Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The first thing MJ noticed was the sharp pain. Like a horrible ache buried underneath everything. Her stomach, and her ribs, then her head, then her legs.  Then, everything felt heavy, like somebody had replaced every bone in her body with concrete.

Then she could hear the sounds. A steady, soft beeping, and somewhere nearby was air moving through a vent. She could hear footsteps behind the door, followed by voices, though she couldn’t make out,

Her eyelids felt glued together. She squeezed them tightly, then slowly peeled them open. A sliver of white appeared; it was far too bright. A tiny sound escaped her throat.  She swallowed, and her mouth felt disgustingly dry. Her throat burned. Where was she…?

MJ opened her eyes again and stared up at a white ceiling. Her brain felt like it was made of mud, and for a second nothing made sense. She blinked, still staring up at the white ceiling and fluorescent lights. She slowly realized she was in a hospital. But why would she be in a hospital?

She blinked again, then remembered Norman. The memory hit so hard her entire body jerked. Pain exploded through her abdomen. MJ gasped, the monitor beside her immediately began beeping faster. She remembered Norman and the Green Goblin. The fight, then the glider. She remembered Norman’s hand wrapped around Peter’s throat and dropping him. MJ’s eyes widened. Oh, God, Peter.

“Peter.” Her lips moved, but nothing more than air came out. She swallowed painfully. “Peter?” Her head moved around, looking around the room. She spotted an empty chair, then a window with white curtains, then a door. Her breathing quickened. No, no, no, no. Peter had been inside. Peter had been right there when the explosion happened; he could be anywhere right now, hurt or worse. She shoved herself upright, pain shooting through her stomach, making her wince as she dropped back against the mattress.

MJ grabbed the railing, attempting to pull herself back up. “Peter!”

Footsteps rushed toward her. The door opened. A nurse hurried inside. “Michelle? When did you wake up?”

“Where's Peter?”She ignored the nurse.

The nurse immediately moved toward her. “Don't move.”

“Where is he?”

“You need to lie still.”

“I am lying still! Where's Peter? He was with me; Peter Parker was.” Her voice cracked.

The nurse reached toward her shoulder before looking back at her. MJ sucked in a breath. Her hand flew toward her abdomen. The nurse caught her wrist before she could touch the dressing beneath her gown. “Don't touch that.”

“Where is Peter!?” 

She could barely connect her own memories. She remembered catching Peter, the Oscorp, then Peter messing with Norman’s glider right before the explosion. Nothing after that, making her chest tighten and her breathing pick up. “Is he alive?”

“Yes.” The nurse confirmed, looking directly at her.

Everything inside her collapsed. Her head dropped back against the pillow, and a sob escaped her. “Oh, my God.” Tears filled her eyes. “Are you sure?”

The nurse nodded again. “Yes, he’s here.”

“Here? You mean at the hospital?” MJ's relief immediately twisted into worry. “Wait, why?”

“He was injured. But it was nothing life-threatening.”

MJ's eyes narrowed. “That wasn't what I asked.”

The nurse seemed to realize very quickly that vague answers weren't going to work. “I’m sorry, but I cannot disclose his medical information. I’ll go tell him and his family that you’re awake. They were worried about you as well.”

Her stomach twisted violently as her mind flashed to her mother. The second Maddie's face tried forcing itself into MJ's head, she shoved it back down. Peter. Focus on Peter. Peter was alive, and Peter was here. That was enough. The nurse turned toward the door. “Wait!” She called out, making the nurse's head turn. “How long was I out?”

The nurse's expression softened. “About three days.”

MJ stared at her, the words not registering in her brain right away. “Three…”” Her voice was hoarse. “Three days?”

The nurse nodded before she left the room. MJ slowly looked down at the window, daylight spilling through the partially closed blinds. She still hadn’t fully processed the fact she’d been asleep for three days. That was three whole days since her fight with Norman and Oscorp, and three days since her mother-

Her throat tightened; she didn’t want to think about that right now. Her mind tried anyway, her memory flashing the blood and dust, her mother’s hand in hers.  MJ squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears. She told herself to think about Peter, he was alive, and he was here.  It didn’t fix anything that had happened. It didn’t magically undo what happened to Norman or her mom, and it didn’t erase the hurt from the last several days of her memory. But it provided a small sense of comfort.

MJ opened her eyes again and stared at the ceiling. She had lost three entire days. Her gaze slowly dropped toward herself. She was wearing a hospital gown. There was an IV taped into the crook of her arm, another line attached to the back of her hand. A pulse oximeter squeezed one finger. Something wrapped tightly around her abdomen beneath the gown, and when she shifted even slightly, pain radiated through her side. MJ winced, realizing her legs also felt strange, just heavy but not numb.

MJ released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Then she heard voices outside, making her head turn. The voices were followed by several pairs of footsteps, one faster than the others. She watched as the door opened. First, a nurse entered, then right behind her was Peter.

