If We Must - Fully Rewritten

Chapter 8

The hammock tipped precariously and Peter's neck prickled moments before the rest of the webs began to fall away.

Both of them yelled in surprise as the hammock gave way under them, but true to his word, Peter managed to keep them from hitting the ground. His arm tightened around MJ and he shot a web at the ceiling in a panic, leaving them hanging a few feet from the ground. The jolt sent an ache through his shoulder and MJ was breathing heavily, but Peter considered it a success.

"That―" MJ gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist even tighter― "is exactly why I don't like web hammocks."

"I caught us," Peter said defensively. He let go of the web he'd shot to catch them and they dropped the remaining two feet to the ground, but MJ didn't loosen her hold on him. "I told you that you wouldn't fa―"

"Don't you dare," she hissed in his ear. Peter chuckled as she unwrapped her legs from around him. "Never again, Parker, you hear me?"

He heard her, but he also heard something down the hall for the first time since Mr. Hide-A-Name had come to take his blood hours ago.

"They're coming back," he whispered, pushing MJ behind him and throwing an arm out in front of her.

His eyes flickered over to where Mr. Hide-A-Name's gun was now laying on the floor, the webbing long since dissolved.

"Don't," MJ said, grabbing his shoulder. "They're gonna have more guns and if they see you with that, it'll just be worse."

Peter pursed his lips but didn't make a move for the gun. As much as he hated it, MJ had a point. It was better to leave the gun where it was than risk the guards turning larger guns on them as soon as they stepped into the room.

The lock twisted and MJ's heart jumped in his ears.

"Em―"

"I'm okay," she promised. Her fingers tightened on his shoulder, though, as the door swung inwards and Mr. Hide-A-Name walked in with a dozen suited guards at his side.

"Good god, Parker," Mr. Hide-A-Name exclaimed. He gestured to where parts of the web hammock were slowly fading from the wall. "A hammock? Out of webs? I thought for sure that thing would never come down."

"I can make another, if you'd like," Peter offered shortly.

"Trying to keep your girl out of my hands then, huh?" Mr. Hide-A-Name chuckled and MJ's fingers dug deeper into Peter's shoulder when he tensed. Moving to pick up his gun off the floor, Mr. Hide-A-Name said, "You aren't using this?" He hummed. "Shame. Guess I will."

Mr. Hide-A-Name leveled the gun in their direction and Peter's skin itched. The first shot missed them―Peter yanked MJ to the left. The second shot came too close to MJ's arm for comfort. The third shot came immediately after the second and as Peter shoved MJ down, the bullet tore through his suit and into his stomach.

MJ screamed and Peter slumped at the impact.

"Peter!"

His hand moved to cover the bullet wound and MJ dropped into view in front of him, moving between him and Mr. Hide-A-Name.

"MJ, move," he hissed, shoving her to the side as Mr. Hide-A-Name walked up behind her.

"Stop moving," she hissed, unzipping her hoodie.

Mr. Hide-A-Name moved closer and Peter struggled to his feet as MJ fought him. His neck prickled and his hand shot away from his side to grab Mr. Hide-A-Name's arm.

MJ didn't turn even as the guards around him moved in on them. Standing with her back to Mr. Hide-A-Name, MJ wadded her hoodie up and pressed it to the bleeding wound in Peter's side as he held Mr. Hide-A-Name's arms away from her.

"MJ!" Peter gasped as she pressed on the wound.

Behind her and Mr. Hide-A-Name, the suited guards moved to trap them in the corner and Peter's chest grew tight. The air on his arms stood on end and MJ's eyes darted up to his as if sensing what he did. She didn't see the impending danger, however.

"No―"

He let go of Mr. Hide-A-Name to wrap one arm around MJ's shoulders and twist them both out of reach of a needle. His side screamed in protest and a groan left his lips, but he didn't stop.

They collided with one of the armed guards and Peter reacted on instinct, pulling MJ back as the man swung a heavy baton at them. It bounced off his shoulder and when he whined in pain, MJ turned on the guard with a scowl.

"Fuck off!" she growled, bringing her knee up between the man's legs before Peter realized she'd stepped away from him.

He reached for her with a gasp, but another guard stepped between them and swung his baton into Peter's side where Mr. Hide-A-Name had shot him minutes prior.

In the back of his mind, Peter registered MJ screaming his name and the itching sensation of danger urging him to grab MJ, but it was all blurred by the pain that rippled through his body at the guard's hit. White dots danced in front of him and when his vision cleared, he was slumped against the floor.

There were two guards between him and MJ who was―for all intents and purposes―holding her own against them fairly well. He heard a satisfying crunch as her elbow connected with Mr. Hide-A-Name's nose, the only one not wearing a helmet.

Mr. Hide-A-Name stumbled out of reach, but the scream of danger only grew louder in Peter's head as MJ snarled and pushed through the guards toward him.

"MJ, no!" he gasped as she started to drop to her knees in front of him.

Peter lunged forward only to be stopped by a boot to his chest and MJ's face twisted as she landed on her knees in front of him. A needle was still stuck in her neck, but it was empty.

MJ moved before he did, ripping the empty needle out of her neck and tossing it toward the guards before leaning forward to cover Peter's wound with her hoodie once again.

"Em, they―"

She interrupted him sharply. "Later, Peter."

Behind her, Mr. Hide-A-Name and his guards had already started retreating out of the room, but Peter's eyes followed them as MJ pressed her hoodie to his side, muttering curses under her breath and telling him to stop slouching.

"I'll heal, Em," he said breathlessly, "let it―let it be."

"No," she snapped. She shifted on her knees until she was straddling him and could apply firm pressure to the wound. "You are bleeding―" her voice cracked― "out, Peter Parker."

She reached up to push her hair behind her ear, smearing blood across her forehead, and looked at him.

"We can't do anything about me," she told him firmly. Her bottom lip trembled. "But I can keep you from bleeding out, so let me do that, okay? Let me―Just let me help you."

Peter wanted to argue, to say that whatever they'd had in that needle could kill her, but she was right. There was nothing they could do about it right now, but Peter was bleeding and MJ had stitched his wounds countless times already. If fixing this one would stop her hands from trembling and keep her tears from falling, then he'd let her fix it.

"Alright," he agreed softly. Leaning back against the wall, he let his head thump against the cold brick and focused on the feeling of MJ fixing him yet again.