Chapter 13: "Throwdowns and Therapy Sessions"
(In which trees are harmed, egos are bruised, and Jess learns that Peter has a very different definition of "gentle sparring.")
Somewhere high in the mountains—hidden by illusion jutsu, chakra-based invisibility, and good old-fashioned paranoia—two costumed super-powered teenagers were about to commit grievous damage to each other in the name of friendship.
Breakfast had been great. Chill vibes, good coffee, minor romantic chaos. But now?
Now it was time to break bones and build character.
Peter hovered in the air, black-and-white suit gleaming faintly in the sunlight, massive chakra wings fluttering behind him like a summoned angel with ADHD. Jessica floated just above the rocky plateau beside him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, wearing her classic Jewel suit.
It was a little outdated.
It also did absolutely nothing to protect against Mach-3 slams into pine trees.
"As I explained," Peter called, casually rotating his shoulders like this was yoga class, "we're going to spar so you can get used to your powers and learn how to adapt. I'll give you pointers, but you've gotta rely on instinct. Use your imagination."
Jess raised an eyebrow. "This is going to be painful, isn't it?"
Peter flashed a smirk that screamed Yes. "Do you want to grow strong or not?"
Jess sighed and cracked her knuckles. "Just wanted to see if you were going to lie to me."
Peter flew back, widening the distance between them. About a hundred meters. Just enough for her to think she was safe.
"Alright," he said. "Let's start—"
THWIP!
Jess's foot was yanked mid-air before she could even blink.
"WAIT—!"
Too late. She got yoinked straight out of the sky like a ragdoll in a hurricane.
Crash! Boom! Snap!
Several unlucky trees screamed in splinters as Jess plowed through them, leaving a cartoonish trail of destruction in her wake.
Peter winced, landing lightly on a nearby boulder. "Man… this does not feel good."
(He was lying. It felt hilarious.)
Jess groaned from the crater she'd made in the dirt. "I hate you so much."
She didn't wait. With one hand pointed toward Peter, a bolt of purple energy crackled to life and shot like a mini plasma cannon.
Peter easily dodged. The beam pierced straight through the tree behind him, which then collapsed in a smoldering heap.
He raised an eyebrow. Okay, yeah. That would've hurt.
Jess took to the sky again, now mad and wildly hurling energy bolts like a caffeinated storm trooper with no aim.
"PEW PEW!" she shouted, fully committing to the chaos.
Peter zig-zagged through the blasts with ease. "Jess, I said instincts, not Star Wars sound effects!"
Peter leapt and spun between them with ease, flipping through the sky like an acrobat on too much caffeine.
With a flick of his wrist, a web latched onto a nearby rock. He slingshotted himself forward, becoming a black-and-white blur. In a heartbeat—
WHAM.
His feet slammed into Jess's midsection, knocking the wind out of her and sending her hurtling toward the mountain floor like a dropped phone.
Before she could even bounce, Peter webbed her leg midair, spun around, and—
BAM. Slammed her into the ground with a technique he definitely learned from Naruto's suplex-happy clone army.
Jess groaned, flat on her back. "Stars… I see stars…"
Peter landed beside her like it was nothing, casually brushing dirt off his suit.
"So," he asked innocently, "want to keep flying, or should we bring this fight down to Earth?"
Jess sat up slowly, groaning as she dusted herself off. A pinecone fell out of her hair. "Ughh… Let's just fight on the ground. This aerial stuff is giving me a migraine and possibly a concussion."
Peter grinned. "Smart choice. Let's just use our fists and feet for now. You know—classic street brawler stuff. No powers, no webs."
Jess stretched her arms, already cracking her neck like a boxer before a big match. "Great. Maybe I'll actually land a hit this time."
Peter gave her a mock-bow. "I'll even let you go first."
"Don't go easy on me, Parker," she said, stepping into a fighting stance. "Or I will burn those eyebrows off."
He smirked. "Fair enough. Let's see what you've got, Jones."
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Jess Jones was not what you'd call graceful. She wasn't clumsy either—just more of a "punch it until it stops moving" type of hero. But that approach? Yeah, it didn't work so well when your sparring partner was Peter Freaking Parker, now upgraded with Naruto-style training and reflexes sharp enough to dodge a sneeze.
She charged with a decent enough straight punch. Her form wasn't horrible. Maybe a solid 6 out of 10. But Peter simply tilted his body to the side and—BAM! Shoulder-checked her like an NFL linebacker.
"OOF—!"
She tumbled across the dirt like a laundry basket thrown down a flight of stairs.