“MJ?" His voice was small, and everything around her seemed to disappear.

Peter, objectively, looked like shit. His brown curls were sticking in several different directions like he had spent the last three days dragging his hand through them, then forgetting to brush. There was a bandage stretched across part of his forehead, and a dark bruise on his cheek. There were several small cuts and smaller bruises littering his face and arms as well. Both palms of his hands were wrapped in bandages, and there was a thick brace around one of his ankles. He had his glasses back, shielding his brown doe eyes behind them.

MJ watched the rise and fall of his chest, he was breathing heavily. MJ’s eyes filled instantly. “Peter?”

Peter’s entire face crumpled, letting tears fall free from his eyes. He took off his glasses oh, rubbing his eyes vigorously. “Hi.”

Behind him, May appeared. She covered her mouth with her hand as she made a wincing sound. “Oh, thank god!” She pushed past Peter and ran toward her.

MJ barely had time to look at her before May reached the bed and stopped herself at the last second, hands hovering awkwardly because she clearly wanted to hug MJ but had absolutely no idea where she could touch her without hurting her. “Oh, then the lord, you're awake.”

MJ swallowed. “Yeah.”

May carefully touched her hair. “Oh, sweetheart, we were so worried!” Her eyes were puffy and red, like she had been crying. “You scared the absolute hell out of us.”

MJ’s throat tightened. “Oh, sorry.”

May shook her head. “No, no apologizing.”

Ben appeared on the other side of her, his expression more controlled than his wife's. He formed a soft smile, his eyes red. “Hey, kid.”

MJ managed a tiny smile. “Hey.”

Ben reached out and squeezed her shoulder, carefully avoiding every wire and tube attached to her. “You gave us a pretty good scare. But it’s good to see you.”

She nodded. “Yeah, you too.”

Her eyes drifted back toward Peter. He still hadn't moved from the doorway. He was standing there like he wasn't completely convinced she was actually awake yet. His glasses were clutched in one hand, the other hanging awkwardly at his side. His eyes were red, his cheeks still damp.

MJ stared back at him. “You look terrible.”

A watery laugh escaped Peter. “You look worse.”

“Wow.”

“I-I didn't mean-” His eyes widened. “I mean, obviously, you look- you look good. Considering. Not good, like good good, because you're in a hospital and you almost died, and that would be a really weird thing to say right now-“

“Peter.” She breathed out.

He stopped, looking up at her. MJ smiled weakly. “You still look terrible.”

Peter laughed again, and that sound broke something inside of her. Her smile disappeared, her bottom lip trembling. Peter noticed instantly, crossing the room without another word. May stepped out of the way, and Peter stopped beside the bed. He looked down at MJ like he wanted to touch her but had the exact same problem May had. There wasn't much of her that wasn't bruised, bandaged, stitched, or connected to something. Eventually, he cupped his palms around her cheeks as gently as he could.

MJ lifted her head, leaning into Peter’s gentle grip around her head. His palms were bandaged, so their fingers couldn't quite lace together properly, but MJ didn't care. She squeezed anyway, and Peter squeezed back. “I thought you died,” MJ whispered. She watched as Peter’s face fell before she continued. “The explosion.” Her eyes dropped toward their hands. “I couldn't remember what happened after it. I remembered you messing with the glider and then…Nothing.”

Peter shook his head quickly. “I'm okay.”

“You're in a hospital.”

Peter smiled weakly. ”So are you.”

MJ looked over him again, her eyes catching the bandages, the brace, and all the bruises and cuts littered across his body.

Her stomach twisted, her grip tightened. “What happened?”

Peter glanced toward May. May's expression immediately changed. “Oh.” She looked at Ben. “You know what? I suddenly remembered something.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”

“Yes.”

“What?” May stared at him. Ben stared back.

“Coffee,” May finally said. “Let’s get some coffee for everyone. I think we all needed it, right?”

Ben slowly nodded. “Oh, yes.”

MJ narrowed her eyes. May leaned down and pressed the gentlest possible kiss against the top of MJ's head. “We're going to get coffee. You want anything?”

MJ nodded. “Sure, just black is fine.”

May leaned back. “We'll be back.”

Ben gave Peter a look MJ couldn't quite decipher, then squeezed Peter's shoulder on his way past. “Don't do anything stupid.”Ben paused at the doorway, waiting for May to catch up before she followed him out, and the door clicked shut behind them.

The room suddenly felt much quieter. There was still the monitor beside MJ, continuing its steady beeping. The air conditioning hummed. Somewhere in the hallway, a cart squeaked past the door. But it was a different type of silence, like there was something both of them knew they wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. MJ looked at Peter, and Peter found her gaze; neither of them spoke. Peter finally dragged a chair closer with his other foot, and carefully lowered himself into it. His face tightened when his bad ankle moved.

MJ frowned. “What happened to your ankle?”

“Oh, it’s sprained.”

“Okay, what about your head?”

