Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a catastrophic situation. A cataclysmic disaster. A near-apocalyptic state of affairs.

Penelope Parker, of slightly above average height and significantly below average breast size, was officially a high schooler. And she had no-freaking-thing to wear. 

From her perch standing atop her bed surrounded by seemingly every single article of clothing she’d ever owned in her life, Penny heard a sudden frantic knocking at the apartment door, followed quickly by the familiar noise of her uncle’s loafers lumbering down the hall. 

The door swung open as the knocks were on the verge of escalating into bangs. 

“Mary Jane? Where’s the fire, kid?” 

“Hi, Ben. I’m here to save Penny.”

“What’s wrong with —”

“Oh, thank god!” Penny had already leapt off her bed and dashed out her bedroom door. She skidded right down the hall and into her best friend’s arms. “I was just about to text you! How did you know?”

“Penelope, please,” Mary Jane scoffed as she tossed back her fiery mane of hair. “You’re more predictable than a Hallmark movie. Now, take me to your fashion crisis.” 

“Fashion crisis,” Uncle Ben repeated flatly as the two girls went racing up the hall. 

Aunt May emerged from the kitchen, pressed a coffee mug into her husband’s hands, and kissed him on the cheek. “Welcome to having a teenage girl, dear.”

...

Mary Jane clapped her hands together. “First things first: is there anything you own that’s not a sweater or a graphic tee?”

Penny quickly performed a mental inventory of her wardrobe. “My first communion dress.”

“Christ.”

“Yeah, that was the idea.”

Mary Jane was not amused. 

“I was thinking maybe I could steal one of Ben’s flannel shirts and put it over a t-shirt?” Penny suggested as she dove back into the mountain of clothes atop her bed. “Maybe with these jeans? Is grunge in or out right now?”

“Stop trying to appropriate my culture, Penny.”

“For the last time, MJ, flannel is not exclusive to lesbians and lumberjacks.”

“Hush,” Mary Jane said as she started to sort through the pile of t-shirts. “The straights have lost their rights to opinions on matters of fashion.”

“I wouldn’t say straight ,” Penny argued. “I would totally do Black Widow.”

MJ scoffed. “She doesn’t count. Everyone would do Black Widow. I’m pretty sure Aunt Anna would do Black Widow.”

Penny wrinkled her nose. She didn’t need that mental image of Mary Jane’s seventy-something year old guardian. “Ew. Gross.”

“Don’t be ageist, Penn. Anna’s still a hottie at heart.” Mary Jane held up a t-shirt that read This is not the droid you are looking for , pinching it between her two fingers like one of those little plastic bags people use for dog poop. “Do you have anything that doesn’t scream ‘nerd’?”

“Hey!” Penny screeched indignantly. “Stars Wars is probably the most famous franchise of all time. Liking it does not make you a nerd.”

“Penny, you’re a massive nerd. You’re taking a second science as an elective .”

“It’s robotics! That doesn’t count!”

Mary Jane threw up her hands. “I can’t work in these conditions! You’re gonna have to come with me back to mine. But first, put on the medium-wash high-waisted jeans. They make your butt look good.”

...

At Mary Jane’s apartment one floor down and two doors over, she reached into her closet then thrusted a Ramones shirt into Penny’s hands.

“MJ, this is a crop top ,” Penny said, scandalized. “And fitted .”

“Welcome to high school, Penelope.”

“I don’t have the boobs for this!” 

Mary Jane rolled her eyes. “You’ll be fine, P. Kendell Jenner has no tits, and she wears tight crop tops literally all the time. Now get out. I haven’t finished my makeup, and perfect wings don’t do themselves.”

“This is a betrayal. A grave injustice. Why do I even try?” MJ lamented when Penny met her outside twenty minutes later wearing a cardigan over her shirt, the bottom half completely buttoned. 

“I didn’t have a choice!” Penny insisted. “You think Uncle Ben would’ve let me out of the apartment otherwise?”

“Penny, you literally cannot even see any skin.”

“You can when I lift my arms!” 

“And what? You’re planning to do calisthenics throughout the day?”

Penny paused. “I don’t think so? Honestly, I’m not totally clear on what calisthenics actually are.” 

“No one is. Other than, like, CrossFit bros or whatever,” MJ told her with a dismissive wave of her hand. “The point is that you better take off that sweater, or so help me God-”

“Okay, okay, geez. No need to bring the Big Guy into it.” 

Penny darted her eyes around nervously as she slowly removed her cardigan. Mary Jane let out a gusty sigh of relief as it slipped off her shoulders. Good Lord, her best friend was unbelievably dramatic. 

Penny loved her so freaking much.

The walk to the bus stop and subsequent ride to school was uneventful. Penny gave a little wave to the smattering of kids she recognized. Mary Jane spent the entire trip whispering a running commentary on their fellow commuters' chosen First Day of School Outfits. For the most part, Penny managed to keep a straight face, but something about Jack Schlackman’s “middle-aged-accountant-mid-divorce” haircut nearly sent her over the edge. 

Once they were at school, they set about hunting down their lockers. Their orientation materials had come in the mail a few weeks beforehand, but the shoddy hand-drawn map included in the packet was admittedly minimally helpful. They were assigned by grade then alphabetically by last name, meaning that, while Parker and Watson had managed to land on the same hall, they were unfortunately stranded on opposite ends. 

With one particularly unpleasant barrier in the middle, as Penny discovered when she closed the door to her locker to reveal her own personal blonde-haired, blue-eyed, All-American nightmare: Eugene “Flash” Thompson. 

“Hey there, Puny Parker,” he greeted with a shark-like smile. “Still no tits I see. Sorry, I know you were holding out for that sudden summer growth spurt. I was really rooting for you.”

Penny pressed her lips together and dropped her eyes to the floor. She’d known this stupid shirt had been a bad idea. 

Mary Jane was not the type to be cowed, though. She popped up at Penny’s side — seemingly out of thin air — with a little spark of rage already burning to life in her eyes. “Think about Penny’s tits a lot, Flash?” she questioned. 

Flash stiffened, clearly not prepared for any sort of comeback, but he recovered quickly. “Not nearly as much as you do, Rug Muncher,” he sneered. 

“At least I know where the clit is.”

“I know where the clit is.”

“Your reviews say otherwise.”

“What reviews?”

“Come along, Penelope,” Mary Jane sniffed, gripping her by the elbow. “Time for class.” 

“Hey, wait-”

“Catch you later, Over-in-a-Flash.”

He kept sputtering for a few seconds but pulled himself together just in time to call, “See ya, Scissor Sisters!” at their retreating backs. 

“Ugh,” MJ growled once they’d finally turned into the next hall, “I hate him. Couldn’t he have gotten held back? Again.”

“You knew that wasn’t gonna happen,” Penny sighed. “The high school varsity teams were too desperate to have him. You know how it is, no star athlete left behind.” 

“Yeah, it’s not like this is an educational institution or something. Who cares if he only reads at a third grade level as long as he’s good at playing with his balls?”

“Ew, MJ, gross.”

“Sports balls, Penn. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

Penny rolled her eyes as they came to a stop in front of Room 201. “Yeah, I’m the one with the dirty mind.” 

Mary Jane smirked. “Glad you’re learning to be honest with yourself, babe.”

Penny huffed out a laugh. But her face dropped as she glanced between the classroom door and her best friend. “Well, this is me.”

Mary Jane’s smile softened. “I’ll save you a seat at lunch. Then we’ve got history with Mr. Anders this afternoon. And PE together tomorrow morning.”

“Color me stoked,” Penny sighed. 

Mary Jane reached up to give Penny’s cheek an only mildly patronizing pat. “You’re gonna be fine, Penn. You know, most high schoolers don’t even bite. I’ve heard it’s mostly just the goth kids.” 

Penny smirked. “Really? I’d heard it was the theater nerds.”

“How dare you!” MJ gasped. “Go, begone! I won’t take this kind of slander.”

“I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

And with that, she was gone. Penny took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and walked through the door.

Homeroom was uneventful, as was first period Algebra II. Her friend Ned had waved like a maniac the second she walked into the room, as though she hadn’t spent five hours at his house over the weekend constructing a Lego replica of the Millenium Falcon. Penny was glad to see him there. The class mostly consisted of upperclassmen she didn’t recognize and, frankly, found kind of terrifying. But Ned, while a little on the high-strung side, was “a good egg,” as Uncle Ben liked to say. 

They walked together to their lockers after class ended, Ned chattering excitedly at her side the whole way. 

“-and apparently last year one student tried to add mini repulsors to his bot — you know, Iron Man style — for the fighting unit and they exploded! Like, BOOM! Can you imagine? That’s so cool! I hope we get at least one explosion this year!” 

“I mean,” Penny said, struggling to shove her glasses up the bridge of her nose while juggling an armload of textbooks and binders, “I have a feeling repulsors are probably banned now. So I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“Oh, Penny, Penny, Penny,” Ned sighed. “You’re thinking too small. There are so, so many things with explosive potential.”

“This is Robotics I, Ned. We’ll be lucky if they let us handle all our own programming.” 

“You know, they should’ve called you Nellie. As in Negative Nellie.”

“So you’ve said. I prefer Pragmatic Penny.”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess we’ll see,” Ned said. “What’s your next class?”

Penny glanced down at the schedule in her hand, though she’d long had it memorized. What if she’d read it wrong the first thousand times? 

“Chemistry with Ms. Stevens,” she confirmed. 

“Oof. I heard she’s kind of a hard-butt.”

“Heard where? We’ve been here, like, two hours.” 

Ned fixed her with a pretty potent side-eye. “I do know other people, Penny.”

Penny didn’t press the matter — mostly because they’d already arrived at Ned’s destination. After she waved goodbye and promised to save him a seat in robotics that afternoon, she continued on to her own classroom. 

This class was even worse than the last as far as unfamiliar faces went. It was an accelerated chemistry class typically reserved for juniors or particularly enterprising sophomores, but Penny’s eighth grade science teacher had recommended her. So there she sat, staring down at her notebook, doodling a series of concentric circles as the other students around her exchanged familiar greetings and stories from the summer. She was contemplating sneaking out her phone to shoot a text to MJ when a high, clear voice asked:

“Hi, is this seat taken?” 

Penny’s head snapped up, and her eyes immediately locked on a figure standing above her. Framed by the light of the overhead fluorescents, the girl looked like an angel with her big blue eyes, pale blonde hair, and lacy white blouse. Penny’s tongue felt too heavy for her mouth. She felt like the connection between her brain and her vocal cords had been completely severed. It had been way, way too long. She needed to say something back and fast.

“Uh, I’m sorry, what?” 

Good job, Penny. Beautifully eloquent. A great first impression, as usual. 

But the other girl just laughed, quiet but bright. Not like she was laughing at Penny for being stupid and awkward, but like she found Penny amusing in an endearing kind of way. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said. “It’s alright. I’m prone to getting a bit lost in my head, too. I asked if this seat was free.”

“Y-yeah,” Penny stuttered. “Sure. Totally.”

The girl smiled again as she placed her bag on the floor and gracefully slid onto the stool. She tossed her hair over her shoulder as she turned to Penny, releasing a gust of strawberry-scented air. “I’m Gwen. Gwen Stacy.”

“Yeah,” Penny said, inhaling deeply. “Oh, um, Penny. Penny Parker.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Penny. Are you new? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Oh, um, kinda. I’m a freshman.”

Gwen looked surprised. And maybe a little impressed. Though that last one might’ve just been wishful thinking on Penny’s part.

“Oh, wow,” Gwen said, “you must be pretty good at science if you’re already in this class.” 

Penny shrugged, eyes darting back down to her notebook. “Uh, I guess.” 

Gwen gave her another smile and a wink. A wink . “Well I guess it’s a good thing I chose this seat then. I’m sure you’ll make a great partner.” 

Penny blue screened. A full system crash. 

This was gonna make for an interesting year.

By the time Penny made it to the cafeteria, she was practically bursting at the seams. 

“It’s official,” she announced as she slid into the seat next to Mary Jane. “I am definitely bisexual.”

“Good for you,” a voice chimed in. 

Penny turned, cheeks flaming, to see a tall girl with dark, curly hair plop her tray down across the table. 

“Um, thanks?” she squeaked out. 

“Penny, meet Michelle,” Mary Jane said, serenely taking a bite of her apple. “We have Theater together.”

Penny glanced between the two other girls, watching as Michelle whipped out a copy of The Feminine Mystique and proceeded to ignore all the food on her tray except for the pudding cups, of which there were three. 

“That’s…nice.”

“So, back to your Bisexual Awakening,” MJ prompted. 

Penny hesitated. “Uh…”

“Relax,” Michelle said without looking up from her book. “Breaking free of cisheteronormativity is worthy of celebration.”

“Yeah, Penn,” Mary Jane concurred. “We’ll get you a cake. ‘Poles or Holes’.”

Penny cocked her head, considering. “That sounds like a bad gender reveal.”

“All gender reveals are bad gender reveals,” Michelle said.

“Speaking of heteronormativity,” Mary Jane began, “where's Ned?”

“He’s got third lunch,” Penny replied. “And I hardly think he’s a paragon of heterosexuality.”

Mary Jane scoffed. “He’s got a raging crush on Sally Avril, in spite of her complete lack of a brain and general bitchiness. That’s about as hetero as it gets.” 

Penny conceded the point and started digging around in her lunch box. Generic ham sandwich, a clementine, applesauce, and — God bless you, Aunt May — a bag of pickle chips. Penny was digging into the latter with relish when Mary Jane let out a loud groan. 

“Ugh,” she said, “speaking of paragons of heterosexuality.”

Penny glanced up and, of course, there was Flash, his girlfriend Liz on his arm and henchman Brian “Tiny” McKeever by his side. 

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he greeted with a shark-like smile. 

“Go away, Flash,” Mary Jane said. 

Flash pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Aw, don’t be like that. You know, I was just telling my friends here how amazing it is, the way the future cat ladies always seem to find one another. We were all wondering what your secret is.” 

“Do you have a club?” Liz interjected with a sneer. “The Homely and the Helpless?” 

“Or maybe you find each other by smell?” Tiny added with an exaggerated sniff. 

“I’ve got it!” Flash snapped his fingers together. “You have some sort of mating call!”

Mary Jane just rolled her eyes. “Bet you spend a lot of time thinking about us ‘mating’, don’t you Flash?”

“Nah,” Flash said, his smile stretching wide, “fat dykes aren’t really my type.” 

Penny saw the exact moment Mary Jane’s face fell — the moment when her usually self-assured and unflappable friend took his words to heart — and she had had enough. 

“What the heck is your problem?” Penny demanded. 

Flash turned his gaze to Penny with a sneer. “Your face, Four Eyes.”

“Wow, Flash, real original,” Penny scoffed, “but I can’t say I’m surprised.” 

“I’ve gotta say,” she added, leaning forward across the table to stare Flash dead in the eyes. “Why anyone would care about the opinions of a guy who needed two tries to pass the fourth grade is beyond me, Eugene .” 

For a second, Penny was legitimately worried that Flash was going to hit her. Sure, he’d been a dick for years, had thrown countless insults and jabs her way, had even ruined some of her things. But he had never laid a hand on her. He had standards — shitty standards, but standards nonetheless — and seemed to operate under an unspoken rule that none of the girls he terrorized got physically hurt. 

Penny wondered if he was about to make an exception. 

Then the fire slowly leeched out of his eyes, and with a shake of his head, he seemed to come back to himself. He turned to Liz and Tiny — both staring at him expectantly — and said, “Come on. Let’s leave the Geek Squad to their lunch.”

Penny wasn’t quite sure how it happened. Honestly, she was pretty sure the whole thing defied the laws of physics, but there was seemingly no force in the universe stronger than Parker Luck. Somehow, someway, Flash’s basketball shorts caught the edge of Michelle’s tray, which went flying across the table and smacked into Penny’s lunch along the way. Then into Penny herself. 

She stared down at her chest, where Mary Jane’s Ramones crop top was now covered in pickle chip dust and chocolate pudding. And as seemingly every single eye in the cafeteria turned her way, Penny wasn’t quite sure whether to burst into laughter or tears.

Welcome to high school, I guess.

Chapter Text

The first Saturday morning in October, Mary Jane let herself into Penny’s room and plopped down on her bed. 

“My sister got a job at her campus bookstore, and she sent me this,” she announced. “I’ve decided I might actually love her after all.”

She was sporting a Smith College shirt that read A Century of Women on Top . It might’ve taken Penny a second to get it, but in her defense, she’d just been woken up. Rather abruptly. 

“Wait, is Gale a lesbian, too?” she asked once the double entendre had sunk in. 

“I don’t think so,” Mary Jane replied with a thoughtful tilt of her head. “Just a misandrist.” 

“Hmm.” Penny yawned. 

“None of that," Mary Jane ordered. "I’m here to discuss our Homecoming plans.”

Penny took a deep breath, grabbed her glasses off her nightstand, and shifted aside the covers so she could get out of bed. Clearly, she wasn’t getting back to sleep anytime soon. “I was thinking a pint of mint chocolate ice cream, a few episodes of Dr. Who , and a good night’s rest.”

Mary Jane fixed her with a deadpan look. “We are not skipping Homecoming, Penelope.”

“I never said anything about we .” 

“Come on,” Mary Jane whined. “Even Michelle is going!”

“Didn’t she call it a ‘school-sponsored perpetuation of the adolescent fixation on popularity and athleticism’ just last week?”

“Yeah, but she’s still going .”

“Then you don’t need me,” Penny pointed out. “You’ve already got someone to go with.” 

Mary Jane fixed her with a sharp look as Penny was struggling into a sweatshirt. 

“Penelope Benjamina Parker,” her friend said, “are you jealous ?” 

Penny’s head finally popped through the neck-hole. “No!” she exclaimed, perhaps a bit too defensively. “I just don’t want to subject myself to a night of awkward dancing and crappy music. Sue me.” 

“Penny, please ,” Mary Jane practically begged, fixing her with pitiful big, green eyes.

Penny sighed, dropping back down heavily to sit on the edge of the bed beside her friend. “Why is this so important to you?” she asked. “We’ve got three whole more years left to subject ourselves to unnecessary torture and ridicule.”

Mary Jane opened her mouth then closed it. Opened it again. Closed it. Finally she said, “Well, what if I don’t have three years left? What if this is it?”

Penny groaned. “Please tell me you haven’t convinced yourself that you have tuberculosis or Hodkin’s Lymphoma or something again. I swear to God, MJ, I’m going to steal your phone and block access to WedMD.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Mary Jane said. Then she paused. Long enough for Penny to start to get a bit nervous. “I’m applying to a few performing arts schools.” 

Oh. 

Oh.

“It’s just, you know I didn’t get into LaGuardia last year and I didn’t bother with any of the private schools because I never thought we’d be able to swing it, but then Gale got that scholarship, so money isn’t as tight as we thought it would be,” Mary Jane continued in a rush, as though she couldn’t stop now that she had started. “Aunt Anna was saying that maybe if I could get a scholarship too we could make it work. You know that’s always been my dream, to go somewhere like Walnut Hill or even Interlochen. And I’m so sorry because I don’t want to leave you, but you’ve got Ned, and I introduced you to Michelle, and I bet you and Gwen will be partners outside of lab before you know it -”

Penny held up a hand. “Mary Jane, stop.”

Then Penny took a deep breath, gathered every little bit of selflessness she possessed in the dusty corners of her heart and said, “You don’t get to apologize for chasing your dreams just because I’m scared of basic human interaction.” She grabbed her best friend's hands and looked her dead in the eyes. “I want this for you. I want you to aim high. I want you to achieve your goals. But most of all, I want you to be happy.”

Mary Jane’s eyes were getting pretty misty, and Penny could feel the telltale sting in her own so she quickly added, “And one day, when you’re a big star, you can take me to premieres and on fancy vacations and pay all my bills to make up for it.” 

MJ detached one hand from Penny’s grasp to wipe at her eyes. “Shut up. You know I don’t like it when you get all earnest before 10 am.”

“And whose fault is that? You could’ve always let me sleep in and give my impassioned speech at a later hour.”

Mary Jane laughed thickly. Then she reached up to cup both of Penny’s cheeks. “I love you,” she told her. “I’d marry you if I didn’t like my women bitchy and aloof.”

Penny tapped a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, how unfortunate we don’t know any girls like that…”

Mary Jane narrowed her eyes. “Don’t,” she warned. 

“Michelle and MJ sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-”

Two minutes later — following a series of shrieks and thuds — Uncle Ben burst into the room to see Penny giggling wildly as her best friend did her resolute best to suffocate her with a pillow.

Mary Jane worked fast — or maybe she’d just been colluding with Aunt May all this time — because Penny found herself dragged along after the both of them to a drafty department store that very afternoon. 

“It won’t stop falling down,” Penny groaned, adjusting the strapless dress she was wearing for about the billionth time in the three minutes she’d had it on. It was at least the tenth dress she’d tried on so far, and they seemed to be no closer to finding a winner. 

“Well, I could always take it in a bit in the back,” May suggested, leaning in to examine the seams. “Or maybe add some straps.”

“It’s hopeless!” Penny despaired. “I don’t even have enough boobs to hold up a dress!”

“Penelope, you’re still young,” May said. “They’ll come in eventually.”

“I’m fourteen! They’re running out of time to make their appearance!”

“You know,” MJ said, “they’re not all they’re cracked up to be.”

Penny just shot a dubious glance at Mary Jane’s rather generous chest. She had always been a little bit jealous of her friend. Mary Jane had gotten a bra in fourth grade, had gotten her period in 6th (though Penny later realized that wasn’t quite the blessing she had thought it to be at the time). Meanwhile, Penny was currently barely out of training bras, and she still didn’t have a regular cycle. She’d probably feel like a child next to Mary Jane if it wasn’t for the solid six or so inches of height she had on her. 

“Oh, come off it, P,” MJ said. “People would kill to have a body like yours. You’re practically catwalk ready!” 

Penny rolled her eyes. “Yeah, prepubescent boy chic.” 

“Stop it, Penelope,” Aunt May chastised firmly. “You’re a beautiful young lady. And we’re going to find you a beautiful dress.”

“Something short,” Mary Jane interjected sagely. “Show off the legs.”

“Well, not too short,” May said. 

Mary Jane waved her off. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

They settled on something flowy and navy, with little spaghetti straps to hold it in place. The length (or lack thereof) did garner a few disapproving looks from May, but she ultimately kept her opinions to herself, seemingly happy that a dress had finally passed Penny’s muster. Mary Jane insisted on a pair of strappy silver heels to match, barely two inches high. They still made Penny a bit nervous to tell the truth. 

“We’ll practice,” MJ promised. 

Mary Jane got something bright red and sparkly with a pair of heels that looked like she was personally challenging both God and gravity. May took them out for Thai, grabbing something to-go for both Uncle Ben and Aunt Anna on the way out. Boob-related insecurities aside, it was a lovely day. 

Which is why Penny probably should’ve realized things were about to go wrong.

Mary Jane and Michelle both came home with Penny after school the day of the dance. None of them particularly cared about making it to the game, so instead they opted to leisurely get ready together, complete with bright green face masks and a stupid amount of junk food from the corner bodega. 

It was Michelle’s first time over at the Parker’s, and she was taking in Penny’s nearly completely covered walls with a detached sort of interest as she munched on a bag of Hot Cheetos. 

“What’s all this?” she asked, gesturing with chalky orange fingers at a bulletin board covered in an array of photographs, newspaper clippings, and printed articles.

“Oh, that’s Penny’s shrine,” Mary Jane said offhandedly. 

Penny paused in her shaky-handed attempt at painting her toenails. “It’s not a shrine …”

“Uh-huh, then what is it?”

“It’s just a wall of - of appreciation ,” Penny sputtered. 

Michelle cocked an eyebrow. “Sounds kinda like a shrine.”

“Penny’s got a thing for Supers,” Mary Jane told her. “Ever since Iron Man stopped her from getting blasted to smithereens a few years ago.”

“Are you talking about the Battle of New York?” Michelle asked. “You know, Josie Davis claims Captain America himself carried her to safety, but I have a feeling it was just one of those guys from Times Square. The real Captain seemed a little busy.”

“No,” Penny corrected, “the Stark Expo a couple years before that.”

Michelle looked about as intrigued as she ever got. Which was to say, mildly curious. “No shit. You were there?”

“Yeah,” Penny confirmed. “The tickets were an early birthday present from Uncle Ben. We went together, and when all the violence and mayhem started, we got separated. Honestly, I think he still has nightmares about it on occasion.”

Michelle made a little noise of acknowledgment and went back to examining the collection of superhero memorabilia.

“So I get why Iron Man’s a favorite,” she said. “And, obviously, who doesn’t like looking at pictures of Black Widow? But why’s there so much of the Devil guy?”

Penny felt as her cheeks immediately flushed and desperately hoped the red wasn’t visible through her face mask. 

“Penny likes looking at his ass.”

“ Mary Jane! ” Penny exclaimed. 

“What? It’s true!” her friend insisted. “Even I, a firmly non-interested party, can acknowledge that it’s a pretty nice one.” 

“You make me sound like a perve,” Penny groused. 

“We’re teenagers, Penny. We’re allowed to be a little bit pervy. It’s all the hormones and stuff.”

“It’s not just that though!” Penny defended, indignant.

Mary Jane smirked. “So you admit that you do like looking at his ass?” 

Penny ignored her, words becoming increasingly impassioned as she gave in and hopped up on her soapbox. 

“Most of the other heroes are all about saving the world and stopping these massive, city-wide disasters. And of course, no one knows better than us New Yorkers how important that stuff is. But Daredevil saves individuals . He looks out for the little guy. Sure, he takes on serial killers and organized crime, but at the end of the day, he’s still out there stopping muggings and rapes and corner store robberies. You don’t really see many Supers doing that. He’s got these amazing abilities, and he uses them to make his neighborhood a safer place. It’s like Uncle Ben always says, ‘with great power-”

“-comes great responsibility.’” Mary Jane cut in. “Yeah, yeah, we’re all familiar. Now get over here and let me do your hair.”

Mary Jane helped Penny straighten out her unruly curls, taking her hair from barely below her shoulders to several inches down her back. Michelle even offered to add a couple of braids to frame Penny’s face, an unexpectedly sweet gesture. Penny didn’t have much talent with makeup, so Mary Jane did something fancy with one of her eye shadow palettes then complained loudly when Penny covered up all her hard work with her glasses. 

“I am begging you to get some contacts!” she said. 

“Why would I choose to put plastic in my eye?” Penny fired back. 

“Can both of you shut up and help me pick a lipstick?” Michelle said. 

By the time Ben was knocking on the door to announce Ned’s arrival, Penny and Mary Jane were in their navy and red dresses, respectively, while Michelle wore a pair of tailored trousers and a deep purple blouse. They exited the room to great fanfare considering the small size of the gathered crowd. Aunt Anna was there along with Ned’s moms, and of course Penny’s aunt and uncle. Something was shining in Ben’s eyes when he looked at her, a lot of pride mixed with a little bit of wistfulness. 

“You look so grown,” he told her. “And so much like your mother.” 

Penny’s throat felt suspiciously tight after that, so she turned her attention back to her friends to avoid any poorly timed displays of emotion. 

Ned was wearing a pair of slacks with a plaid blazer, an untucked dress shirt, and a fedora perched atop his head. It was not a look that Penny found particularly flattering or fashion-forward, but he seemed happy and comfortable, and that was what really mattered. 

Their little group had all decided to buy one another corsages and boutonnieres, since none of them were officially going with a date. Mary Jane had “randomly drawn” the names and miraculously pulled Michelle for herself. Now she was pinning a little black dahlia to Michelle’s blouse. Penny had drawn Ned’s name, so she was very, very carefully attaching a sprig of baby’s breath to his lapel, one of his moms frantically snapping pictures all the while. Michelle had drawn Penny’s name, and Penny was pleasantly surprised to see a little cluster of daisies — her favorite flower — slipped onto her wrist. 

“MJ picked it out,” Michelle informed her, which only ruined it a little bit. 

After Ned had given Mary Jane her corsage — a vivid red rose, of course — the group was forced into a series of increasingly awkward poses for photos. May kept attempting to cajole Michelle into actually smiling but seemed to quickly realize that she was fighting a losing battle. 

As soon as the parents/parental figures finished, Penny exclaimed, “my turn!” and ran to her room to grab her camera. It was nothing fancy — just one of those little Instax Minis that spits out hazy instant photos — but it had been one of her most prized possessions since she’d gotten it for Christmas back in seventh grade. Pictures of her friends, family, and whatever random sights she happened to find intriguing were strung up all over her room. God only knew how much film she’d gone through in the past year and a half. 

Penny had approximately three minutes to stage her own photo shoot before the ever punctual Aunt May started to get antsy and set to corralling them all downstairs and into Uncle Ben’s car. Penny just slipped her camera and some extra film in her purse with a sigh. 

Ned got shotgun, so the three girls piled into the back, which had far too little legroom for the likes of both Penny and Michelle. But they endured both the limited space and Uncle Ben’s truly egregious taste in music with good humor. 

When they got to the school, Penny was the last out of the car. Ben called her over to his window before she could get far. If he tried to give her a kiss or something, she was going to make a break for it, she decided. Though she wasn’t sure how well that would work out in her heels. 

“Have fun, Bug,” he told her instead, “and be safe. Call me when you’re all ready to come home.” 

Penny gave him a smile and a wave, grateful for the lack of displays of familial affection. Then she rejoined her waiting friends and together they walked through the doors. 

The Homecoming committee had done their best to transform their drab school gym into an underwater wonderland, but there’s only so much one can do with balloons, streamers, and paper cutouts of fish. Still, there was something kinda cute about it in a kitschy sort of way. 

Across the room, Penny spotted Gwen. She was wearing a poofy cream-colored dress that sparkled even in the dimmed lights, laughing as a handsome, dark-haired boy twirled her round and round. Penny felt a pang of jealousy lance through her, and when she turned back to her friends, Mary Jane was looking at her knowingly. 

“You should go say hi,” she said. 

Penny gnawed at her lip. It wasn’t like she didn’t speak to Gwen regularly — they talked every other day in class — but this was different.  She glanced back, watching as the boy dipped a smiling Gwen low, and shook her head. 

“No, it’s fine. I don’t want to bother her.” 

Mary Jane gave her an exasperated look, but she didn’t press the matter. Their little group drifted towards the wall of bleachers, the designated school dance hangout of wallflowers everywhere. They hovered there at the fringes, looking longingly around the room — Penny at Gwen, MJ at the dance floor, Ned at the food, and Michelle at the exit. 

Penny forced herself to snap out of it. She slipped her camera out of her bag and turned to her friends. “Who’s up for another round of pictures?” 

Soon, the whole group was laughing, Penny snapping away as Mary Jane struck a series of poses and Michelle stole Ned’s hat. Penny had just captured another picture — MJ cocking her hip and blowing a kiss — when someone snatched the camera right out of her hands. 

Liz Allen stood there in a bubblegum pink dress, accompanied by Tiny McKeever, Jason Ionello, Sally Avril, and, of course, Flash. She plucked out the piece of film, fanning herself with it as it developed. 

“Hmm,” she said after examining the picture for a moment, “I guess the camera really does add ten pounds.”

Then Liz looked Penny dead in the eye and released her grip on the camera. Penny watched – almost in slow motion – as it fell to the floor. 

“Oh no, Tiny, watch out!” Liz faux gasped. “You don’t wanna step on it!”

Tiny – whose nickname was most certainly a misnomer – smiled coldly. Penny lunged for the camera, but she stumbled in her heels and landed hard on her knees, giving her a perfect, close-up view of Tiny grinding her Instax into the ground with the heel of his oxford while all of his friends laughed. 

Penny couldn’t help it. She choked out a sob. 

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you people?” Mary Jane snarled. 

Which is, of course, exactly when a teacher walked up. 

“Mary Jane Watson! We do not use that kind of language in school.” 

“They just broke Penny’s camera!”

“It was an accident, Mr. Anders,” Liz protested, blinking up at the teacher with big, guileless eyes. “Honest!” 

“Yeah,” Jason chimed in, “she just dropped it.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“Miss Watson.”

“Well it is!”

“It - it’s fine,” Penny said as Ned helped her to her feet. “Just a misunderstanding.”

“Penny-”

“I said it’s fine , Mary Jane.” 

Penny knew how this went. She’d done this song and dance plenty of times before. It was her word against Liz’s, and no one had any proof either way. At best, Liz would be forced to give a disingenuous apology then get let off with a warning. There was no point in drawing the whole thing out. Not when all Penny really wanted was to go home and have a proper cry.

Mr. Anders sighed. “Alright, well, all of you get back to the dance. I’ll go find someone to clean this up. Miss Watson, I don’t expect to hear any more language like that out of you tonight.” 

Penny was fairly certain Mary Jane was about two seconds away from hissing like a cat, but she managed to keep it together and force out a passable, “yes sir.” 

“Sorry, Penny,” Liz simpered. “Have fun, you guys!”

Her whole group smirked and started to walk away. All except Flash. He looked between Penny, who was surely sporting some pretty impressive mascara tracks on her cheeks, and the camera shards on the floor. He frowned then opened his mouth as if he had something to say. 

“Come on, babe,” Liz said, glancing back over her shoulder. “Let’s go.” 

Flash’s mouth snapped shut. After one more glance Penny’s way, he turned around and followed his girlfriend back onto the dance floor. 

