*EDITED 6/13*

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Madeline stands behind Peter, brows furrowed in concentration and hands placed upon his injured shoulder as she inspects it.

The two had just finished a conversation that included many questions like, did the police come to arrest the man in the store Peter fought? How did he ever manage to climb thirty flights of stairs? And lastly, how did Peter even know which building she lived in? Let alone her apartment building and floor?

Once asked, he couldn't just say that he 'saw her through her window while he was swinging around as Spider-Man'. She'd never believe it even if it is true.

So, Peter quickly came up with a tiny and believable lie to reassure that he was no stalker. It was somewhere on the lines of, 'I asked Gwen at school today, thinking that I could maybe come over and help you finish schoolwork.'

And sure enough, Madeline merely joked about how he could've asked her herself through the phone—which then resulted in another supporting fib.

'I broke my phone this morning," he said, 'I gave it to Ned so that he could fix it after school, that's why I couldn't really call you beforehand." And again, another fib told by his mouth.

Madeline believed it with ease, but Peter felt awful for coming up with such stupid and useless lies. It was just more adding to the list, but it couldn't be helped—he needed her to believe that he never saw her as the web-slinging Spider. For her safety and well-being, of course.

Peter tries to hold in a couple of teeth-seething groans when Madeline rolls his arm back a certain way. She ends up swearing under her breath when she notices that his shoulder is lined up in the wrong position.

"I guess that guy really messed you up; it's dislocated pretty badly—" she mumbles under her breath.

Peter whimpered in his throat with a pained expression, which only makes her feel bad about his injury, "O-Okay, at least it's not broken."

"Yeah but it would probably end up bruising—which, really isn't as bad as I thought it would be. I'm just surprised you got out of a stick up with only this. Was he even armed at all?"

He thinks back to the robber's huge duffel bag filled with an assortment of shotguns and pistols. Maybe leave that part out.

"Nah, he was sort of a dumb and desperate type. He went down pretty easily, he really didn't even know how to fight at all."

Madeline hums in response, amused on how proud Peter Parker sounds when he talks about the 'big guy that was easily taken down.'

For a moment, she wonders on if Peter is just making this story up to try and impress her. Maybe it happened if he slipped and fell wrong? Or maybe while climbing up here in the first place. But she decides that he'll let his story slide, for, she loves hearing the proudness in his voice and thinks it's the most lifting thing.

"I think you've earned the name of 'Super Pete' then since your all into doing good deeds for others. All you need to do now is get a sign up form to join the Avengers. I'm pretty sure Tony would let you since you're already his intern."

Yeah, if only she knew that I already am one. . . Technically.

"I might," He jokes through a weak smile, which Madeline could practically hear. She chuckles under her breath and shakes her head to Peter's unwanted humor. She's half surprised that the boy could have such a humor at this time—but then again—it's Peter.

"You know, if you let me take you to the hospital, I wouldn't have to be the one to do this. It'd probably hurt less also," She says plainly while massaging his shoulder blade, trying to give him at least some sort of preparation for what needs to happen. But Madeline Osborn isn't a doctor, all she knows about a dislocated shoulder is to pop it back in place or let it stay there until it magically does itself.

"Yeah. . .but if May ever found out, sh-she would—"
"—She'd have a cow?" Madeline smirks as she continues to firmly dig her palm into Peter's shoulder. He scoffs and nods his head while he tries to hide the fact that her massaging technique is hurting like hell.

"Exactly," he squeaks out, holding in a wince of pain.

Peter sucks in a breath as—what feels like fiery hot lava—spikes in his arm. His hand clenches is a result as he tries his best to not make the biggest shriek of pain in his life.

Instead, he exhales as the fire seems to slowly burn away. Peter has never had a dislocated shoulder in his life, not even a broke bone. But he knows a broken bone would probably hurt way worse compared to this. And, well, being Spider-Man, that doesn't decrease the chances of getting one at all.

Madeline places a hand onto the back of his arm and another hand in the upper frontal part of his shoulder.

"Okay," she breathes out, focused on the injury of Peter's arm, "This might hurt a little but then it'll go away in a couple seconds."

"Have you done this before?" He asks her, now getting a sudden rush of adrenaline. He knows his Spider-Sense is going off like crazy, the hairs on his neck stand up, trying to warn him of the incoming pain. But Peter casts aside his senses and tries his best to relax—which really doesn't do much.

"Well, um—"
"—Yeah, don't answer that just, uh, count down from five. Wait, no, three. Count from three. Three is good—"
"—Peter," she says, studying his quite terrified facial expression. His eyes are squeezed shut but once she says his name, he opens one eye.

"Mhm?" He asks quietly.
"Your nervousness is making me nervous. Here, just take a deep breath," Peter now looks upon the short girl as she inhales, giving him a reassuring smile. So Peter boots out his nerves and breathes in at the same time with the girl. This surprisingly helps him as he suck in air through his nose.