His fingers touched where the bandages wrapped around his forehead. “Oh, I got cut in the explosion. The doctors put in my stitches, but honestly it looks worse than it is.”

Her eyes dropped toward his hands. “And those?”

Peter hesitated. “I git cut up pretty good on some broke glass when I was tryin’ get you out.” MJ tore herself from Peter’s grip and looked away, almost shamefully, making Peter frown. “MJ, I’m fine, I promise.”

“You're not fine.” She stared at the window, her fingers curling around the bedsheets loosely. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke again. Then, MJ asked the question she had been avoiding. “Where’s Norman?’

Peter went completely still as MJ looked back at him. His eyes dropped. “He, uh, he didn’t make it.”

Something hollow opened inside her chest. Maybe it wasn’t conscious, but some part of her had known from the second Peter didn't immediately answer. Still, hearing it was different. “Oh.”

Peter watched her carefully as she looked down at the bedsheets. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say. She had wanted Norman dead; she wanted to kill him. She remembered standing in the wreckage of her apartment building with dust clogging her lungs, and her mother’s hand in hers. She remembered holding her mother’s hand as she died, and she remembered the horrible, unbearable rage that had filled every inch of her body afterward. She wanted to hurt Norman, and make him feel everything he’d made her feel and worse. She had wanted to find him and rip him apart with her bare hands.

And now, he was dead. Why didn’t she feel better? MJ swallowed. “How?”

Peter shifted in his chair. “It was the explosion.”

Her head snapped toward him. “The glider?” Peter hesitated before leaning forward. “He was already hurt pretty bad before that.”

MJ remembered that, seeing Norman on the floor, blood staining his armor. She remembered Norman's face, not the Goblin’s grotesque mask, just Norman. For those few seconds, he’d looked like the man she’d known before any of this happened. Terrified and confused, almost horrified by what he’d done.

MJ stared at the blanket covering her legs. “Was he Norman? You know, at the end,” she clarified. “Was he…him?”

Peter's expression softened. “Honestly? I’m not sure. MJ, they found something in his autopsy.”

MJ’s brows furrowed. “What?”

Peter hesitated. “I overheard the doctors talking about it earlier. Apparently there was some kind of chemical enhancer in Norman's bloodstream. They don't know exactly what it was yet, but there was a lot of it.”

MJ stared at him. “What kind of enhancer?”

“I don't know. They don't know either. Not yet.” Peter shook his head. “But they think it could've been affecting his brain somehow. His behavior, his aggression, maybe even his judgment. They’re still running tests.”

MJ felt strangely cold. For a second, she couldn't say anything. Her mind immediately went backward, sorting through every interaction she'd had with Norman. The way he'd seemed almost normal when they first met. Charming, even. Patient. He'd listened when she talked about the suit, asked questions about her powers, treated her like she actually knew what she was doing instead of some stupid kid playing superhero. But during her fights with him, she saw something different. Sure, he was still composed, but something was just off.

MJ frowned. “So what?” she asked quietly. “The drugs made him do it?”

“No,” Peter answered immediately. “That's not what I'm saying.” Peter shifted closer. “We don't know what it did to him. Maybe it changed the way he was thinking, or maybe it didn’t. I don't know.” His expression softened. “But if something was messing with his head, how were you supposed to figure that out? It doesn’t change what he did”

“No. It couldn’t.” She lowered her head.

Whatever had been in Norman's blood hadn't brought her mother back. It hadn't rebuilt their apartment. It hadn't erased the memory of Norman's hand wrapped around Peter's throat. Therefore, it changed nothing about how she felt, because all it meant was that the Norman who had encouraged her and the Goblin who'd destroyed her life weren't as completely separate as she wanted them to be. All because Norman’s military investor buddies had money that Norman wanted.

“What about his son?” MJ brought herself to ask, her voice hoarse.

Peter sighed. “Last I heard, Harry and Mrs. Osborn were going on a trip to Europe.” He answered.

MJ's throat tightened. “Do you think he knew what happened?”

“I think so.” Her eyes burned.

She immediately looked away. That pissed her off; crying pissed her off. Because why the hell was she crying for him and his family? Norman Osborn killed her mother and destroyed her home, and he’d nearly killed Peter. He had spent months lying to her, manipulating her, and using her as some kind of experiment without her even realizing it. She hated him. Didn’t she?

MJ roughly wiped underneath her eye. “Shit.”

Peter frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“MJ, are you okay?”

“I said nothing.”

“You're crying.”

“Great observation.” She spat back. Peter fell silent, watching her rub her eyes. “This is so stupid.”

Peter shook his head. “No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is! He killed my mom!” Peter stopped, his face going pale as MJ continued. “He killed her. I watched her die because of him.” Her voice sounded strangely flat now. MJ's heart started pounding harder. The monitor beside her betrayed her immediately, beeping faster. “I wanted him dead,” she repeated, quieter this time. “After my mom, I wanted him dead so badly.”