Penny turned to Mary Jane. “Yeah, Dr. Who and a pint of mint chocolate chip are sounding pretty good right now.”

Penny was in that spot halfway between sleep and wakefulness when Uncle Ben eased his way into her room the next morning. 

“Hey, Bug,” he murmured. “You awake?” 

“No,” Penny groaned, grabbing at the covers to pull them up over her head. 

“Well that’s a bummer. Guess I’ll have to eat all the chocolate chip banana bread I was gonna make by myself.” 

That gave Penny pause. “The recipe with the Greek yogurt?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you gonna add the dark chocolate swirl?” 

“That’s the plan.” 

Penny popped her head out from under the blankets. “Will you let me lick the bowl?” 

Uncle Ben smiled down at her indulgently. “Only if you promise that this time you won’t overdo it and throw up again.” 

Penny squinted up at him, considering. 

“Deal.”

…

“I just don’t get why they feel the need to be so mean ,” Penny said, stuffing another bite of still-warm banana bread into her mouth. “Like, why can’t they just go on their merry, ignorant, vapid little way?”

Ben sighed. “Now Penny…”

“What?” she challenged. “That was downright mild compared to the kind of stuff they say about me!” 

Ben remained silent for a minute or so, clearly carefully contemplating his next words. 

“It’s easy to think ourselves above other people, especially the ones who seem so unrepentantly malicious,” he began, “but you must always remember that inside of all of us lives the potential for both incredible good and unfathomable evil. What matters is what we cultivate within ourselves and others. And things like bitterness and animosity never help that good side flourish, in you or them.”

Penny fixed her uncle with a wry look. “Is this the part where you tell me to kill ‘em with kindness?” 

Ben huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, kid. Pretty much. It’s normally not the most satisfying option, but doing the right thing rarely is.”

“Is this one of those ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ things? Because I’m a fourteen year old girl, Uncle Ben. I’m like the definition of powerless.”

Ben gave her a considering look. She’d always liked that about her uncle. He never failed to take Penny seriously. 

“Okay, yeah, maybe you don’t have much in the way of power right now,” he conceded. “But you’re talented, Penny. Probably the smartest person I ever met. Even smarter than your dad was, and I always thought he was the next Howard Stark. That kind of intelligence is a sort of power in and of itself.”

Ben slid another slice of chocolate chip banana bread onto Penny’s now empty plate. 

“And then one day,” he continued, “if you work hard and put those talents to use, you will have power. True power. And it’s part of my job to make sure you know how to wield it for the greater good.” 

Penny popped a large bite into her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. “So, no plots for world domination?”

Ben laughed — a real one this time, deep and booming. “Yeah, kid. No plots for world domination.”

Chapter Text

They were packing up their bags at the end of class when Gwen turned to Penny and single-handedly stopped her heart in its tracks. 

“Why don’t you come sit with me during lunch?” she suggested. “We can discuss our plans for the end of semester project.” 

For a second, Penny thought that she was hallucinating. It didn’t seem entirely out of the realm of possibility. Gwen had shown up that day in this fitted black turtleneck that Penny was pretty sure had broken her brain. But, no, Gwen was staring at her with an expectant expression, so at the very least she had just asked Penny something . 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, totally. I’ll definitely do that.”

Gwen smiled. “Great. Why don’t you walk with me?” 

Penny was fairly certain she floated to the cafeteria as Gwen glided along at her side, talking about net ionic equations and stoichiometry and a few other things that Penny could barely pay any attention to. Should Penny have offered to carry Gwen’s books? Was that just a thing they did in old movies? Was it just a hetero thing, or something only a guy should do? Penny really needed to google some Sapphic etiquette! 

“Hey, guys,” Gwen greeted once they’d made it to a table of upperclassmen who Penny definitely didn’t find cripplingly intimidating. “This is the chemistry partner that I’ve mentioned, Penny Parker. Penny, this is…”

Penny was not listening. Penny was hearing the words “that I’ve mentioned” run on repeat through her head over and over and over again. 

“Uh,” she said once she noticed the occupants of the table all staring up at her. “Nice to meet all of you. Can - can I get those names one more time, please?”

Luckily, no one seemed to find her request too strange. Gwen listed them out again: Carlie Cooper, Ryan Rappaport, Lily Hollister, and Harry Osborn. While all of them looked vaguely familiar, the latter was the only one she truly recognized. He was the boy from Homecoming, the one who’d been twirling Gwen all around the room. Up close, he was even more handsome, with perfectly tousled brown hair and icy blue eyes. 

Penny kinda hated him. 

True to her word, Gwen spent of the lunch period focused on project planning, though Penny couldn’t help but overhear the conversation taking place at the other end of the table. It seemed like Harry was planning some sort of party, but a few words in particular caught her attention. 

“Yeah, my dad’s out of town this weekend,” he was saying. “Some sort of conference. He’s presenting Oscorp’s newest biomedical something or another.” 

“Your dad works for Oscorp? That’s so cool!” Penny gushed before she could activate her brain-mouth filter. “Their research on cross-species genetics is- is revolutionary !”

One of the other girls, Lily, laughed. “The last name didn’t give it away?”

“Wait,” Penny said. “Osborn as in Norman Osborn?”

Harry smiled wryly. “Yep, that’s my old man.”

“Then what the heck are you doing here!?” Penny blurted. “Wait, oh my god, that was so rude. I am so sor-”

But Harry was laughing, a genuine, unmistakably amused sound. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Turns out, you can only get kicked out of so many NYC prep schools before they all ban you en masse,” he said with a casual shrug and a self-effacing (yet no less devastatingly charming) smile. “I’m on the elite education equivalent of the No Fly List.” 

“Oh, uh, wow,” Penny stuttered. “That sounds…”

Harry fixed Penny with a roguish grin as he leaned across the table towards her. “Like I get myself in a lot of trouble, huh?”

“Uh…”

“Oh, leave her alone, Har,” Lily said. “She’s just a baby.” 

Penny bristled and resisted the urge to glance over at Gwen for her reaction. She was most assuredly not a baby. These guys were only two years older than her! 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry replied, settling back into his seat with casual ease. “I’m just teasing. You know I’d never want to risk corrupting the youth.”

Lily shot him a coquettish smile. “Sure you wouldn’t.” 

“Alright,” Gwen cut in, expression strangely flat. “I’m sorry, Penny, but it looks like lunch is almost over. Maybe you could come over to my house this weekend to discuss our project some more? We might even have time to get a head start on our next lab report. How’s Saturday sound?”

“And then, she asked me to come over to her house .”

“Yes, Penny,” Mary Jane said, “I remember that part of the story from the first hundred times you told it.”

The two were currently engaged in a bit of volunteering — at least, as much as one can call something you’re being forced to do “volunteering.” Aunt May was big on community involvement and seemed to enjoy dragging her niece along behind her in an attempt to promote civic-mindedness. But because it tended to involve getting Penny out of bed before 10 am on a Saturday, it wasn’t working particularly well thus far. 

Occasionally, though, MJ came along to help fulfill her required community service hours for school. Those times weren’t so bad. And this time in particular, it gave Penny a great opportunity to discuss the afternoon plans that were currently occupying her every thought. 

“But what am I supposed to do!?” Penny demanded, examining a can of cut asparagus spears. 

“Put that one in the green bean pile,” Mary Jane advised.  

Penny glared. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, personally, I would recommend going over to her house.” 

Penny put her head in her hands and groaned. “You are the actual, literal worst .”

“Girls, is everything alright over here?” 

Penny dropped her hands and looked up. Mr. Li, the founder of the charity, was examining the various stacks of canned goods that she and Mary Jane had spent the better part of the morning sorting. FEAST would be putting together their yearly Thanksgiving boxes in just a couple of weeks for the community’s homeless and underprivileged. It was a very worthy cause. But couldn’t this stuff wait until the afternoon? 

Mary Jane smiled beatifically. “Yes, Mr. Li. Thanks for checking.”

“How are your studies going?” he asked politely. “Penelope, your aunt tells me that you’re in high school now.” 

“Yes, sir. It’s going pretty well.” 

“Good, good,” Mr. Li replied. “Never forget the value of your education.” 

“Yes, sir,” Penny and Mary Jane chimed in unison. They had some version of this same conversation every time they came by the shelter. They were practically following a script at this point. 

Mr. Li moved on, and Penny immediately resumed stressing about her not-a-date study date. 

“What do I even wear?” she demanded. “Like, obviously, it’s important that I don’t seem like I’m trying too hard, but I also can’t wear my normal Saturday afternoon clothes.” 

Said clothes tended to consist of ratty old t-shirts and sweatpants with various stains. 

“Well, I’d offer to let you borrow another crop top,” MJ said, “but the last one still smells like chocolate-covered pickles.”

“Hey! That’s not my fault!”

Mary Jane shrugged. “Didn’t say that it was. I should’ve known better than to challenge Parker Luck in the first place.” 

“Ugh, I’m doomed!”

“Pfft, and you call me the dramatic one.” Mary Jane rolled her eyes. “Wear the nice-butt jeans plus one of your less nerdy t-shirts and call it a day. It’s not like she hasn’t already seen you plenty of times before.” 

“Yes, but never alone .” Penny lowered her voice. “In, presumably, her bedroom .” 

“Oh, my sweet little Penn, do we need to have The Talk?”

Now it was Penny’s turn to roll her eyes. “May and Ben already beat you there a couple years ago.”

“Yes,” Mary Jane said with a sardonic smile. “And I’m sure it was very inclusive of all genders and sexualities.”

Shit . 

“Okay, nevermind. Tell me what I need to know.”

Penny was due at Gwen’s house at 2:00 that afternoon, so she showed up at exactly 1:55 because a little early seemed polite but too early seemed weird. She also arrived bearing precisely seven homemade lemon crinkle cookies because a dozen would seem like she made them specially for this occasion (which she did) but seven was a passable number to have laying around as leftovers. 

Penny was definitely overthinking absolutely no aspect of this situation. 

Gwen answered the door with her usual bright smile, which brightened when she took in the container of cookies clutched in Penny's hand. She ushered her inside and, as predicted, up to her bedroom, which was so immaculately neat that Penny immediately felt a wave of shame wash over her. 

“My dad’s out this afternoon,” Gwen explained as she set up a Bluetooth speaker. “So we don’t have to worry about being quiet. And I always work better with a little background noise.”

Penny gulped as Gwen swayed her hips in time with the song. God, even her taste in music was cool.

“So,” Gwen said, elegantly perching herself on the edge of her daybed as though she hadn’t already tortured Penny’s poor horny little brain enough. “Let’s get started.”

It turned out that Gwen had been right — the two girls finished outlining their project plan so quickly and efficiently that they had time to get a head start on the next week’s lab report. 

“You’re so good at this stuff, Penny,” Gwen said as she watched her sketch out a diagram in her notebook. “You always have half of our chem assignments done before I’m even able to finish the first question.”

Penny froze. “Oh, sorry, I - I know that sometimes I can get a bit overexcited. I’ve been told I don’t always give our people a chance to-”

“No, no, no! Don’t apologize! You misunderstood,” Gwen interjected. “ I’m the one who’s sorry. I always worry that I’m not pulling my weight.” 

“What? No!” Penny protested. “Gwen, you - you’re so smart. Like, really, really smart.”

“I’m not saying that I’m not. I know I am. But I’m nothing compared to you,” Gwen said, voice dripping with sincerity. “I love science. I find it fascinating. But you just get it in a way that I’ve never seen before.”

Penny wasn’t sure whether all this praise made her want to crawl into a hole or jump for joy. Gwen thought she was smart. Brilliant, even. Penny kind of felt like she could conquer the world. 

“Hey, speaking of apologies,” Gwen said. “I’ve been meaning to say I’m sorry about lunch on Thursday. Harry, well, he just likes to flirt. He doesn’t mean anything by it.” 

That threw Penny for a bit of a loop.

“Uh, flirt?” she asked. Had that really been what he was doing? With her ?

“Yeah, and Lily always eggs him on!”

Gwen was looking increasingly agitated. It was strange to see her that way. She normally seemed so composed and pleasant. Penny had always pegged her as the self-possessed type. 

Oh, geez. Pegged . Now Penny was having flashbacks to her Talk with Mary Jane, which had been rather… comprehensive , to put it mildly. She shook it off and forced herself to tune back into what Gwen was saying. 

“-and like I get that they’re just playing around, but they both know how uncomfortable it makes me.” 

“Yeah…I can see how it could be kinda awkward.”

“I mean, who goes around flirting with other people’s boyfriends?” 

Hold up, other people’s…?

Oh. 

“I know we’ve only officially been together for like a month, but still!” Gwen continued, blissfully unaware of the fact that Penny’s heart was currently breaking just a little bit. “I never once flirted with Justin Coleman when Lily was dating him all of last year, and she knew I’d liked him first! It’s just a respect thing, you know?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Penny muttered. “Totally.”

So what if Gwen was dating the attractive, charming, effortlessly cool son of a multimillionaire? Penny had plenty of things to offer! Like…

Well…

Dammit. Penny was totally screwed. 

Penny woke on Thanksgiving morning to the pleasant aroma of roasting turkey and the not-so-pleasant sound of frazzled guardians. 

“What happened to the potatoes?” Ben asked. 

“They’re in the oven. I broiled them like you asked.”

“No, I asked you to boil them.”

May paused. “Is there a difference?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Ben said quickly. “Plenty of people have Thanksgiving without mashed potatoes.”

Aunt May wasn’t much of a cook, a fact which none of them were supposed to actually acknowledge. She was kind of sensitive about it, being from an older generation of women who felt obligated to churn out daily home-cooked meals for their husbands and families. Ben, by contrast, was a pretty dang good cook, and he liked it, too. Therefore, he was officially designated as Head Chef on all major holidays. Aunt May would help chop and stir and sauté. Penny would mostly just stay out of the way. Except when it came to dessert. 

Penny wasn’t a big fan of cooking herself, but Uncle Ben had successfully sold her on baking as a child by comparing it to a science experiment, telling her it was all about measuring out ingredients and combining them to trigger the right chemical reactions. So Penny was given free rein every year over the pies, which were her official contribution to the Thanksgiving meal. This year, she’d found recipes for a caramel pecan apple pie and a chocolate cherry pie and had decided to attempt a lattice crust with a few pastry roses on the latter. The flower part was only minimally successful, but the flavors were freaking amazing , and that was what really mattered. 

Just before noon, Mary Jane, Aunt Anna, and Gale arrived, each bearing their own covered dish (though all had been cooked by Anna, of course).

Gale had buzzed her entire head, leaving her with a thin layer of ginger fuzz. According to MJ, Aunt Anna had cried for a solid two hours after she’d walked through the door. Aunt May had yet to acknowledge Gale’s missing two feet of hair. She seemed to be operating under the “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” principle. Uncle Ben had stared, mouth agape, then stuttered out something about her saving a lot of money on conditioner. Gale had just clapped him on the shoulder then retreated to the couch to read Nietzsche. Penny and Mary Jane joined her. 

“Since when do you value the thoughts of men?” Mary Jane asked, gesturing at her sister’s book. 

Gale did not look up from her reading. “It’s important to know the minds of your enemies, baby sister.” 

Penny took a moment to ponder these words of wisdom. 

“What type of stuff do you think Flash reads?” she asked Mary Jane.

MJ scoffed. “Bold of you to assume he can.”

Half an hour later, Aunt May called them all to the table. Uncle Ben had pulled out the leaf to extend their four-top to a six-top, but they were all still a bit squished in the apartment’s limited allotted dining area. Penny didn’t mind too much. She could remember past Thanksgivings, when she and Mary Jane were tinier and Gale a bit less jaded. This had to be their fifth or sixth year doing this, combining their little patchwork families to make something bigger, something more. 

So maybe things were a little tight. Maybe their china was chipped and their napkins mismatched. Maybe the flowers on the chocolate cherry pie more closely resembled snail shells than roses. None of that mattered. Penny wouldn’t trade what they had for the world. 

Though, truthfully, she wouldn’t have minded some mashed potatoes. 

Penny had made the same fatal error that nearly all students make every fall — she had promised herself that she would spend her Thanksgiving break getting a head start on her plethora of upcoming assignments and had, in reality, not so much as glanced at her backpack until Sunday night. Which is why she now found herself scrambling to complete the book report that she had completely forgotten was due the next day. 

In her defense, who the heck assigns homework over a holiday? I mean, it’s called a “break” for a reason!

Mrs. Kemp was one of those teachers who believed they had unlocked the perfect technique to do something and insisted on forcing everyone else to replicate it, whether it actually worked for them or not. Her strategy involved recording important plot points, quotes, etc. on index cards throughout the time you spent reading a novel, which you would then use to construct your paper later on. It was — frankly — a massive pain in the butt and something Penny would never ever do in a million years if it wasn’t for the fact that they were required to turn in the cards with the final report. 

Penny was cheating a bit, of course. She had, in fact, nearly completed the essay by the time she started in on the cards. The plan was to reverse engineer them using the content of her report, but there was a pretty glaring flaw in said plan: Penny currently owned a grand total of two and a half index cards. Mrs. Kemp was expecting anywhere from thirty to fifty.

Penny glanced up at the clock. 10:32. Great. This was gonna go over real well. 

After swapping out her pajama pants for a pair of jeans, Penny went skidding down the hall in her socks and started knocking desperately on the door to her aunt and uncle’s bedroom.

When Uncle Ben finally opened the door, he looked frazzled — face red and his hair all ruffled — and Penny felt even worse than before for waking him up…. Wait, why was his shirt on backwards? And inside-out? And there May was in the bed, lamp on, clearly wide-awake. But she was holding the blanket up weirdly high, like all the way up to her neck, and she looked kind of flustered —

Oh . 

Gross. Ew, ew, ew, ew. Why would they even be doing that? Was that even safe at their age? One of them was gonna break a hip!!

“Penny,” Ben said, sounding a little out of breath (and Penny was not thinking about it, she was not ). “Is something wrong?” 

Penny took a deep breath. “Okay, so, you know Mrs. Kemp? My English teacher? Well, she’s like really particular about how we do things. Like, really particular. And she makes us do this thing with flashcards where we have to-”

Uncle Ben held up a hand. “Penny, kid, is this going somewhere?”

“I, uh, I need some index cards. Tonight. For an English assignment that’s due tomorrow.”

Ben couldn’t even speak for a second, which was never a good sign. 

“Penelope Benjamina Parker,” he finally hissed out, “it is 10:30 at night!”

Penny winced. “I know, I know, I’m sorry!” 

Ben sighed, heavy and longsuffering. “Let me put on some real pants. Go grab your shoes. And don’t forget your coat!”

…

“We’re getting you a calendar, kid,” Uncle Ben told her as they walked along the sidewalk in the late autumn chill. “We’ll find room for it somewhere on those walls of yours.” 

“I’m sorry!” Penny said once again, wringing her hands. 

Ben looked down at her and sighed. Then he clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Yeah, Bug, I know. Just don’t let it happen again. Spare a little space for time management in that big ole brain of yours.” 

At some point, Ben’s hand on her shoulder moved to her back, guiding her along at a steady pace. The store they were heading to was a bit further than usual. Most bodegas didn’t sell much in the way of school supplies, and the stores that specialized in that kind of stuff were closed at this hour. Penny wasn’t used to being out this late and was struck by how different the streets seemed at night. But she was a born and raised New Yorker, so she knew better than to eye any of the groups of people they passed, even (especially) the ones who seemed a bit sketchy. 

The cold had started to set in by the time they finally made it through the doors — a bell cheerfully signaling their arrival — and Penny shivered in the sudden burst of heat. As she adjusted to her new surroundings, her eyes caught on a nearby display. She drifted over to it and looked back at her uncle hopefully.  

“Can I have some pickle chips?” she asked, batting her lashes sweetly. “Pretty please?”

Ben groaned and grabbed a bag off the shelf. “I should not be rewarding this behavior.” 

“Love you!” Penny chirped, skipping off with her chips in hand.

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, kid,” she heard Ben reply. “I’ll be waiting by the check-out.”

Penny meandered around until she found the little aisle of office supplies. The pickings were pretty slim, but she eventually came across a couple of packs of index cards on the bottom shelf. Mrs. Kemp was just gonna have to deal with the purple and yellow color scheme. 

As she made her way back up to the front of the store, Penny heard the bell over the door chime once again. She didn’t think anything of it — after all, if they were out shopping, why wouldn’t others be doing the same? — until she turned the corner to see a man in a balaclava training a sawed-off shotgun on the store clerk. 

Penny froze, like the blood in her veins had turned to ice. Sure, it was New York. Things like this happened every day. But they happened to other people. They happened on the news. She’d faced down death once before all those years ago at the Stark Expo, but she’d been too young then to understand. Too young to be properly afraid. And Iron Man probably wouldn’t be swooping in to save anyone this time. 

So, her uncle decided to do it instead. 

“Hey now, son,” he said. “Let’s everybody stay calm.”

“Shut the hell up, old man,” the robber said. “You’d mind your fucking business if you knew what’s good for you.” 

“No one has to get hurt,” Ben insisted, holding his hands up placatingly. “Put the gun down, son.” 

But he didn’t. Instead, he swung the gun around in a wide arc, aiming it away from the clerk. 

Aiming it right at Ben. 

“Call me ‘son’ one more fucking time,” the man growled. 

“Ben!” Penny yelped. 

Her uncle’s eyes went wide. He moved one arm forward, as if to warn her to stay back. 

And that was when the gun went off.

Blood on cracked linoleum. Blood on her hands. Dried flecks of blood flaking off her cheek. 

How was it dried already? That didn’t make sense. Not when it had only been moments since-

Blood on cracked linoleum. Blood on her hands. Blood streaked across the thighs of her jeans. Blood, blood, blood. It was everywhere, was everything . Where had it all come from? 

There was a man kneeling in front of her, lips moving as though he was speaking, but there was no sound coming out. Penny tried to take her eyes off all that blood, to focus on his lips. She could make out the shape of one word, repeated every so often: name. 

“Penny,” she said shakily, “Penny Parker.”

Then, as though her own words had opened up the floodgates, the world around Penny came pouring back in. 

Sirens blaring. Voices yelling. A shiny silver blanket wrapped around her shoulders. 

“Where - where’s Uncle Ben?” Penny stuttered out, struggling to untangle herself from the blanket and push herself up onto her hands and knees. “Ben?”

“Miss Parker…”

“Ben!”

Penny stumbled to her feet, staggering into one of the nearby shelves like her legs had suddenly lost the ability to support her own weight. 

“UNCLE BEN!” she screamed. 

“Miss Parker.”

She whirled back around to face the man — a cop, judging by the uniform. “Where is he? Where’s my uncle? He - he was bleeding. He needs help. Call - call an ambulance.”

She tripped over to the man and grabbed onto his jacket, staring up into his eyes with as much urgency and desperation as she could convey. “ Please . You have to call an ambulance. You have to help him.”

“Penny, honey,” he said, reaching up to gently grip her wrists. “You need to come with me.” 

Something over the cop’s shoulder caught Penny’s eye. A white sheet draped over something on the floor, stained at the center with blood. Bright red blood. 

“What - what is that?” 

“Penny-”

Not something. Some one . 

Penny started shaking. 

“Who is - is that - no, it can’t - no.” 

“Get her out of here!”

“I don’t - where is - no, no, no.” 

“Miss Parker, please .”

There was a shoe poking out from under the sheet. A familiar pair of loafers. She could almost hear the sound they made as her uncle lumbered down the hall. 

“Oh, God.” 

Penny crumpled and the world went black.

The funeral took place three days later, and Penny could barely remember a second of it. 

The wake came first, held at the church they visited maybe a handful of times per year. Penny recited the rosary by rote, down on her knees between Aunt May and Mary Jane. She vaguely listened as people she barely recognized got up and eulogized Ben, sharing their fondest memories and pithiest platitudes. When it came time for May to go, her aunt burst into uncontrollable sobs five words in. 

Penny didn’t bother trying to speak herself. In fact, she was pretty sure those Hail Mary’s and Our Father’s might have been the first words she’d said in days. 

They held the funeral mass the next morning, with a great deal more formality and far too much incense. When several vaguely familiar men carried the casket into the church, the world around Penny seemed to shift into a dreamlike state. She drifted through the readings and the homily, floated up to the altar to receive the Eucharist. She wiped a drop of the wine off her chin and stared down at it on her finger. Remembered blood on cracked linoleum, blood on her hands…

The world suddenly snapped back into focus halfway through the committal. She was standing there, detached, watching as they lowered the coffin into the ground — lowered Ben into the ground — and the next thing she knew, she was stumbling forward, the word “wait” poised on her tongue. But before she could speak or even make it more than a single step, a firm hand wrapped around her wrist and gently pulled her back into line. She glanced over her shoulder to see Aunt Anna slowly shaking her head. May seemed to have missed the whole exchange, her eyes firmly fixed on the box that held her husband of nearly thirty years.

“In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life

through our Lord Jesus Christ,

we commend to Almighty God our brother Benjamin

and we commit his body to the ground,

earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. 

 

The Lord bless him and keep him,

the Lord make His face to shine upon him

and be gracious to him, 

the Lord lift up His countenance upon him, 

and give him peace.”

There were more prayers, all asking for the same things — rest, blessings, peace. They ended with a prayer for Penny and May, that they would have hope, consolation, peace. Always that word: peace. 

“Go in the peace of Christ.”

“Thanks be to God.”

Then they went home, and somehow, that was the worst part. It’s amazing how much space a single life can take up. And how you never really realize it until that space is left empty. 

Chapter Text

Penny was standing in front of one of the corner store’s coolers, examining the available milk options, when she heard it. 

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

She scanned the cartons and plastic bottles, checking for any leaks, and found none. But still it continued. 

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

Penny slowly shut the glass door. She looked left then right, expecting to see condensation running down glass or maybe even a leak in the ceiling, but there was nothing out of place. No source for the sound in sight. 

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

There. Something red at the edge of her vision. Penny lowered her eyes, following individual drops of red as they fell to the ground below. She watched one splatter against the white toe of her Converse and go rolling slowly down the side to join an ever-growing puddle beneath her feet. 

Where was it all coming from? 

The puddle extended past her shoes and down the aisle, covering the ground in a thin layer of red. Penny walked forward, the liquid squelching beneath her rubber soles, searching for the source. As she rounded the corner, it seemed to get deeper, turning into a veritable pool. She was wading through it up to her knees, swimming through it as it bubbled up to her chest. And still, there was no source in sight. 

“Penny.”

She whirled around, coming face to face with her Uncle Ben. He was looking down at her with inscrutable eyes, studying her almost. 

“You’ve got blood on your hands,” he informed her. 

Penny looked down. And there it was. The wellspring from which this river flowed. 

There were holes in her palms like stigmata, blood pouring out in an endless stream. She tried to cup her hands together, to keep it contained, but it just continued to spill over the edges, to seep between her fingers. 

“Wha-what’s happening?” she asked, looking back up at Ben with sheer panic in her eyes. 

“I told you, Penny,” he said. “You’ve got blood on your hands. 

…

Penny bolted upright, clutching her chest as she gasped for breath. She was shaking, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. The way it dripped down the back of her neck reminded her of the drops from her dream. She couldn’t help it — she swiped a hand through the liquid to check for red. 

Nothing. Clear, of course. Penny shook her head, threw off the covers, and practically flung herself out of bed. 

She stumbled her way to the kitchen, wincing at the sunlight that streamed through the windows. It had to be some time in the early afternoon, judging by the angle of the light. And the growling of her stomach. Penny pulled the blinds and set to remedying the latter issue as well. 

They’d had quite the rotation of casseroles, pies, and various other pity dishes popping up on their doorstep for a couple of weeks — including one truly egregious iteration of tuna surprise that was borderline inedible but thankfully accompanied by a pack of Twizzlers addressed to Penny in choppy handwriting — but over time, the meals and the flowers and the cards offering condolences and pithy words of encouragement steadily trickled off until it was mostly just Aunt Anna periodically stocking their fridge with frozen homemade meals. 

Penny warmed up a serving of one at random, the buzz of the microwave the only sound in the otherwise silent apartment. May was back at work. She’d only had a few days of paid bereavement leave, and they didn’t have enough money for her to take much in the way of unpaid time off. Funerals, it turned out, were fucking expensive.

Penny still hadn’t gone back to school yet, and with Christmas break only a few days away, she probably wasn’t going to until after the New Year. She’d been exempt from her exams “in light of the traumatic and distressing circumstances surrounding her uncle’s death.” Penny was pretty sure that was code for “we all think you’re one wrong move from completely cracking, so please stay home and have your breakdown there.” 

And stay home she had. Penny couldn’t remember the last time she’d crossed the apartment’s threshold. In fact, she barely left her bedroom. It was the only space where she felt some semblance of peace, away from prying eyes and probing questions. 

At least, that sense of peace lasted until she fell asleep. Then the nightmares came. 

Spending the vast majority of her time in bed also had the added bonus of discouraging visitors, of which there had been a surprising number calling on Penny specifically. Ned and MJ, of course. Michelle. A few other kids from school, mostly fellow members of the Robotics Club and the Science Olympiad team. And, to Penny’s surprise, Gwen. 

She hadn’t seen a single one. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She’d seen Mary Jane twice, because her friend had very little in the way of personal boundaries and would treat Penny’s closed bedroom door like a mild suggestion at best. Which is why Penny adopted a specific strategy for dealing with her. 

Every time MJ knocked, Penny beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom. Then a battle of wills commenced, testing Mary Jane’s patience against Penny’s resolve. The longest Mary Jane had lasted waiting on the couch thus far had been two hours and thirty-seven minutes. But she always left eventually. 

Well, apparently her friend had decided to up her game. When Penny heard a knock on the door, she thought nothing of answering. It was 1:30 in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Everyone she knew was in school. Anna was probably just delivering another casserole. 

But nope, there stood Mary Jane, eyes blazing with the determination of a soldier marching into battle. 

“I told Anna I was having borderline apocalyptic cramps so I could cut my last two classes and avoid your whole sudden onset IBS routine,” she informed Penny roundly. 

Penny gaped. “I’m not - it isn’t -”

“Whatever you say, Penn. Now move aside, I’m coming in.” 

Mary Jane strolled in like she owned the place, which was admittedly her normal way of walking into any given room. She examined the apartment with the critical eye — taking in the half eaten lasagna on the kitchen counter, the growing pile of dishes in the sink — then turned to scan over Penny. 

“You look like shit,” she observed. 

Penny didn’t even have the energy to be offended. She knew MJ was right. She hadn’t showered in four days, hadn’t changed her clothes in almost three. She honestly had no idea when she’d last brushed her teeth. 

So Penny just sighed and said, “Gee, I wonder why.”

“I’ve been trying to be a good friend,” Mary Jane continued undeterred, “to give you your space, but this has gone way past that.”

Penny wanted to ask how exactly her friend defined “space” because it certainly didn’t seem to fit any definition that she was familiar with, but she didn’t want a fight. She just wanted to be left alone. 

“I’m fine,” Penny said instead. “I’m just - just tired.”

“Actually, I believe the term you’re looking for is ‘clinically depressed’.”

“I’m not-”

“ Yes , you are,” Mary Jane insisted, voice firm and unwavering. “You’re allowed to be. Entitled, even. But I’m done sitting around waiting for this to pass. You don’t have to talk about it. You don’t even have to talk at all. But you’re gonna get your ass out of that bed for at least four hours a day if I have to chain you to the couch to make it happen.”

“How is sitting on the couch any better than laying in bed?” Penny protested. 

“Because at least out here I can keep an eye on you. Make sure you aren’t sinking too deep into that black hole you call a brain.” 

“You don’t really sink into black holes. That’s not how that works.” 

Mary Jane rolled her eyes. “Okay, smartass. Getting sucked in. Whatever works for you.” She whipped a pack of Twizzlers out of nowhere and held them out to Penny. “Now go park your ass on that couch and eat this disgusting, barely edible crap you love. I spent my hard earned allowance on those glorified ropes of plastic.”

And, really, what else could Penny do but listen?

…

When May Parker got home from her shift at the hospital, the sink was free of dishes and two teenage girls were lying tangled up on the couch. 

As soon as May came into view, Mary Jane held a finger to her lips and glanced down pointedly. May followed her gaze to see Penny’s head resting in her lap, her face smooth with sleep and looking so painfully young. 

Mary Jane reached down and brushed a couple of curls out of her face. “She’s gonna be okay,” she whispered with great conviction. 

May smiled. “Yeah, honey, she is.”

Christmas was always a weird time of year. 

Mary Jane was usually gone for basically all of winter break, visiting family in the Midwest with Aunt Anna and Gale. Ned’s moms – who didn’t celebrate the holiday – typically dragged him along on some sort of cruise or vaguely educational road trip. And May was normally working odd hours because medical emergencies occur 365 days a year and, in fact, seem to only increase around major holidays – at least, if her stories were anything to go by. 

Case in point: it was currently the night of Christmas Eve, and May and Penny were sitting on the couch discussing a full-grown adult who’d managed to get a candy cane stuck up his nose instead of acknowledging the giant elephant in the room:

This was their very first Christmas as a family of two. And they wouldn’t even be spending the majority of it together. 

May was working a shift tomorrow on Christmas day. She clearly felt guilty about it – leaving Penny alone for the holiday – but they made the schedule weeks in advance. And since May had gotten Thanksgiving day off, it was customary for her to work Christmas. She probably could’ve gotten someone to agree to take her shift in light of recent tragic and pity-inducing events, but Penny told her not to worry about it. Besides, they needed the money. 

