-Man. “Oh my god.”

“You’re okay. You’re okay,” he replied breathlessly, pulling you up. You steadied your breathing.

“Please don’t drop me,” You pleaded.

“I won’t, I promise.” His voice held a layer of sincerity, something he didn’t have before. He let you off at the ledge. He cleared his throat again. “So, uh, is everyone okay?” He had the New York accent again. Why did he keep switching? You felt like you recognized his voice, though. You knew that voice from somewhere. But where? You nodded in response, not trusting your voice. He stared at you for a moment, as if about to say something. Then he was gone.

You quickly looked down the elevator shaft, holding onto the doors as you watched him disappear.

“Thank you!” Mr. Harrington called. A moment passed.

Flash knelt next to you, trophy in hand as he called out into the abyss. “Are you really friends with Peter Parker?” He yelled. You gave him a look and a swift smack to the shoulder.

“Are you serious right now?” He shrugged. You scoffed. “I can’t believe you.”

You were surprised when M.J. ran up to you once you hit ground level. She didn’t hug you, though. She grabbed your shoulders and looked you in the eyes, examining you. You pulled your chin back in confusion. She snorted.

“So, you’re not dead.” You rolled your eyes and wrapped her in a hug. She stood there for a moment, no doubt feeling extremely awkward in this position. She hesitantly pat you on the back a total of three times. You pulled away.

“No, but I seriously thought I was going to be.” She held her breath, then sighed, rubbing your head.

“You look like shit. I’m glad you’re not dead.” You chuckled as she turned and walked away. You figured that was the closest to affectionate she was going to get. She stopped and turned to you. “Are you coming?” You jogged to catch up with her, messing with your hair. There was definitely small dirt and glass in there. You promised yourself to take a shower later and put your hair in a ponytail in the meantime.

The bus ride home was silent. The kids weren’t up for talking, mostly. The rare times they did, they were calling their parents to confirm they were safe. You had been at M.J.’s for the past few days, as your parents were on a field trip, so you weren’t expecting a phone call. Needless to say, you were pleasantly surprised when your phone rang. You looked at your screen. Mom. You looked around, seeing M.J. asleep next to you, and Peter and Ned in the seats across the aisle. No one was really paying attention, so you answered your phone. It’s not that you were embarrassed to call your mom. You just didn’t like people eavesdropping.

“Hey, mom,” you answered.

“Oh my god, are you okay? We saw everything on the news. You weren’t up there, were you? Are you okay? What happened?” You heard the familiar voice rant. You rubbed the bridge of your nose.

“Ma, I’m fine. Yeah, I was up there in the elevator. No, I’m not hurt. Just a few scrapes and bruises. I’ll tell you everything when you get home.” You thought for a moment. “When are you coming home?” She sighed.

“Good, good, you’re not hurt. Um, your father and I are scheduled to stay at the business retreat for another week, but I’m sure we can get home a few days early if you need us. Do you want us home?”

“No, no, I’m okay. I promise. I can stay at M.J.’s a little longer, if she’ll let me.” You heard M.J. shuffle next to you. She didn’t open her eyes, but you could tell she was conscious.

“I’ll have to ask my dad. He’s visiting my aunt this weekend, leaving tonight, and he doesn’t like friends over when he’s gone,” she mumbled. You sighed. You felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw Peter leaning over the aisle.

“You can stay at my place, if you want. I’m sure Aunt May won’t mind.” You gave him a grateful smile, despite the fact he obviously eavesdropped. Maybe you were just talking too loud.

“Thanks,” you turned to your phone. “Mom, I’ll stay at Peter’s tonight. I don’t really feel like going home just yet.” Ned perked up from behind Peter.

“Dude, can I stay, too?” Peter chuckled a little, and it took all your willpower not to focus on it. Peter agreed, sending Ned into planning mode, ranting about a movie marathon and things. M.J. sat up, peering across the aisle.

“Count me in, too, loser. I’m not leaving Y/n alone with a bunch of nerds.”

You ignored them, trying to focus on your phone. “Yeah, mom, I’ll be okay. M.J.’s coming, too, so I won’t be alone with boys.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You have fun with Dad. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Bye.” And with that, you turned to the boys. “So what’s this I hear about a movie marathon?”

[murrayoneil123]

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