Peter's expression didn't change. He didn't look scared of her or disgusted. That almost made it worse. “I was going to kill him.” She remembered all the pent-up rage and grief. She remembered how badly she'd wanted to bring it down. “I would've done it too.”

“I know… but you didn’t,” Peter responded.

MJ’s eyes filled again. “I wanted to kill him, Peter.”

“I know.”

“And now he's dead.” Peter nodded. “And I don't…” Her voice cracked. She stopped. Peter waited as MJ pressed her lips together, desperately trying to keep herself under control. “I don't feel better. I thought I would, but I don’t. I thought if he was gone, maybe I'd feel…” She searched helplessly for the word. “Something. Like it was fair, or finished, or…”

“Better?”

MJ nodded. “But I don’t. I still miss her.” Peter remained silent as MJ continued. “And now he's dead too, and somehow that hurts, and I don't understand why because I hated him.” 

Peter stayed quiet for a moment. MJ almost wished he wouldn't. She wanted him to agree with her. She wanted him to tell her that it didn't make any sense, that she was being stupid, that she shouldn't waste a single tear on Norman Osborn.

“You can hate him and still be sad he's dead.”

MJ's jaw tightened. “That doesn't make any sense.”

“It doesn't have to.” Peter shrugged. “The Norman we knew before all this,” Peter continued. “The guy you trusted. That's not the same as forgiving what he did.”

MJ stared down at her hands, and maybe that was part of it. She’d trusted Norman, and before the Goblin, Norman had been one of the only adults who had taken Spinneret seriously. He'd helped her. Encouraged her. Given her access to equipment she could've never afforded herself. And then he destroyed everything.

“I should’ve known.” She whispered.

Peter frowned. “Known what?”

“About him.”

“How?”

“I don't know. Something. I should've noticed something was wrong. I worked with him, Peter. I was around him all the time.”

“So were hundreds of other people.”

“It doesn’t matter, I should’ve known! I should’ve stopped him sooner!”

“You did stop him.”

“After he killed my mom.” Peter went quiet. She let out a breath. ”After he destroyed my apartment. After he hurt you. After he hurt God knows how many other people.”

“And how many people are alive because you stopped him?” MJ looked back at him. Peter's eyes were fixed on hers. “You saved people, MJ.”

“Not everyone.”

“No.” His voice cracked slightly. “Not everyone.” That shut her up. Peter leaned forward, elbows against his knees. “But you saved me.”

Her chest tightened. “You saved me more than once, actually. You saved people at the bank. You stopped Vulture. You stopped Shocker. You stopped Scorpion. You kept getting back up every single time somebody knocked you down.” Peter shook his head. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

MJ's eyes burned. “I could've done more.”

“You always think you could've done more.”

“Because I could've.”

“No.” Peter sat forward. “Because apparently you think being Spinneret means you're supposed to be able to save literally everybody.” MJ looked away. “You can't,” Peter stressed.

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

She glared at him. Peter didn't back down. “You saved people's lives, MJ. You saved my life.”

Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten. He wasn’t saying it as if she owed him something, just that it was a fact that she had saved him. And because of that, Peter was sitting here because she caught him, and because she’d refuse to let Norman take him away from her. MJ looked at the bandage across his forehead. The bruising along his cheek. The cuts on his arms. Her gaze dropped toward his chest, watching the rise and fall. Peter was alive.

Suddenly she remembered Norman's hand around his throat. Then him being thrown aside and his body falling through the air. And for a horrible moment, MJ genuinely believed she was watching him die. Something twisted violently inside her.

She reached for him suddenly, and Peter barely had time to react before MJ wrapped her arms around him. “Whoa-“ He winced. She pulled him against her. Pain immediately protested from her abdomen, but she ignored it.

“Whoa, MJ, careful-“

“Shut up.” Peter shut up. MJ buried her face against his shoulder.

He froze for half a second before carefully wrapping his arms around her, clearly terrified of squeezing too hard, and MJ held him tighter. She could feel him breathing in her grip, hearing his heart beating against his chest. God, she needed that. That realization scared her almost as much as losing him had, because somewhere along the way, Peter Parker had stopped being some annoying kid from school who wouldn't stop talking to her. He was Peter, and she needed him.

Not in some dramatic, pathetic, I can't survive without you kind of way. She could survive; she had survived plenty. But she didn't want a life where surviving was all she did. “I really thought he killed you,” she whispered.

Peter's arms tightened slightly. “He didn't.”

“I know.” Her eyes squeezed shut.

Peter rested his cheek lightly against her hair. And they stayed that way for several seconds before MJ finally pulled away, but Peter didn’t move very far. His hands remained loosely around her arms, like he was waiting to make sure she was steady before letting go.

MJ sniffed and wiped underneath her eyes. “Mom said something to me.” Peter's expression softened immediately. “Before she died.”