Penny didn’t know the details — May always just told her not to worry when she started asking questions — but it was obvious they were struggling to make ends meet. Not only had May returned to work quickly, but she’d also started picking up more and more night shifts for the extra pay. 

Then there were all the phone calls that Penny overheard, mostly to the life insurance company. They kept refusing to pay, something about the “ongoing investigation.” It sounded like a bunch of bullshit to Penny. The investigation was only ongoing because the guy hadn’t been caught, or even identified really. But it wasn’t like there was any dispute about what had happened. Her uncle had been murdered. It was pretty cut and dry. 

After all, Penny had seen it firsthand. 

“Honey, I was thinking,” May said, bringing Penny out of her rapidly spiraling thoughts. “How would you like to go ahead and open one of your gifts tonight? We can save the rest for when I get home tomorrow evening, but I think this one will give you something fun to do with your day. Knowing you, you’ll have the manual memorized backwards and forwards by the time I get off.”

Penny was admittedly intrigued by the word “manual.” She did like figuring out how shit worked. 

“Okay, yeah, sure. Why not?” 

A few minutes later, Aunt May presented her with two neatly wrapped boxes, one slightly smaller than the other. “They go together,” she explained. 

As Penny tore away the paper from the first box, she found herself taking in a sudden, sharp breath. 

It was beautiful . 

Emblazoned on the side of the cardboard box was a picture of an absolutely gorgeous black camera — sleek, shiny, the sort of thing a real photographer would use. 

“Aunt May…” Penny breathed. “This - this is too much.” 

“Ben got it for you, actually,” she corrected, “One of those Black Friday deals. He was so excited.” 

May’s lips briefly stretched into a small, fond smile. Penny felt her own throat tighten. 

“You just seemed so devastated when your old one got broken,” May continued, “and you’ve always loved taking pictures. He said he figured it was time for an upgrade. The other box is a set of lenses.” 

Penny’s hands moved to hover over the second present, but she couldn’t bring herself to open it. 

“You - you could return it,” Penny forced out. “Or maybe sell it. If we need the money, I mean. I wouldn’t be upset.”

May’s face fell. “Oh, Penelope.” 

“I mean, this - it has to be worth, like, at least a week of rent. And I know we need-”

“Let me worry about what we need,” May interjected firmly. “That’s my job. But Ben wanted you to have this, and so you shall.” 

Penny bit her cheek and looked back down at the box in her lap. She traced a finger over the image reverently. “Thank you,” she choked out, voice thick. 

May softened. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Now open it! I expect to have professional-grade images to hang on my walls before the month is out.”

…

Their night ended early. May had work the next morning, and Penny had skipped making and decorating cookies, a Christmas Eve tradition. May hadn’t commented on the aberration. That was Penny and Ben’s thing. It just didn’t feel that same without him. 

They watched A Christmas Story together, cuddled up on the couch with fuzzy socks, fleece blankets, and hot cocoa. May laughed in all the right places, but something about it was off. Forced. 

Brittle.  

It was obvious that May had been trying to stay strong, to put up a facade around Penny. There was a part of Penny — the good, generous part — that loved her for it. That appreciated her efforts to ease the burden of Penny’s grief by not contributing her own. But the other part — the bitter, resentful part — was angry. Angry that she clearly thought Penny too weak and delicate to so much as shed a tear around her since the day of the funeral. Angry that she wouldn’t share the details of their financial struggles for fear of worrying Penny. 

Angry that, deep down, she knew May was right to think her fragile. 

After they separated for bed, Penny stayed awake for a little while, combing through the user manual of her new camera. About an hour later, she left her room to get a glass of water, which was when she heard it. 

Crying. Coming from behind the other bedroom door. 

Penny crept forward on silent feet, hand reaching out tentatively. Stopping just short of the door knob, she hesitated. Took a step back. Then Penny went back to her bed, where she laid staring up at the ceiling, unable to let herself drift off to sleep. She knew what she’d see in her dreams. 

Blood on crack linoleum. Blood on her hands. 

Blood on her hands…

You know the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon? How they say that anyone who works in Hollywood can be connected back to Kevin Bacon in six steps or less? It seemed to Penny that something similar existed between every single Irish person in New York City. 

May had the phone on speaker as she sat at the kitchen table, sorting through an ever-growing pile of bills. 

“Maybelle,” said Gertrude O’Malley, an octogenarian who Penny had the vague sense she was distantly related to. “I heard from Jamie Brennan’s fiancé’s aunt that you’re in the market for a lawyer.” 

“Well, yes, you heard correctly.” Aunt May sighed. “Unfortunately.”

Penny wasn’t totally clear if the unfortunate part was the need for a lawyer or the fact that tales of their financial woes had already spread so far. 

“There’s this lovely boy — he goes to my cousin’s church — speaking of church, Maybelle, if you’re ever looking to get back into The Church, I think you would just adore our new priest. I know it’s a bit of a trek for you but-“

“Now, Gertie,” May interjected, “you know I never left The Church.” 

They always called Catholicism that: The Church, as though there was only one. 

“Mhmm,” Gertrude responded, like old ladies do when they think you’re lying. 

“Anyway, about this lawyer your niece knows…?”

“ Cousin . You remember Birdie?”

“Of course. I hope she’s doing well.” 

“Oh, she is! You know, you just had her fourth great-grandchild. Poor thing has a god awful name, though. Some type of fruit or color or something.”

“Oh, how lovely for her. So this lawyer…”

“Ah, yes! Such a lovely young man. Does a lot of work for his community. Willing to work for little to nothing for a good cause. Birdie says he’s very handsome, too, even with the glasses. And she assures me that his disability doesn’t impact the quality of his work one bit…”

Penny had been able to tell that her aunt was sold after the words “little to nothing.” So that was how she found herself standing outside the office of Nelson, Murdock, and Page a couple of days before the New Year. And by office, she meant a butcher shop. 

“Well this isn’t sketchy at all.”

“Penny, hush. If they really do work for as little as Gertrude claimed, I doubt they can afford anywhere fancy.” 

“Think they get a discount on lunch, too?”

Aunt May released a heavy sigh. “Just please try to be polite. We’re running out of options.”

Penny couldn’t help but bristle a bit. “You didn’t have to bring me, you know,” she reminded May. 

“You know Anna had that doctor’s appointment this morning.”

“It’s a real shame fourteen year olds notoriously can’t survive for two hours on their own.”

“Penny, please ,” May practically begged. 

Penny knew she was being a brat. She knew her attitude was shitty. But she was getting real tired of May’s sudden helicopter tendencies. It’s like your aunt comes home one time to find you hyperventilating while sitting fully-clothed in a cold bath, and suddenly you can’t go more than five minutes without adult supervision. 

They walked inside, where a sign informed them that the law office was located in the back. May looked like she couldn’t quite decide whether she was supposed to knock or walk right in. Conventional office etiquette didn’t seem to apply in a situation like this. She settled instead for easing the door open very slowly and hesitantly, like an unslaughtered animal might be waiting to attack. 

“Hello?” May called out. 

“Hi, come in, come in!” said a blonde man as he leapt to his feet from behind a cluttered desk. 

There were two other people in the crammed back room — a drop dead gorgeous blonde woman and a dark haired guy wearing red glasses. For a second, Penny was contemplating the douche-factor of wearing sunglasses indoors, then she noticed the white cane leaning against his desk and realized that she, in fact, was the douche. 

Mr. Not-a-Douche stood up and felt his way closer to the door, Beautiful Blonde Lady following in his wake. When he was a few feet away, he stopped and held out his hand. “Hello, you must be Mrs. Parker. Bridget McCarthy has spoken very highly of you.”

“Oh, Birdie is always too kind,” May said demurely as she extended her hand to shake his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And this is my niece, Penelope.”

Penny, admittedly, did not pay a great deal of attention during the introductions part, so she wasn’t entirely clear on who exactly was Nelson, Murdock, or Page. Instead, she’d been too busy taking in the spread of produce, pies, and various covered dishes scattered across seemingly every available surface. It kinda looked like their apartment had a few weeks ago. Penny couldn’t help but wonder who had died. 

“Ah,” the blonde guy said, “I see you’ve noticed the literal fruits of our labor.”

“Your what?”

“Many of our clients can’t afford to pay us in more traditional ways.”

Penny regarded the spread of consumables with growing suspicion. “How do you afford to, like, live if you’re primarily paid in fruit and baked goods?” 

Aunt May looked like she wanted to sink straight into the floor, but the man took her somewhat-snide question in stride. 

“I’m bankrolled by my significantly higher-earning fiancée,” he informed them. “Karen puts in, like, hundred hour work weeks so she can do this, PI work, and freelance journalism. And Matt…well, we don’t really know about Matt, and we’re not too sure we want to ask.”

The other lawyer — Matt, it seemed — did a sort of full body eye roll that managed to be evident in spite of his opaque glasses and huffed out an exasperated, “Foggy,” but did not otherwise confirm nor deny whether he was involved in some sketchy shit. 

“Mhmm,” Penny responded skeptically, channeling her inner Gertrude.

“Penny, it’s not any of our business how they make ends meet,” Aunt May chastised with an extremely pointed look. “It is incredibly kind and charitable of them to do so much work free of cost.” 

“Yeah, unless this is a money laundering front.” 

The blonde lawyer — Foggy , apparently. What was he? A Scottish moor at night? — choked on his sip of water. The lady not-a-lawyer covered her mouth with her hand, not quite effectively hiding her smile. Even Dark and Stoic lawyer’s lips twitched a bit. 

May, though? Yeah, she was not amused. 

“Penelope Benjamina Parker, not another word!” she ordered. 

“What?! I’m sorry if I don’t want you to hire criminals!”

“Hey,” Foggy cut in with an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, “that's a little on the slanderous side, kid.”

“I didn’t say you were criminals, I said I don’t want my aunt to hire any.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing we aren’t. In fact,” Foggy leaned forward with a conspiratory glance around the room, like he was about to share some big secret or something. “We help take down criminals. You ever heard of Wilson Fisk?” 

“Yeah,” Penny said slowly. Suspiciously. “He’s the shady crime boss Daredevil took down.”

“Daredevil and us ,” Foggy corrected. “We built the case that put him behind bars. Daredevil just did most of the legwork.”

Penny’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “You’ve worked with Daredevil? That’s so cool!” 

The blonde woman’s lips immediately curved up in a wide grin. “Hear that, Matt? It’s so cool.”

“Yeah, Karen. My ears work just fine, thanks.”

“Penny is a bit of a fan,” Aunt May explained. 

“What’s he like?” Penny breathed.

“Oh, you know,” Foggy said, “red, growly, stupid little pointy horns.”

“I like the horns,” Penny quickly defended. “They’re thematic. Superheroes are supposed to have a theme.”

“Yes,” Karen said. “ Superheroes certainly are.”

Mr. No-Fun-Lawyer heaved a big sigh as he fiddled with his glasses impatiently. “Perhaps we should get back to discussing the case.” 

“Yes, yes, of course,” Aunt May agreed quickly. “Penny?”

“Yeah, fine. I’ll shut up.”

“Thank you, dear.” 

Penny sat there, bored out of her mind, as May handed over various documents and the two men threw out phrases loaded down with legal jargon. She was debating asking where the bathroom was so she could go play on her phone in peace when the cracking sound of a gunshot suddenly ripped through the air. 

Blood on cracked linoleum. Blood on her hands.  

(No, no, no, no, no.)

Oh god, it’s pouring out of him. She can’t stop it. There’s a gaping hole in his chest, blood bubbling up like a freaking fountain, and he isn’t breathing . 

“Penny?”

Oh dear God, why isn’t he breathing?

(No, no, please God, no!)

“Penny!”

Blood on her hands...

(Stop! Make it stop!)

“Penelope, look at me!” 

“No!”

A sharp sudden chill on the back of her neck. Then Penny inhaled, taking in great gulps of air like she’d just cracked the surface, like she’d been drowning. 

“Wha-what?” she gasped, eyes darting around frantically. 

Penny was sitting on the floor, knees tucked up against her chest. Her aunt was kneeling next to her, tears streaming down her face. The two blondes — she had known their names before, couldn’t remember them now to save her life — they were staring at her with twin horrified expressions. And the other one — Matt, he had been called Matt — was squatted down in front of her, arm reaching forward to press what felt like a paper towel full of ice against the back of her neck. 

“What happened?” Penny managed to force out. She found herself staring at the man before her. Everyone else was looking at her — eyes full of pity and sorrow and concern and a thousand other emotions she wasn’t prepared to handle right now — but he couldn’t see her. And she couldn’t see whatever was going on in his eyes behind those obfuscating red glasses. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” May choked out, reaching for her.

Penny flinched. May dropped her hand. 

“You’re alright, Penelope,” Matt told her. “Take a deep breath for me. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.”

Penny followed his instructions, drawing thin breath into shaky lungs. 

“Good,” he told her. “Again.”

They sat on the ratty carpet, just breathing together, for God only knew how long. Penny tried her best to ignore their audience, to focus on the way Matt’s hand had shifted from cupping the back of her neck to resting lightly on her shoulder. 

At some point, Matt seemed to deem her capable of breathing unguided. 

“Karen?” he said. 

“Yes?” the woman answered quickly. 

“Could you get Penny some tea, please? There’s some peppermint in the second drawer.” 

“Yes, sure. Absolutely.”

She hurried off, and Matt’s hand slid down to Penny’s elbow. 

“Are you ready to get up?” he asked. 

Penny just bobbed her head up and down, suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. She didn’t even realize her mistake until the other man — Foggy, she remembered now — said, “she just nodded, buddy.” 

Matt gently tugged her up off the floor as Foggy did the same to her aunt. Penny stood on shaky legs, graceless and artless as a newborn fawn, and Matt didn’t let go until he’d managed to guide her back into her chair. Penny had no memory of leaving it in the first place. 

After Karen returned with the tea, the three coworkers all began to engage in some kind of silent conversation over Penny’s head. She wasn’t really sure how unspoken communication worked in the blind one’s case, but they all seemingly wound up on the same page anyway. 

“Penelope,” Foggy said, “would you like to wait in the deli while we wrap things up? I bet I can get my brother to throw in some free ham. You like ham?”

Penny shrugged. “Ham is fine.”

A couple of minutes later, Penny was all set up at a little table in the other room. Foggy’s brother — his nametag identified him as Theo — had in fact thrown in a whole free sandwich, which Penny took as a sign that she looked even more pathetic and pitiful than she’d originally assumed. 

The walls were pretty thin, a fact which seemingly had not been shared with her aunt. 

“She’s traumatized,” she heard May say. “But she absolutely refuses to acknowledge it.”

“Yeah,” Foggy said, “I know the type.”

“It’ll get better,” Matt said. “She just needs time.”

“You’re good with her. It seemed like you knew exactly what to do,” Aunt May probed with very little subtlety. 

“I lost my father to gun violence,” Matt explained. “I was a few years younger than her at the time.”

“And your mother?”

“She…wasn’t around.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m being nosy. It’s none of my business.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Matt reassured her. “Your curiosity is understandable. There isn’t a playbook for this type of thing.” 

“So it did get better? For you?”

“Yes,” Matt said. “Yes, of course. It’s like they say, time heals all wounds.”

Penny wondered if her aunt could hear the lie in his voice, too.

Chapter Text

There were many side-effects that resulted from Uncle Ben’s death. Major emotional turmoil and trauma, obviously. But other stuff, too. Like a significant reduction in homecooked meals and a precipitous increase in Chinese takeout. Or more nights that Penny spent alone in the apartment while May worked and fewer mornings that she woke up to the smell of fresh coffee brewing. Then there was the fact that they were flat broke, or at the very least would be until Nelson, Murdock, and Page came through.

One major side-effect that Penny likely should have expected but really, truly did not welcome was therapy. Aka, her weekly session of Mental Torture and Forced Emotional Anguish. 

…

Dr. Brewer was a “licensed clinical child psychologist” — as her business cards proudly proclaimed — which meant that her office was decorated with peel-and-stick decals of barn animals and a ton of brightly colored furniture. It also meant that Penny had to listen to a bunch of squealing children while waiting for her biweekly appointments. So by the time they called her name and she waved goodbye to May, her nerves were already frayed. 

“Good afternoon, Penny,” Dr. Brewer greeted, like always. “How have you been since our last appointment?” 

“Fine,” Penny replied. Like always. 

“Hmm.” Dr. Brewer spent a moment scribbling in her notebook. She seemed to get a shocking amount of information from the word “fine.” 

She glanced back up at Penny, perfectly placid, as she continued writing. “Have you been taking the medications Dr. Singh prescribed?” 

“Yep.”

Dr. Singh was Penny’s psychiatrist — because, apparently, she needed one of those now — and he’d given her prescriptions for both an SSRI and an “emergency” benzo. Because, apparently, she needed those, too. 

“And have you seen any effects, positive or negative?” 

“They’re fine.”

“Hmm.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble. 

“How have you been?” Penny asked. She was polite like that. 

Dr. Brewer smiled. “I’m doing great, Penny. Thanks for asking.” 

Penny was tempted to pull out a notebook and write something down. Just to see how she liked it. 

“Tell me, Penny, are you still having nightmares?”

Yes. 

“Not really.”

Dr. Brewer raised an eyebrow. “Is that a no?”

“I guess I am. Sometimes.” 

Dr. Brewer wrote something down. “Your aunt has expressed concern over your sleeping patterns. She says you seem to alternate between too much and too little.” 

“I’m a teenager,” Penny snarked. “Isn’t that what we do?”

“Penelope,” Dr. Brewer said, unflappable as always. “Your aunt isn’t trying to tattle on you or talk about you behind your back. She just wants to make sure that you get the help you need.” 

“What if I don’t need any help?” Penny demanded. 

“It’s my professional opinion that you do.”

“Well, what if I don’t want it?” 

Dr. Brewer put her notebook down in her lap and fixed Penny with a penetrating gaze over her glasses.  “What do you want, Penelope?”

Penny swallowed around the growing lump in her throat. “I want my uncle. I want my parents. I want to know that everyone else will stay .”

“I can’t give you those things,” Dr. Brewer told her gently. “No one can. What do you want that you can have?” 

Penny recalled Uncle Ben’s funeral and the one word she’d heard over and over again. It had sounded so impossible at the time. Still did, to tell the truth. 

“Peace,” she said. “I just want a little peace.”

Another side-effect of her uncle’s death — this one completely unexpected, though certainly not unwelcome — was that Gwen almost seemed to take Penny under her wing following their return to school after the winter break ended.  

It started the first day back, which wasn’t even one of the days they had Chemistry together. No, instead, Gwen sought her out in the freshman locker hall during morning break.

…

It was no secret that Penny was dreading her return to school. She could still remember what it was like switching elementaries mid-year after her parents’ death. Everyone in her new class had somehow known and all the other little first graders wouldn’t stop gawking at her. She’d felt exposed, like a raw nerve. The memory was painful and unpleasant, and she had no interest in reliving or repeating it. But, unfortunately, she had to go back eventually. 

(New York law said so — she’d asked Mr. Nelson when he and Mr. Murdock had come over to talk to her aunt.)

Mary Jane had clearly appointed herself Penny’s unofficial bodyguard because she barely left her side from the time they walked together to the bus stop that morning. She escorted Penny to her first class — even though it was way out of her way — and somehow materialized to pick her up immediately after the bell rang. As they made their way through the halls, Mary Jane mean-mugged at anyone who dared look at Penny even a little bit funny. It was surprisingly effective, ensuring a solid three foot radius free of sympathizers at any given time. 

There was a moment when Penny thought Flash, in his ceaseless quest to make her life miserable, was going to manage to break past the invisible barrier. He walked right up to them and opened his mouth to speak, but then he took in MJ’s stormy expression, turned tail, and fled. 

It was positively glorious. 

Then Penny turned the corner and saw her there — Gwen, leaning right against her locker. Penny didn’t even know how she knew which one was hers, but she was clearly there with a purpose. As soon as she caught Penny’s eye, Gwen gave her a soft smile and a wave. 

“MJ,” Penny said. “Gwen’s on the Approved List. Don’t glare her away.”

The Approved List had previously included Mary Jane, Ned, and Michelle. Penny was currently minimizing interactions with all other students at school. She hadn’t even thought to include Gwen in the first place truth be told. She hadn’t envisioned the need to. Why would Gwen even want to see her, especially after Penny had snubbed her the single time she’d tried to pay her a visit?

“Hey, Gwen,” Penny greeted once she’d reached her locker. “What’s up? Is there a chemistry-”

“Oh, no! Nothing like that!” Gwen exclaimed. “I just wanted to come say ‘hi.’ To check in. I thought about texting after that time I came by but I - I didn’t want to smother you. I know what it was like, after my mom…”

And, yeah. Penny probably should’ve remembered that before now. Gwen had lost her mom two years ago, when she was Penny’s age. She’d told Penny about it, in the simplest of terms, the day she’d gone over to her house. There had been an urn up on the mantle, surrounded by a smattering of framed photographs, all featuring a pretty blonde woman who bore a striking resemblance to Gwen. 

“That’s my mom,” Gwen had said when she’d noticed Penny eying the pictures. “She passed away a few years ago. Breast cancer.” 

Penny hadn’t said I’m sorry for your loss because she knew that never really helped. It made you feel separate. Alone. Isolated. Emphasized that it was y our loss, not theirs. 

So, instead, she had looked Gwen in the eye and said: “I’m sorry you had to go through that. It’s awful. My parents died when I was six. Plane crash.”

Gwen hadn’t said anything else about it, but she’d given Penny this look . And she’d felt seen . 

So today, Gwen repaid her the same favor. She didn’t say that she was sorry for Penny’s loss. She didn’t offer useless platitudes. She simply reminded Penny that she had Gwen’s number, and that she was free to call or text whenever. 

Then she handed over a small square tin.

“Lemon crinkle cookies,” Gwen said with a smile. “I figured you probably liked them, since you brought them over that one time. You’ll have to tell me if they’re good. I found the recipe online.”

She walked away, and Penny glanced inside the box. A full dozen. Gwen had made them just for her.

But one particular unfortunate side-effect of her uncle’s death had been both unexpected AND unwelcome. 

…

“Penelope, we should have left ten minutes ago!” Aunt May called. “We’re going to be late!”

“Coming!” Penny hollered back as she hopped across her room, tugging on her loafers. 

“God was willing to die for my sins,” she muttered under her breath. “I think he’ll excuse a bit of tardiness.”

Because, yeah, apparently they were a Church Family now. 

They’d always been a Catholic household, but like casual Catholics. Catholic Lite, if you will. She was baptized as a baby, had her First Communion back in elementary school. They went to Mass on all the important Jesus-y holidays, like his birthday and his death day. They’d given Uncle Ben the Catholic funeral rites. But now, they did Sunday morning Mass. Every. Single. Week. Penny felt positively inundated with religion. 

There were seemingly several contributing factors to their newfound piety. May needed reassurance, the chance to imagine her husband in a better place where she would one day see him again. His sudden, unexpected death had also seemingly reminded her of the ephemeral and uncertain nature of life. At the time of his death, Ben hadn’t stepped foot in a church in months, let alone gone to Confession. And he certainly hadn’t been afforded the opportunity to receive Last Rites. Penny suspected that May felt a newfound obligation to keep their souls in tip-top shape. Just in case. 

But most of all, Penny blamed Matthew freaking Murdock. 

After her mild freak-out at the office and Mr. Murdock’s subsequent divulgence of his own childhood tragedy, he and May had struck up an odd sort of camaraderie. At first, Penny had been deeply concerned that the lawyer had been trying to put the moves on her poor, grieving aunt. Or, even worse, that May was reacting to Ben’s untimely death with some sort of crisis cougar phase. But, fortunately, she had yet to see any hard evidence that Mr. Murdock was macking on her aunt. That didn’t mean she wasn’t keeping an eye out, though. Just that, for now, she chose to believe that he was truly trying to help. 

But why did his help have to include so much freaking church ? 

It all started with an acknowledgement that he would be praying for their family and a relatively innocent invitation for them to join him for Mass any time. Countless similar invites had been issued since Ben’s death, and none had come to fruition, so Penny hadn’t been terribly concerned at the time, especially seeing as an hour commute — one-way — to attend Sunday service seemed like a pretty disqualifying inconvenience. 

Well, apparently, that was the whole appeal. 

It seemed like everybody and their dog knew about Ben’s death out in Queen’s. But at Clinton Church, things were different. They weren’t constantly bombarded by well-meaning questions: How are you? Is there anything I can do? 

Terrible. 

Unless you’re a necromancer, nope. 

Penny had taken to bringing her backpack with her to church, which May didn’t seem too thrilled about, though her aunt could hardly deny that the nearly hour-long commute wasn’t the perfect time to work on her assignments. So as long as all textbooks and calculators stayed firmly within the bag during the service, she kept her opinions to herself. 

They took the E Train from Forest Hills to 50th, then walked the rest of the way to Clinton Church. As per usual, Mr. Murdock was waiting for them right inside the entry.

“Good morning, Matthew!” May called. 

“Good morning, May, Penelope,” Mr. Murdock greeted as he turned to face them. 

“Oh!” May exclaimed, pressing a hand over her mouth. “What happened to you, honey?” 

Penny — resolutely ignoring the word “honey” because ew  — examined Mr. Murdock’s face with narrowed eyes. His bottom lip was swollen and split on the left. On the same side, his cheekbone was bruised, though it seemed he’d put (ineffective) effort into covering it up with a bit of makeup. 

Mr. Murdock smiled sheepishly. “Ran into a door frame at home. I’m afraid I can be a bit overconfident sometimes in familiar environments.” 

Penny wasn’t stupid and neither was her aunt. She could tell by the look on May’s face that they both knew he was lying — this dude had totally gotten punched in the face — but neither of them called him out on it. 

Mr. Murdock led them over to the font, where they all dipped their fingers into the holy water and made the sign of the cross. May continued to fret over him even after they’d genuflected and slipped into a pew near the back. 

Fortunately for Mr. Murdock, May was not able to keep up her mother henning for very long because they had arrived just moments before the service started. Penny had to pay attention during the first part — there were all these gestures and responses and stuff — but she was able to zone out a bit during the homily. 

“Would you mind escorting me?” Mr. Murdock asked her aunt quietly when it came time for Communion. Penny scowled as she walked behind the two of them arm-in-arm. 

May lingered after the service ended so Mr. Murdock could give her a brief update on the status of their insurance claim. Penny hooked her thumbs in the straps of her backpack and looked around, engaging in a bit of people watching since her aunt had made it abundantly clear that her phone was to never emerge from her bag when they were on holy ground. Which is why Penny noticed the itty bitty nun making her way towards them with great determination and intent. 

“Matthew,” the nun greeted once she’d reached them. 

Mr. Murdock looked somewhat pained. “Sister Maggie,” he returned. 

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” the nun prompted. “I’ve seen the both of you here the past few Sundays, and I’ve been looking for an opportunity to come say ‘hello.’”

“Hi, Sister, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” her aunt said, extending her hand. “I’m May Parker, and this is my niece, Penelope.”

Sister Maggie shook her hand, looking oddly self-satisfied. “It’s very nice to meet the both of you. Matthew rarely brings guests.”

“Yes, well, the Parkers happened to be looking for a new church, so I thought I would extend the invitation,” Mr. Murdock explained, though there was something odd about his tone. Tired, almost. Resigned, even.

“Do the two of you live in Hell’s Kitchen?” Sister Maggie inquired. 

“Queens, actually,” May corrected. “Forest Hills to be more exact.” 

“That’s a bit of a trek, is it not?”

May shrugged. “We don’t mind the journey.”

Speak for yourself , Penny thought. She used to have two days a week to sleep in. 

As though she sensed Penny’s less than generous thoughts, the nun turned her sharp eyes her way. 

“How old are you, Penelope?” she asked. 

“Fourteen,” Penny mumbled. 

“Oh, you’re quite tall for your age, aren’t you?”

And this lady seemed pretty short for any age, but Penny wasn’t about to say that. The Sister might be little, but she had the intimidation factor of someone twice her size. Penny wondered if that was a nun thing or just a her thing. 

“Uh, I guess,” she replied instead. 

“I actually have a question that I think you might be able to help me with, Sister,” May interjected. 

The nun finally released Penny from her gaze, turning back to May with a polite smile. “Yes, of course.”

“I know that Penny is about the right age to go through Confirmation. How would we go about initiating that process here?”

Penny shot her aunt a wide-eyed look, blindsided. This topic had certainly not come up for discussion as of yet. Penny was hit with the sudden suspicion that she might currently be trapped in some sort of well-intentioned plot to forcibly save her soul, whether she liked it or not. 

“Well, what grade is Penelope currently in?”

“Ninth.”

“We typically Confirm the members of our Parish in the spring of their eighth grade year, following two years of preparation,” Sister Maggie began. “But since Penelope has already passed that milestone, she might qualify for an accelerated program, like the adults seeking Confirmation receive. Tell me, was she baptized into the church?”

“Yes, as an infant,” May confirmed. “And she’s received her First Communion as well.”

“Has she been involved in your local Parish since?”

May’s expression slipped into something between embarrassed and contrite. “Well, no, not really. I’m afraid that we have not been as… steadfast in our faith as we should have been.”

“Yes, well, you’re far from the first,” Sister Maggie said wryly. “I can talk it over with Father Antonio, though I recommend you meet with him yourself to further discuss what the process would entail. Do you have a sponsor in mind for Penelope? A godparent, perhaps?”

And now Aunt May just looked sad. “Well, my late husband and I were her godparents, actually. But we have been raising Penny since her parents passed and, as far as I understand, it is frowned upon for a guardian to sponsor their own child.”

“Yes, that’s true,” the sister confirmed then, casual as you please, she dropped a freaking bomb into the conversation. “If you find yourself pressed for choices, I’m sure Matthew would be more than happy to do it.” 

“ Excuse me? ” Penny blurted. 

Mr. Murdock looked like he wanted to say something along the same lines, but clearly he was more practiced at holding his tongue.

“That is a very kind offer. Isn’t it Penny?” May asked with a pointed glare at her niece. “But we wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be,” Sister Maggie reassured her. “In fact, I believe it would be a wonderful opportunity for Matthew to grow in his faith.” 

The sister turned her own pointed look towards Mr. Murdock. Which seemed like it’d be kinda useless in his case, but maybe she had special nun powers because he immediately looked somewhat cowed. 

Penny was almost impressed. They’d literally just met, and somehow Aunt May and Sister Maggie had managed to enter into a plot together. Were all old ladies this conniving? Was this a skill that Penny would also develop with age? 

May glanced between the nun and Mr. Murdock. “If you’re absolutely sure…”

Mr. Murdock smiled with a bit too much charm to be genuine. “Yes, of course. I’d be more than happy to.”

“Wonderful!” Sister Maggie exclaimed, clapping Mr. Murdock on the shoulder. It was a bit of a reach for her, but he still winced like she’d packed a surprising punch. “In fact, I think you should start this very afternoon!”

Chapter Text

“Would you mind if I go run a couple of errands?” May asked the second they arrived at their destination. 

Penny, Aunt May, and Mr. Murdock were standing on the sidewalk outside a Hell’s Kitchen diner that was just a couple blocks from Clinton Church. Apparently you couldn’t eat before receiving the Eucharist, so Penny was absolutely starving every Sunday afternoon. She had flat-out refused to entertain any further discussion of religious rites without sustenance. 

“No, of course not,” Mr. Murdock reassured her aunt. “Go ahead.”

“What?!” Penny demanded with a bit more panic than intended. “You’re leaving me?” 

May reached out to cup her cheek. “I won’t go far, honey. And I’ll be back within the hour. You can call me if you need me.” 

Traitor. 

May scampered off on her merry little way while Penny followed Mr. Murdock into the diner like a woman on the way to her own execution. They seated themselves, and he immediately slid a stack of papers in Penny’s direction. 

“Sister Maggie had someone print out the basic Confirmation curriculum,” he informed her, “but unfortunately, you’re going to have to read it to me.” 

“Why do I -” 

Mr. Murdock simply tapped the side of his glasses. 

“Oh. Yeah. Right.”

Penny quickly flipped through the first couple of pages, scanning through the lessons outlined in the table of contents. 

“It’s kinda a lot,” she said. “Is there, like, a study guide for this?”

“Yes,” Matt replied. “It’s called the Bible.”

Penny pondered if it was more ableist to smack a blind guy or to refuse to smack a guy because he was blind. Her musings were interrupted by the arrival of their waitress — a rather buxom lady with big blonde curls. 

“Hi there, how are you doing today?” she asked Penny, hurriedly dropping a menu on the table in front of her, before turning 100% of her attention to Mr. Murdock. “It’s good to see you, Matt. Would you like me to read the menu to you again?”

Penny kinda wanted to tell her that batting your lashes at someone who couldn’t see probably wasn’t very effective, but she decided to keep her mouth shut and see how this played out. 

Mr. Murdock smiled all smarmy-like. “No thank you, Trixie, that won’t be necessary. I already know what I want.”

Trixie pouted, but maintained enough professionalism to ask for their drink orders. Mr. Murdock got a coffee — black, which was both boring and unsurprising — and Penny asked for half orange juice, half Sprite. Mr. Murdock crinkled up his nose in disgust like she’d just ordered aged dog pee or something. 

When they finished, the waitress gave Penny a once over, like she was sizing her up. “Aren’t you a precious, young little thing, honey? Is she your niece?”

“No, the niece of a friend, actually,” he corrected. “I’m acting as her Confirmation sponsor.”

