The wind tugged at Raj's hoodie as he sat on the edge of the rooftop, legs dangling into the breeze, eyes locked on the city below. Midtown was just beginning to stir under the weight of another weekday. A couple of yellow cabs honked somewhere near 48th, a dog barked, and the city carried on—as if two boys hadn't nearly exploded behind their school just hours ago.
Peter plopped down beside him, quieter than usual. For once, he didn't crack a joke or toss out some quirky fact about pigeons or breakfast bagels. He just sat there, his fingers tightening around the edge of the rooftop ledge.
Raj didn't speak either. The silence was a living thing between them—thick, heavy, honest.
He finally broke it. "I almost lost it back there."
Peter glanced at him sideways. "Yeah. I noticed. The glowing was kinda hard to miss."
Raj let out a humorless breath that might have been a laugh if it didn't taste like ash. "I mean it, Peter. That wasn't just a power flare. That was… almost everything coming out. Light, heat, anger. All of it."
"You didn't lose control, though." Peter's voice was firm, not kind, not pitying. "You caught it. You didn't burn anything. You didn't even leave a mark on me."
Raj shook his head. "Only because I saw your face. You looked scared."
"I was scared," Peter admitted. "But not of you."
Raj turned sharply. "Then what?"
Peter's voice softened. "Of losing you to whatever they're doing."
They both stared ahead again. Silence fell once more, but this time, it felt like something that had been earned—not feared.
After a while, Raj spoke again, his tone quieter. "I don't get it. Why test me like that? Why lure me into a trap just to see if I'd blow up?"
Peter sighed. "Because they want to know what you are. Not just what you can do—but what kind of person you are when pushed."
"And if I had lost control?" Raj asked, knuckles white against the ledge.
"Then they'd probably call you a threat and start preparing to take you down." Peter shrugged like he wasn't imagining that very thing happening someday. "But you didn't. You shielded me instead."
Raj leaned back, eyes closed. "I hate this."
"I know."
"I didn't ask for this."
"I know."
"I liked being boring," Raj added with a bitter chuckle.
Peter smiled faintly. "Trust me, you were never boring. You just didn't know it yet."
They sat a while longer. The air was cooling now, sun climbing higher but shadows still stretching long. A single plane crossed the sky like a silver dash against morning blue.
Peter finally stood and stretched. "We need to start planning."
Raj raised an eyebrow. "Planning what? How to survive next week?"
Peter nodded. "Yeah, but more than that. Right now, we're reacting. Monica watches, we react. Some mysterious group tests you, we scramble. We can't keep doing that."
Raj hesitated. "So what? You want to go on offense?"
Peter tilted his head, that classic Spidey-smirk returning just a little. "Not offense. Strategy. Observation. We learn their patterns. We stay five steps ahead."
"Like chess."
"Exactly. Nerdy, paranoid, life-saving chess."
Raj gave him a look. "You do realize I've never played chess in my life."
"Great," Peter said, clapping him on the shoulder. "That just means you'll be unpredictable. And that's perfect."
Raj snorted. "Fine. But no matching costumes."
"Aw, come on! You'd look great in red and blue."
"Try gold and I'm pushing you off this rooftop."
"Deal."
Another pause. Another deep breath.
Then Raj's voice dropped, low and unsure. "Peter… what if I become the thing they think I am?"
Peter's smile faded, and his gaze turned serious. "Then I'll remind you who you really are. Every damn time."
Raj blinked, caught off-guard. "You believe in me that much?"
Peter looked him dead in the eye. "No. I believe in how you choose. That cafeteria? You ran. The rooftop? You held back. The trap? You protected. That's a pattern I trust."
Raj looked away, voice barely audible. "Thanks."
Peter bumped his shoulder. "Don't get all sentimental on me, sunshine boy."
Raj gave him a crooked grin. "Says the guy who just declared emotional faith."
Peter mock-gasped. "I did not! That was purely tactical bonding."
They both laughed. It wasn't loud, but it was real. The kind of laugh that shakes dust off the soul.
Then the bell rang from far below—school calling, chaos looming.
Peter stepped back toward the rooftop door. "We've got to face the day eventually."
Raj stood too, slower. He looked down at his hands—still steady, still his.
"Yeah," he said. "But this time, we're not alone."
Peter flashed a thumbs-up, his eyes sparkling behind invisible webs of responsibility. "Not alone."
They vanished into the stairwell side by side.
Below, Midtown High buzzed like any other school.
But on the rooftop, where silence once weighed heavy, something else remained behind—two promises, invisible but unshakable:
One to never lose control.
And one to never let each other fall.