His hands dropped slowly as MJ stared at the blanket. “She told me that having power means having a responsibility to use it.” She swallowed around the lump forming in her throat. “That if I can do something to help people, then I have a responsibility to do it.” Peter was quiet. MJ rubbed her thumb over the edge of the blanket. “And then she died anyway. So what if I wasn’t responsible enough?”

“You were.”

“I almost killed Norman.”

“But you didn't.”

“I couldn't save her.”

“That doesn't mean you failed her.” MJ's jaw tightened as Peter leaned forward. “Your mom wasn't telling you that you're responsible for everything bad that happens. She was telling you to do something good with what you have.” He paused. “And you do.”

“Sometimes.” She shrugged.

“All the time.”

“That's not true!”

MJ pulled back slightly, shaking her head. "My mom said something to me before she died.” Peter’s expression changed immediately. MJ looked down at the blanket. “She said that having great power means having a great responsibility.”

The words felt different saying them now, somehow heavier. She could still hear her mom’s voice, could still feel her hand getting colder inside hers. She swallowed. “I keep thinking about it, because she knew.” MJ's voice dropped. “About me. About Spinneret. And she still…” Her throat tightened, but she forced herself through it. “She still believed I could do something good with this. Even after everything it did to us.”

Peter reached for her hand again. MJ let him take it. “What if I didn’t do enough? She died because somebody wanted to hurt me.”

“Norman’s the one who did it, not you.”

“But it’s because of me. He attacked the building because he knew I lived there and he knew he could get to me.”

“That's still his fault.”

“If I wasn't Spinneret-”

“Then Norman still would've been Goblin.” MJ stopped. Peter leaned closer. “He still would've been hurting people. Oscorp still would've been making those weapons. Vulture still would've had them. Shocker still would've had them. Scorpion still would've had them.” His fingers tightened carefully around hers. You didn't create any of this. You’re the one who kept showing up and stopping it.”

MJ looked away. Peter sighed. “I don't think your mom meant responsibility means punishing yourself every time you can't save somebody.” That made her eyes snap back toward him, making Peter hesitate slightly. “I didn't know her as well as you did, obviously. So maybe I'm completely wrong.”

She stared down at their hands. Maybe Peter was right; her mother hadn’t spent her last moments blaming her. Maybe she’d done the opposite, and tried to remind MJ why she'd put on the mask in the first place. MJ's gaze slowly lifted to Peter. She’d save him, and now suddenly, she couldn't stop looking at him.

Peter noticed. “What?”

MJ shook her head. “Nothing.”

“You're staring at me.”

MJ smiled softly. “I just… thanks, Peter. I think I needed to hear that.”

Peter gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Anytime.”

MJ smiled weakly. “Careful. I might actually take you up on that.” She looked at him, and there wasn’t any hesitation in his face.

Something tightened in her throat again, and MJ quickly looked toward the window before she started crying for what felt like the thousandth time since waking up. Outside, everything looked offensively normal. Blue skies and tall buildings, there were cars moving along the street several floors below. But her world had drastically changed. Her mom was dead; her dad was who knows where. Norman was dead. Her apartment was gone. But, somehow, down there, people were probably going to work and complaining about traffic and deciding what they wanted for lunch. Their lives were unchanged while MJ’s life wasn’t, and some small part of her resented that.

Eventually, a nurse poked her head through the doorway, effectively ending whatever conversation they might've had next. “Michelle, you really should get some rest. Your body is still recovering from major surgery.

MJ frowned. But Peter smiled, and MJ caught the disappointment that flashed across his face as he started pushing himself out of the chair. And, embarrassingly, she felt it too; she was pretty tired. But she also didn’t really want him to leave.

Peter adjusted the brace around his ankle before looking at her. “I’ll let you sleep.”

MJ nodded, then hesitated. “You'll come back?” The question escaped before she could stop it.

Peter paused, something in his expression softened. “Yeah. Of course.” He said.

MJ looked down, suddenly very interested in the blanket. “Okay. Just checking.”

“I’ll be back. Just try and get some rest.” He squeezed her hand one last time before reluctantly letting go. The loss of contact felt strangely noticeable.

Peter limped toward the door and disappeared into the hallway. The door clicked softly shut behind him. For the first time since waking up, MJ let herself sink completely into the pillows. Everything still hurt. Her mom was still gone. Norman was still dead. There were a thousand things waiting for her whenever she finally left this room. But Peter was alive, and right now that’s all that mattered. And with that thought, MJ closed her eyes

────𒌐──── 

MJ actually managed to sleep for a few hours. Not well. Her dreams were disjointed flashes of dust and fire, her mother's voice mixing with Norman's, but exhaustion and whatever medication the nurses kept pumping into her system eventually won. By the time she woke again, the sunlight outside had faded into a hazy orange, and the hospital room was dimmer.

She'd only been awake for maybe ten minutes when there was a soft knock against the door. MJ turned her head.

Peter poked his head inside. “Hey.”