“Oh, Matt,” Trixie cooed, holding a hand over her heart. “How sweet!” 

Penny was gonna puke. 

Mr. Murdock just smiled again. “Thanks, Trixie. Could we have a few minutes to look over the menu, please? Penny’s never been here before.” 

“Yes, yes, of course!” she replied with great enthusiasm, obviously bolstered by having confirmed that he was not here on some kind of date. Or some kind of pedophile. “Let me know if you need any help!”

As soon as she was out of earshot, Penny rounded on Mr. Murdock. “If you tell me the two of you dated, my opinion of you will be irrevocably damaged.” 

“We didn’t date,” he assured her. “She’s just a…friend.”

Oh. 

Gross. 

And with some slightly horrifying implications if Penny took the previous conversation into account. 

“I wasn’t aware that you and May were ‘friends’,” she said tightly. 

“Not like that, Penelope.” 

“Well, that’s great,” Penny said with a heavy dose of false enthusiasm. “I would still prefer not to be the Sad Orphan Annie card you play to get girls.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Matt shot her a crooked smirk. “I’m my own Sad Orphan Annie card.”

…

They talked about Catholic Stuff until their food arrived, then turned their attention to more important things. Mr. Murdock blotted the extra grease off his bacon and refused to eat one of his three over-easy eggs because it was “suspect.” Penny ate her chocolate chip pancakes with both blueberry and butter pecan syrup, which Mr. Murdock seemed to consider an affront against humanity. All in all, it was not exactly Penny’s idea of a pleasant meal, but not half as bad as it could have been. 

“Your aunt will be back soon,” Mr. Murdock informed her after Trixie dropped off the check. Penny read it to him and did not mention the phone number inscribed upon it surrounded by little hearts. 

Like, seriously? Did this woman not know her “friend” was freaking blind?

Penny offered to pay (because May had told her to), but he waved her off. She wasn’t sure if arguing with him about it would be more or less polite, so she decided to let it go. Next time, she’d just lie about the total and sneak the (hopefully different) waitress some cash. 

“Before we meet next Sunday,” he said after he counted out a series of bills with oddly folded edges, “I’d like you to read over the first two sections. What were they again? History and Structure of the Catholic Church and something about the Trinity.” 

Penny involuntarily made a face that she was highly grateful he couldn’t see. “Sure thing, Mr. Murdock,” she chirped. 

“Please stop calling me that outside of work,” Not Mr. Murdock practically begged. “It makes me feel ancient.”

“Okay, Mr. Matt,” Penny replied. “How old are you anyway? Is it rude to ask that, or does that rule only apply to women?” 

He sighed. “I’m thirty.”

Penny winced. “Oof. Yeah, I definitely can’t drop the ‘Mr.’ then.”

Mr. Dramatic turned his bespectacled eyes heavenward as though praying for patience.

One day, right after the bell signaled the end of chemistry class, Gwen had grabbed Penny’s hand (!!!) and asked if she’d like to join her and her friends for lunch again. 

Uh, hell yeah she would. 

It became somewhat of a regular thing. Almost every other day, when Penny and Gwen’s stars — aka lunch blocks — aligned, they would eat together. Gwen’s purported boyfriend was also there, which put a damper on things, but Harry was actually kinda alright when you put aside the whole Romantic Rival thing. 

He and Gwen also appeared to be in the least relationship-y relationship that Penny had ever seen. 

Gwen was seemingly staunchly anti-PDA. If Harry tried to hold her hand? She slid it away. If he slipped an arm around her? She shrugged it off. If he tried to kiss her? She flat out scolded him. 

It was kinda weird honestly. Most of the other couples at school had to be forcefully separated from one another, glommed onto each other like parasites. If she didn’t talk about Harry so much, Penny would almost think Gwen…uninterested. 

Penny was (yet again) contemplating these observations while studying at Gwen’s place on a Friday afternoon. It wasn’t like Penny was intentionally avoiding inviting Gwen over to her own apartment, but May always freaked out whenever they had guests and went on a crazed cleaning frenzy, as though the place had to look magazine quality before anyone unfamiliar stepped through the door. Mary Jane and Aunt Anna didn’t really count anymore — they had moved past visitor status to honorary family members — but Gwen would almost certainly inspire that reaction. 

And based on how neat and orderly Gwen kept her own space, maybe that reaction wouldn’t have been totally unwarranted. 

Okay, so Penny might have been avoiding her apartment just a little , but mostly that was because her room was embarrassingly, dauntingly cluttered and she was attempting to project an aura of togetherness in front of her crush. At least, as much as she could reasonably manage to being, you know, her . 

After they had finished up, Gwen invited Penny to stay for dinner. She said her dad had a car and would be more than happy to drive Penny home afterwards so she wouldn’t have to travel around the city in the dark. The offer was thoughtful, but it still made Penny squirm. It wasn’t safe for a young girl to walk alone at night in general, but she knew Gwen was well aware of why doing so might bother Penny in particular. 

( Everyone knew exactly what happened the last time Penny went out after dark.)

Penny still said yes, of course. Like she was going to turn down an invitation to spend more time with Gwen. As if. 

The two cooked dinner together. Gwen was a surprisingly adept chef, and though she didn’t have the same kind of passion and finesse that Ben had possessed, it was clear that she had been the family’s primary cook since her mother had passed. She moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, throwing together a pot of spaghetti and meatballs like she’d done it a thousand times before. 

Truth be told, Penny was mostly there for moral support. 

Right as Gwen was finishing up tossing a salad, the front door opened. 

“Hi, Dad!” she called with a smile. 

“Hey, Gwennie,” he called back as his footsteps approached. “How was your day, honey?”

Honey. 

Honey. 

(Penny, honey. 

You need to come with me.)

Blood on cracked linoleum. Blood on her hands.  

(No.)

“Penny?”

Blood, blood, blood. Everywhere, everything. Dripping, pouring, puddling. 

(No, no, no.)

“Penny, what’s wrong?” 

(Penny, honey.)

A white sheet, stained at the center with blood. 

(You need to come with me.)

Bright red blood. 

“Miss Parker.”

(Miss Parker, please.)

A familiar pair of loafers.

(Oh, God.)

“What’s wrong with her?”

Bright red blood. 

“…flashback...”

Staining a sheet. 

(Penny, honey.)

“Penelope, look at me.”

(Come with me.)

Staining her hands.

…

“Is she alright?” a high, panicked voice asked. 

“She’ll be fine,” a deeper one reassured. “She just needs a moment.” 

The first thing Penny registered clearly was that she was sitting on the floor, back against the wall. Somehow, she always seemed to wind up like this, tucked into a little ball on the ground. Gwen was kneeling by her side, hands hovering anxiously, while her father stood a few feet back. 

Her disturbingly familiar father. 

“I didn’t realize…it’s you. You were there .”

“Oh, Penny,” Gwen said, looking absolutely wretched. “I’m so sorry. I thought you knew.” 

Penny froze as she felt herself go cold. “Wait, you knew?” 

“Well, I - yes, I mean that - that’s why I came by your apartment last month,” Gwen stuttered out. “Dad recognized the name you gave him. I’d mentioned you before. He told me when he got home after - after that night.” 

Normally, Penny would have been elated at the implication that Gwen had talked to her father about her. Right now, she was too exhausted to feel much of anything. Other than a touch of mortification. That was definitely there. 

While Penny was still processing this revelation, Mr. Stacy filled a glass of water and passed it to Gwen who passed it to Penny. He seemed to be keeping his distance, and Penny couldn’t decide if she appreciated the gesture or if it just made things worse. 

He thinks you’re weak, a voice inside her head hissed. Fragile, delicate. 

Powerless. 

“Can I get you anything else?” Gwen asked, snapping Penny out of her spiraling thoughts. 

“In my backpack,” she said, gesturing weakly. “I have, um, medicine. In the front pocket. Please.”

“Yeah, sure! Absolutely,” Gwen replied with false brightness, scurrying off to grab her bag. 

Penny keep her eyes on the glass of water in her hand, unable to force herself to meet Mr. Stacy’s gaze. Gwen was back in record time, holding out a bottle of Xanax with a shaky smile. Penny couldn’t really look at her either. 

After she’d swallowed down the medication, the room fell briefly into silent inaction. The sort of silence that was so loaded it weighed down the very air in the room. Finally, Gwen’s dad said,

“Penny, would you like to go home?”

“I - I don’t want to interrupt your dinner. I can just take the bus or call a cab or - ”

“No!” Gwen exclaimed. “No, Penny, of course not. We’ll take you home. If - if you want, I can maybe drive you. I just got my license not too long ago.”

She looked at her father uncertainly and, while he didn’t look thrilled with the idea of his daughter driving in rush hour traffic, he didn’t contradict her offer. 

But Penny didn’t know if she could make it through a car ride full of worried glances, no matter how well meaning. 

“It’s fine,” she said. “I mean, I don’t mind if your dad takes me. You can just - just stay here. Keep dinner warm.”

For the briefest of seconds, Gwen’s face fell, recognizing that for the dismissal that it was. But then she forced another tight smile and nodded. “Yes, sure. Of course.” 

Mr. Stacy glanced between Penny and the bottle of pills in her hand. “Alright, let’s get you home before you get too tired, Penny.”

If she flinched, just a bit, at the sound of her name coming out of his mouth, no one commented. 

“Alright, I’m ready to hear about our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ,” Penny announced as soon as she and Mr. Matt had settled into their booth the following Sunday. 

Matt’s jaw ticked. He’d been in a weird mood all morning, ever since he had met her and May at the church doors. 

“I’m glad you’re taking this so seriously, Penny,” he said. “It’s not like I personally don’t have better ways to spend my Sunday afternoon.” 

Something in Penny’s chest went a bit tight at that. She found herself staring down at the laminate tabletop. 

“I didn’t ask you to do this,” she muttered.  

Matt pressed his lips together and inhaled deeply through his nose. He paused for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing as though he was swallowing something down. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that. It was out of line.”

“It’s fine,” Penny replied, tracing one of the lines on the table with her fingertip. “I provoked you. I keep doing that lately. My therapist says I’m ‘testing people’s tolerance’, whatever that means.”

“Yes, well, you’re fourteen, and I’m allegedly a full grown adult. It’s on me to not rise to the bait.” 

Penny just shrugged. Matt reached out to intercept her hand in its path. He didn’t hold it or anything, just lightly placed his own directly on top of hers, stopping its motion. She didn’t know how he did something like that with such precision but, then again, she’d never been blind. 

“I mean it, Penny,” he told her firmly. “I shouldn’t take my frustrations out on you. I’m sorry.”

Penny meant to repeat once again that it was fine, but instead she blurted, “I had another freak out. A couple of days ago. At my friend Gwen’s house.” 

Matt slowly withdrew his hand, and though Penny knew it wasn’t possible, she could almost feel his gaze. Like he was studying her, searching for something.  

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said carefully. 

“It was really embarrassing,” Penny continued, because apparently she’d lost control of her own mouth. “Her dad came home from work. I knew he was a cop, but I didn’t know… well, he was there that night. And when I saw him, it’s like I was there again, you know? When I came back to myself, Gwen was looking at me like I was a kitten she’d just watched get run over or something.”

“That’s because she cares about you, Penny,” Matt replied with a gentleness that irked. “It was probably a difficult thing to watch.”

“I get that,” Penny snapped. “It’s just…I don’t want it. I don’t want her concern or her pity. So I left, though I could tell it really hurt her. Then I had to endure the most awkward car ride of my life with her father, who all but insisted that I tell May about the incident.”

“And did you?” Matt asked. “Tell her?”

No. May had enough to worry about as it was. She didn’t need to add Penny’s inability to be a functional human being to the ever-growing pile.”

“Nevermind,” Penny said. “Forget I said anything. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” 

Matt blind-stared at her again for a moment. She didn’t like the way it made her feel. Like a bacterium under a microscope. “Then what do you want to talk about?” 

Penny only required a moment of contemplation. 

“I want to talk about Daredevil,” she said decisively. 

Matt sighed and leaned back against his seat. “What about Daredevil?”

“What’s he like? Is he all dark and broody? Because he seems like he’d be dark and broody. Or maybe he’s more the strong, silent type-”

“He’s just a regular guy,” Matt cut in. 

“But he’s not a regular guy,” Penny protested. “He’s enhanced at the very least. Or mutated.”

“Not necessarily,” he argued. “The things he does aren’t superhuman. Any trained athlete could do them.”

“Yeah, sure. But it’s not what he does, it’s how he does it. He has some sort of ESP. Or maybe just heightened senses.” 

Matt gave her his equivalent of a considering look. “What makes you think so?” 

“Have you ever seen a video of him fighting? Wait, sorry, scratch that. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot, Penny.”

“Yeah, yeah, anyway,” she brushed off. “It’s the way he responds to the things around him. He blocks hits he has no way to know are coming. He dodges things thrown at his back without ever turning around. I mean, hell, it’s practically his damn signature to fight in total darkness.” 

“Language, Penny.”

“The point is,” she said, “no amount of athleticism or training can give you eyes in the back of your head or allow you to see in the dark.” 

“Perhaps,” Matt allowed. “Or maybe he just has some sort of fancy tech, like Iron Man.” 

“No, there’s no way,” Penny insisted, growing increasingly frustrated. Was this a lawyer thing? Did he truly think her points invalid, or did he just feel an incessant need to argue? “The rich guys always want glory, to be one of the Big Guns. He’s just out there fighting for his neighborhood.”

Penny paused, her voice dropping before she continued. “I wish we had someone like him out in Queens. If we did, then maybe…” 

She let herself trail off. There was no point contemplating all the “what if’s.” 

Matt did that thing again where he pressed his lips together, took a deep breath, and swallowed heavily. Penny was starting to recognize it as his “suppressing strong negative emotions” routine. 

“Look, Penny, I - I’m going to give you my number, alright?” he said with an uncharacteristic amount of hesitance. “You can call it if you ever get in trouble. But I, uh, sometimes I’m hard to reach. So if you ever can’t get ahold of me — like late at night, for example — you can call Foggy and he’ll be able to put you in touch with me.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Penny replied, experiencing mild whiplash from how quickly his tone had sobered. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Promise you’ll call,” Matt insisted. “If there’s an emergency.”

“Like a legal emergency or…”

“Just any emergency.” 

Penny wasn’t trying to be ablest, but she was pretty sure there were a whole lot of situations in which a blind guy wouldn’t be much help, including the one that had gotten her and Aunt May in this whole mess in the first place. Still, she decided it was probably best to take the path of least resistance in this case. 

“Yeah, okay,” she said. “I promise.” 

It’s not like that would actually ever happen. 

Chapter Text

“So, I was thinking,” Ned began, which was always a dangerous start to any conversation. “The new season of Dog Cops drops this weekend. Who’s down to binge it? I bet I can get my mom to make some of her 7-layer dip.”

Penny, Ned, Michelle, and Mary Jane were all at lunch together. It was a B day, so Penny didn’t have the same lunch block as Gwen and, while she always loved the chance to see her other friends, she couldn’t help but mope just a smidge. 

Things had been awkward for a brief period after Penny’s little episode on the Stacy’s kitchen floor, though not on Gwen’s part. She had been as kind and warm and empathetic as ever. It was Penny who had been avoidant and even borderline standoffish for a week or so. She just hated it, knowing that Gwen had seen her like that. Knowing that her father had seen her in even worse a state, and that he’d told Gwen about it. 

Captain Stacy had borne witness to the single most powerless moment of Penny’s life. She couldn’t stop thinking about that, wondering what he must think of her. 

Poor little orphan girl, the voice in her head crooned. Always the victim of tragedies she’s too weak to stop. 

“What day were you thinking?” MJ asked as she popped one of Michelle’s fries into her mouth. Michelle allowed this with a begrudging sort of patience that she extended to literally no one else. “Saturday or Sunday?”

Penny shook off her intrusive thoughts and forced herself to focus back on the conversation. 

“My Sunday afternoons are booked for the foreseeable future,” she said. “That’s when I have to meet with my Confirmation sponsor.”

Ned crunched loudly on a bite of baby carrot. “You mean that blind lawyer guy?” he asked. 

“That’s the one.”

“You know,” Michelle said, “your aunt’s kinda weirdly chill about letting you hang out alone with, like, a grown ass man.”

Penny shrugged. “I guess that’s a risk she’s willing to take in the name of Catholicism.”

Michelle raised an eyebrow. “Sure, ‘cause historically, that’s always worked out real well.”

“Yeah,” Penny sighed, picking at the bag of chips on the table in front of her. “She also, you know, wants me to have an adult male figure in my life or whatever. And I think she thinks we can bond over the whole orphan thing.”

“And the tragically losing your father figure to gun violence thing,” Ned chimed in. 

“Yes, Ned, thank you. That, too.” 

“So if Sunday’s no good, what about Saturday?” Mary Jane asked. 

“Well, actually,” Penny said, “I’m kind of busy Saturday night, too. I got invited to a party at Harry’s house.”

Mary Jane laughed, then faltered when she took in Penny’s unwavering expression. 

“Wait, seriously?” she demanded. 

“Uh, yeah,” Penny replied. “He invited me the other day at lunch. Are you upset or something?”

“No, it’s just - I’ve heard those parties can get kind of wild, is all. It doesn’t really seem like your kinda scene.” 

Penny narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mary Jane shrugged. “I just can’t really picture you having much fun.”

“Because I’m not cool enough or popular enough or something?”

“What? No!” MJ exclaimed, visibly taken aback. “Jesus, Penny, that’s not even close to what I said.” 

“Maybe not,” Penny fired back, “but it’s what you insinuated.”

“Uh, actually, no. It’s not.”

“Then what were you trying to say?” 

“Exactly what I said!” Mary Jane snapped, clearly growing frustrated. “I don’t think you'll have fun. You’re the kind of girl who spends her Friday nights reading fantasy novels and watching Sci-Fi shows, not playing beer pong and snorting Xanax or whatever.” 

“I can be whatever kind of girl I want!” 

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. But do you want this? Or do you just want to seem cool and fun to impress Gwen and all your new little friends?” 

Penny’s jaw dropped. She thought back to the time before Homecoming when MJ had accused her of being jealous of her growing relationship with Michelle. 

What a hypocrite . 

“Oh, who’s jealous now?” she sneered. 

“I’m not jealous, Penny,” Mary Jane protested. “Who am I to get in the way of Sapphic love? But I am concerned.” 

Penny snatched up her trash and shoved everything back in her lunchbox. She stood up, staring down at MJ coldly. 

“Well you can take your ‘concern’ and shove it,” she said. Then she turned on her heel and marched straight out of the cafeteria. 

Penny could be cool. Penny could be fun. And she would prove it by having the time of her freaking life that Saturday night.

“So, about Saturday night,” Gwen said, taking a rare momentary break from furiously typing away on her laptop. “You don’t need to feel obligated to come if it’s not your kinda thing.”

“Why wouldn’t it be my thing?” Penny asked. “It sounds fun. Who doesn’t like fun?” 

Gwen and Penny were back at the former’s house, this time to wrap up a report on their recent acid-base titration lab. It hardly surprised Penny that the topic of Harry’s party had come up, though admittedly she hadn’t expected Gwen to try to talk her out of it, too. Maybe Penny just exuded unprecedented levels of ‘uncool’. 

“I mean, it can be fun,” Gwen said. “But honestly, it can also be a bit much sometimes. Harry doesn’t do anything by halves, especially not a party.” 

Penny forced herself to pause and think before she replied — she didn’t want to start another fight like she admittedly had with MJ — but something must’ve managed to sneak into her expression because Gwen hastily continued. 

“I’m not trying to dissuade you from coming or anything — I’d love to have you there — I just want to make sure you don’t feel like you can’t turn him down. There’s just something about Harry. He gets so…so effusively excited about everything. It’s hard to say ‘no’ to him.”

“No, I want to, really. It’s just…”

“What?”

“Well, I haven’t really been to one before. Like a ‘teen party’ or whatever. I don't even know what to wear.” 

Penny cringed at herself. She sounded like that meme of Steve Buscemi with the skateboard. 

How do you do, fellow kids? I’m Penny, and I’m incredibly lame and out of touch. 

“Just something cute but casual,” Gwen told her. “You should do a skirt. Your legs looked so good in your dress at Homecoming.” 

Penny’s brain experienced a 404 error. Coherent thoughts not found. 

“You, uh, you saw me at Homecoming?” 

“Yeah, you were taking pictures with your friends. You looked really cute,” Gwen said casually, as though she wasn’t currently giving Penny a coronary. “I’m sorry about Liz, though. That was a really cruel thing to do.” 

Penny did not currently give a rat’s ass about Liz Allen. Gwen thought she had nice legs . This was a Top 10 moment in her life. Top 5, even. 

“I don’t really have any,” she admitted. “Skirts, that is. I mean, I have some for like church and stuff, but those are all ‘modest’ and ‘tasteful’ as defined by my middle-aged aunt. Not really the sort of thing that screams ‘party’.” 

“Oh, that’s no problem,” Gwen said breezily. “You can borrow one of mine. We’re close to the same size, especially if you add a belt. Your waist looks a bit smaller than mine.”

Gwen walked over to her closet and started sorting through her immaculately organized clothes. Penny felt a wave of shame, thinking about her own disaster area of a closet back home.

“Here,” Gwen said, tossing something onto the bed. “Try this.” 

It was a denim micro mini skirt with rhinestones scattered all along the hem and pockets. Attention-catching and a little bit risqué, it didn’t really seem like Gwen’s style, but Penny supposed she’d never seen her in party-wear. Maybe Gwen just liked to keep things classy and buttoned-up at school. 

Penny gingerly picked it up off the bed, hesitating for a moment before glancing back at Gwen over her shoulder. 

“Oh, sorry, do you want me to, like, cover my eyes or something?” Gwen asked. “I did ballet for so long, I got used to stripping down in front of dozens of other girls backstage. Sometimes I forget that kinda stuff bothers other people.”

Penny did her best not to visibly gulp. “Oh, uh, no. It’s okay.” 

She shimmied out of her jeans, leaving her in just a sweater and her underwear. And while Gwen didn’t outright look , she also didn’t shy away. Penny knew she was probably imagining the charge in the air — or that it was one-sided at the very least — but that didn’t make her feel it any less. 

Penny stepped into the skirt then eased it up over her hips. She lifted up the hem of her shirt to attend to the zipper and the button, and when she looked back up, Gwen was just inches away. 

“Hmm,” she said, examining the skirt — examining Penny — with a critical eye. “I was wrong about the need for a belt. You’ve got more hips than I realized.”

Gwen reached down and slipped a finger into the waistband, tugging just a bit as though checking for any slack. Penny might’ve stopped breathing. 

“Is that a bad thing?” she asked weakly. 

Gwen slowly lifted her eyes to meet hers. “No, not at all. Most girls don’t get to have good legs and a nice ass.” 

Then she stepped back, casual as you please, and took her hand off Penny’s hip. “I guess we better get back to that report,” she said with an angelic smile.

The night of the party found Penny standing in front of her disaster area of a closet, legitimately debating calling the whole thing off. She could come up with a good excuse for Gwen. Like food poisoning. Except then her crush might wind up picturing her puking her guts out or something — which was not very conducive to fostering attraction — so Penny squared her shoulders and dove in. 

She wound up pairing Gwen’s skirt with a black tank top, the type she’d normally layer under other things. She considered her silver Homecoming heels, but worried that would come across as trying too hard, and settled for her Converse instead. After a moment of hesitation, she added the little gold hoops Mary Jane had gotten her two Christmases ago. 

“They say ‘the bigger the hoops, the bigger the hoe’,” MJ had said at the time, “which is why these are so tiny.” 

When she was finished, Penny stepped back and eyed herself in the mirror. She looked…okay. Her makeup wasn’t great. She didn’t particularly like to wear it — it felt funny on her skin and made her lashes feel all goopy — so she didn’t have much in the way of practice or even own much to begin with. 

She’d done some blush…then had immediately washed it off because she’d looked like a clown. After trying again — with a much lighter hand — it looked satisfactory. At the very least, she no longer looked like a Victorian child dying of consumption. Then Penny had added some mascara and a little bit of eyeliner she’d stolen from Aunt May, who was currently out working a night shift at the hospital. 

Overall, Penny looked kind of nice, she guessed. Mary Jane had done a much better job for Homecoming, but Penny didn’t particularly feel like bringing her in for a consult on this. She was still smarting from MJ’s comments at lunch a few days before, and the two hadn’t talked much since. So instead, Penny followed a previous piece of advice from her friend and left her glasses sitting on the bathroom counter. She couldn’t see for shit, but it wasn’t like they’d be reading at this party or anything. 

Right? That’s totally not how teen parties worked. 

…right?

Her phone chirped out a text notification. 

Gwen: We’ll be there soon, probably in less than five minutes! I’m excited to have you coming along! 

Penny had always liked the way Gwen texted. With full words and correct punctuation and everything. She ended approximately 95% of her sentences with exclamation marks, like an overenthusiastic old lady. It was charmingly sweet and sincere. 

Me: Heading down now!

Penny scrambled to find her purse, searching for what was essentially a brown and black blob with her blurry vision. After she found it, she stuffed her phone, keys, wallet, and the single tube of lip gloss she owned inside. Then she tossed on a jacket and skidded out the door to go wait on the sidewalk. 

She wasn’t waiting long, which was fortunate ‘cause it was cold as balls. Penny was contemplating whether the skirt had been a bad idea when Ryan Rappaport pulled up to the curb in his beat up Corolla. 

Gwen rolled down the back window and called out, “Hey, Penn! You look so cute!” 

Penny decided the skirt had been the right move. 

“Come on,” Gwen said with a smile. “You’re back here with me.”

Penny slid into the back. It was a tight squeeze with her, Gwen, and Carlie Cooper all back there, but she didn’t exactly mind. Her bare thigh, pressed up against Gwen’s, broke out in goosebumps. 

“Hi there, Penny,” Lily Hollister called from the passenger seat. “I can’t believe we’re going to baby’s first high school party!” 

“Aw, leave her alone, Lil,” Ryan chided as he pulled back out onto the street. “Everyone’s gotta have their first time at some point.” He smiled at Penny in the rearview mirror. “We’ll make sure yours is painless.”

Harry’s place was kind of on the edge of town, out where people had actual houses with, like, fences and yards and stuff. Penny could remember the day that Harry had invited her to the party, when she’d asked how he planned to hide 100+ teenagers from his parents. 

“My dad normally stays in the Manhattan apartment,” he had said with a shrug. 

Penny had marveled at the idea of having two homes in the same city. 

Rich people. 

As they rode along, everyone kept up a constant chatter — other than Carlie, who Penny was pretty sure she’d heard say approximately five words ever. Lily provided a running commentary on all the eligible bachelors in the junior class, with both Ryan and Gwen jumping in occasionally to offer their own opinions. Lily had narrowed her list down to three potential targets for the night by the time they pulled up to Harry’s house.

And by house, Penny meant massive fucking mansion. 

Judging by the windows, the place was a solid three stories tall. It looked old, with a mattering of heavy columns, a couple of fancy-smancy turrets, and a big, imposing wrought iron gate which currently stood wide open. As Penny got out of the car, she tried not to stare, mouth agape, like the poor little life-long renter that she was. 

Ryan popped the truck and pulled out some plastic grocery bags, which appeared to be filled with gallon jugs of juice. Then he led the way up the fancy cobblestone path to the door. They didn’t bother to ring or knock or anything, just went straight inside where they were greeted by the sight of shiny marble floors, a grand staircase, and about a million teenagers at various stages of inebriation. 

As soon as they were through the door, Carlie turned to the group. “I’m gonna go find Vin,” she informed them before immediately flouncing off. 

“Use protection!” Lily called after her. 

Carlie shot her a dirty look over her shoulder, and Penny felt her own cheeks flush. Gwen just shook her head. 

Ryan expertly led them through the crowd and straight to the kitchen. Harry was there, playing host like he was born to it, smiling and laughing with a group of people Penny was pretty sure she’d never seen in her life. 

“Dude,” he said when he spotted Ryan. “I thought you said you’d be here to help set up.”

Ryan fixed him with a wide, bright smile. “That’s before I knew I had four pretty girls to chauffeur. Obviously, that took priority.”

Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, man. Smooth as ever. Now go make the damn punch.” 

He clapped Ryan on the back as he passed by, presumably to go mix the drinks, then Harry turned to Gwen. 

“I know you don’t normally like to drink the punch, and you’re not a big fan of beer, so I got you this,” he told her, producing a glass bottle filled with a vivid pink liquid claiming to be a strawberry daiquiri. 

Gwen smiled, taking the proffered drink. “Thanks, Har.” 

“Anything for my girl,” Harry said, wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. 

Gwen stiffened and visibly sniffed. “You said you weren’t going to drink,” she accused. 

“I’m not! Not really,” Harry insisted, pulling back. “Gwen, it’s a party. Obviously, I’m gonna have a drink or two, but I don’t plan on getting drunk .”

“Yeah,” Gwen muttered, voice laced with bitterness. “You never do.”

“Ah, Gwenny, come on,” Lily cajoled. “Lighten up.” 

Gwen sighed. “Whatever. Do you want this, Lil?” She held out her untouched drink. 

“What?” Harry asked, puppy-eyed. “You don’t like it? I picked it up just for you.”

“Well, someone’s gotta stay sober,” Gwen snapped. 

“Ryan is!” Harry protested as the man in question walked back over. “He’s DD!”

Gwen shot a dubious glance towards the beer in Ryan’s hand. 

“I’m just having the one!” he said. 

Gwen closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She looked like she was resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. 

“Gwen, I - I won’t have any more,” Penny offered. “If you need someone else to stay sober.” 

“Oh, Penny,” Gwen said, softening as she looked her way. “No, it’s fine. You can’t even drive.”

“But I could not drink in, like, solidarity.” 

Gwen smiled, small but genuine. “Thanks, Penn. You’re really sweet. But it’s fine. This is your first party. I want you to have fun.”

“Yeah, Penn,” Ryan said, slinging an arm over her shoulders and holding out a red plastic cup. “Here you go, your inaugural glass of jungle juice.” 

Hesitantly, Penny took a small sip. It wasn’t great…but it wasn’t all that bad either. She could understand why Ryan was the official punch brewer. 

He shot her another one of his shockingly white smiles and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Now let’s get this party started!”

…

It turned out, parties were kind of…boring. Penny felt like maybe she was missing something key, because most of the other people around her seemed to be having a good time. 

Other than Gwen, that was, who was sitting next to Penny on one of the many couches, arms crossed and jaw clenched.  

Harry had just come back from the kitchen, a red plastic cup in hand. 

“I thought you were just going to have a drink or two?” Gwen said tightly. 

“Yeah,” Harry replied, curt. “And this is my second.”

“And third and fourth. You know how strong Ryan makes that punch.”

“God, Gwen,” Harry groaned. “Would it kill you to lay off me for, like, five seconds?”

Gwen’s nostrils flared. Her lips pursed. “Let’s talk upstairs,” she practically ordered. 

Harry sighed heavily, but he did as he was asked, not bothering to wait for his girlfriend before making his way towards the staircase across the room. Gwen stared after him as she got to her feet. 

“I’ll be right back, Penny, okay?” she told her, leaning over to look her dead in the eye. “Don’t drink too much, alright?”

“Yeah, sure,” Penny agreed, trying not to sound as sullen as she felt. She always hated moments like this, when Gwen made it clear that she saw her more like a little sister or some kid she was babysitting than anything else. 

Gwen flashed her a smile. It didn’t reach her eyes. “Be right back,” she repeated. 

Penny waited until Gwen had disappeared upstairs, then she turned to Lily. “Where are Gwen and Harry going?” she asked.  

“Up to his room,” Lily replied. 

Oh.

Penny’s shock must’ve shone clearly on her face because Lily let out something between a laugh and a scoff. 

“No, no, not like that,” she assured her. “More like so nobody can hear them yelling at each other.”

“Oh,” Penny said uncertainly. “That seems…”

“Super functional and healthy?” Lily quipped. “Yeah, we all agree.”

Ryan just shrugged. “It’s whatever. If they get off on all the fighting, who gives a shit?”

Lily rolled her eyes. “No one’s ‘getting off’ on anything. You told me Harry made that abundantly clear.”

“Shh!” Ryan hissed, fixing Lily with a sharp glare. “You know I wasn’t supposed to tell you about that!” 

“Wait, you mean…” Penny trailed off, looking between the two of them. 

“They aren’t fucking,” Ryan told her bluntly

“They aren’t doing anything,” Lily corrected gleefully. “Harry says they barely even kiss.”

“Which, again, you aren’t supposed to know,” Ryan repeated. “So I’d really appreciate it if you could keep it down.”

“I, uh - I’m gonna go find the restroom. Be right back,” Penny said, unintentionally parroting Gwen.

She didn’t really have to pee all that much, but she hadn’t much liked the direction that conversation had been going. Even though a part of her was admittedly crowing at the knowledge that Gwen was not that into Harry — physically at least — the whole thing felt too much like an invasion of their privacy. What they did (or seemingly didn’t) do together should really stay between the two of them.

After standing in a stupidly long line with a handful of other girls who were effusively complimentary of her skirt then doing her business in a bathroom with some highly suspicious powder on the countertop, Penny headed back through the growing crowd to the place where Gwen had left her. She had taken her cup with her — Penny might not have had much experience but even she knew the first rule of party safety was to never let your drink out of your sight — so she nearly spilled its remaining contents all over herself when she ran headlong into someone else. 