"Okay, now out," She then tells him. And as he lets out a long sigh of air out of his mouth, he suddenly hears a loud popping sound come from his right shoulder. It's not long before he feels immediate pain shoot up his arm afterwards and he lets out many curses, not caring if any neighbors hear him.

"Sorry, sorry—!" Madeline ushers him with a hushed tone and quickly steps back from Peter, not wanting to do anymore harm. Her hands cover her mouth as she looks over to him in fear—she doesn't know wether she helped or made his injury even worse, "Oh God, I broke your arm didn't I? Shoot Peter, I told you shouldn't have been the one to do this."

But the boy's arm isn't broken, in fact, it feels a lot better than it did before. The constant aching strained pull of his muscle now ceases to exist. He rolls his shoulder back while heaving out air in relief.

"No, no, you didn't. It actually feels pretty good," he half chuckles, grateful now that the pain is gone. She was right, it did only last for a couple of seconds.

Madeline sighs, a hand placed on her chest as she mumbles something to herself Peter could barely hear, "thank God. I thought I had to take you to the hospital for a moment there."

The boy laughs a little as he now rolls both of his shoulders back, loving the now-free feeling he has when moving it in different positions, "Nope, I'm all good. You know, you should become like a nurse or a doctor or—something. You're good at it." He compliments with a beaming grin.

Madeline only blushes and puts her hands on her hips as she shakes her head.
"My father would think very lowly of me if I told him I wanted to go into Medicine. He already thinks I should start studying for Business and Tech instead of anything else."

Peter raises one of his eyebrows as he crosses his arms, "That sounds a bit boring, don't you think?"

Madeline nods, "It does. But if—. . when Harry gets better, he'll be the one to take on the name as President of Oscorp. But I guess my Dad wants me to be prepared to take over the facility once I'm old enough just in case Harry ever. . ." She trails off, not wanting to say the one word she never ever wants to happen to her brother.

She tries to forget that one word, and forces a smile upon her lips. It's not much of a smile, it's more of a hurting one to say the least. And Peter can see right through it, spotting the hurting girl even from a mile away.

He sighs quietly as he places two hands on both of the girl's shoulders, "Hey. . .he's going to be fine. I'm sure your Dad is doing everything he—" Peter suddenly covers his mouth with the inside of his elbow, sneezing into it. After one, it slowly becomes many and he feels the heaviness of his sinuses stuff up, almost to the point where he can't breathe.

Madeline notices his behavior, the only thing she sees when she grasps his free hand and looking at his pale face is a red-tipped nose and ears. He sniffs once before apologizing with a scratchy throat, "Sorry." 

"Yeah, I think we need to finish warming you up. You are still soaking wet and you're going to end up getting sick," She says while she quickly retrieves a warm towel on her bed and wraps it around Peter's shoulders.

"Aw, I'm okay actually," he insists, "Sh-Shouldn't I help with your schoolwork? I'm pretty sure that's important—" but he's interrupted when Madeline takes his hand and pulls him along across the room with a roll of her eyes.

"I've lived for the past week just doing schoolwork and seeing math equations left and right. And as much as I'd love help with it, your health is more important. E.V.A, turn on the fireplace please," she says to the air in front of her while guiding Peter to a small sitting area.

Him, on the other hand, is questioning on who this 'Eva' is. But it's not long when the girl's command is suddenly granted. The hollow metal box that sits in front of a coffee table and a white sofa, filled with wood, bursts into a small flame. Peter's eyes widen as the fire burns a nice and hot orange glow.

"Wow. That is awesome," he breathes out, completely in awe of the automatic fireplace that turned on by itself.

"That is E.V.A. Say hi to Peter, Eves."

"Hello Peter," A woman's voice says from above his head and he flinches in reaction. He looks up at the ceiling, spotting a couple of round speakers that have a tiny, constantly blinking, green light.

"Um, h-hi—hello?" He responds. His attention is caught when Madeline's giggles are muffled by her hand covering her mouth. She detaches herself from Peter's grip and goes over to the front of the couch, gesturing for him to sit.

"So— you have some sort of. . .intellectual robot lady that lives in your apartment?" Peter asks the girl, who is busy unwrapping an oversized blanket that was resting on the couch.

She looks up at Peter, a playful smirk written across his features, and returns the smile, "My Dad went through a handful of personal assistants at one point, and long story short, they all got fired one by one—it was pretty sad actually. So he spent about a week creating his own computerized ones; for here and at work."

Peter takes a seat on the white leather couch and stares at the fire in front of him, listening in pure fascination. Madeline continues and wraps the blanket around Peter's arms, "E.V.A is short for Enhanced Versatile Assistant, if you were wondering."