Something inside her immediately loosened. He'd changed out of the clothes he'd been wearing earlier, now dressed in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, but the bandage around his forehead and brace around his ankle remained. His curls looked slightly less disastrous, though not by much. MJ couldn’t help but smile. “You came back.”

Peter raised an eyebrow as he limped inside. “I said I would.”

He dragged the chair back toward her bedside and carefully lowered himself into it, stretching his injured ankle out in front of him. For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. MJ looked at him, and Peter looked back. Then Peter seemed to notice something in her expression.

Peter seemed to notice her distress. “You don't have to be okay, you know.”

MJ swallowed. “I'm aware.”

“I mean, with me.” Her eyes moved back toward him. “You don't have to pretend.”

She gave a try laugh. “That’s kind of funny, coming from you.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head.

“No, what?” She shook her head. But Peter kept looking at her. She sighed, finally giving in. “I’m just not really sure how to do… this.”

“Do what?”

She gestured vaguely between them. “You know, this.”

“Talking?”

“Don't be annoying. I just mean talk about…” he waved her hand again. “Feelings.”

“Oh.” Peter’s face dropped, averting his gaze away from hers, his face turning red.

MJ sighed, feeling her own cheeks begin to heat up, turning a hint of pink. “I just have never really had much luck when it comes to getting close to people, you know?” She shrugged. “So, I’m just kinda new to this whole thing… God, this was easier before.”

Peter's brow furrowed. “Before what?”

“Before you knew.” It took him a second. Then his eyes widened slightly. “Oh.”

“When I was just Spinneret.” She nodded.

Peter settled back in his chair as MJ rubbed her thumb across his knuckles. “It was easier talking to you with the mask on.”

“Really?”

“Way easier.”

“I feel like I should be offended.”

“You probably should. But I didn't know it was different.” MJ smiled faintly.

“How?”

She hesitated. Because saying it out loud made it sound ridiculous. But she'd already cried in front of him, admitted she'd almost killed someone, told him how terrified she'd been of losing him, and practically climbed into his arms five minutes ago. Her dignity was already running low.

“I could hide. You wouldn’t see me, but I could see you.”  Peter’s teasing expression disappeared as MJ continued. “You couldn't see my face. You couldn't see if I was nervous or embarrassed or…” She shrugged. “Whatever. And if you didn’t like me, it didn’t matter.”

Peter frowned, his eyebrows pulled together. “Why wouldn’t it matter?”

“Because you didn't know me. You knew Spinneret, and she could show up, make some stupid joke, talk to you for an hour and leave. And if you thought Spinneret was weird, whatever. If you thought she was annoying, whatever. If she said something stupid…” MJ shrugged. “I could jump off a building and not see you again until I decided I wanted to.”

Peter's mouth twitched. “That's a very normal way to handle social anxiety.”

She nudged his knee weakly, making him smile. “But Michelle- or I guess me- I am different. We see each other at school every morning, and we’d sit three seats away in chemistry.”

Peter nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“And you actually know me.”

Peter shrugged. “I knew you before.”

“No, you knew Spinneret.”

“Yeah, but I knew Spinneret before I knew you. Besides, you’re the same person.”

She shook her head. “Not exactly.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s just not.”

“That’s a really convincing argument.”

“Shut up.” Peter smiled, and MJ just rolled her eyes. MJ smiled faintly.

Peter's expression had softened. “I don't think you were as different as you think.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Peter shrugged. “Really. You were still sarcastic, and made fun of my constantly-“

“You made it easy.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “You still acted like you didn't care about anything when you obviously cared about everything.” MJ's smile faded slightly. Peter continued before she could argue. “And you still did that thing where you'd get really quiet whenever something was actually bothering you.”

“Shut up.” MJ looked toward the window.

Peter laughed, and MJ couldn't help smiling again. “I just mean…” His smile softened. “I knew more about you than you think.” MJ looked back at him, making Peter’s face go red. “Not like in a weird way! I-I knew you hated hospitals.”

“You knew that because I complained about them constantly.”

“Exactly, I listened! I knew you liked coffee but hated anything sweet in it. I knew you got really quiet when you were tired. I knew you liked sitting on rooftops after patrol instead of going straight home. I knew you always said you were fine when you obviously weren't. And whenever you disappeared for a couple of days, you'd come back and act as if nothing happened.”

Her brow furrowed. “You noticed when I disappeared?”

Peter stopped. MJ watched his face. “Yeah.”

Something about the way he said it made her stomach twist. Peter suddenly became very interested in the loose thread hanging from the sleeve of his hoodie. “I mean, obviously I noticed. Because we'd talk and stuff, and then sometimes you wouldn't show up for a while, so…”

“So?” She pressed.

“So I'd wonder where you were. And if something happened on the news, I'd wonder if you were there. Or if there were sirens nearby, I'd… Look for you.” Peter trailed off.

MJ blinked. Peter's entire face was turning red now. “You'd look for me?”

“Not like-” His eyes widened. “Not look for you. I wasn't following you around New York or anything. That sounds really creepy. I just meant I'd look to see if you were there.”