Thinking that maybe forgoing vision correction hadn’t been one of her brightest ideas, Penny had an apology poised on the tip of her tongue when she looked up and recognized the tall, blonde blob that she’d collided with. She immediately scowled. 

Flash smirked and gestured towards her cup. “What’s in there? Sprite and orange juice?” 

“No, punch,” Penny corrected tightly. “Obviously.”

“Wow, look at that,” he marveled. “Penelope Parker having her first big girl drink. Should we document the occasion?” 

“It's not my first drink,” she replied, maybe a touch too defensively. “I’ve drank plenty of times before.”

Which was totally true. If you counted, like, communion wine. 

Flash just fixed her with another one of those insufferably knowing smirks. “Yeah, Parker, sure you have.”

Penny ground her teeth together. “What do you want, Flash?”

“Just to chat. That’s what you do at parties. Stand around drinking, talking. Though I know you don’t exactly have much experience-”

“Okay, so go chat with one of your friends, then,” Penny snapped. “I’m here to have fun.”

“Aw, Parker,” Flash whined, pressing a hand over his heart. “Are you saying you don’t think I’m fun to talk to? You know, that really hurts.”

“Gee, I wonder why I wouldn’t like talking to you. It’s not like we’ve ever had anything other than perfectly pleasant and cordial interactions.”

“Wow, tipsy Penny’s a little feisty, huh? Where’s your little red-headed girlfriend? She’d be so proud.”

Unfortunately, the unexpected reference to Mary Jane tripped Penny up a bit. “She - she’s not here,” she stuttered out. 

Flash latched onto that like a dog with a bone, just like Penny had feared he would. “Oh, trouble in paradise, huh? I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“We’re fine, ” Penny insisted. “Parties just - just aren’t her thing.”

“Yeah, sure. Not like they’re yours, right?”

Penny bit her tongue and just glared up at him in stormy silence. She should know better by now. Nothing good ever came out of engaging with Flash. Every little thing she said just egged him, encouraged him to keep coming back for more. 

“Bye, Flash,” she said, spinning on her heel to march away. 

Flash’s hand shot out and caught her shoulder. “Parker, wait -”

Penny shrugged him off. “I’m leaving. My friends are waiting for me.” 

It didn’t take long for Penny to realize that the opposite was true. Gwen wasn’t back yet, and the rest of her friends had seemingly dispersed. Penny couldn’t think of anything else to do other than wander off in search of a familiar face. The first one she spotted was Lily’s — but her face was currently attached to some guy’s face so she decided to leave her be. Eventually, she came across Ryan in the kitchen, mixing up a fresh batch of punch. 

“Where’s Gwen?” Penny asked. 

“Oh, she left,” he answered flippantly. 

Penny froze. “What?” 

“Yeah, Marla Miller was totally sloshed, so she offered to drive her and her car home.”

“With - without me?” Penny asked, struggling to keep the hurt of her voice. 

He simply shrugged. “She thought you’d already left.” 

“Why?”  

Ryan paused in his beverage ministrations to fix her with a bright white smile. “Because I told her you had.”

That threw Penny for another loop, and for a moment, she wasn’t even remotely sure how to respond. 

“Why would you do that?” she questioned, not entirely certain if she was angry or just confused. 

“Come on, do you really wanna go?” Ryan asked. “Things are just getting started. Live a little. Have some fun.”

He ladled out two cups of punch and passed one over to Penny. 

“Cheers,” he said, tilting his drink her way. 

Penny looked between him and her cup, contemplating the direction that this night had taken. She wasn’t entirely sure how she planned to get home now, nor did she have any idea what the rest of the night would entail. But she did know one thing — she wasn’t lame or sheltered or incapable of having fun like MJ, Flash, and even Gwen seemed to think. 

“Cheers,” Penny echoed. Then she threw back her drink.

Chapter Text

Wow, MJ had been so, so wrong. This was totally Penny’s scene. Parties were great. The absolute bestest. Penny informed Lily of this finding with great gravitas. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Lily responded. “Bless your heart. You are absolutely shitfaced.”

Was that an insult? It kinda sounded like an insult. Was shitfaced another word for ugly or something? Penny couldn’t remember. Was Lily saying that she had a shitty face?

“No, honey,” Lily reassured her. “You’re as adorable as ever.” 

Penny pouted. She wasn’t adorable. Babies were adorable. She was - was… tantalizing.  

“Jesus, Ryan,” Harry said. “How many drinks did you give her?”

“Aw, come on, man,” Ryan replied, laughing. “She’s fine! Look, she’s having fun.”

And Penny totally was. So, so much fun. She swayed her hips along to the bass pounding through the speakers, smiling dopily. From across the room, she caught Flash staring at her and stuck out her tongue. His expression shifted, something between totally bewildered and… some other emotion Penny didn’t feel like parsing out at the moment. After all, she was busy having fun. Woo!!

“Okay, Penny,” Harry said, gently laying a hand on her upper arm. “Maybe let’s quiet down just a bit.” 

“But Harry!” she protested. “It’s a party! ”

Penny decided on the perfect way to emphasize her point. People danced on tables at parties right? They totally did in the movies. Penny started clambering up onto one of the nearby chairs. She had only managed to get one foot up on the tabletop when a pair of strong hands wrapped around her waist. 

“Alright,” Harry said after he’d deposited her back down on the ground. “I think maybe it’s time to take a break, sober up a little. You wanna go lay down in my room for a bit, Penny?” 

“Aw, why?” Penny whined. 

“Because you’re tired, Penny,” Harry told her. 

She cocked her head. “Am I?”

“Yeah, don’t you remember?”

“Oh. Okay.” 

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded from the next room over. 

“Whoa, what was that?” Penny slurred, wobbling as she tried to turn in the direction of the noise. She could faintly hear frantic whispering and muffled laughter. 

“ Shit, ” Harry said emphatically. 

“Hey, man, I can take her,” Ryan offered. “You go deal with whatever that was.” 

Harry glanced between Penny and Ryan, looking hesitant. “You sure?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Ryan reassured him with a smile. 

Harry’s gaze settled on Penny. “Just go lay down for a little bit, okay? I’ll come check on you as soon as I can.”

She gave him a few clumsy pats on the shoulder. “Thanks, Har.” 

“Come on, Penny, let’s get you upstairs,” Ryan said, placing a hand between her shoulder blades to gently guide her along. 

The stairs proved to be a bit of a challenge — her vision had already been blurry before the alcohol, and now she could barely discern where one step ended and the next began — so by the time they got up to Harry’s room, Ryan’s arm was fully wrapped around her waist. After he closed the door behind them, he led Penny over to the bed and helped her sit up against the mountain of pillows there. 

Rich people. 

Ryan perched on the edge of the mattress next to her. “You doin’ okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Penny drawled. “Why?”

“Well, it’s just,” Ryan began, reaching out to gently lay a hand on her knee. “I know it must’ve hurt, how Gwen didn’t even bother to check on you before she left.” 

Penny wasn’t really sure how to respond. The truth was, it had kind of hurt. She believed that Gwen hadn’t meant to leave her, that she’d genuinely thought Penny had already left. Gwen was just too nice to abandon her on purpose. But that didn’t mean that the fact she hadn’t even tried to find Penny before going felt any less like a slap in the face. 

“I see the way you look at her, you know,” Ryan added suddenly. 

Penny felt her eyes go wide. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“It’s alright,” Ryan said, thumb now rubbing in a soothing circle. “I don’t mind that you’re into girls.”

“I, uh, I like both, actually.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Mmm, do you now? Tell me, Penny, have you ever kissed a guy?”

Penny felt her cheeks go red. “Yes,” she mumbled. 

“And did you like it?”

“I - I mean, I guess. It was fine. I think it just wasn’t a very good kiss.”

“Then how do you know?”

“Know what?”

Ryan gave her an indulgent smile, like Penny was being a bit dense. And maybe she was. Her brain still felt a little muddled, her thoughts slow. 

“That you like guys,” he said. 

“I - I just do,” she stuttered. “I’ve never kissed a girl, and I know I like them.”

“Maybe you should check,” he suggested. 

Penny furrowed her brow. “Check?”

“Kiss a guy, of course,” Ryan said, like it was obvious. Then he paused, thoughtful, before he continued. “You know, Penny, you’re very pretty. It’s a shame about Gwen.” 

“What about her?”

“That she’s straight. And even if she wasn’t, a girl like her…” he trailed off, fixing Penny with a pitying look. “Well, she comes from a traditional kind of family. It’s hard to imagine her doing any kind of experimenting.”

“Oh,” Penny said quietly. 

“But I’m not like that,” Ryan assured her. “I’ve always been very open-minded about these kinds of things. In fact, I think I can help you.”

“Help me?”

“Well, if Gwen ever does give you a chance, you need to make sure it’s good, right? Otherwise, you really don’t have any hope.” 

Penny glanced over at Ryan, struggling to make out his expression through her bleary eyes. “How would I do that? Make it good?” 

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I can show you.”

And then Ryan leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. 

In truth, Penny had only ever kissed one boy before, and she wasn’t entirely sure if it even counted. It had happened back in the fifth grade and had — unfortunately — been with Flash, who had asked her for a kiss on the playground, apparently on a dare. Of course, Penny hadn’t known that at the time, so she had said yes, mostly because she was curious but also because it felt kinda rude to say no. 

This kiss was completely different. The one with Flash had been quick — little more than a peck to tell the truth — and firmly close-mouthed. This one was long and, frankly, wet. Ryan’s tongue kept pressing against her lips and into her mouth. Penny got the feeling that she was supposed to like it, but truthfully, she felt a bit like a dog was lapping at her face. It was sloppy and uncontrolled, and Penny wondered if this was what French kissing normally felt like. If so, she didn’t really understand the hype. 

Ryan’s hands drifted downwards, moving from her cheeks to her shoulders to her waist. One wrapped around her back and the other kept going, landing on her thigh, fingertips brushing the hem of Gwen’s skirt. 

Then they started to slide beneath it. Penny froze, her breath stuttering in her chest. 

“What are you-”

“Relax, it’s okay.”

“I don’t - maybe we should-”

“Shh, you’ll like it.”  

“But I-”

“Quiet, Penny,” Ryan said, something hard slipping into his voice. “You don’t want anyone to hear us.” 

“Ryan, wait-”

His mouth was back on hers. He was leaning over her, his weight pressing her down into the mattress. Penny just…froze, lying there stiffly as Ryan grabbed one of her hands and intertwined his fingers with hers. His lips continued to move against her own and his other hand was still inching upwards, brushing against her inner thigh, creeping towards the edge of her underwear-

“Whoa, sorry, didn’t realize this room was - hey, what the fuck are you doing?” 

Then Ryan’s weight was suddenly gone, but Penny was still lying there, frozen. She found herself staring up at the ceiling, watching it blur in and out of focus as various sounds echoed around the room. Grunts and thuds and bangs, soon followed by rapidly approaching footsteps. 

“What the hell is - whoa, man, get off him!” 

“He’s fucking lost it!”

“And he’s a fucking rapist!” 

“Penny? Hey, Penny, can you hear me?” 

Someone was hovering over Penny. She blinked, feeling something wet drip down the side of her face as her vision cleared. Dark hair. Icy blue eyes. 

Harry? When did Harry get here?

“Penny? Are you okay?”

He reached for her uncertainly, hands hovering but never quite making contact as she sat up and took in the scene around her. 

There was Harry, standing next to her beside the bed. There was Ryan on the floor, clutching at what appeared to be a broken nose. And there was Flash — teeth bared, knuckles bloodied — staring down at Ryan with pure, unadulterated hatred. 

“Penny?” Harry repeated, looking increasingly panicked. “Penny, what happened?” 

“We were just messing around,” Ryan said, voice garbled and nasally. “Then Flash burst in and freaked the fuck out.”

Flash scoffed. “You normally pin girls down when you ‘mess around’, asshole?” 

Ryan sneered, showing off blood-stained teeth. “Depends on what kinda stuff they’re into.” 

Flash took a pointed step forward. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Stop!” Harry commanded. “Everybody just calm the fuck down. Penny, what happened?” 

“Come on, man,” Ryan said. “She’s clearly trashed.”

“Yeah, dipshit,” Flash growled. “That’s the fucking point.”

“She came onto me, man!” Ryan protested. “I was taking her up here to sleep it off for a bit, just like I said, but as soon as we got in here, she was all over me.”

“ Bullshit! ”

“Flash, just - just keep it down, okay?” Harry said, eyes darting towards the partially open bedroom door. “The last thing we need is this turning into some big thing.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Flash demanded. 

Harry ignored him. “Penny, come on,” he pleaded. “Say something.” 

Penny’s tongue sat heavy in her mouth, like a dead lump of flesh over which she had no control. She recalled the way her body had locked up under Ryan, betraying her own mind, leaving her frozen helpless. 

“I - I want to go home,” she forced out. 

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, scrubbing at his face with his hand. “Yeah, we can make that happen. Ryan, go clean yourself up in one of the bathrooms-”

“That’s it?” Flash demanded. “You just send him off to lick his wounds?”

“What the hell do you want me to do, Flash?” Harry snapped. “Call the cops? Get every single person here charged with underaged drinking or possession of who fucking knows what?” 

“Oh so that’s it, huh? You’re worried about what they’ll find on you? You fucking rich, entitled, selfish prick. One of your buddies just tried to-” 

Penny inhaled sharply, and both boys’ heads whipped in her direction. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ryan take the opportunity to beat a hasty retreat. 

“I’d like to go home now,” Penny repeated, attempting to control the waver in her voice with only moderate success. “Please.” 

“Okay, yeah, come on,” Harry said, extending his hand in her direction. “I’ll find someone to give you a ride.”

“No, I’ve got it,” Flash snapped, practically batting Harry’s arm out of the way. “I think you’ve done enough. Come on, Penny.” 

He didn’t extend his own hand, and for that, Penny felt bizarrely grateful. Still a bit unsteady, she pushed herself towards the edge of the bed and stood on shaky legs. She trailed after Flash, stopping for just a second to glance back as they walked out the door. Harry wouldn’t meet her eye.

The thought of calling Aunt May was absolutely horrifying and mortifying and overall entirely inconceivable. And with that option off the table, there was really only one other adult that Penny could think to contact. 

“‘ello?” a groggy voice answered. 

“Matt?”

“Penny?” he asked, suddenly sounding much more awake. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Penny answered quickly, before she realized that was probably highly unbelievable considering she was calling him in the middle of the night. “I mean, I’m okay now - just…Can you come get me? Please?”

To Matt’s credit, he only hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Where are you?” 

Which is when Penny realized that she actually had no idea. Her momentary panic must have shown on her face because Flash rattled off an address into her ear, which she immediately repeated back to Matt. 

And then she came to another even worse realization. 

“Wait. Oh sh- oh crap. I’m so stupid. You can’t drive!”

“It’s alright, Penny,” Matt reassured her quickly. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve got a friend here who can give me a ride. Are you somewhere safe? Do you have a place you can wait until I get there? Are you with someone you trust?” 

“I…yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Penny flinched at the way her voice cracked, her body betraying her once again. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Matt sighed. “Okay, Penny. I’ll be there as soon as I can, you hear me? My friend drives a van. A black one. Keep an eye out, and call me if you need anything before we get there.”

“Okay,” Penny said quietly, angling away from Flash so she could wipe an errant tear off her cheek. “Thanks, Matt.” 

“Yeah, no problem. See you soon, alright?”

“Alright. Bye.”

“Bye, Penelope.”

Penny heard the line go dead, and she slowly eased the phone away from her face and back into her pocket. 

“He lives pretty far,” she told Flash. “It might take him a while to get here.”

“Yeah, okay,” he replied simply. 

They were sitting outside on the edge of the curb, a good ways down from Harry’s driveway. The houses here were nice and spread out, with huge lawns proportional to the rest of their massive scale, so at least they weren’t squatting in someone else’s yard. 

Penny found herself steadily sobering up, the one positive side-effect of the absolutely miserable cold. It wasn’t snowing or anything, but it was still February in New York, and Penny was currently sitting outside in a mini skirt and a tank top. She crossed her arms over her chest in a desperate bid to generate just a little bit of warmth. 

They sat in supremely awkward silence until Flash finally noticed Penny’s incessant shivering. 

“Where’s your jacket?” he asked. 

“I must’ve left it inside,” she replied. She knew she had. But she wasn’t going back in that fucking house. 

Flash’s eyes scanned over her, taking in her hunched posture, the way she had her hands tucked up under her armpits in an effort to bring a bit of feeling back to her fingers. 

“Do you need me to go get it?” he asked with obvious reluctance. 

“No,” she said simply, and they lapsed back into silence. 

Several more minutes passed with Penny staring out at the road and Flash fiddling with his phone. Something about his presence really started to irk her. Why was he still there? Why did he keep throwing those furtive glances her way? Was it pity? A sense of obligation because he was the one who’d found her? Either way, Penny didn’t like it. 

“You don’t have to wait with me,” she told him suddenly, voice cutting through the quiet air like a knife. “If you’re looking for an excuse to go back to the party, you can just go.”

Flash angled himself towards her, staring with a look that Penny couldn’t — and didn’t really want to — decipher. 

“You know, I might be a dick, Parker, but I’m not a complete asshole,” he said. “Besides, the party was lame. And I was probably uninvited somewhere around the time I called the host a selfish prick.” 

“You shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t Harry’s fault.”

Flash just shrugged. “Maybe what happened wasn’t. Maybe not. Jury’s still out on that one. But he sure handled it like shit.”

“How in the world could it have been his fault?” Penny demanded, turning her own body to face his. “He wasn’t even there.” 

“Yeah, but he sent you off alone with that jackass. Guys know the kinda friends they have, Penny.”

“Oh, yeah. ‘Cause you’re an expert at picking nice, wholesome friends.”

“I didn’t say that I was. But I know who they are.”

“And you still choose to be around them? You know that’s even worse, right?”

“Your little friends aren’t all sunshine and rainbows.”

Penny laughed humorlessly. “Oh really? I didn’t notice.” 

“I wasn’t talking about those friends but -” Flash stopped abruptly mid-sentence, holding his tongue on a rare show of restraint. “Look, I didn’t come out here to fight. Let’s just drop it.”

They both went quiet again, which only made Penny’s thoughts grow louder. Against her better judgment, she felt a sense of guilt rising within her. Flash was genuinely trying to be kind. It wasn’t his fault she felt so raw, so mortified that he had been the one to come across her in that moment of extreme vulnerability. 

“I - I haven’t thanked you -”

“You don’t need to,” he interrupted, voice firm. “If a guy tried to do that to Jessie, I’d kill him.” 

Penny recognized the name: Flash’s younger sister, two grades below them. She’d met her a few times back when they were all younger, playing around on the playground as they waited for an adult to come take them home after school. Because the thing was, Flash hadn’t always been so bad. He’d been kinda nice once, even, back in elementary when he was one of those kids who liked dinosaurs a bit too much and could discuss them with Penny ad nauseam. But then he’d had this big growth spurt the summer before seventh grade and became God’s gift to middle school football or something. 

Penny bit her lip, glancing down at the ground. “He didn’t - nothing really happened.” 

The look Flash fixed her with was utterly unconvinced but, true to his word, he didn’t try to fight her on it. 

“Here,” he said instead, shucking off his letterman jacket and holding it out to her. 

“You don’t have to-”

“Just take it, Parker.”

Penny did, shrugging on the too-large jacket with a suppressed sigh of relief. For all his flaws — and Flash sure had a lot of them — the boy ran hot . Probably all that stupid football muscle he was so proud of. 

The silence felt less loaded after that, which was nice since they still had to wait a fair bit longer before Matt arrived. Penny found herself grateful that they’d picked a spot so far away from the house. She could see teenagers stumbling out and making their way towards various cars every so often, but not a single one seemed to spot her or Flash. 

Penny wasn’t sure how much time actually passed — each minute seemed to tick by at a glacial pace — before a huge pitch black van seemed to materialize out of the night. Penny stood up as it approached and saw Flash do the same out of the corner of her eye. 

The van rolled to a stop a few feet away, and one of the tinted windows slid down to reveal Matt. 

“Penny, is that you?” he asked. 

“Hey, Matt,” she replied. “Thanks for coming.”

Penny's gaze darted over Matt’s shoulder, taking in his companion in the driver's seat. She couldn’t see much in the low light, but from what she could tell, it was a man a bit older than Matt with dark hair and a thick beard. Then his eyes caught hers, and she quickly glanced away. 

“Are you okay?” Matt asked. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Penny said quickly. “Let’s just go.”

Matt got out of the van, glasses on but no cane. He was wearing sweatpants, a dark zip-up hoodie, and a pair of sneakers that were absolutely beat to hell. Considering that Penny had hitherto only seen him in work attire and his Sunday best — both of which amounted to a suit and tie — it was a bit disconcerting. 

“Come on, you’re in the jump seat,” he told her. 

Penny bristled. “Why do I have to sit in the middle?”

“Because you’re literally half my size.”

“Actually, I know you might not be able to tell, but I’m nearly as tall as -” 

“Horizontally.”  

“Ugh, fine, whatever,” Penny groaned, making to move towards the open door. 

Flash held out a hand to stop her, though he didn’t actually touch her, which Penny hated that she appreciated so much. 

“So I’m just supposed to let you get in this sketchy ass pedo van with two old men?” he asked dubiously. 

Penny groaned. “No, you’re supposed to let me get in my Uncle Matt’s boyfriend’s van with said uncle and boyfriend.”

“Not my boyfriend,” Matt chimed in. 

Penny turned to him with a pointedly raised brow. She knew he couldn’t see it, but he always seemed to somehow feel that sort of thing. “So he was just hanging around your place at two in the morning?” she asked doubtfully. 

“Are you ready to go?” Matt returned, gesturing impatiently at the still-open door.  

“Parker, are you sure-”

“ Bye , Flash,” Penny said, pressing his jacket back into his hands. “Look, I - thank you. Really.”

He glanced between her and the admittedly super sus van one more time, then gave in with a heavy sigh. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, don’t mention it.” 

Without another backwards glance, Penny hoisted herself up into the van and slid into the middle seat, which was when she got her first good look at the man inside. Like she’d suspected before, he looked older than Matt by ten or so years, about the same age as some of her classmates’ parents. He was bigger than Matt, too. Taller, a bit more bulky. His eyes were dark like his hair. Dark and intense. They weren’t even pointed her way, and yet, she somehow felt their weight. 

Matt slid in beside her, and Penny felt herself involuntarily tense. She felt surrounded. Crowded. 

Trapped. 

“Buckle your seatbelt,” Matt murmured, and Penny hastened to do so as they pulled away from the curb. She glanced in the rearview mirror to see Flash still standing there, watching, until they turned the corner and he disappeared from view. 

“Uncle, huh?” Matt’s mystery man grunted once they were a few blocks away, making Penny jump just a bit.  

“Well,” Penny said, forcing herself to calm down before someone called her out on her twitchiness. “‘Older male Catholic mentor’ probably wouldn’t have made for a very convincing argument.”

“Catholic mentor?” the man questioned with a raise of his brow. 

“What? He hasn’t mentioned me?” Penny pressed her hand over her heart. “Mr. Matt, I’m hurt.”

Matt sighed. “I’m Penny’s Confirmation sponsor.” 

The other guy made some sort of noise between a laugh and a scoff. “Of course you are.”

“So, not-boyfriend,” Penny said, “what’s your name?”

“Pete.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Pete.”

“So, Penny,” Matt chimed in. “Are you planning to tell me why Pete and I had to drive out here in the middle of the night? I’m guessing it has something to do with the fact that you smell like a distillery.”

Penny didn’t know what did it. It’s not like his tone was even particularly harsh or judgmental. But as soon as the words finished leaving Matt’s mouth, she burst into tears. 

“Penny?” Matt said, sounding absolutely panicked. He’d never sounded like that around her before, and that realization only made her cry harder. 

“I’m sorry!” she choked out, burying her face in her hands. “I’m really, really sorry!”

“Penny, what’s wrong?” Matt questioned desperately. “Did you have another panic attack?”

“No! I - I - I was just so stupid . I didn’t mean to drink so much, but it didn’t even taste that strong, and it felt rude to turn him down when he kept offering me more punch…”

Penny trailed off, her sniffles and gasping breaths suddenly the only sounds filling an otherwise deathly silent car. 

“Penny,” Matt said slowly, “did someone… hurt you?” 

She wiped at her eyes. “N-no,” she stuttered. “I mean, not really.” 

Penny jolted forward in her seat as the car came to a sudden and abrupt stop. 

“Do we need to go back?” Pete demanded, rounding her with a stony expression and fire in his eyes. “Was it that little blonde shit with the jacket?”

“No, that was Flash,” Penny corrected. “He, well, he kind of is a little shit, but he - he stopped it.”

Matt did his emotion-suppression routine: pressed his lips together, breathed in deeply through his nose, swallowed thickly. 

“What’s the boy’s name?” he asked with obviously forced calm. “We’ll file a report.”

“No!” Penny shrieked before the words had even finished leaving his mouth. “We can’t!” 

Any modicum of composure that she had managed to regain immediately flew out the window. 

“Please don’t,” she begged, her heart pounding in her chest. “Aunt May can’t find out. She has enough to worry about as it is.”

Matt visibly tensed, uncertainty written across his face. “Penny…”

She turned as much as she could to face him full-on, tears trickling down her cheeks, and desperately grasped one of his hands in both of hers. “Please, Matt,” she repeated. “Please.”

Matt seemed to stare down at her, jaw working. “Okay,” he finally sighed. “Okay, Penny, I won’t tell her. I promise.” 

Without thinking, Penny launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

She could feel the way he froze for just a moment, clearly taken aback and unsure how to respond. But then he slowly wrapped one arm around her back and gave her a few gentle pats on the shoulder. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, of course.” 

When Penny finally disentangled herself from the stiffest hug of her life, she turned around to see Pete holding out a leather jacket. 

“You’re shivering,” he told her simply. 

“Oh, thanks.” 

Penny took it with a bit of hesitation. It was longer than she’d originally thought, more like a trench coat really. She hadn’t even noticed him fetch it, which he clearly must’ve gotten out of the van to do since he was just now shutting the driver’s side door. Penny delicately laid the jacket out over her lap, tucking her arms under it to warm up. Before she knew it, they were pulling back onto the road, headed for home. 

…

“Penny.” 

“Hmm?”

“Penny, come on.”

“What?” she mumbled, burrowing herself deeper into her warm, firm pillow. 

“It’s time to wake up.”

Penny's eyes fluttered open, and she blearily took in her surroundings. The interior of a vehicle. Dark leather seats. Windows so darkly tinted it seemed borderline illegal. Then she remember where she was: Matt’s friend’s van. She realized she’d not only managed to tuck her feet up onto the jump seat and curl into a little ball under Pete’s jacket, but also to worm herself up under Matt’s arm, head lolling against his chest. Penny felt herself flush, and she immediately pulled away, back into her own personal space. 

“Sorry,” she muttered. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Matt responded in about the most stilted, uncomfortable tone that Penny could imagine. “We’re just here. At your apartment, I mean.”

And so they were, pulled up right in front of the entrance. 

“Oh.”

“Here, I’ll let you out,” Matt said, opening up the passenger door and smoothly sliding out to stand on the sidewalk below. 

Penny, still half asleep, made to follow. Then she noticed the leather coat still draped across her lap. 

“Um, Mr. Pete?” she said, spinning back around and forcing herself to meet his gaze. 

He glanced down at her, his dark eyes unreadable. “Yeah, kid?” 

“Here’s your jacket,” she said, awkwardly offering it up. “And, uh, thanks for the ride.”

Pete took the jacket from her hand, his mouth quirked up at the corner, like the ghost of a ghost of a smile. “No problem, kid.”

Penny flashed him a little (surprisingly genuine) smile of her own and followed Matt out onto the sidewalk. She expected him to immediately get back into the van, but he hesitated. 

“Penny, is your aunt home?” he finally asked. 

“No,” she responded slowly. “She’s at work.” 

“Do you - do you need someone to come sit with you? For a bit?” 

Penny clenched her jaw and resisted the urge to lash out at his overly delicate tone. “No, I’ll be fine.” 

“Can I at least walk you up?” he asked. “It’d make me feel better, knowing you got there safely.”

She raised an eyebrow, his insistence doing nothing to abate her defensiveness. “What’s gonna happen?” she asked. “The elevator swallows me?”

“Please, Penny?” Matt implored. 

Right as Penny was preparing to turn him down again, her eyes caught on a spot of drool she’d evidently managed to leave on his hoodie, and she found herself thinking about everything he’d done for her that night. Anyone else probably would’ve required a lot more in the way of explanation before driving from Hell’s Kitchen out to the suburbs of Queens in the middle of the night to pick up someone who — in the grand scheme of things — he barely knew. 

And this was almost certainly not the kind of emergency Matt had pictured her calling about when he’d given Penny his number. 

She sighed. “Okay, yeah, sure. Fine.”

Matt nodded, clearly relieved. “I’ll be right back,” he informed Pete as he moved to shut the passenger door. 

“Take your time,” Pete replied. 

Penny stood there on the sidewalk, wringing her hands as they faced one another. “Do you need me to, uh, lead you?” 

Irrationally, Penny felt herself tense up at the thought, her heart beating just a little bit faster at the idea of him standing so close, gripping her arm in one of his big hands. A memory flashed through her mind unbidden, the way that Ryan’s hand had dwarfed hers as he held it. As he pinned it down …

Penny shook her head, grateful that Matt couldn’t see the gesture. She was being stupid, of course. This was Mr. Matt , who she’d just used as a makeshift pillow for who knew how long. Who spent every Sunday afternoon with her, discussing God and the Bible, for Christ’s sake. He wasn’t going to hurt her.

“No, it’s fine,” Matt said, and Penny resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. “There’s not many people out this time of night. I think I’ve got it.” He produced his cane from his sweatshirt pocket and flicked it open with a series of rapid clicks. 

“Alright,” Penny said. “The door’s at your two o’clock, about twenty feet. Five steps up.” 

They made it into the lobby without incident. In a rare stroke of luck, the building’s shitty elevator happened to be working, which was great because Penny would’ve felt pretty bad making a blind guy feel his way up four flights of stairs. A relatively short ride and one hallway later, they stood in front of apartment 502. 

“This is me,” she said, waving her hand uselessly at the door. 

Matt nodded tightly, and otherwise didn’t move an inch. Penny searched her bag for her keys while she waited for him to either leave or say what was so clearly on his mind. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay, Penny?” He finally asked. “Even just for a bit? I’ll make sure I clear out before your aunt comes home, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Penny paused with the key halfway in the lock and started gnawing at her lip. Truthfully, there was a part of her that wanted to tell him yes. That dreaded the shadows and dark corners awaiting her in the empty apartment. But a much bigger part just wanted to be alone. 

“What about Pete?” she asked. 

Matt shrugged. “I’ll call him, tell him to head home. I can always catch a cab when you’re ready for me to go.”

Penny took a deep breath and reached back for the key, finally unlocking the door. She forced a smile even though she knew Matt couldn’t see it, just in case he could hear it in her voice. 

“I’ll be fine, Mr. Matt. Thanks. For everything. I really appreciate it.”

Matt pursed his lips as though he didn’t buy it but didn’t contradict her. “If you’re sure, Penny. But, please, call me if you need me.”

“Yeah, of course,” she replied as she slipped inside. “See you at church.

By the time Penny closed the door behind her, she had been completely overcome by a wave of pure exhaustion. The only thing keeping her from falling back against the door and letting her knees give out completely was the sudden and overwhelming urge to take a shower. 

She made her way through the apartment, tossing her purse and shoes in her bedroom as she passed by. When she got to the bathroom, she couldn’t get her clothes off fast enough. As her own hands slid her underwear down her thighs, she couldn’t stop remembering the feeling of Ryan’s fingers against her. As soon as they hit the floor, Penny threw the pair in the trash, burying them deep in the hopes that Aunt May wouldn’t ask any questions. 

She turned the water on scalding hot and slipped in before it even had time to warm up. She didn’t care; the cold was its own distraction. As the water heated and her skin quickly began to redden, she found herself scrubbing down furiously. She felt dirty, tainted. 

It took Penny several minutes to notice that she was crying, and by the time she did, it had already escalated into desperate, heaving sobs. The kind that put even her breakdown in the car to shame. She collapsed onto her knees, gathering herself into the tightest ball she could manage. 

And there she sat, long past when the water went from boiling to freezing, trying to remember what it was like to feel safe and clean. 

Chapter Text

Penny woke up on Sunday morning to a text message from Matt instructing her to bring a change of clothes in her backpack. Something comfortable. He also indicated that she shouldn’t tell Aunt May. Slightly sketchy, but intriguing. Penny did as she was asked. 

“Would you mind if Penny and I meet at my office today?” Matt asked May after the service had ended. “Foggy and Karen will be there this afternoon, doing some final prep for a trial we have starting on Tuesday. So if you’re uncomfortable with the idea of us being alone-”

“Matthew!” May exclaimed, clearly aghast at his implication. “Of course I don’t mind! Are you sure you have the time to work with Penny today?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Matt reassured her. “I can join the preparations anytime Penny is occupied.” 

Penny was currently feeling very much like a little kid being talked over by two adults. She didn’t particularly appreciate it, but her sudden urge to cross her arms and pout probably wouldn’t do much to discourage that comparison. 

