Chapter Text
“Pete?”
“Downstairs!”
He heard Miles’ and what he assumed were Ganke’s footsteps rush down the stairs.
“Dude! I called yo- What exactly are you doing?”
Peter was standing in the middle of the basement, different pieces of wood webbed to the ceiling and walls keeping them in place while he was apparently cutting them down.
“I’m renovating.”
“You’re renovating? By webbing up the entire basement?”
Peter looked around, seemingly confused as to what the issue was. Miles sighed.
“Does MJ know about your idea of renovating? Because I’m pretty sure that’s her desk!”
“Of course she knows!”
The nervous chuckle told a different story and Miles just gave him an unimpressed look. New York really should know what a handful the OG Spider-Man was to look after. They had made plans to take a walk and test an EMF project, buy groceries and then cook dinner. MJ had called it an intiative to get Peter out of the house under EMF “duties”.
“And...what’s with...this?”, Ganke vaguely gestured to the direction of questionably stacked tower of boxes, electronics and...were those clothes?
Peter looked at the pile, his expression going from confused to surprised? And then to annoyed.
“I...don’t actually remember. The desk distracted me.”
Miles sighed. MJ had mentioned Pete’s more than usual forgetfulness. But by the amount of stuff webbed to walls or the ceiling, Miles doubted she knew the full extent of started and then forgotten projects. Clearly Peter’s restlessness had gotten worse without his (sometimes unhealthy) outlet… and his ADHD probably didn’t help. At least the desk looked nearly finished. Even if it was currently webbed to the ceiling.
“Are you done with MJ’s desk? It’s 3pm already. She should be back in a bit and I’m pretty sure she’ll need it to edit her interview.”
Peter looked around the scattered pieces of wood, brows furrowed in concentration.
“Yeah,...good point. Guess I’ll paint it on the weekend. She’s got her trip to a networking event with Danika. I think. Lemme…”
Before Peter could actually take a look at his phone, Miles snatched it from him.
“Nu-uh. Desk. Put it back together. While it… dries or whatever, we’ll go get food and then we carry it upstairs. MJ will be back soon, no trip today and that’s all that matters.”
Peter sighed but nodded. The defeated look and slumped shoulder told Miles all he needed to know. Pete’s scattered brain had gotten worse with his (well-deserved and much needed) break and his weariness became apparent as he lost the facade he put up to quell any worries from those around him. Simply being the self-sacrificing idiot that Peter was as MJ put it. The lacking structure of a physical work place or split patrol duty had taken its toll. Miles had known that, of course. It was the main reason MJ had called both him and even Ganke for help. To get a semblance of a routine going while the other struggled with… well, everything. But that’s why they were here. To support him, get him to drop the facade and get him the help that he needed. Be it a routine, companionship or an outlet. It was something they all desperately needed after the symbiote mess, even if some of them had a better way to cope and bounce back than others.
After all: when you help someone, you help everyone.