“Why?” MJ asked, her brows furrowing together.

Peter bit his bottom lip, scratching nervously at the side of his neck. “I liked seeing you…”

MJ’s eyes widened slightly, her cheeks heating up. Peter's eyes dropped toward the floor. “I liked talking to you,” he added quickly. “You were funny, and you listened to me ramble about stuff, which most people don’t, but you listened and remembered things.” He shrugged. “Sure, you’d make fun of me, but then like three weeks later I'd mention something, and you'd remember exactly what I was talking about. And I just found I really enjoyed talking to you, more than most other people.” Then his smile slowly faded.

“And eventually I just…” He stopped.

MJ waited, watching Peter swallow a lump in his throat. “I don't know.”

“Don't know what?”

“When it happened.”

Her brow furrowed, feeling more confused than she did a few minutes ago. “When what happened?”

Peter looked at her. Then immediately looked away; Peter’s ears were practically red now.

Oh

Oh

MJ’s eyes widened slightly. “No way. You had a crush on Spinneret.”

Peter's head snapped up. “I didn't say that.” He stammered over his words

“You didn't have to.”

“I was getting there!”

“So you did.”

“I-“ Peter groaned and dropped his face into his hands. Despite everything, a laugh escaped her. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe this is happening.”

MJ smiled. She hadn't expected that to feel so good. It was stupid. Completely stupid. But something warm had started spreading through her chest anyway. “How long?”

“I'm not answering that. I'd like to retain whatever dignity I have left.”

“Seriously.” Peter peeked through his fingers. MJ was still looking at him.

Eventually, he sighed and lowered his hands. “I don't know exactly.”

“But you liked her.”

Peter gave her a look. MJ waited. Finally, Peter nodded. “Yeah.”

That shouldn’t have affected her as much as it did. Something warm settled inside her chest, and luckily it had nothing to do with the medication. Peter liked Spinneret, or at least he was starting to. MJ looked down at their hands again, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that she was still holding his. She could let go. There was absolutely nothing stopping her from pulling her hand away, but she didn’t. Instead, her thumb moved absentmindedly across his knuckles.

The worst part was, if she was being honest with herself. Peter’s confessions weren’t exactly one-sided. MJ had spent months finding excuses to see him. At first, they had been legitimate excuses. Peter had gotten himself tangled up in the whole Oscorp mess, and she'd needed to check on him. Then he'd started helping her with things. Then somehow hanging out with Peter became something she did even when there wasn't anything to check on. School. Ned. Some movie Peter had seen. Something May had done. Whatever insane science project Peter was working on that week. Peter would start explaining something with that excited look on his face, hands moving as he talked, and MJ would pretend she wasn't interested. But she always stayed, and always listened.

MJ glanced at him. Peter was still looking anywhere except at her. It was kind of adorable.

Oh, God. Her stomach flipped. Adorable? Since when did she think Peter Parker was adorable?

Honestly, maybe this was something she felt even before Oscop, and MJ immediately answered her own question. Probably longer than she wanted to admit.

The feeling she'd gotten when Peter smiled at her. Neither was the weird little spark whenever he made her laugh when she was trying desperately not to. Neither was the way she'd started automatically looking for him at school. Or the fact that she'd learned the sound of his laugh from across a room. Or how she'd started noticing stupid things. The way he pushed his glasses up when they slipped down his nose. The way his curls got completely out of control when it rained. How his voice got higher when he was nervous and somehow even faster when he was excited. She knew his coffee order. She knew which classes he hated. She knew he called May when he was going to be more than fifteen minutes late because otherwise she'd worry. She knew when something was bothering him even when he insisted it wasn't.

Shit. She liked Peter.

The realization wasn't dramatic. There weren't fireworks or some magical shift where suddenly everything made sense. It was worse than that, because it felt obvious. Like she'd walked into a room, spent twenty minutes looking for something, then realized it had been sitting directly in front of her the entire time.

Of course she liked him. Why else had seeing Norman’s hand around his throat made something inside her completely snap? Why had Peter been the person she'd wanted after everything with her mom, or even now, when she felt it was easier for her to close her eyes after he promised he’d come back, then she'd been so ridiculously happy when he'd actually walked through that door? The explanation was embarrassingly simple. That somewhere along the way, Peter had become her person, and MJ hadn't even noticed it happening.

Or maybe she had noticed and had been good at pretending she hadn’t.

“MJ?” Peter’s voice cut through her thoughts,

She blinked. What?”

“You've been staring at me for, like, thirty seconds.”

MJ looked away. “Don't flatter yourself.”

Peter's mouth twitched. “Okay. Sorry.”

She could feel him watching her. MJ's cheeks heated. This was terrible, because before tonight, she could've ignored it. She could've shoved everything into the convenient little box labeled Peter is her friend and never looked inside. But now Peter had gone and ruined that by admitting he'd been developing feelings for Spinneret. And suddenly MJ wanted to know something. Except, taking meant opening a door she wasn’t entirely sure she could close again.