It was her first time seeing Matt since That Night. She’d managed to beg off church the Sunday morning immediately following the party, telling her aunt that she felt awful and practically pleading not to go. May had conceded, somewhat begrudgingly. It had probably helped that Penny looked like absolute shit, the combined effect of both a long night of crying and experiencing her first ever hangover. 

But that wasn’t going to work two Sundays in a row and, in truth, Penny didn’t really want to try it again anyways. Not that she was super pumped to go to church or anything, but she did want to see Matt again. Less out of a sense of gratitude — which would probably be true if she were a better person — but more so because she wanted to gauge his reaction to being around her now. To figure out if he was going to be able to pull off treating her normally in front of Aunt May, or if he would finally switch over to the pitying looks and kid glove treatment everyone else had given her after Uncle Ben’s death. 

But, so far, Matt had been… pretty normal. For him, anyway. The weirdest thing thus far was his cryptic text message, but she was willing to wait and see how that panned out. 

“Well, if you’re sure,” May eventually acquiesced. 

And that’s how Penny found herself at the back entrance of Nelson’s Meats about fifteen minutes later. 

“The butcher shop is closed on Sundays,” Matt explained as he unlocked the door with one of the approximately billion keys on his ring. 

Seriously. The man had a ton of keys. Why in the world did one person need so many keys!?

They entered into a little hallway, with a flight of steep steps leading straight up on one side and another door on the other. 

Matt gestured towards the stairs. “Foggy’s family used to live up there, but his parents moved to Florida, so it’s just Theo and his roommate now.” 

He led her through the other door, which opened into the familiar back-room-turned-law-office where she’d experienced her first panic attack. 

Oh, such fond memories…

“Well if it isn’t Miss Penelope Parker!” Mr. Nelson boomed, grinning brightly. “How’s my second favorite Catholic?” 

“Your whole family’s Catholic, Foggy,” Matt pointed out.

“Pfft, we hardly count, and don’t let my mom tell you otherwise! She’s just as bad about going to church as the rest of us.”

“She always went to Midnight Mass with me when I would stay with your family over Christmas break back in college.”

“Yes, because it was you , her favorite child.”

“Oh, not this again-”

“Hello , Penny,” Karen interjected. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Hi, Miss Page,” Penny greeted. “Mr. Nelson.”

“Please, call me Foggy. Mr. Nelson is my father.”

“Okay, Foggy.”

Matt gave her a dirty look. Penny managed to suppress her urge to smile smugly. 

“What’s with all the boxes?” she asked instead. 

“Oh, we’re moving,” Matt said simply in a great example of a terrible explanation. 

“Finally gonna have a real office space again!” Foggy elaborated with great enthusiasm. “It’s gonna be great! Man, I love my family, but I love them even more when we don’t have to interact every single day.”

“When do you leave?” 

“Lease starts this Friday.” Matt replied. 

“But Karen is making us stay here for an extra week so she has time to paint the walls and ‘spruce up’ the space,” Foggy added. Karen just shrugged, completely unapologetic. 

“Are you going far?”

Foggy scoffed. “And risk leaving Hell’s Kitchen? Not possible. Dear Matthew starts to wither ten feet beyond the border.” 

Matt shot him a nasty look, but Foggy continued undeterred. 

“Nah, the new place is just three blocks over. But we’ve each got our own separate office and there’s a conference room. Movin’ up in the world!”

Penny narrowed her eyes as she turned to Matt. “Did you tell me to pack a change of clothes because you’re about to force me to help pack? Does your firm engage in unpaid child labor?”

Matt did one of his full-body eye rolls as he felt his way over to his desk. “No, Penny. We’re going on a field trip.” 

“A field trip?” Penny repeated wryly.

“Yes, but if your aunt asks, we spent the day reviewing parables and memorizing Bible verses.” 

“I know I’m not really up to date on Catholic doctrine,” Foggy interjected, “but as her Confirmation sponsor, should you really be encouraging Penny to lie?” 

“Well, ‘all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,’ Fog. Romans 3:23.” Matt turned to Penny as he tossed a small duffel bag over his shoulder. “Feel free to share that one with May. Now, come on, let’s go.”

“Don’t I need to change?” Penny asked. 

“We’ll change there.” 

“Have fun!” Karen called as they headed for the door. 

“Peace be with you!” Foggy added right before it slammed shut.

…

“This is a gym.” 

Penny was currently surrounded by racks of weights, worn-out punching bags, and the smell of stale man-sweat. She didn’t think it boded well for the afternoon’s itinerary. 

“Is it?” Matt asked. “I can never be totally sure.”

“What about lunch?” Penny demanded. “You expect me to not only work out but do it on an empty stomach as well?”

“We don’t have time,” Matt said flippantly. He reached into his bag and tossed something her way. “Here, I brought you this.”

Penny nearly fumbled the catch, but she barely managed to hold onto the object. She stared down at the aluminum-wrapped rectangle, disgusted. “What is this?”

“It’s a homemade protein bar.”

“I said I wanted lunch . This is barely a snack.” 

Matt huffed and threw his head back, like he always did when grasping at the dregs of his patience. “Okay, what if I say you can have mine, too?” 

“First child labor, now child abuse? ” 

“Penny…”

“Okay, fine. But you’re getting me takeout after this.” 

Matt sighed. “Whatever. Just go get changed.” 

The gym they were at was called Fogwell’s, and Matt had used one of the many keys on his shockingly full ring to let them in. He’d explained that the place normally didn’t open until 2 pm on Sundays, but he knew the owner and got special “private practice” privileges. Penny figured it was probably tough for a blind guy to work out in a room full of people, so she guessed that made sense. 

There was only one locker room, and the musky man smell was even more concentrated in there. Clearly, Fogwell’s didn’t get much in the way of female visitors. She changed first into a t-shirt and leggings, then switched with Matt, who emerged a few minutes later in sweatpants and a tank top. 

Matt was… kinda ripped. His biceps were, like, nearly the size of Penny’s thighs. She didn’t know he’d been hiding all that under those suits. 

Penny shook her head, feeling the rush of blood as her cheeks no doubt turned splotchy red. Ew, gross. This was Matt . Her icky, boring Bible tutor. 

Matt turned towards her. “You ready to start?” he asked and, weirdly, his own cheeks looked a little pink.

“You still haven’t told me what we’re doing here,” she pointed out. 

“I’m teaching you how to throw a proper punch.”

Penny stiffened, her throat going a bit tight as she thought through the implications of his words. Matt thought she needed to learn self-defense. Needed to learn to protect herself. And she knew exactly what incident had brought this on. 

“It - it wouldn’t have made a difference,” she forced out. “Knowing how to punch.”

He cocked his head. “What?”

“I didn’t… I just froze up,” Penny explained in a voice that didn’t feel entirely like her own. “I didn’t try to fight back. I don’t even think I told him ‘no.’ So it’s not like it would have mattered if I knew how to hit him or not.”

Matt swallowed and looked away. He took a minute to gather himself before he turned back. “You know that’s not your fault, right? That reacting that way is totally normal and says nothing about what you did or did not want to happen?”

“I - yeah,” she agreed weakly. “Yeah, I know.” 

“Good ,” he said emphatically. “But it never hurts to know what to do. And sometimes it helps, having some muscle memory to rely on when your body goes into flight, fight, or freeze.”

For the most part, Penny was still unconvinced that this lesson would make any sort of difference. She’d never been much of a fighter, not really. Stuff just kind of… happened to her. Most of the time, she let it happen to her, taking the path of least resistance. If Flash or Liz started bullying her? She just took it. The only times she ever actually stood up to them, it was because they were going after someone else, like Ned or MJ. Penny simply didn’t fight for herself, and it wasn’t a matter of having the knowledge or ability. She just didn’t have the strength of will. 

“Alright,” she said in spite of all that. “Go ahead and teach me how to hit someone. I’ve always wanted a Rocky moment, and this gym is certainly Eighties enough.” 

“Seventies.”

“What?” 

“ Rocky came out in the Seventies.”

Penny smiled sweetly. “Oh, did you see it in theaters?”

Matt glared. “No, but my dad was a kid when it came out.” His face softened into something wistful. “He used to talk about it all the time. Said it’s what inspired him to take up boxing.”

Penny sobered a bit. “This where he trained?”

“Yeah,” he replied, that single word heavy with suppressed emotion. “There’s a poster somewhere over there from his last fight. And a picture of him up on that wall. At least, that’s what they tell me.” 

Penny walked in the second direction he had indicated, curiosity getting the better of her. And sure enough, there it was: a picture of a young man and an older one, arms wrapped around one another. The young one looked a bit worse for wear — a little bruised up and bloody — but smiling widely as he held up a belt high in the air, clearly victorious. 

“He was handsome,” she noted quietly. 

“So they said.”

“I guess you take after your mother.”

Matt barked out a surprised laugh, and the spell was broken, the tension sapping right out of the air. 

“Okay, smartass, get back over here so we can get started.”

“Language,” Penny chimed. 

“Yeah, yeah, I want you to start by making a fist.” 

She did as asked, tucking her fingers firmly into the palm of her hand. 

“Do you mind if I touch you?” Matt asked. “I want to check your form.”

“Uh, sure,” Penny said. She hadn’t really thought about how his blindness would impact his teaching methods. “Go ahead.” 

Matt reached out and gently ghosted his fingertips over her fist, feeling out the exact positioning of each finger. 

“Okay, good,” he said with a nod. “Your thumb is on the outside. You never want to put it on the inside, or you risk breaking it on impact.”

“Yeah, they always say that in, like, movies and stuff.” 

“Well, at least the movies get something right. Move your thumb up a little bit. Yeah, there. You want it to lay across the middle section of your fingers.” 

Matt dropped his hand and stepped back. “Now, I want you to throw a punch.”

Penny glanced around nervously. “At what?”

“Nothing, yet,” he replied. “Just go through the motion, then I’m going to have you do it again a couple more times while I touch your hand and arm, if that’s alright.”

“Okay.”

Penny did so a few times, with Matt fixing all the little flaws he found. She needed to keep the back of her hand parallel with her forearm, needed to rotate her wrist just so as she swung, needed to keep her fist loose until right before impact.  It was a lot, but he went through it all with a surprising amount of clarity and patience. 

“Okay, now try again,” Matt began, “but this time, you’re going to hit my shoulder.”

Penny’s eyes went wide. “Wait, I -”

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured her without a single bit of hesitation. “Try to land the punch on the knuckles of your pointer and middle fingers. Avoid the ring and pinky knuckles unless you want a broken hand.” 

She was wavering, trying to psych herself up, when Matt held up a finger. 

“Wait a sec.” He turned around and walked a few feet away, where he slid off his glasses and placed them on a nearby bench. “Just in case you miss. I’d hate for them to get broken.”

As he moved back towards her, Penny found herself momentarily distracted. It was her first time seeing Matt’s eyes uncovered, and the sight was…unexpected. She knew they would be unfocused, of course, so the distance there didn’t faze her. It was less the eyes themselves and more how unveiling them changed his entire face. He looked younger. Softer somehow. 

Penny couldn’t help but feel like he was allowing her a glance into something much deeper and more personal. 

“You ready?” he asked. 

She squared her jaw. “Yeah.” 

Then she threw the punch. Matt didn’t even flinch. 

“Not bad,” he noted. “But you’re stopping at impact.”

“Uh, isn’t that how hitting something works?”

“You want to think of it like you’re punching through your target. Imagine a point six inches further back and aim for that. That way, you don’t lose power right before you make contact. Try again.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to use a bag?”

“I can’t tell as much from you just hitting a bag.”

“But-”

“Penny.”

“Fine!” 

Penny punched him again. Matt’s shoulder actually twitched back just a bit this time. He smiled sharply, almost baring his teeth. “Good!”

She eyed him skeptically. “I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy this so much. 

“This next part is important, especially for someone like you,” Matt continued, ignoring her completely. “You might be tall for a girl, but from what I can tell, you’re pretty skinny. A lot of people think of punching as something you do with your arm and, yeah, sure, technically. But a good punch uses your whole body, puts your entire weight behind it.” 

“How do I do that?”

“It’s all in the way that you punch, the motion you use. It should feel like a wave that starts in your feet as you push against the ground then travels through your body and up your arm. You should pivot your hips like this.” He illustrated in slow motion. “That’s where the force is coming from. It’s not about upper body strength. At least, it’s not all about upper body strength.”

They kept at it for awhile, with Matt critiquing and tweaking her form every so often. Eventually, they did move to a bag so Penny could drill the motion over and over, with Matt carefully wrapping her hands before she started.

“It wouldn’t do to return you to your aunt with busted knuckles,” he’d said. 

By the end of it all, Penny was a gross, sweaty mess, and she felt like her throat had turned into the Sahara desert. She dropped down onto one of the benches, and Matt handed her a water bottle from his bag before reaching in and grabbing another for himself. 

“You’re a quick learner,” he told her, which seemed like a pretty glowing compliment coming from him. 

Penny made a weak noise of appreciation because she was still too winded to reply. 

“Why don’t you go rinse off before we leave?” Matt said after giving her a few minutes to rest. “They still don’t open up for a while, and May might wonder why you look like you ran a marathon in her absence.” 

She scoffed. “No thanks. I’ve seen the showers in those locker rooms, and I’m not interested in developing some sort of sentient foot fungus.”

Matt rolled his eyes. They were golden brown. Warm and strangely innocent-looking. Penny didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that. 

“Well, clean up however you like,” he told her. “If your aunt calls you out on it, you’re in charge of coming up with an explanation."

“Like Foggy said, it seems a bit unethical, encouraging me to lie. 

He raised his eyebrows. “So I should compromise my ethics and lie on your behalf instead?”

“I figure your sense of morality is already a little gray,” she said casually. “After all, it also seems a bit unethical to be dating a client.”

“For the last time, Penny, I’m not seeing your aunt.”

“I wasn’t talking about her. I was talking about Frank - oops, I mean, Pete.” 

She was watching him carefully, searching his face for even a modicum of a reaction. Turns out, she didn’t need to be looking so closely after all because Matt immediately went stiff as a board.

Yeah. That’s what she’d thought.  

Matt pursed his lips, expression tight. “What exactly are you insinuating, Penny?” 

“You might be blind, but I’m not. The beard threw me off a bit, I’ll admit, but I got there eventually.” 

“You seem shockingly calm about all this.”

“So you admit it?” Penny asked eagerly. “That you're totally dating The Punisher?”  

“That we’re dating? Nope. But I’m not going to do your intelligence a disservice by trying to convince you that you’re wrong about who he is.” 

Penny took a second to let his words sink in. She’d been right. The Punisher had given her a ride home. Had let her borrow his jacket . It was kind of a lot to process. 

“So,” she said, “if you’re not dating, does that mean you’re, like, fuck buddies?” 

“Oh my god, I am not having this conversation-”

“Blasphemy.” 

“-and please never say that again.”

“What? Fuck?”

“I was thinking ‘fuck buddies’,” Matt said, “but yeah, that works too.” 

They lapsed into silence, which honestly was fine by Penny because she needed a moment or two to process. The day after the party, Penny had been too emotional and miserable to think about any aspect of That Night too deeply, but throughout the next week, she’d found herself going through the series of events over and over in her head. When she’d wanted to avoid the less pleasant (read: highly traumatic) parts, she revisited two particular moments: her weirdly cordial time on the curb with Flash and the ride home with Matt and his not-boyfriend Pete. 

Pete, who every time she recalled his face, seemed more and more familiar. 

One Google rabbit hole later, Penny was staring at a picture of Mr. Matthew Murdock with her jaw on the floor. But it wasn’t Matt she was looking at. It was the man next to him. There, in a bright orange jumper with his hands cuffed in front of him, sat a beardless Pete with a much shorter haircut. 

A beardless Pete who the article had identified as Frank Castle, aka The Punisher. 

Naturally, Penny had proceeded to have a small crisis about her findings. But by this point, that was so last week. 

“I have to ask Penny,” Matt said suddenly, “have you told anyone else?” 

“No,” she answered truthfully. 

He turned to her, focusing on her so intently she could feel it. “Are you planning to?”

“Eh, I have a secret I want you to keep. You have one you want me to keep. It works out nicely.”

Matt’s concentration slipped. He blinked. His jaw went a bit lax. “Am I being extorted right now? Is that what’s happening?”

Penny smiled sweetly. “Think of it more like quid pro quo. That’s a legal term, right? Or is it just Latin?” 

For a second, it looked like Matt was trying to decide between being shocked, angry, or — strangely — proud. Then he finally settled on just plain tired. 

“You don’t have to do that, Penny. I told you I wouldn’t tell your aunt about that night, and I won’t. Not unless you ask me to.” 

She scoffed. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“Then I guess I won’t be telling her.” 

“Okay. Then I guess I’ll keep your bang buddy’s identity to myself.”

Matt sighed. “That’s really not any better.” 

“I just shrugged.”

“As I said earlier,” he continued, “you seem shockingly unbothered by this revelation.”

Penny shrugged again, this time unannounced. “He seemed nice. And it’s kinda hard to judge him.” 

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

“I mean, yeah. You know what it’s like, losing your family. You just feel so helpless. All you want is to feel in control again.” Penny hesitated, then she asked, “Did May ever tell you how my parents died?”

He nodded slowly. “She said it was a plane crash.”

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “And how do you take back control after something like that? I can't fight the sky. But with something like what happened with Ben… if I ever ran into that guy in a dark alley, and I had the kind of skills The Punisher has, well, I can’t promise both of us would make it out of there.” 

“Killing’s never the answer, Penny. No matter what the other person’s done.” 

“What if it prevents them from doing more bad things?” 

Matt sighed heavily, slumping over to rest his arms on his knees. “That’s a question I’ve struggled with. A lot. And every single time, I come to the conclusion that everyone deserves another chance to change. That no one man is meant to play judge, jury, and executioner. That it’s the kind of thing best left up to God.” 

“But God’s the one who let them do those things in the first place,” Penny pointed out. 

Matt paused, clearly thinking carefully about his response. Penny found herself reminded of Ben, the way he’d always taken their discussions so seriously. How he’d never treated her like a kid he was just trying to placate. At the same time that the memory made her heart clench, the comparison made her feel a spark of warmth. 

“I used to have this priest, Father Lantom,” Matt began carefully. “And he once told me that God’s plan is like a beautiful tapestry. He said the tragedy of being human is that we only get to see it from the back, with all the ragged threads and muddy colors. We never get to see the true beauty of the greater picture.”

Penny took a second to contemplate his words. “My uncle told me once that we all have the potential for both incredible good and unfathomable evil,” she said, “but what matters is what we cultivate within ourselves and others. I guess killing doesn’t do much in the way of cultivating good.”

Matt gave Penny a sad smile. “Your uncle sounds like a wise man.”

“He was,” she agreed simply. “I’d say the same about your priest but, I mean, that was a pretty sight-based metaphor to use on a blind guy.”

“Well, I haven’t always been blind.”

“I know. I googled you.”

Matt rolled his eyes again, but he smiled, too, just a bit. “Why am I not surprised?”

Penny smirked. “Guess that means you’re learning.” 

He stood up, slipping his glasses onto his face. “Alright, come on. Go get changed before all the gross men show up to use their dirty showers.” 

She immediately perked up. “Can we go get lunch?” 

Matt huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, sure. Let me call Foggy and Karen. See if they want anything.”

Penny gave herself a speedy sponge bath and threw back on her church clothes. As Matt was locking up after they'd walked out the door, she turned to him with a smile.  

“Look at us,” she said. “We managed to squeeze a little Catholicism into our totally secular field trip.”

Matt cocked his head her way, the corner of his lips quirked up in his own impish little grin. “Yeah, feel free to share the tapestry allegory with May. Just please keep all the punching and philosophical conversations about committing murder to yourself.”

…

“You got the Gyoza!” Karen cheered as they laid their spread out across the table space not otherwise occupied by various papers and cardboard boxes. 

Foggy peered over her shoulder. “Pork or chicken?”

“Pork, obviously,” Matt and Penny both immediately replied. Their heads whipped around to face one another, and Penny felt herself flush.

Foggy cooed. “Aren’t you two just precious?” 

Matt huffed. “Come on, Penny. Eat up before your aunt gets here.” 

“Wait! Before I forget!” She ran back over to her backpack and rooted around until she produced a plastic tub, which she gently pressed into Matt’s hand. 

“What is this?” he asked. 

“Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. They’re for Pete. A thank you for driving me home last weekend.” 

“Pete?” Foggy asked, glancing back and forth between her and Matt. “Pete who?”

“Matt’s not-boyfriend,” Penny explained cheerfully. “I needed a ride home the other night, and he came and got me.”

Karen’s eyes slid over to Matt, who, if he was aiming for looking innocent and unassuming, had missed it by about a mile. “Did he now?” she asked slowly. 

Knowingly. 

Hmm. Interesting. 

“Do you often send your ‘not-boyfriends’ on errands to pick up young teens?” Foggy asked. 

“I was there, too! It wasn’t just…Pete,” Matt defended. Then he rounded on Penny. “So why don’t I get cookies, hmm?”

She almost didn’t think that such an obvious attempt at evasion even deserved an answer, but then she landed on the perfect response.

“Because A) we’ve gone to the diner enough times for me to realize that you’re a tremendously picky eater,” she said. “And B) Pete didn’t make me cry.”

“Matthew!” Foggy cried, completely aghast. “You made Penny cry!?”  

The man in question did a fantastic impersonation of a deer caught in headlights. “I - well - it was a misunderstanding!” 

Penny decided to come to his rescue because she was working on being gracious and forgiving and Christlike and stuff. 

“I’ve also met one of his not-girlfriends!” she redirected. “Sometimes she’s our waitress at the diner.”

Strangely, Matt did not look relieved. Oops. 

“Hannah?” Foggy questioned. 

“No… that’s the other diner.”

Matt was beginning to turn a very interesting shade of pink. Penny was attempting not to look too gleefully delighted at this turn of events. 

“Oh, my bad,” Foggy said. “Matt has quite a few not-somethings scattered across the city.”

“I’m not entirely sure this conversation is appropriate-”

“Maybe not,” Penny said, “but it’ll make for some very interesting discussions when we get to the ‘Theology of the Body,’ unit in the Confirmation curriculum.”

“Foggy, Penny, stop slut-shaming Matt,” Karen scolded. “Let’s eat.” 

But Karen clearly couldn’t keep to her own rules because after ten minutes of the four of them stuffing their faces, she revisited the topic. 

“Do you think Pete will help with the office renovations?” she asked with a sly grin. “I’ve heard he’s pretty handy.” 

Without a word, Matt reached over and managed to unerringly snatch up her very last pork dumpling.

Chapter Text

On the Monday immediately following the disaster that was Harry’s party, Gwen had been waiting by Penny’s locker first thing in the morning, Penny’s coat in her hand and fire in her eyes. She had apologized profusely and, in Penny’s opinion, entirely unnecessarily. Apparently Harry had told her what happened, and then she’d proceeded to read him the riot act. And now, three whole weeks later, it appeared that they still weren’t speaking. 

Well, more like Gwen wasn’t speaking to him, and Harry was doing his damndest to work himself back into her good graces while continuously being snubbed. 

Things were still kind of weird with MJ — and Penny didn’t even want to be in the same room as Ryan — so every other day when they had lunch together, Gwen and Penny passed the time in the library. Mrs. Kemp, the librarian, even looked the other way if they snuck a little food in, as long as it wasn’t anything too messy. They sat in the part of the library where you were allowed to talk – albeit quietly – and would chat as they worked on their various assignments. Honestly, it was pretty nice. Peaceful. 

Until Harry showed up one day and plopped into an empty seat at their table. 

He held up his hands. “I come in peace, I swear. Just hear me out.”

Gwen kept her eyes on her textbook, though Penny could see her jaw working. “Sorry, it’s the library. No talking.” 

Harry pointed to a sign hanging up on the wall five feet away: Group Work Allowed – Hushed Voices ONLY.  

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gwen said. “Are you here to work on some group project I’m unaware of?” 

“Is that what you two are doing?”

“Well, Penny is my lab partner after all.” 

Gwen’s textbook was open to a picture of Washington crossing the Delaware. “THE BATTLE OF TRENTON” was emblazoned across the adjoining page in bold, bright red text.

“Yeah,” Harry said wryly. “Chemistry. Sure.” 

“What do you want, Harry?” Gwen snapped. 

“To apologize. Properly. If you’d just give me a chance.”

“It’s not me who deserves an apology.” 

“I know that. I’m here to talk to Penny.” 

That clearly brought Gwen up short. Admittedly, it kinda surprised Penny, too. 

Gwen narrowed her eyes at him. “If this is some kind of ploy to get me to forgive you-”

“Jesus, Gwen!” Harry exclaimed. “Is that really what you think of me? You know, not everything is about you.” 

Penny stared between the two of them, wide-eyed.

“Hushed voices!” Mrs. Kemp chided from her desk nearby. 

“Sorry, Mrs. Kemp,” they all chorused back quietly. 

“So,” Harry turned away from a flabbergasted and increasingly pissed-off looking Gwen to address Penny directly. “Can we talk?”

“I - um - yeah. Sure,” she stuttered. “But I’m not kicking Gwen out or anything. She was here first.”

“Fine by me,” he replied. 

Then Harry’s entire demeanor suddenly shifted. He sat up straighter, squared his shoulders and firmed his jaw. 

“Penny,” he began, his eyes staring unwaveringly into her own. “I’m really sorry for how I handled things that night at the party. It was super shitty of me. And I know it’s going to sound like an excuse, but I was, uh, under the influence. Of some stuff. So I wasn’t really thinking all that clearly. At the time, I just didn’t know what to do. But ever since, I’ve gone through it all in my head over and over again and thought of a million ways I could’ve done things better. My point is, I know I fucked up, I swear, and I want to make it up to you.”

There was an uncharacteristic awkwardness to his little apology speech that actually made it come across more genuine. Penny believed every word he said. And she didn’t like the idea that this had been weighing on him.

“Make it up to me how?” she asked hesitantly. 

“I know you really like science, and you’ve mentioned before that you’re interested in my dad’s work,” Harry replied. “Oscorp is hosting an expo this coming weekend. You know, showing off their own research and inviting other people in the industry to showcase theirs. It’s mostly for, like, potential investors and board members and people like that, but I convinced my dad to give me a couple of passes. Do you want to go with me?”

Penny was absolutely floored. 

“You want to take me to a scientific exposition. At Oscorp’s headquarters. That’s closed to the general public,” she repeated slowly. 

“Um, yeah?” he confirmed nervously. 

“Oh. My. God. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!”

Harry breathed a visible sigh of relief. “So if I take you, you’ll forgive me?”

“That’s not how forgiveness works, Harry,” Gwen cut in fiercely. “It’s not something you can just buy.” 

“Will I get to meet your dad?” Penny asked. 

“Uh, maybe briefly. He’ll probably be pretty busy, but I’ll see what I can do-” 

“Then, yes! You’re forgiven.” 

“Seriously?” Harry said, disbelieving.

“Penny…” Gwen said, disapproving.  

“It’s my trauma,” Penny pointed out. “I set the apology criteria.”

“Alright, fair point,” Gwen replied, then she turned to frown at Harry. “But just so you know, I’m still not over it.”

He huffed out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I think you’ve made that abundantly clear.”

He stood up, looking down at Penny and facing pointedly away from Gwen. “I’ll pick you up, okay? Saturday at five. You can text me your address closer to then.”

“What do I wear?” Penny asked. 

“I don’t know. Like a cocktail dress? Maybe business attire?”

“Okay.” Penny smiled. “Sounds good.”

Harry grinned back at her as he backed his way towards the library entrance. “Great. See ya then, Penn.” 

The door swung shut behind him, leaving the library silent once more. 

“I can’t believe you forgave him that easily,” Gwen said quietly. 

“Well, to be honest, I was never really that mad at him in the first place,” Penny replied. “That was mostly you.”

Gwen turned to her, mouth agape. “Because he deserved it!” she exclaimed. “Penny, he sent you, a girl who was nearly blackout drunk, off alone with the very same guy who spent the entire night shoving drinks in your hand. He should’ve known something like that was gonna happen!” 

“Well obviously he didn’t, or he wouldn’t have left me alone with him in the first place.” 

“Because he was too drunk to think clearly! And probably high, too. Which is exactly the excuse he gave for why he handled it so poorly when something did happen.”

“Look, yeah, alright,” Penny conceded. “It was shitty, the way he just - just let Ryan off like that. But he knows he made a mistake! You said he called you the very next morning to check on me.” 

“Yeah, instead of bothering to check on you himself ,” Gwen pointed out. “He only told me because he wanted someone to make him feel better about what he did. Well, that’s not my job. He screwed up. At some point, Harry’s just gonna have to learn to deal with the consequences of his own actions.”

“Isn’t that what he’s doing now?” 

“Is it? Or is he just using daddy’s wealth and influence to avoid them like he always does ?”

“Jesus, Gwen!” Penny snapped. “Is this even about what happened to me anymore? Or is it all stimming from some greater issue you have with Harry?”

Those words clearly hit Gwen like a smack to the face, causing her to physically reel back. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“It means you always seem to have a problem with him!” Penny answered, voice now far above a library-appropriate volume. 

Gwen paused and when she finally spoke, her reply came through gritted teeth. “It’s okay to have high expectations for how you deserve to be treated. Or, in your case, I’d even settle for moderate ones.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You let people treat you like crap, Penny!” Gwen exploded, throwing her hands in the air. “And not just the people who bully you, like Flash and Liz. I’ve seen the way you let Mary Jane boss you around.”

Penny’s jaw clenched. Her nostrils flared. “She’s my best friend .”

“Then where is she?” Gwen questioned, glancing around. “Where has she been when you needed her?”

“She - I didn’t - that’s not fair!” Penny sputtered. “She doesn’t even know!” 

“And why is that? Are you worried she’ll say she told you so? That she’ll point out she was right to tell you not to go to the party?” 

“No! That’s not it at all. I - ”

“Ladies!”  

Both Gwen and Penny whirled around to see a clearly irate Mrs. Kemp standing at the foot of their table. 

“If you cannot keep it down, I really must insist you leave,” she told them. 

“It’s fine,” Penny said, quickly shoving all her papers off the table and into her backpack. She’d deal with sorting them later. “I was just going.” 

Gwen’s face fell, regret painting her pretty features. “Penny, wait - ”

The bell rang, signaling the end of their lunch period. 

“See you later, Gwen,” Penny said before she made her escape into the crowded halls.

…

May was not totally thrilled with the idea of Penny going to the expo without adult accompaniment, considering what had happened the last time she’d gone to an expo. Penny had pointed out that A) it’s not like an adult had been much help the first time around and B) statistically, the odds of some other life-altering incident happening at this event as well were probably pretty slim. 

Penny didn’t exactly own much in the way of cocktail or business attire — and she figured her Homecoming dress was probably a bit on the short side — so the morning of the event, she found herself with really only one viable option: the modest black sheath dress she’d worn to Ben’s funeral. 

Aunt May gave her a sad, knowing look when Penny emerged, then offered up a slightly too big gray blazer and some way too small pumps that Penny had to positively squish her big ass feet into. The whole experience made her feel an odd pang of sympathy for the Ugly Stepsisters. 

As Penny was finishing up flicking on a bit of mascara and applying a little lipstick, she heard a knock on the door. 

“Penny!” May called. “Your friend is here!”

“Coming!”  

Penny skittered down the hall as fast as she could — which was not very fast at all, considering the heels — to find her aunt already ushering Harry inside. 

He was wearing a dark, well-tailored suit with a light blue shirt that emphasized his eyes. He’d left the top couple of buttons undone, and his tie was hanging in a loose knot around his neck. He looked posh and handsomely disheveled — like he’d stepped off the set of Gossip Girl or something — and Penny could tell from May’s expression that this was not the kind of boy she had imagined would be taking her niece to a science expo. 

“Hey, Penny,” Harry greeted with one of his trademark charming smiles. “These are for you.” 

He held out a lush bouquet of flowers — yellow roses interspersed with daisies. Penny had no idea if he'd somehow managed to find out her favorite flower, or if it’d just been a lucky guess. Either way, the gesture was unexpected. 

“Oh, Harry, you didn’t have to do that!” she exclaimed as she delicately cradled them in her arms. “Thank you!”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” he replied with a shrug and another charming little smile. 

“Penny, can you come back to my bedroom with me for just a second, please?” May interjected. “I’m sure I have a vase in there somewhere.” 

She spun around and started walking away before Penny even had the chance to respond.

“I’ll be right back,” Penny told Harry before she hurried after her, assuming that her aunt just wanted to sneak in one more short lecture on emergency preparedness and practicing situational awareness or something. 

As soon as May closed the door behind them, she rounded on Penny.  

“Penelope,” she hissed. “You did not tell me that this was a date . ”

Penny felt her eyes go wide. That was not what she’d been expecting. “Because it isn’t!”

May did not look even remotely convinced. “A cute boy gives you tickets to a fancy event, picks you up in a suit, and brings you flowers, and you expect me to believe it’s not a date?”

Okay, so maybe her aunt was making some pretty fair points. 

Penny found herself unable to make a very compelling argument otherwise. She couldn’t exactly say they were I’m Sorry tickets and Please Tell My Girlfriend To Forgive Me flowers. So instead she just said, “It’s not a date, I swear. He’s just trying to be nice.”

Her aunt still looked highly doubtful, but seemingly decided to let it be. “Just be careful,” she told her. “And don’t stay out too late.”