"Oh so. .did you name it E.V.A or does your dad have a weird thing for acronyms?

A lighthearted chuckle erupts out of Madeline's mouth as she plops down on the couch next to Peter. She criss-crosses her legs and faces towards him, "No, he does not have a weird thing for acronyms. I made it up because calling her 'Siri' sounded stupid. E.V.A. is much more smarter than the average Siri and I thought giving her a proper name would be cool. But, now I'm starting to realize it's not that cool—"

"—No, no, it is cool! E.V.A. sounds like a smart name for a. . .talking computer personal assistant."

"Thank you Peter." The female voice echoes throughout the room, having slight pep in her words which throws him back. His startled expression brings a small laugh to Madeline, who suddenly gets a slight chill from the breeze she let in earlier. The toes on her sock-covered feet curl up and she crosses her arms to warm her exposed skin.

"I think she likes you," She remarks with a flaunting grin, trying to ignore the now-rising goosebumps. But Peter doesn't waste time in catching her shiver.

He fidgets with the blanket given by her and sits up in the sofa, scooting closer to her and throws an arm over her shoulder. She gives him a questioning head tilt complimented by a shy smile. His gaze lands in the blue depths of her eyes, now twinkling greatly as the fire dances in front of them.

"You—uh—looked cold," Peter stutters out, completely entranced by her beautiful features. He momentarily questions himself on if this is all just a dream.

The girl hums in response and snuggles even closer to Peter, taking her side of the blanket and resting her head on his chest. His other arm supports her head in place as he feels her soft hair, combing his fingertips through it ever so lightly. The fire now burns to the brightest, charring the wood and lighting the metal inside until it turns red.

The rain hitting Maddie's bedroom window constantly makes a steady rhythm to the silence around them as she plays with something in her hand. Peter's gaze breaks from the entrancing fire and looks down at the girl who twirls the ring he gave her around her pointer finger. The slightest of a smile plays across his lips.

"Do you like it?. . .I-It's not much, I know it sort of looks cheap—" Peter mumbles on, about to say something on how getting it was a spontaneous act, but Madeline shakes her head in protest.

"—Pete, even if it was worth only a penny, I'll still love it. The mere thought of receiving a gift from you is just as good as anything," She says with pure certainty.

Peter's heart is suddenly overcome with joy as he nods and tries to speak but ends up stumbling over his words, "G-Good—good. Yeah 'cause it was actually from a gum ball machine and it only costed a quarter so. ."

Peter trails off as Madeline snickers and laughs, which only becomes contagious as he subconsciously joins in with her. She then rests her head back on his chest, still in a stifle of giggles.

Her gaze lands upon the ring she still twists on her finger. The fire in front of them now makes the colors turn an even brighter blue than before.

Madeline shakes her head, in a fit of blushing grins.
"Well then, for a quarter, it's very beautiful," She says, completely in awe of the piece of jewelry.

"Like you. . ?"

Just then, the two words ushered out of his mouth makes Madeline's heartbeat stop. Only does she look back up at him, it starts rapid firing going a hundred beats per minute. It threatens to pop out of her chest as she realized how close they are to each other.

Madeline smiles as she scrunches her nose, "Cheeseball."

And Peter swears, the amount of times he's ever wanted to see her smile like this is uncountable. The joyous feeling she radiates from her little giggles give the boy just pure happiness. And it seemed as though every time she'd laugh and smile, his life just gets a little more brighter.

It was only at this moment that he now realized how close their lips were to almost touching. His heart beat now matches up to speed with Maddie's, his arms wrapped around her small body, and her fingers now gently caressing his cheek.

The two teens were honestly scared, scared for what their first kiss would be like. Would it be with a person they hate? Love? Or both? Ever since they stepped into high school, all they ever wanted in their messed up world, was someone to hold for comfort, someone to tell their true feelings to, and someone to be themselves around. Here, with each other, the feelings of being scared faded away into a cloud of nothingness and all that fear disappeared.

Peter slowly leans in, the lump in his throat threatening to drop to his stomach. He allows her hand to travel from his cheek, up and around his neck as he could now feel her breath against his own. Millions of thoughts ramble through his brain, She's perfect—beyond perfect. How did I end up so lucky to even be this close to her?

The space between them begins to close, mere centimeters from being filled. But before it could be, a sudden female voice startles the two in surprise, "Miss Osborn?"

It was E.V.A. who had interrupted their moment. Madeline blushes like mad before she turns her head away sadly and clears her throat,
"Yes?" She asks, trying to avoid the sad stare upon Peter's face. But both of their expressions are suddenly changed in a second from disappointed to frightened when E.V.A says to them in the most casual way,

"You're father has arrived home. Should I tell inform that he has a guest?"

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