But Jess was nothing if not persistent. She popped up, wiped the grit off her cheek, and went for a full-body tackle—this time with more energy and absolutely zero strategy.
Peter casually hopped over her like she was a wayward shopping cart, then planted a foot on her back.
WHAM.
Face meet earth. Again.
"Mmfph—!" Jess spat out a mix of dust, grass, and what she hoped was not a bug.
Peter stood nearby, arms crossed like a disappointed gym teacher. "Take it slow. Rushing in like a linebacker with anger issues won't help you."
Jess rolled onto her back, groaning. "This is so painful. I am tired of being yeeted like a dodgeball."
Peter offered a hand to pull her up. "Good. Then you're ready to stop playing and start learning."
And thus began The Training Montage™, aka Peter's crash course in hand-to-hand combat:
First came punches. Jess kept overextending, so Peter gently (read: painfully) reminded her to tuck her elbows in by jabbing her ribs.
Then came kicks. Her balance sucked, so he swept her legs—multiple times.
Grappling? She forgot to breathe. He flipped her.
Takedowns? She charged too high. He clotheslined her.
Elbows and knees? She hesitated. He didn't.
Every move she got wrong, Peter corrected—with a hit, a trip, or a toss. No lectures, no long-winded speeches. Just raw, repeatable pain.
But here's the thing: Jess learned.
Her body absorbed the mistakes faster than her brain could process them. Every stumble rewired her instincts. Every bruise sharpened her reactions. By the end, she didn't even flinch when he feinted a punch—she blocked it.
Her stamina? Gone.
Her body? Sore in places she didn't even know she had muscles.
Her dignity? Somewhere in the dirt, still spitting out grass.
But…
For the first time, she felt like a real fighter.
She collapsed backward, arms splayed across the mountain clearing, chest rising and falling with labored breaths.
Peter crouched beside her, grinning. "Not bad for your first real fight."
Jess cracked one eye open and groaned, "You're a terrible teacher."
Peter chuckled and helped her sit up. "You're just a terrible student."
Jess managed a weak grin. "Says the guy who literally kicked me in the back five times."
"Only five? I'm going easy on you."
Despite the pain, she laughed—really laughed—for the first time in what felt like weeks. And maybe it was the sweat, the exhaustion, or the fact that she'd finally fought without fear…
…but Jess felt good.
Really good.
A few more sessions like this? And she wouldn't need saving anymore.
She'd be the one doing the saving.
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Peter let out a long, satisfied sigh—the kind that said "I deserve a break before someone tries to punch me again." He stretched out his arms and flopped back onto a sun-warmed boulder near a crystal-clear pond nestled deep in the mountain woods.
"Good work," he said, voice light, happy. "Let's just relax here and have some lunch in the wild."
Jess, standing nearby with her fists on her hips, raised an eyebrow. She was still catching her breath from their brutal sparring session and very much not prepared for Peter to go all nature-boy on her.
"I was not expecting that."
Peter gave her a sideways grin—the type that always meant trouble was coming. "Me neither. It just sort of happened."
He paused. His smirk widened.
"Just like this is apparently happening."
"Wait—what do you mea—WHA—?!"
SPLASH!
Jess didn't even have time to scream properly before Peter scooped her into his arms like a scene straight out of a romance manga and leapt high into the air—then cannonballed them both straight into the pond.
The world became water and bubbles. Cold. Sudden. Cleansing.
Jess resurfaced a second later, sputtering and clinging to Peter's shoulder. Her wide-eyed shock melted quickly into loud, unfiltered laughter.
"You idiot!" she said between gasps, grinning ear to ear. "You could've at least let me take my boots off first!"
Peter, drenched and smug, shook his hair out like a wet dog. "And miss that face? No way."
She retaliated with a splash right to his eyes.
Peter blinked, then slowly wiped his face like a disappointed cat. "Oh, it's on now."
They splashed, wrestled, and drifted in the shallows for a while, letting the cold water wash away the bruises and grime from their sparring session. The forest around them was peaceful, the kind of peace that only comes after you've been punched in the stomach seventeen times and survived.
Jess eventually floated on her back, arms out like a starfish, eyes on the cloudless sky.
"Didn't know you were the camping type," she said.
Peter swam beside her, hands behind his head. "I'm not, really. I'm more of a 'stay-home-and-overthink-everything' type. But I did spend a month in the wild training, so… I picked up a few things."
Jess turned her head. "A month? Sounds like a pain."
Peter nodded solemnly. "It was a pain. No bed. No shampoo. No Wi-Fi. Just me, the bugs, and a lot of painful screaming."