“Sure thing!” Penny agreed, before she beat a hasty retreat back into the hallway. 

Harry was standing there, scrolling on his phone. He glanced up when she walked back into the living room. “Oh,” he said. “Couldn’t find a vase?”

Penny looked down at the bouquet she had totally forgotten was still clutched in her hand. “Uhh…yeah. But May said there’s probably one in the kitchen!” 

Her aunt reappeared as well, and Penny promptly shoved the flowers into her arms. 

“Thanks, May!” she chirped. “Come on, Harry, let’s go!” 

Penny grabbed his arm and started dragging him towards the door. Harry looked mildly bemused but didn’t resist.

“Bye, Mrs. Parker!” he called over his shoulder. “It was nice to meet you!”

…

Apparently, Harry had a driver. Like an actual chauffeur in a fancy black town car who opened the door for them and everything. Penny was kind of in awe. This felt like the sort of thing that only existed in movies. But Harry had simply introduced him casually as Charles, like he’d known the man for years. And maybe he had.

It was easy to forget sometimes that Harry was filthy rich. Parties at his massive mansion aside, he didn’t really engage in any ostentatious displays of wealth. His clothes were nice but not obviously branded, and his outfits tended towards casual like most other teenage boys. He didn’t zip around in a fancy sports car or wave around the latest StarkTech. He didn’t post pictures of himself on luxurious vacations or eating out at five star restaurants with six month waiting lists. He was just… a normal guy. 

But it was obvious when they made it to Oscorp Tower that here he was anything but normal. He was highly recognizable and revered simply for his connection to his father. The doorman waved them through with great enthusiasm and the receptionist greeted them with a wide grin. 

“Good evening, Mr. Osborne,” she said. “Here are the passes for you and your guest.”

She handed over two lanyards with plastic tags clipped on the end. An Evening of Innovation with Oscorp , they read, their respective names printed below. In the spot where an attendee’s affiliation would normally go, both Penny and Harry’s passes simply said “Guest.” 

“Have a wonderful evening,” the receptionist said with another blinding smile. 

The entrance hall was massive, all glass and steel and wide open spaces that were currently filled with expo attendees milling about. There were various booths and tables set up along the periphery of the room, displaying research findings and showcasing prototypes. Penny and Harry went from exhibit to exhibit, taking in the wealth of information that they contained. Well, Penny did at the very least. Harry didn’t seem particularly interested in anything they saw, but she was absolutely riveted by some of the displays. There was a chest harness equipped with mechanical arms, designed to allow the wearer to manipulate radioactive substances from a safe distance. And a set of designs for an electromagnetic device that would theoretically allow the wearer to fly. Penny examined blueprints, analyzed graphs, and asked as many questions as the exhibitors would let her. Harry mostly snacked on passed hors d’oeuvres – and perhaps eyed the open bar a little longingly – but he stayed dutifully by her side. 

It admittedly felt kinda weird to be on a pseudo date with the boyfriend of one of her best friends. Eh, maybe ex-boyfriend.  Penny wasn’t entirely clear on where they stood. And, honestly, Gwen might’ve been her ex-friend, too. They certainly hadn’t left things in a great spot that day in the library, and though they’d still been cordial in Chemistry two days later and had even gone to the library together again that day during lunch, things had seemed…distant. 

Still, it was weird . 

Harry was nice. Charming. A perfect gentleman. But they weren’t exactly close. Most of their interactions had been buffered by Gwen’s presence, and the only time they’d spent without her had been on the night of the party. And, clearly, that had turned out real well. 

They were in between exhibits munching on a couple of little cups of some fancy trifle with tiny spoons when a man’s voice called out. “Harry!” 

Penny spun around and her heart nearly stopped beating. The man walking towards them had dark hair, prominent cheekbones, and Harry’s light blue eyes. She would’ve recognized him immediately, even if the family resemblance hadn’t been so strong. 

“Penny,” Harry said, “may I introduce my father, Norman Osborn.”

Dr. Osborn fixed Penny with a charming smile similar to his son’s. His was a bit sharper, though, less boyish, but no less devastating. 

“Hello, Penny,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

He extended his hand, and Penny surreptitiously wiped her sweaty palms on her dress before grasping it firmly. 

“It - it’s a pleasure to meet you too, sir,” she replied, shaking his hand a bit more vigorously than was probably appropriate. “Thank you for allowing me to come to this. It’s an honor to be here.” 

“Of course,” he replied magnanimously, though he retracted his hand the second she gave him an opening. “Harry tells me that you have an interest in science. In Oscorp’s research in particular.”

“I’ve read all your research on nanotechnology,” Penny gushed. “It’s just… brilliant.”  

Dr. Osborn raised his brows. “And you understood it?”

“Yes, I wrote a paper on it.”

“How old are you, Penny?”

“Um, fourteen.”

“Wow, impressive,” Dr. Osborn replied. 

He wore a look bordering on astonishment that made his words seem completely genuine. It made Penny feel a bit floaty, and the whole exchange seemed to take on an air of surreality. 

“Your parents must be very proud,” he added with a glance at his son.

Harry suddenly went rigid next to her, which Penny assumed had something to do with the fact that he knew her parents currently amounted to two gravemarkers over empty plots in Mount St. Mary Cemetery. 

“Actually, I live with my aunt and - with my aunt,” Penny replied, stumbling over her words a bit when she realized her usual correction no longer applied. “But, yes, she is proud.” 

“Of course,” Dr. Osborn replied with another disarming smile. “Unfortunately, I really must be going. I have lots of people to speak to this evening, as I’m sure you can imagine. But I hope to see you again, Penny.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Yeah, totally.” 

Dr. Osborn turned to leave, then he glanced back, addressing his son. “Harry, button up your collar and fix your tie. Remember, a man makes an impression before he ever speaks a word.” 

Then he walked off, leaving Harry and Penny standing there once more with their little cups and spoons.

“He seemed nice,” she said.

“Yeah, if you’re a genius,” Harry muttered with a roll of his eyes. “I think he wants to adopt you.” 

There was something bitter in his voice that spiked Penny’s curiosity. But they didn’t have anywhere near the kind of relationship for her to start digging, so Penny simply pointed to a booth twenty feet away. 

“That one looks cool. Let’s check it out!”

…

After another half hour or so, Penny had made it through all the booths of interest to her. There were a number that were clearly meant to appeal to military personnel and, while Penny found the science behind the weapons interesting in theory, she didn’t particularly want to engage with them in practice. They were back to munching on finger foods in the corner when Harry leaned towards Penny and nudged her gently with his elbow. 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he whispered. “Take a glimpse behind the curtain, so to speak?” 

Penny pulled back to look at him, letting her confusion show clearly on her face. “What do you mean?”

“You know, see stuff behind the scenes. Everyone’s down here. All the offices and labs upstairs should be empty,” he explained with a shrug. “We could take a look around if you want.”

Oh. At best, Harry was proposing that they sneak off to somewhere they weren’t supposed to be. At worst, he was suggesting they break into secure rooms. Penny wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that. Admittedly, it sounded pretty cool. And it wasn’t like she was going to ever get an opportunity such as this again. 

She bit her lip nervously. “I don’t know, Harry…”

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologized, misreading her hesitation for discomfort. “That - that was probably kind of insensitive. I get it if you don’t really want to go off alone with me. You know, considering… everything.”

“No!” Penny corrected quickly. “No, it’s not that at all. Just - aren’t you worried about getting caught?” 

Harry laughed. “Oh, Penny. Me, sneaking around to learn about science? My father would probably be thrilled!”

“If – if you’re sure.”

“Come on,” Harry said, holding out his hand with a smile. “It’ll be fun.”

…

Okay, yeah, Harry had been right. This was pretty fun. Even if Penny’s heart was currently pounding at about 200 beats per minute. But that was more from a sense of excitement and a rush of adrenaline than from nerves or fear. She wasn’t used to being a rule breaker and, truthfully, she found the whole thing kind of thrilling. 

They wandered the halls, looking into labs through big panes of glass and peeking into any unlocked offices they happened to find. When a janitor turned the corner, Harry pushed her into a nearby conference room, where they hid under the massive oak table – barely managing to muffle their laughter – until his footsteps finally faded away.

Then they traipsed up the stairwell to one of the higher floors and, as they emerged through the door, nearly knocked over a man in a lab coat. 

“Sh - sorry!” Harry said.

Both he and Penny immediately dropped to the floor to begin collecting the scattered files that the man had dropped in surprise. He seemed to have just managed to collect himself when they stood back up and pressed the papers back into his waiting arms – er, arm.

“What are you two doing up here?” he asked, eyeing them suspiciously. 

Harry drew himself up, putting on his best authoritative air. “I could ask you the same thing,” he said.

“I just needed a bit of a breather,” the man replied. “Parties like this…they aren’t really my thing. And you?” 

Penny examined the man more carefully, taking in his thick glasses, sandy blonde hair, and the nametag that identified him as Dr. Connors.

“Excuse me,” she interjected. “Are you Dr. Connors as in Dr. Curtis Connors?” 

“Uh, yes,” he confirmed hesitantly. “And you are…?” 

“Penelope. Penelope Parker. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Penny held out her hand for a shake only to realize that his single hand was already occupied with the files he was holding. She quickly dropped her arm back down to her side. “I – I read your paper on computational phylogenetics and herpetological versus mammalian development. It was fascinating.”  

Dr. Connors blinked a few times, as if in shock. “Are you interested in mutagenics, Penelope?”

Penny nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, very much so! I think its applications in terms of vector-mediated gene therapy are practically limitless.”

“Yes,” Dr. Connors replied, eyes bright. “Yes, exactly!” 

“Is that why you’re here?” she asked. “To present your findings?”

Dr. Connors glanced down, flushing a bit. “Well, uh, no actually. My research is still very much so in the theoretical phase. I’m simply attending as an Oscorp representative. I work in the R&D labs.”

“Oh.”

“What about you? You both look a bit young to be researchers or investors.”

“Uh,” Harry said. “We’re…um…”

“On assignment for the school paper!” Penny quickly explained. “Oscorp was kind enough to allow us to come as guests. Something about promoting STEM interest in the youth.” She smiled nervously. 

“Ah, well, yes. As I often tell my son, Billy, our children are our future.” 

“Of course, sir. Very wisely put.” 

Dr. Connors paused before his next reply, eying the two of them thoughtfully. “Listen,” he began, voice significantly more gentle than it had been at the beginning of their encounter. “I understand your curiosity, and it is quite clear that you have a genuine passion for science, but I really must insist that the two of you return to the exposition. This area is supposed to be restricted, you see, and quite frankly, I’m shocked that you have yet to be spotted by security.” 

At his words, Penny felt like an absolute idiot. Because, now that he mentioned it, how hadn’t they been spotted by security? Surely a building such as this – the headquarters of a multibillion-dollar multinational corporation – would have freaking security cameras . Maybe Harry was right and his dad really wouldn’t care, but it didn’t feel like the kind of thing that Penny wanted to chance. Suddenly, she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

“Oh, yes,” Penny replied, forcing another polite smile. “Of course. We will do just that. Um, thank you, sir. It was a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“You as well, Miss Parker.” He smiled warmly, then glanced at Harry with an expression of mild disdain. “And your…friend.” 

“Right back at ya, sir,” Harry responded wryly. 

“So, we’ll, uh, be going now,” Penny said, pointing towards the stairwell door.

“Yes, I’ll be sure to stay out of your way this time.” 

“Haha, yes! Okay, bye!” 

Penny grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled him through the door. They hurried down a couple of flights before either of them spoke.

“Nice job,” Harry complimented. “Good redirect there with all the science shit.” 

“Redirect?” Penny asked, slightly out of breath. 

He snorted. “Nevermind. Come on, this way.” 

Harry led them out of the stairwell, down a hallway, and to a large double door where he produced a badge from his inner coat pocket and scanned it. Penny’s heart started to race when she heard a lock click open. Harry held open the door and gestured for her to go first with a flourish. Hesitantly, she walked through and emerged into a massive room, only faintly lit by the emergency lights. 

Penny glanced around nervously. This did not feel like somewhere they were supposed to be. “Shouldn’t we be going back to the party, Harry?” 

“But I saved the best for last!” Harry exclaimed. He flipped on the lights and held his arms out grandly. “Welcome to my father’s private lab!”

Penny scanned the space, eyes wide. There were several work tables in the center of the room. Though it was clear that most held the evidence of projects currently in progress, all were neatly organized with piles of carefully stacked documents and not a single empty vial or loose screw lying around. A few sets of variously sized computer monitors were scattered about as well. The largest took up the majority of one wall, like one of those massive TVs you would see in a rich person’s home theater. The room was lined on one side with cabinets from floor to ceiling. Through some of the glass doors, she could spot what appeared to be a chemist’s wet dream – flasks and graduated cylinders of all types and sizes, multiple benchtop centrifuges, and seemingly every organic and inorganic compound that one could ever need. 

Penny took it all in, awestruck, and slowly turned back around to face Harry.

“You planned this,” she said. 

He shrugged and jumped up onto one of the empty tables, swinging his legs as he grinned down at her. “Yeah, I swiped the spare badge out of his home office this morning.” 

Oh, so now she wasn’t just an accomplice to breaking and entering. There was thievery involved, too. Nice.

Penny tried to swallow down her anxieties. It’s not like Dr. Osborn would get her in trouble for something his son did, right?

…right??

“You’d think he’d keep that thing more secure,” she said, voice coming out a bit strangled. 

“It was in the safe. He doesn’t realize I know the code. It’s not like it’s that original, just my mom’s birthday.” Harry fixed her with a sardonic smile. “I guess it pays off sometimes, having a dad who underestimates you.” 

Yeah, Penny wasn’t touching that with a ten foot pole. Daddy issues weren’t her speciality. Hers hadn’t lived long enough for her to develop any. 

“Are you sure this is okay?” she asked instead.

“Aw, come on, Penn! Just have a glance around. It’s not a big deal.”

“O-okay. Alright. But just for a few minutes.”

Penny was too scared to touch anything, but she did look at pretty much everything. She had never imagined a private lab could contain so much expensive and specialized equipment. Of course, money was no object for a man like Norman Osborn, but he had to have this sort of stuff scattered about in various labs throughout the building. She wondered why he felt the need to not only have a space of his own, but also to have so many supplies here exclusively for his use.

Suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through Penny’s hand.

“Ouch!” she yelped, glancing down to see a spider scurry across her thumb and jump to the tabletop below.

Harry’s head jerked her way. “Wha - oh, shit! I’ve got it!” 

“Wait -”

But it was too late. Harry sprinted over and his hand came down fast and hard, leaving behind a faintly twitching squished pulp. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Penny replied automatically, as she leaned closer to examine the spider’s corpse. “It looks like a false widow.”

Harry glanced at her uncertainly. “That’s good right?” 

“Eh,” she said. “They’re venomous-”

“What!?”

“-but not deadly.”

“Oh, thank god,” Harry breathed. “Can you imagine if I’d brought you here only for you to land in the hospital or something? I think Gwen might’ve actually murdered me!”

“Uh, yeah,” Penny replied, using the sleeve of her aunt’s blazer to wipe up the remains. Sorry, May, but she didn’t want to leave any evidence of their time here. “Maybe that was our cue to leave?”

“Yeah, alright,” Harry sighed. “Let’s go.” 

He made his way back to the lab’s entrance and opened the door for Penny once again. She walked outside and immediately froze in her tracks. A security guard was standing right outside the door, staring at them expectantly with his arms crossed across his chest.

“Oh, hi there!” Harry greeted, voice full of false cheer. “I’m Harry, Harry Osborn. I just ran up to my father’s lab to fetch him a… uh… pen?”

The guard remained perfectly stoic, expression unwavering. “Your father is the one who sent me, sir. If you both could please come with me.” 

Penny’s heart currently felt like it was trying to exit her chest. She glanced at Harry, who shot her a thin smile. 

“It’ll be fine,” he said.

He did not sound remotely confident.

…

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Harry said, eyes locked firmly on the floor. “It wasn’t Penny’s fault. It was my idea.”

They were standing in what was clearly a security office, with the guard who had escorted them down leaning against one wall and another watching footage on a few dozen screens. Penny recognized several spots that they had passed through on her unofficial tour of the building. She realized that it wasn’t so much that they hadn’t been caught before as it was that they had been allowed to get by with it.

Penny was sweating freaking bullets, heart racing, breath shallow. She felt hot and flushed and found herself praying to God that she wasn’t on the verge of another panic attack. That’d be a great fucking way to end the night. 

“So I had assumed,” Dr. Osborne replied. 

“We didn’t mean anything by it,” Harry insisted. “I swear.”

His father sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. After a moment, his posture relaxed just a bit. “Yes, well, believe it or not, I was seventeen once as well. And I, too, searched for any opportunity I got to sneak off alone with a pretty girl.” 

Penny felt her eyebrows shoot up her forehead. She was grateful that Dr. Osborn appeared to be more annoyed than angry at their little traipse through the building, but she certainly hadn’t predicted that he would interpret it that way. 

“How about you take Penny home, Harry?” he continued. “It seems the two of you were finished with the exposition anyhow.”

“I really am sorry, Dr. Osborn,” Penny said earnestly. “It was so nice of you to let me come. I didn’t mean to disrespect your kindness.” 

“It’s alright. Truly.” He spared her a small smile. “I meant what I said earlier, Penny. I hope to see you again. Just don’t let my son get you into any more trouble in the meantime.” 

Penny smiled back. “Yes, sir.”

Harry didn’t reply, gaze never once leaving the ground until his father had left the room. He stayed silent even as security accompanied them back to the front entrance, where Charles was waiting in the car outside. He didn’t finally speak until the car was a few blocks down the room.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to put you in that situation.”

“It’s okay,” Penny said absently. She was distracted. The bite on her hand was throbbing like crazy, and when she glanced down, it looked bright red and swollen. She also still felt those same symptoms that she had been experiencing in the security office, the ones that she had assumed at the time indicated an oncoming panic attack. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

Harry seemed to notice her malaise. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Penny forced out. “I - I’m just not feeling very well. I probably just need to lay down.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” 

They spent the rest of the ride in near silence. Penny could feel sweat dripping down her temples, but she found herself starting to shiver. Harry tried to offer up his jacket, but she waved him off. He kept eying her the whole time, as if worried she might drop dead right there in his fancy towncar.

When they finally made it back to Penny’s building, she could’ve almost cried tears of joy. Her stomach was starting to roil, and she really didn’t want to find out how much it cost to clean fancy custom leather upholstery. 

Harry insisted on escorting Penny back to her apartment. She did her level best to keep it together the whole way up. Right after she finished unlocking the door with shaking, unsteady fingers, Harry gently laid a hand on her arm. She nearly jumped a foot in the air.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologized. “It’s just… are you sure about that spider? That it wasn’t something worse?” He gestured to the bite on Penny’s hand, which was only looking increasingly angry, the redness beginning to spread up her forearm.

Admittedly, she wasn’t sure. Not completely. Penny was hardly an arachnologist, but she had been one of those weird kids who was strangely obsessed with bugs and various other creepy-crawlies. She felt fairly certain that she was going to be fine.

“Really, Harry, it’s okay,” she said as she eased the door open and quickly slipped inside. “I’m sure I’ll feel better by morning.”

Chapter Text

Penny did not feel better by morning. In fact, she felt even worse.

May had spent the day finding new (and often oddly aggressive) ways to demonstrate her concern. 

“I’m putting a moratorium on expos, Penelope,” she declared as she piled yet another blanket on top of Penny. 

“I’m fine, May,” Penny mumbled around the thermometer sticking out of her mouth. 

“Hush,” her aunt scolded. “You’ll mess up the reading.”

When it finally beeped, May plucked the thermometer out of her mouth. “101.4,” she said with a sense of great disapproval, as though Penny’s body temperature had personally disappointed her. 

It was midafternoon and Penny had been feeling progressively shitter all day, but May had to leave for work soon, so Penny was doing her best to downplay her symptoms. 

It didn’t appear to be working all that well. 

“Are you sure you’ll be alright alone, honey?” May asked for the thousandth time. “I can call out if you need me to.”

“No, go,” Penny insisted yet again. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Penny had also been wearing an oversized sweatshirt all day, sleeves pulled down low to cover the site of the bite, which was looking increasingly nasty. She didn’t want May to know about the spider, mostly because she was sure her aunt would insist on a visit to the ER as a precautionary measure. But, currently, the Parkers didn’t have “precautionary measure” money, so Penny was pretending she’d just managed to pick up some freak bug the night before.

Ha, bug . More like an arachnid. 

“What’s so funny, Penny?” 

“Nothing, May,” she quickly replied. “Really, you should go. I just need to sleep it off.”

And that probably wasn’t even that far from the truth. She just needed to tough it out until the venom finished working its way through her system. After doing a bit of research the night before, she felt increasingly confident in her identification of the spider’s genus at the very least. And if it really was a false widow, she only had to endure like a day and a half more of symptoms max. Unless it was some sort of freaky, mutated super spider, she was gonna be fine. 

Still, though, she felt a bit of a pang as May finally walked out the door. It felt kinda nice, sometimes, being fussed over like that. Penny didn’t particularly like the attention itself, but she did appreciate the reminder of how much her aunt cared. And even though most of the time, Penny felt like she was fighting to get all the adults around her to stop seeing her as a little kid, sometimes it was kind of nice to be treated like one again. Just for a bit.

After May left, Penny slept fitfully for the rest of the early evening hours. There wasn’t much else to do. She was too drained to read or even to focus on anything on TV. It was the kind of exhaustion that made even relaxing feel like a chore. She just wanted to sort of… stop existing for a few hours. To come back online when all of this unpleasantness had passed. 

God, Penny’s whole arm freakin’ burned . She was barely resisting the urge to scratch it down to the bone. The redness had spread up to her elbow and seemed to be most prominent at the location of the bite. And there was a spot right above the pulse point on her wrist that just felt… weird . Like the muscles beneath her skin were shifting and contracting against her will. The sensation of it all made her feel twitchy and restless. She got up from the couch on shaky legs and started pacing, despite the fact that her vision seemed to be blurring in and out, sharpening and magnifying one second, then tunneling into near darkness the next. 

Ugh, this was awful . Penny wanted to hack her freaking arm off. Surely anything would feel better than this . At some point, she gave into the urge, rolling up her sleeve and scratching vigorously along the length of her arm and the back of her hand until eventually she looked down and noticed the trails of red she was leaving behind. There was blood caked under the nails of her opposite hand. She quickly pulled it away and rushed over to the bathroom to find some hydrogen peroxide. There’d be no hiding this from May if it got infected.

After Penny tended to her scratched-up arm and slapped a band-aid over the bite itself, she boosted herself up onto the counter and whipped out her phone to start frantically googling ways to reduce itchiness. 

Oral antihistamines, hydrocortizone cream, ice, fucking baking soda – the internet was full of recommendations. Penny wasn’t sure how she was gonna explain dumping their entire stock of baking soda in the bath to Aunt May, so she decided to nix that one. She dug through the first aid stash under the sink, desperately searching for some Benadryl or Cortizone 10 or calamine lotion or something . 

Nada.

Plan B then: ice. Penny grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the kitchen and laid back down on the couch. She made it about ten minutes before she broke. This clearly wasn’t working, and now her shivering had returned full force.

Okay, back to Plan A. Penny returned to the bathroom and stood on the toilet – ignoring her wobbly legs – to riffle through the cabinet. 

No luck. 

She tore through her shitshow of a closet – because things just kinda seemed to wind up there – then crawled halfway under both her and May’s beds, using her phone as a flashlight to see if she could spot anything . She’d take a rogue pill that even remotely resembled Zyrtec at this point. By the time Penny was digging through the freaking pantry, she was finally beginning to accept the futility of her search.

There was really only one thing left to do.

Okay, so maybe Penny was being a bit stupid. Maybe her fever had gotten so high, she was delirious. Maybe it really had been some sort of freaky, mutated super spider and her brain was currently liquifying as she shoved her feet in her shoes and threw on her jacket. It didn’t matter. Penny’s mind was made up. She was going to get some fucking anti-itch cream. 

…

This was possibly not the most brilliant idea that Penny had ever had.

Roaming the streets of Queens late at night in search of an open store – that wasn’t likely to bring up any traumatic memories, right? No, of course not. Penny was doing great. Which was why her consciousness seemingly snapped back into her body at the sound of a door banging open.

Penny glanced around, wide-eyed. Shit. she didn’t — oh god — she didn’t know where she was . This part of town didn’t even look remotely familiar. How long had she been walking? How did she even manage to make it this far?

Penny whipped out her phone to check the Maps app. Well, at least, that’s what she tried to do. What she actually did was reach into one empty jacket pocket. Then another. Then patted down the pockets of her sweatpants. Then sorted frantically through the meager contents of her purse, producing only her wallet, three pennies, a scrunchie, and a capless tube of chapstick coated in God knows what. 

No phone.

So, either Penny had been so thoroughly dissociated that she – a born and bred New Yorker – had managed to miss getting pickpocketed, or she’d forgotten her cell at home in the first place.

God, please, please let it be the latter. She had no idea how she was supposed to tell May she’d lost her phone without revealing that she had left the apartment. And then May was gonna be pissed and then Penny was gonna get grounded and – 

Okay, focus Penny. Landmarks, look for landmarks. 

There were a couple of bars nearby, and a sign for a strip club down the block. Lovely. So she was in that part of town. Not that Penny had a problem with strippers – sex work is work and all that – but she knew that most of the strip clubs around town weren’t exactly located in tranquil, family friendly neighborhoods. Oh, shit. She was fucked. She was really, truly fucked –

Penny, focus !

But GOD she felt like her skin was about to burst open!! Like she was growing too big for her body to contain her. Like her very cells were vibrating out of control. It was horrifying. Terrifying.

Exhilarating.

Penny’s breath started to quicken, her heart started to pound. She was filled with a sudden, pervasive sense of dread, like a klaxon blaring in her head signaling DANGER. Shit, was she having another panic attack?

Penny ducked into a nearby alley and leaned against the wall, preparing to talk herself down like Dr. Brewer had taught her, but she realized quickly that something felt…different. Her breath was fast but not shallow. It was deep, filling her lungs to the brim. Her heartbeat was strong, her vision sharp, her mind alert. She could feel each individual hair on her arms rise, as though standing at attention. 

And still, a voice in her head called, Danger! Danger!

“I said no!”

Penny’s head whipped around, searching. It had sounded like the girl was standing right next to her. But that was impossible; she was completely alone in this alley. 

“Aw, sweetheart, come on,” a deeper voice responded.

“That’s not what we agreed on.”

“Just think of it as a little something extra for one of your most loyal customers.”

“No, I already gave you what you paid for,” the girl insisted. “We’re done.”

Penny could hear the girl starting to leave — a bit of rustling, a couple of quick, light footsteps — then a deep growl echoed through the air followed by the sound of a body smacking against brick. 

“We’re done when I say we’re fucking done,” the man hissed. 

Before she could even fully process what she was hearing, Penny was already running.

They weren’t even particularly close, a block or so over. Penny didn’t have time to question how she had managed to overhear their entire conversation — crystal clear, like she was standing right next to them — from a few hundred feet away because she was standing at the mouth of another alley before she knew it, peering at the figures tucked into the shadows. 

The girl couldn’t have been that much older than Penny. The man had her shoved up against the wall, pressing her cheek into the brick. One of his hands was up under her tank top, reaching into her bright red bra to grope her. The other was at her mouth, shoving two fingers against her lips. 

“Come on, baby. Open up,” he said. “Give ‘em a little suck.” 

The girl thrashed and grunted, but kept her mouth firmly shut. The man snarled in frustration and pulled his hand away. 

“Fine, have it your way,” he said. “I was trying to do you a favor. Don’t make a difference to me.”

Then his fingers were at the hem of the girl’s skirt, moving to flip it up. Penny felt a phantom touch creeping up her own thigh, a tongue roughly invading her mouth. She remembered the bright white smile she had once thought of as charming and friendly but now recognized as that of a predator. 

And she saw red. 

“Get away from her,” Penny growled. 

The man’s head whipped around. For a second, both he and the girl were frozen, a perfect stillness that broke quickly when he saw who had spoken.  

“What’d you fucking say to me?” he demanded, fixing his cold, dark eyes on Penny. 

She felt her bravado wither a bit under his scrutiny. The man was huge — over 6 feet tall and 220 pounds at the very least — so it was hardly surprising he didn’t find a girl half his size to be a threat. But Penny wasn’t backing down now. She wasn’t leaving this girl, not when she could practically feel the fear coming off her in waves. 

“Just - just leave her alone.”

The man just scoffed. “Beat it, kid. This ain’t any of your fucking business.”

Penny wavered. This wasn’t a fight she could win. She could always walk away and try to find help, maybe call the cops. But it would probably be too late by then, wouldn’t it? 

Then her eyes locked on those of the other girl, wide and terrified and all too familiar. And suddenly all Penny could think was that there was no Flash around to come bursting into this alleyway. The only person around was her — puny little Penny Parker who never stood up for herself. Who didn’t know how to fight back. Who froze up at the Homecoming dance when Liz stole her camera. Who froze up at the store before Uncle Ben got shot. Who froze up on Harry’s bed with Ryan hovering over her, much like this man was hovering over his victim now. 

Penny felt the itch beneath her skin grow and spread, like a buzzing in her very bones. She didn’t want to freeze this time. She didn’t want to fly away. She wanted to fight.  

“Hey, dipshit!” Penny called. “Suck on this!”

The punch was perfect. Beautiful. Flawless. Matt probably would’ve cried tears of joy… that was, if she hadn’t closed her eyes and managed to swing a good six inches to the right.

Her fist connected with something solid . Penny’s eyes cracked open to see the brick wall of the alleyway crumbling beneath her hand, a giant fissure zigzagging its way up the wall. She stared. The other girl stared. The jackass stared. 

Penny panicked. 

She grabbed the man by the shoulders, turned him towards her, and kneed him full force in the balls. He went down with a noise like one of those Ringwraiths from Lord of the Rings screeching at the top of its lungs. As soon as his knees hit the ground, Penny swung again – eyes wide open this time – and punched him square in the jaw. He fell to the ground, unmoving. 

“Holy shit,” Penny breathed. 

“Holy shit! ” the girl next to her exclaimed. 

“Are - are you okay?” Penny asked, reaching out.

She flinched away. “Is - is he dead?” 

“Uh…” Penny leaned down and felt at the pulsepoint on his wrist. “No. Just out cold.”

“Holy shit,” the girl repeated under her breath. 

The faint sound of police sirens started up at a distance, then began to grow steadily closer.

“The cops will be here soon,” Penny said. “You - you can stay if you want, obviously, but if you don’t want to have to make a statement...”

Penny was perhaps not the most worldly of girls, but she wasn’t completely naive. She knew what kind of services the man had been referencing. And she knew that the cops wouldn’t hesitate to take this girl in for solicitation, even if she was the victim in this circumstance. 

“Yeah,” the girl agreed, shakily reaching for her bag where it was lying on the ground. “I - I’ll go.” 

“Hey, wait!” Penny called before she could turn the corner. “There’s this place I volunteer at. It’s called F.E.A.S.T. They have, like, a shelter and food bank and stuff, so you know, if you ever need anything…” 

The girl paused, glancing back over her shoulder. “Yeah, maybe.” She smiled, something thin but genuine. “Thanks. For everything. You sure you shouldn’t run off before the cops get here, too?”

“Nah. I - I should stay. I don’t want him to, like, die or anything. I don’t think I’m ready to be a murderer.”

She eyed Penny up and down, sizing her up and so obviously finding her lacking in something that Penny struggled not to find it mildly offensive. “Yeah, I suppose not. See you around…?”

“Penny.”

The girl simply nodded. She didn’t offer her name in return. “Take care, Penny.”

“You, too.”

After she left, Penny leaned up against the wall at the mouth of the alley, staring uneasily at the unconscious man lying on the ground several feet away. She hadn’t really expected to hurt him. At least, not like that. The best she had hoped for was to knock him down long enough that she could grab the girl and run. But he’d been out cold for several minutes now, and while she was hardly a doctor, Penny knew that was never a good sign. 

Maybe Penny really should have left, too. Could she get in trouble for something like this? It was self-defense, right? Well, not self -defense, but selfless defense of others had to count for something!

Shit. Shit! Penny should have left while she had the chance. But it was too late now. There was a cop car pulling up to the curb — she could hear it clear as day — and there was only one way out of this alley. Two sets of footsteps drew nearer, and Penny flinched back when the first thing her eyes landed on was a gun.

“Hands up!”

Her arms flew into the air and her lungs seemed to shrivel up in her chest. 

“Relax, Carl, it’s just a kid,” the older cop said. “You’re scaring the hell out of her.” 

Carl dropped his gun, though he didn’t holster it. He assessed Penny with squinty-eyed suspicion. “What’s going on here? We received a call reporting sounds of violence and screaming.” 

“Ah, shit,” the other cop said when he spotted the unconscious man. “Carl, radio for an ambulance.”

Carl very obviously did not appreciate being ordered around, but Cop 2 clearly had seniority here. He turned to Penny as Carl made the call. 

“Young lady, I think you’ll need to come with us.”

Shit.

Chapter Text

Was Penny a criminal now? She kinda felt like a criminal. 

They had her sitting in a small, stuffy room at a cold, metal table in the most uncomfortable chair that her ass had ever had the misfortune to find itself in. She’d been sitting here for the past half hour, alone, twiddling her thumbs.

She wasn’t under arrest. They’d repeated that about five million times, so she figured it had to have some sort of legal significance. They had also left the door very, very slightly open, so at least she wasn’t sitting there in complete and utter silence. Still though, the mixture of boredom and anxiety brought on by the starkness of the space and the lack of human contact was putting her on edge, as she was sure it was meant to. 

When they had first brought her in, they had asked her a few basic questions, mostly about what had happened, how she was involved, if anyone else had been there, etc. Penny had asked if she needed a lawyer. They assured her it was fine – after all, she wasn’t under arrest – and that they were just trying to get a basic idea of what went down for their own records. So, she gave them the most abbreviated account possible: she saw some dude trying to assault a girl, she tried to stop it, then she wound up punching him, and the other girl ran off. She skipped the part where it was her who told the girl to run off and also the part where she cracked solid brick. Truth be told, she still couldn’t make sense of the latter but decided she could process that some other time, preferably when she wasn’t stuck in a police station. 

They hadn’t asked her for her aunt’s name or contact information yet, which did seem a little odd, but Penny had probably only been here about an hour. Maybe that was normal. What did she know? It was her first time being [not] arrested. 

At least she didn’t feel quite as shitty as before. She suspected the adrenaline had something to do with it, since as time went on, she could feel her energy sapping away and her exhaustion creeping back in. And thank the good Lord, her arm no longer itched like hell! Though, admittedly, it didn’t exactly feel normal either. 

Penny was drawn out of her thoughts as the door started to swing open, and there was Carl and Cop 2, otherwise known as Officer Hardy. Carl was apparently Officer Bollinger, but Penny had decided that Carl fit him better. 

Officer Hardy walked in and sat across from her in a chair that looked far more comfortable than her own. It actually had a cushion! So, right off the bat, Penny was kinda pissed. Carl followed behind him, shut the door, and leaned up against the wall like he thought he was tough shit. Penny desperately wanted to point out the chocolate stain on his collar. 

“Hey, Penny. Sorry it took us so long. We had to finish up a few reports first, you know, while everything was still fresh,” Officer Hardy said. “Speaking of things being fresh, have you had a chance to remember any more details while we were gone?”

“Uh, not really,” Penny said, doing her best to maintain steady but not overly intense eye contact. “I basically already told you everything.” 

“Basically?” Carl asked with an obnoxious raise of his brow.

Penny recalled one of Michelle’s many anti-establishment rants. 

“The police are always looking for a culprit, not the culprit,” she had said. “They just want to keep their clearance rates high. So never talk to a cop without a lawyer present. No matter how casual they make the conversation seem.”

Bearing that in mind, Penny turned to the cops, jaw set resolutely. “I want a lawyer.” 

“I really don’t think there’s any need for that, Penny,” Officer Hardy responded with a dismissive wave of his hand “We’re just chatting.”

“Well, you two can chat,” she told him, “but I won’t be talking anymore without a lawyer present.”

“Penelope…”

“Lawyer.”

“Miss Parker-”

“ Law-yer. ”

“Alright, fine,” Office Hardy sighed. “Did you have someone in mind?” 

Penny’s lips curled up into a little smile. “Actually, yes, I do.”

…

“Hello, Matthew Murdock speaking.”

“Um, hi, Matt.” 

“Penny?” 

“Yeah…”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked urgently. “Why are you calling from a police station? ”

“…how do you know that?”

“There was this whole pre-recorded spiel before I could accept the call.”

“Oh, well, crap,” she cursed. “I was kinda planning to build up to that.”

“Penny…”

“Okay, okay. I, um, I might need some help. I haven’t been arrested – they’ve made that abundantly clear – but I was involved in an, uh, altercation and, well, they have a lot of questions-” 

“Stop right there,” Matt interrupted. “Have they contacted May?”

“I don’t think so. They haven’t even asked for her name.”

“Okay. Have they read you your rights?” 

“Like, the right to remain silent and stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“No,” Penny glanced around nervously, lowering her voice. “Should they have?” 

Matt sighed. “That depends. Look, just hold tight. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I can call May -”

“No!”

“Penelope.”

“ Please. ”

“Fine. I won’t call her. Right now.”

Penny supposed that was the best she could hope for under the circumstances. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be there soon. Don’t say anything else to them, okay?”

“Alright.”

“Don’t give me any details right now over the phone but… you’re okay, right? Not hurt?” Matt asked, genuine concern bleeding into his voice, covering up any trace of the annoyance previously there. 

“Yeah, I’m alright,” Penny reassured him. 

Because she was. Shockingly so. Yeah, she still felt shitty and sick, but her right hand — which had recently punched a brick wall hard enough to make it crumble — was completely pain-free and unblemished. Smooth as a baby’s butt. Not a split knuckle or even so much as a hint of a bruise. Penny could remember boxing with Matt, how even in spite of the fact that he had carefully and thoroughly wrapped her hands, her knuckles had been red and sensitive for the rest of the day. 

Maybe it was only hitting something over and over that caused that kinda thing, Penny told herself, because denial was somewhat of a speciality of hers. 

“I’m leaving now. Hang tight, Penny,” Matt told her. “And, seriously, don’t talk.” 

“I know . Geez, I can keep quiet when I need to.” 

“Sure,” Matt said, all dubious and rude . “See you soon.” 

“Bye.” 

After Penny hung up, an officer took her back to her depressing little room, where she sat in that uncomfortable abomination of a chair and kept her mouth firmly shut. Officer Hardy and Carl tried to coax a few words out of her, asking about who her lawyer was and when he would be here, but Penny would not be swayed. She had something to prove. 

They left the room, clearly displeased — Carl in particular looked rather surly — and walked off down the hall. Even though their voices were hushed, little more than a whisper, Penny could somehow clearly hear them grumbling to one another. This police station must have some weird freaking acoustics or something. 

“Fucking kids these days,” Officer Hardy said, dropping his whole ‘good cop’ routine. “No respect for authority.”

“It’s all that ACAB bullshit on Twitter or Snapchat or whatever,” Carl replied. 

They returned after a while and proceeded to initiate a super boring, silent staredown. Carl wouldn’t stop tapping his foot. Penny’s eye wouldn’t stop twitching. 

Finally, another cop nudged open the door and poked his head inside. “Her lawyer’s here,” he informed them. 

“Let him in,” Officer Hardy grunted, finally breaking eye contact with Penny. 

The door swung open, and Matt waltzed into the room like he owned not only the whole damn place but also maybe the whole damn borough too. Despite the hour, he was decked out in a full suit, fancy little leather briefcase hanging off his shoulder. He was whipping his cane back and forth in a deadly arc that ended abruptly when it smacked into Carl’s shin. 

“Oh, sorry,” Matt said, baring his teeth in a sharp approximation of a smile. “I didn’t see you there.” 

“Hey, man!” Carl exclaimed. “Watch where you’re - oh.”

Matt swanned on over to the table. “Miss Parker?” 

“Here, Ma - Mr. Murdock.”

Matt reached out, palming at the air until his hand made contact with Penny’s shoulder. He gave it a brief squeeze before he dropped his hand to the back of her chair. 

“So, has my client been read her rights yet?” he asked. “Last I heard, she had not.”

“It wasn’t necessary,” Officer Hardy answered, mouth twisting in irritation. “She hasn’t been arrested or detained.”

“Oh?” Matt replied. “Well then come on, Miss Parker, let’s go.”

Carl stepped forward. “Wait -”

“Ah, so…she’s not free to leave?”

Officer Hardy quickly jumped in. “Of course she can -”

“I can?” Penny asked. That was news to her. 

“- but it would really help us out if she’d answer a few questions.”

Matt sighed, hands folding atop his cane. “Fine. Get me a chair. Then you can tell me what you already know and what you still want to know.”

Ten minutes later, Matt was emanating so much righteous fury that Penny half expected the room to spontaneously burst into flames. 

“So, let me make sure I’m understanding this correctly,” he began. “Penelope – a minor, a child – came across the scene of an attempted rape. And in spite of how horrifying the situation must have been, especially to someone so young, she heroically confronted the potential rapist and subdued him. And then you thought you would further traumatize this child by forcing her into the back of a police car and bringing her into the station for questioning? Alone? Without her guardian present?”

“First of all, we didn’t ’force’ anything,” Officer Hardy replied, face pinched up so tightly that Penny was amazed he could speak. “It’s not like we put her in handcuffs. She’s just here to give a statement and answer some questions. Secondly, she didn’t ‘subdue’ him. She punched him so hard his jawbone practically shattered.”

“That was an accident!” Penny protested. 

“And kicked him in the balls hard enough to cause, and I quote, ‘a case of testicular torsion so bad it belongs in a textbook.’”

“Oops?”

“Penelope,” Matt snapped with a pointed glare in her direction. 

Okay, message received. No more talking. 

“Gentlemen,” Matt said. “Would you say that you’re experienced officers? I’m afraid I can’t gauge your ages based off your appearances, so far all I know, you could be a couple of rookies.” 

If Matt was aiming to offend, he had clearly succeeded. Officer Hardy’s face pinched up impossibly tighter, and Carl audibly squawked in protest like some kind of oversized bird. 

“Between us, we have over twenty-five years of experience,” Officer Hardy answered tersely. 

Penny was willing to bet at least a solid twenty-three of those belonged to Officer Hardy himself. 

“Oh, well that is quite some time,” Matt replied, and Penny was impressed with his ability to so quickly pivot from calling the other man inexperienced to old. “Then surely you are familiar with the surprising feats that people can accomplish when faced with dangerous or distressing situations. I’m hardly a medical professional, but as far as I understand, it’s something to do with adrenaline. I would say that Miss Parker was certainly faced with an adrenaline-inducing circumstance this evening, wouldn’t you agree?”

Officer Hardy scoffed. “You expect me to believe that a skinny little teenage girl - ”

“Would you or would you not agree,” Matt interrupted, voice sharper but oh so deadly quiet, “that witnessing the attempted rape of another young girl is a dangerous or distressing situation capable of inducing an adrenaline response, Officer Hardy?” 

“I don’t recall giving you my na-”

“Please answer the question, Officer Hardy. It’s just a question. It would really help me if you would answer it.”

The cop’s nostrils flared like a bull about to charge. Matt just kept on smiling beatifically. 

“Well, if that’s all,” he said when neither of the other two men responded. 

“We need a signed statement,” Officer Hardy gritted out. 

Matt gestured magnanimously towards the door. “Then get my client a pen and paper and give us a few minutes in private to write one up. We’ll be out of your hair before you know it.”

Officer Hardy left the room without another word, jaw visibly clenched. Carl followed closely behind him, grumbling something under his breath about “fucking shysters,” which felt very 1920s of him.

Once they were properly alone, the door firmly shut and no footsteps sounding in the hallway outside, Matt turned to her. 

“Penny, what are you not telling me?”

“Me? Keeping secrets?” she gasped, eyes wide. “Matt, don’t you know you should never keep things from your lawyer!”

“Penny, come on,” he said, licking his lips in agitation. “I’m not playing right now. Was there someone else involved? Are you trying to protect them? Because the cops are going to find out eventually, and you really don’t want to be caught in a lie.”

“No. I was telling the truth,” she insisted, ignoring the slight pang of guilt that told her a lie by omission was still a lie. “It was just me, that girl, and the piece of shit who will hopefully be down a ball or two before the day is over.”

“Language, Penny,” Matt chided automatically. Then he sighed, heavy and a bit defeated. “So how did you do it? How’d you take down a man twice your size? And with such…severe injuries?”

For just a second, Penny felt a little bit guilty. His injuries had been pretty severe. She had never really thought herself the type of person who enjoyed hurting others. But then she remembered the fear and sheer terror in that girl’s eyes when their gazes had locked and she decided, fuck it, maybe she did enjoy it. Just a bit. Just when it came to awful, scummy people who got what they deserved. 

So in the end, Penny smiled up at Matt, batting her lashes sweetly even though she knew it wouldn’t make a lick of difference to him. 

“What can I say?” she said. “It was the grace of God. After all, I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” 

…

“Oh hi, Pete!” Penny chirped as she threw open the door of a familiar van that was parked on the side of a street a couple of blocks away. “How come you didn’t wanna pick us up in front of the station?” she asked, all big, guileless eyes.

“Get in, Penny,” Matt ordered in a tone that clearly conveyed he was 100% done with her shit.

Penny did as she was asked, slipping into the middle seat without complaint and turning to Frank as Matt slid in behind her. “So, what should I call you? Are we sticking with the fake identity, or can I use your Christian name from here on out? Because, to be honest, I feel like Pete is too close to Penny. It could get confusing.” 

“Why, plannin’ to need more rides?” he questioned. “This gonna become a habit, kid?” 

Penny didn’t actually have an answer to that, so she decided to share something that she figured he would appreciate instead. 

“I broke a rapist’s balls,” she told him matter-of-factly.

A whole host of expressions flickered across Frank’s face – shock, outrage, concern – until he finally seemed to settle on something vaguely proud. “Good job.” 

“Thank you,” Penny replied primly before rounding on the uptight lawyer on her other side. “See, Matt? Frank gets it.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Matt hissed sharply.

Frank ignored him. “Was it the boy from before?” he asked Penny.

“Nah, it was a different guy,” she answered. “Who was messing with another girl. But I stopped him.” 

“Good.” 

“What? She doesn’t get any lectures about half measures?” Matt demanded, which made absolutely no sense to Penny but Frank seemed to get his meaning. 

“Well if his dick is well and truly broken, I’d say that’ll at least stop him from attempting the same crime again,” he replied.

“Shut up,” Matt growled.

He looked well and truly incensed, nearly glowing red with anger. Penny had never seen him like this. She couldn’t help but shy away just a bit, reflexively scooting her way closer to Frank. The irony of considering him to be the less threatening of the two men was not lost on her. 

“Ignore him,” he told her. “He’s just pissy ‘cause he wanted to go out tonight, and I wouldn't let him.”

Penny glanced up at him. “Like, go out on a date?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“With you?”

“Yeah, we’d’ve been together.”

“So what was the issue? You know, it’s not okay to be a controlling partner, Frank.”

“Damn straight,” he agreed. “Also not okay to waltz around the city with broken ribs.”

“Broken ribs?!” Penny exclaimed.

“Cracked, Frank. It is cracked,” Matt snapped. “And it’s just the one.”

“How the hell did you manage that?” she demanded.

“Language, Penny.” Matt sighed deeply. “I ran into a door.”

“A door? Is that really the answer you want to go with?”

“Did you really shatter a man’s jawbone by calling upon divine strength?”

“Touché.”

They lapsed into tense silence until they hit a sudden dip in the road, and Penny felt her insides perform a series of flips. She pressed one hand against her stomach and clapped the other over her mouth.

Matt’s eyebrows leapt up to his hairline, and he exclaimed “Frank!” with a great sense of urgency.

“What?”

“Pull over!”

The van hadn’t even come to a complete stop when Matt threw open the passenger door. He let out a pained grunt as Penny scrambled over his lap, all bony knees and sharp elbows. Then she sprinted across the sidewalk to the nearest garbage can and proceeded to puke her guts up. 

Over the lovely melody of her upchucking, she could hear a series of rapid footsteps as someone hurried after her. 

“Penny?” Matt said from a couple of feet upwind. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy,” she replied. Then she leaned back over the trash and threw up some more. 

How much could there possibly be? Penny couldn’t even remember the last thing she’d eaten. 

“Crap,” she muttered in between waves of vomit. “Maybe it really did liquefy me.”

“What?” Matt asked. 

“Nothing.”

Once Penny had puked up about five stomachs worth of bile and general ickiness, she finally felt like she was finished. She sagged, suddenly exhausted deep down to her bones, and let herself plop down on the dirty sidewalk without a second thought, head between her knees. 

She sensed Matt squatting down next to her. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Sick,” Penny moaned. 

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“No you can’t.”

Matt sighed. “Come on, let’s get you back in the van.” 

Strong hands looped under her arms and started to pull her up. Penny whined in protest, but Matt was unrelenting. 

Jerk. Why couldn’t he just do the decent thing and leave her here to die? 

He practically carried her to the van, and in her pathetic state, Penny didn’t even stop to question how he managed it. She flopped around like a fish as he boosted her up onto the seat, where two more hands joined his to help move her along. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Frank questioned. 

“She’s sick,” Matt replied. 

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“Hypocrite,” Penny muttered. 

“Penelope,” Matt began once she was settled in her seat and properly buckled up. “I think you need a doctor.” 

“Nooooo,” she groaned. “No doctors.”

Frank laughed. “Karma’s a bitch, huh, Red?” 

“ Shut up, ” Matt hissed. “Come on, Penny. I’m not playing.”

“No. Doctors.”

“Probably just got the flu or some shit,” Frank said. “It happens. You got any medicine at home, kid?”

“No. Why tried go store.”

Penny suspected there might have been some words missing from that sentence, but she figured she’d gotten her point across nevertheless.

“Alright, Penny, I tell you what,” Frank said. “I’ll go get you some medicine. Then we’re gonna take you back home, maybe keep an eye on you for a bit, then you can go to bed. Sound good?”

“Good,” she mumbled back with a weak thumbs up. 

“Penny, are you sure you don’t want to go to the doctor?” Matt said.

Penny really didn’t feel like talking anymore. She opted for a thumbs down instead. Then she remembered Matt was blind and therefore nonverbal communication was largely lost on him, so she aggressively hissed to signify her displeasure instead.

“Okay, okay, fine. I get it. No doctors.”

After a few more minutes of driving – Frank carefully avoiding any little dip in the round – they pulled up at one of those 24-hour drug stores. Frank made Penny and Matt stay in the van while he ran inside to buy her meds. It was only after he’d made it through the door that Penny realized she hadn’t given him any of her money. 

She fumbled for the door handle. “Wait, I c’n pay-”

“Penny, it’s fine,” Matt reassured her, gently pulling her hand back. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Y’sure?” she slurred.

“Yeah.” Matt sighed. “Yeah, just go to sleep.” 

“‘Kay.”

The world faded to black before her head even hit his shoulder.

…

“Penny, come on, it’s time to wake up. We’re here.”

Uh, no thank you, disembodied voice. Sleep is comfy. The waking world is pain.

“Penny, I’m serious. You need to walk. We’re trying to not draw attention.”

Yeah, sorry, no. Walking? Terrible. Awful. 

“Fuck it. I’ll carry her.”

“What did I literally just say about drawing attention?”

“It’s the middle of the night, dipshit. You see anyone around?”

“I don’t see anything, asshole.”

“You hear anyone? Feel their vibrations on the wind or whatever the fuck it is you do?”

“Shh!”

“Calm down, drama queen, she’s out cold.”

“Cooold,” Penny whined in agreement. She was super, duper cold.

“See?” Matt hissed. 

“Come on, let’s just get her inside,” Frank said. “Tell me if the hallways are clear.”

They continued their bickering all the way up to the apartment, but Penny was pretty much tuning them out. Or maybe she was just half asleep. She couldn’t really be sure. Everything had reached that fuzzy, kind of amorphous stage of exhaustion where reality and dreamland blend together, leaving you with just faint impressions of the world around you.

And her impression was that they were being super annoying and way, way too loud.

“Sorry, kid. We’ll keep it down.”

Thank you. 

“Come on, her bedroom’s this way.”

Penny – far too out of it to be self-conscious – gave into the urge to nuzzle her cheek into what she was now pretty sure was Frank’s chest. He smelt surprisingly nice. Clean and just a little woodsy. It reminded her of a familiar cologne…

“Can you pull back the covers?” he asked, voice rumbling against her ear. 

“Yeah. Wait, let me get her shoes before you put her down.”

Penny felt someone very carefully undo her laces and slip off her sneakers, then she was gently lowered down onto her bed. Someone pulled the blanket up to her chin, tucking it in around her shoulders.

“So, Frank,” Penny mumbled around a massive yawn. “D’ya like the cookies?”

There was a little huff of laughter. “Go to sleep, Penny.” 

And she did.

…

Penny woke to the feeling of a hand in her hair. 

“Penelope,” a voice said gently. 

“Hmm?”

The hand stroked down to her forehead, resting there lightly for a moment before pulling away. Penny whined softly at the loss. 

“Your fever broke during the night,” the voice told her. It was a nice voice. Low and deep and smooth. Soothing. “But you’re dehydrated and clearly exhausted,” it continued. “I think you’re probably better off staying home from school today to rest.”

Yeah, that sounded like a pretty good idea. Penny felt like she could sleep for a thousand years.

“Okay, Uncle Ben,” she murmured. 

The room went still and silent for a moment, and Penny wondered if he had already left. Then fingertips ghosted through hair once more, and Penny let out a contented sigh. Her uncle’s hand withdrew and he walked away, footsteps lighter and more graceful than she recalled them ever being. She heard a quiet, “sleep well, Penny” right before he shut the door behind him.

Chapter Text

The next time Penny woke up, she felt markedly better. In fact, she actually felt even better than usual. More energized. Less wheezy. She found herself marveling at how much good a full night’s rest could truly do. 

She could vaguely remember May peeking in on her when her aunt had returned from work. Silent and careful, she’d felt at Penny’s forehead then had lightly pressed a kiss there before slipping out of the room. 

A half-drank glass of water was sitting on her bedside table next to an opened pack of medication, a couple of the pills missing. Penny couldn’t recall taking any and found herself wondering who had managed to coax them into her – her aunt or Matt or even Frank. Either way, she hoped her aunt didn’t keep close enough track of the contents of their medicine cabinet to question where they had come from.

Her phone was laying on her nightstand as well. She picked it up to see a series of unread messages. The first was from her aunt, just checking in to see how she was feeling. She shot off a quick reply then moved onto the one from Matt, which was much of the same. The third was from an unknown number, though its origin wasn’t exactly hard to guess.

Unknown: Thought you might as well have my number. Cut out the middleman if you need a ride in the future. Don’t make it a habit. Feel better. 

The second message made Penny roll her eyes.

Unknown: Pete Castiglione. Thought you might not know how to spell my name.

Yeah, yeah. Message received. Penny wasn’t stupid enough to have a contact that could be traced back to one of the most wanted men in America in her damn cell phone. Give her a little credit! She saved Frank’s contact information before she sent her reply.

Penny: thanks for the ride and the meds!!!

His own response came much faster than expected. 

Matt’s BF ❤️ : Np

Now there was only one unread message left, and Penny found herself approaching it with a sense of great apprehension.

Gwen: Are you okay?

Penny: yeah why?

Gwen: Why aren’t you in school? 

Penny: im sick 

Gwen seemingly didn’t know what to make of that. The … dots appeared and disappeared again and again. Finally, she settled on a response. 

Gwen: Do you need anything? 

Penny: no but thanks for checking! ill be back tomorrow probably

Gwen: Good. 

Penny really hoped Gwen meant it was good that she’d be coming back tomorrow, not good that she didn’t need anything from her. She chose to believe it was the former. 

With a heavy sigh, Penny forced herself to throw back her covers and get out of bed. Laying around contemplating the generally shitty state of her friendships wasn’t going to do her any good. She could feel the layers of fever sweat sticking to her like a second skin, and she was sure her sheets were in an equally sorry, gross state. Laundry and a shower. But not in that order. The Parker’s didn’t have one of those fancy-smancy apartments where you could throw a load in the wash and still have hot water left over.

Penny forced herself to strip the bed before she hopped in the shower so she wouldn’t be tempted to crawl right back in when she was finished. She sniffed at her sweatshirt, winced, and added it to the laundry basket as well. While she was grateful that neither Frank nor Matt had tried to change her into more sleep-friendly clothes – because ew, awkward – she was also fairly certain that there were more than a couple of stray drops of vomit around the collar. 

May was seemingly asleep when Penny emerged from her room because she made it to the bathroom without anyone demanding to take her temperature. The shower was a revelation, nothing short of divine. The hot water felt like Heaven against Penny’s skin. It was like she was being warmed from the inside out, thawing like a block of ice. She could have stayed in there forever if it wasn’t for the aforementioned shitty water heater. When the water started to cool, she felt the shift immediately and switched it off before any of her newly gathered warmth could be sucked away. 

After she dried off, Penny wiped away the steam from the mirror and took stock of herself. She looked…well, a lot better than expected. Not like she would have pictured someone whose past 24 hours included sweating out a spider-induced fever, beating up a man twice her size, getting questioned by the cops, and being nursed by a blind man and his boyfriend, the Punisher. Though, she supposed, she didn’t really have a baseline for how one would look after a day like that. Certainly less hale and hearty than she did now. 

Hale and hearty and… strangely well-defined. Like she was viewing herself in HD. Without her glasses . 

Penny leaned over the sink and pressed in close to the mirror. Her eyes trailed across her face, picking up on every pore and freckle. The exact follicle where each hair on her head attached to her scalp. The slight color gradations of her skin. She leaned back slowly. 

What the…

But it wasn’t just that, was it? Now that she was feeling a bit more alert and refreshed, she found herself picking up on other changes as well. Their building was old and poorly upkept, so the creaking and groaning of the pipes in the walls was hardly a recent development. But the sound of the water rushing along, the way she could pinpoint exactly where it was headed, that was new. The whooshing of the air in the vents overhead, that was new. Mrs. Gonzalez from across the hall had always watched her telenovelas at full volume, but Penny had never been able to understand what they were saying word-for-word. Well, as word-for-word as two years of middle school Spanish could get her. But now, she could recite every single thing they said like she was reading from a script.

Penny changed into fresh clothes and walked back to her room in a daze. She found herself recalling the incident from the previous night. She had been too preoccupied with her feats of strength at the time to really question it, but now she recalled the way that she had heard the conversation between the man and the girl from over a block away. Perfectly. Like she’d been standing right next to them. 

So what? She got bit by a weird science spider and now she had, like, super-vision and super-hearing and super-strength? That was ridiculous! 

Right?

Okay, but… what if it wasn’t so ridiculous? I mean, the Hulk was a totally normal dude before a shot of serum and some gamma radiation made him go all green and indestructible. Weird shit happens all the time. Hell, freakin’ aliens had invaded the city just a few years ago! 

So, if it was actually, maybe, totally plausible – and this wasn’t all one big massive fever dream from a coma she’d fallen into sometime after getting that spider bite – then… what else could she do?

…

Three hours minutes later, when Penny was standing on the fucking ceiling , she decided that was enough experimenting for now. She couldn’t keep this to herself any longer. She felt like she was about to burst with the need to tell someone, to confirm that she wasn’t just tripping balls due to a carbon monoxide leak or something.

And there was only one person she could trust with this. 

…

“I’m going to kill him,” Mary Jane said with great conviction. “First, I’m going to cut his balls off and stuff them down his throat, and then, I’m going to kill him.” 

“The balls-stuffing might do that part for you,” Penny pointed out wryly. 

It was a couple hours past dinner time, and they were in Penny’s room, snuggled up in the bed under layers upon layers of plush blankets. Penny had texted Mary Jane right after May had left for her shift – and hadn’t that been quite the feat, faking normalcy for May in the few hours they’d both been awake together – and she had said that she needed to talk to her. MJ had knocked on the door not even three minutes later. 

How had Penny ever doubted her?

“No, I’ll make sure he swallows them,” Mary Jane continued, her eyes almost gleefully vindictive. “Asphyxiation would be too quick and merciful a death.”

Penny sighed, fiddling with her hands in her lap. “Not that I don’t appreciate the righteous anger on my behalf, but please, I’m begging you, don’t confront him.” 

“Penny, Ryan tried to ra-” 

“Stop,” Penny snapped. 

MJ froze, clearly taken aback. 

Penny looked away and swallowed thickly. “Please,” she added quietly. “Just stop.” 

Penny kept her eyes down until the unexpected sensation of a hand wrapping firmly around her own caused them to drift back up to her friend’s face. 

“Are you okay?” Mary Jane asked, her expression as serious as Penny could recall ever seeing it. “Is this why you’ve been so distant the past few weeks?”

That surprised Penny. She’d thought it was a mutual thing, this silence between them. Had she actually been reading the situation all wrong this whole time? 

“I - I thought you were mad at me,” she said uncertainly. 

“I mean, yeah, but like steal your last bag of pickle chips mad. Not abandon you to suffer alone mad. I could never be that mad at you!” Mary Jane told her fiercely. 

“Really?” Penny asked, voice growing wobbly with emotion. 

“Of course! I love you, you idiot. You’re, like, my second favorite person on the planet.” 

“Behind Michelle?”

“Behind myself, dummy,” Mary Jane replied with a roll of her eyes. “Michelle is like fourth. Behind Anna. Because she, you know, feeds me and clothes me and stuff. It’s only fair.”

“That’s valid,” Penny replied, struggling to keep her shock from slipping into her tone.

Truth be told, she didn’t know why she was so surprised. It’s not like Mary Jane hadn’t topped her list of favorite people for years. And now that Ben was gone, she didn’t even have to share first place. Gwen hadn’t managed to supplant her, but for some reason, Penny had been certain that Michelle had taken her own spot in MJ’s list. Michelle was just so much cooler than Penny. She was witty and confident and worldly and all the things that Penny wasn’t that had always seemed to annoy Mary Jane to no end. For all her catty remarks and sassy internal monologue, Penny was kind of a doormat. 

Well, maybe less of one as of late.

“There’s, uh, there’s more,” Penny said.

“More?” MJ’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying that scumbag-”

“No! No, it’s got nothing to do with him. Well, I suppose it kinda does. Indirectly-”

“Penny, just spit it out.”

“Harry felt guilty so he got me tickets to this science expo thing and a spider bit me while we were there and now I might be part-arachnid,” Penny blurted out in a rush.

Mary Jane’s eyebrows rose so high they nearly became one with her hairline. “Come again?”

“I can, like, do stuff now,” Penny explained. “Stuff I couldn’t do before. Like see all your pores-”

“Hey!”

 “-and hear Mr. Walters talking two apartments over and - and stick to freaking walls. ” 

“Penny… this isn’t funny. If you wanted to change the subject, you could’ve just said so.”

“I’m serious, MJ! Look!”

Penny untangled herself from her mountain of blankets, slipped off her fuzzy socks, and proceeded to walk right up the wall until she was standing on the ceiling directly above her friend’s head.

Mary Jane’s mouth fell open. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Holy shit! ” 

“Yeah, I know .” 

“How are you doing that?!” 

Penny shrugged. “Spiders use the tiny hairs on their legs and van der Waals forces to stick to stuff. So I suppose it’s something like that.” 

“Oh my god.” 

“Yeah, that was my reaction.”

“Oh. My. God!” Mary Jane repeated. “What else can you do?”

Penny took her time walking back down to the floor below. “Well, there might have been another, uh, incident last night…”

Mary Jane narrowed her eyes. “ Incident? ”

So Penny told her. About the girl and the big hulking rapist wannabe. About the crumbling brick and the broken jaw and the suspicious cops and the freaking testicular torsion . The only thing she left out was Frank. In her version of the story, he was just Pete, Matt’s boyfriend and friendly volunteer chauffeur of teens in distress.

Her friend was clearly still processing everything by the time that Penny had finished her story, so the two sat in silence for a moment before Mary Jane broke it in a rather unexpected way. 

“I want to meet him,” she declared decisively. 

“Pete?”

MJ rolled her eyes so hard it was amazing they didn’t fall right out. “No, dummy. Matt. Catholic mentor, kickboxing instructor, and emergency contact extraordinaire.” 

“Oh.” Penny crinkled up her nose. “Why?”

“Because he’s a middle-aged man that you spend a weird amount of time with.”

“Is thirty-one really middle-aged?” 

“Is that really the part you wanna focus on?”

Penny heaved a heavy sigh. “I’m not being groomed, MJ. I’m the one who normally calls him , remember? And then he proceeds to show up with his boyfriend in tow, so…”

“Except he says Pete isn’t his boyfriend, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s obviously a lie. Why else would he always be around so late at night?”

Mary Jane just shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe they’re neighbors.” 

“Yeah, because it’s totally normal to go bother your neighbor at all hours of the night.”

“We’re neighbors, and you literally do that all the time.”

“That’s not the same thing,” Penny huffed. 

“Whatever. I still want to meet him,” Mary Jane insisted in a tone that brokered no further argument. “Your creep radar is, like, completely broken. Always has been.” 

Penny remembered the way she’d felt before she’d found the rapist wannabe harassing that girl — the way alarms had sounded in her head blaring DANGER, DANGER — and she couldn't help but wonder if that might not be so true anymore. Was it possible that she had some sort of - of precognition or something? No. No that would be crazy. Right?

Right. 

…right?

“Are you going to grow more legs?” Mary Jane asked suddenly. 

Penny blinked. “What?”

“Oh my god, what if you get pinchers? Do you think your bite is, like, poisonous now?” 

“Spiders are venomous, not poison-”

“Now is not the time for your pedantic bullshit, Penelope!”

“I don’t know, Mary Jane! Are you volunteering to be a test subject?”

“That’s it!” Mary Jane exclaimed, wearing the inspired expression that had only ever spelled bad things for Penny. “We need a place to test your superpowers out. And our shoebox apartments ain’t gonna cut it.”

“Ugh, don’t call them that,” Penny groaned. 

“What, superpowers? Oh, I’m sorry, did you have another preferred term for your sudden ability to walk on the ceiling? ” 

“Okay, fine. Where do you propose we run our ‘tests’? And when?”

“Well, there’s no time like the present.”

“MJ, it’s almost 9.”

“We’re teenagers, Penelope,” Mary Jane replied, perfectly blasé. “We have to learn how to sneak out at some point. Might as well be now.”