Jess snorted. "So basically a budget survival show."
"Worse." He pointed to a tree stump with three neat slashes across it. "One time, I woke up with a bear using me as a body pillow."
She laughed harder. "What were you, Naruto Grylls?"
Peter gave her a sage nod. "Exactly. Except instead of drinking weird stuff, I was dodging lightning bolts and eating chakra-infused mushrooms that gave me the runs for two days straight."
Jess covered her mouth, cackling. "Okay, that's… disgusting. And kind of amazing."
Peter shrugged. "Nature and I have an understanding now. It tries to kill me, and I politely decline."
As the water stilled and their laughter quieted, the moment softened.
Jess floated closer. "You know… this is nice."
Peter looked at her. "Yeah. It is."
Not dramatic. Not world-ending. Just… two people, floating in a pond, sharing peace.
She bumped her shoulder against his. "Still gonna make you pay for the surprise dunk, though."
Peter grinned. "Bring it on. But after lunch. I'm starving."
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Jess sat on a mossy rock near the fire, arms wrapped around her knees, her boots drying nearby as the pond shimmered behind them. Her wet hair was starting to curl at the edges, and she looked half like a superhero, half like someone who'd just finished an accidental waterpark trip.
Peter, on the other hand, was deep in his wilderness expert arc.
"That's kinda cool," Jess said, watching as Peter tied some twine to a branch. "So… does that mean you can actually catch food and not just burn toast?"
Peter scoffed, wounded pride on full display. "Of course. Watch and learn."
And with that, he disappeared into the trees like a man on a mission—or someone who had just remembered there were bugs around and needed to escape before they made a home in his socks.
Jess waited, one eyebrow raised, already mentally preparing her "told-you-so" face. Then—
SPLASH!
She whipped her head toward the pond just in time to see Peter emerging like Poseidon's slightly less fashionable nephew, holding up two very flappy, very real fish.
"See?" he grinned, dripping wet and victorious. "Easy."
Jess clapped slowly, dramatically. "Oh wow, what a mighty hunter. Shall I fetch you a stone tablet to carve your victory into? Maybe some cave paintings?"
Peter shot her a dry look as he waded ashore, his pride too puffed up to be punctured. "Just admit it. You're impressed."
"I'm impressed you didn't fall in trying to catch those," she quipped.
Ignoring her sarcasm, Peter got to work. He set up a firepit using some stones, kindling, and the kind of Boy Scout skills that screamed I-was-trained-in-the-woods-by-a-ninja. Within minutes, he had a small fire roaring, and with surprising skill, he cleaned the fish, pulled out some spices from a pouch like a wizard of seasoning, and set the skewered fish to roast.
Jess's stomach growled loud enough to make a squirrel dart off nearby.
She slapped a hand over her belly. "So not fair. Why does that smell like it came out of a five-star restaurant?"
Peter smirked without looking up. "Because unlike you, I've done more than just order takeout."
Jess narrowed her eyes. "Bold of you to assume I eat takeout. Sometimes I make cereal."
"Ah yes, the pinnacle of fine dining," Peter said with mock admiration. "Truly, a master chef in your own right."
As the smell of grilled fish filled the air, Jess poked at the fire with a stick, watching the flames dance. The heat on her face, the soft crackle of wood, the crisp mountain air—it was… nice. Weirdly peaceful. Not exactly how she imagined a day off from superhero-ing, but far better than any rooftop brooding session.
"This is nice," she murmured. "Didn't think my first date would be in the middle of nowhere, but… it's actually pretty great."
Peter paused mid-flip of the fish, eyebrows rising. "First date, huh? So you admit it's a date?"
Realizing what she said, Jess rolled her eyes hard enough to power a small generator. "Shut up."
"I mean," Peter grinned, setting the fish to the side to cool, "I was gonna call it a survival exercise, but hey, if you wanna call it a date—"
Thunk!
A pebble bounced off his shoulder.
"Ow!" Peter rubbed the spot dramatically. "My fragile heart! You wound me."
"You'll live," Jess giggled, grabbing the fish he offered her.
They ate in companionable silence for a bit, broken only by the occasional crunch of crispy skin or Jess humming in appreciation.
"This is really good," she finally said.
Peter beamed. "Told you."
"Don't let it go to your head."
"Too late."
Jess sighed, letting the last of the food settle in her belly as she leaned back, hands behind her to balance.
"I could get used to this," she murmured.
Peter glanced at her.
"The fish, the fire, or me?"
She shot him a look, smirk forming. "Still deciding."