Her fingers tightened slightly around his. Peter looked down at their hands, then back at her.

MJ swallowed. “So…” Peter waited, making her immediately lose her nerve. “Never mind.”

Peter looked down at his lap, almost shamefully. He pulled his hand away from hers, resting it in his lap. She looked up at him with her eyes slightly widened.

Peter sighed. “I’m sorry, I made it weird, didn’t I?”

MJ’s stomach dropped. “What, no!”

“I did.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “I shouldn't have said anything. You're dealing with all this stuff, and your mom, and Norman, and you're literally in the hospital, and I decide now is apparently a great time to tell you I had a crush on you-“

“Peter.” She tried to interrupt him, but he clearly wasn’t listening.

“-which is probably the worst timing imaginable, actually, and I wasn't trying to make you feel like you had to say anything back-“

She sighed, “Peter.”

“-Because you don't. Seriously. You don't have to-“

“Peter!” He stopped. MJ stared at him. His entire face was red now, extending all the way to the tips of his ears. “I don't care that you told me.”

Peter blind. “You don’t?”

“I mean…” She shifted against the pillows. “It's weird.” His face fell again. “Not bad weird!” MJ rubbed a hand across her face. This was horrible, she'd fought armed criminals with less anxiety than this. “What I mean is…” She dropped her hand. “You didn't make it weird. Okay, maybe you made it a little weird. But only because you're making it weird now.”

God, how many times was she going to say ‘weird’?

“How am I making it weird?” Peter asked.

“You're doing that thing. Where you just ramble on and on.” Peter's mouth opened, probably to argue, before apparently realizing she'd gotten him there. He closed it again. MJ sighed. “I don't care that you told me, Peter.”

“Okay.” He nodded quickly.

Silence, beside the monitor beside her that continued its steady beeping. Peter rubbed his palms against his sweatpants. “So… Are we okay?”

MJ hesitated for a moment. “We're okay.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded

Another long stretch of silence followed. God, this was painful. MJ stared down at the blanket. There was still one question sitting in the back of her head. The question she'd almost asked before Peter panicked and ripped his hand away. She could leave it alone. She probably should leave it alone.

Instead, she found herself working up the courage and asking. “Do you?”

Peter blinked. “Do I what?”

MJ immediately hated herself. She stared at him, and he started back. MJ briefly considered pretending to fall asleep. “Do you…” She swallowed. “Feel different? Now that you know it’s me?”

Peter went still. MJ's heart started pounding hard enough that she was suddenly very aware of the monitor sitting beside her. If that thing started ratting her out, she was going to rip it from the wall. She took in a deep breath. “Sorry, I just- I don’t know, you said you were starting to like Spinneret.”

Peter's cheeks turned pink again. “Yeah.”

“But that was before. I’m just saying, I wouldn’t blame you if you felt different now.” Peter frowned, and MJ forced herself to continue. “You knew Spinneret when she was…” She shrugged. “Spinneret. You didn't know who she was underneath all that. You also didn't know about my parents, or about my mom and me, or my dad, or any of that. You hadn’t seen me crying in a hospital bed. You hadn't seen…” She gestured vaguely toward herself. “All of this. So I was just wondering if it’s different now.”

He was quiet for long enough that MJ's stomach twisted. She immediately regretted asking. “Never mind. Seriously, forget it.”

“MJ, I-“

“I shouldn’t have-“

“I don’t!” Peter answered abruptly, shining a light on his chair. “I don't feel different.”

MJ started at him. “You don’t?”

Peter shook his head. Something inside her chest fluttered. Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, obviously things are different. Because finding out the superhero you've been talking to for months is also the girl who sits three seats away from you in chemistry is kind of…”

“Traumatizing?”

“I was going to say surprising. But like I told you the other night. It doesn’t change how I felt about you. If anything, it just made a bunch of stuff make sense.”

MJ's brow furrowed. “Like what?”

Peter shrugged, suddenly looking embarrassed again. “You.”

“Very specific.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his mouth. “I don't know. Just little things. Like why you both had the same really specific sense of humor.” Peter's expression softened. “But I mean… it wasn't like finding out you were Spinneret suddenly replaced the person I knew with somebody completely different. It was more like finding out there was this whole other part of you I didn't know about yet. And Spinneret wasn't some perfect version of you either, MJ.” Peter shifted slightly in his chair. “You know that, right?”

MJ stared at him before shrugging slightly. His voice softened. “I didn't only see you when you were doing cool superhero stuff. I saw you when you were annoyed. Or tired. Or hurt. Or when you were having a bad night and didn't want to tell me why. But you were still you.”

MJ looked down at the blanket, making Peter hesitate before continuing. “The mask didn't make me like you. You did.”

MJ's eyes snapped toward him.

Peter immediately seemed to realize how that sounded, his entire face turning red. “Shit, I-I mean-“

MJ's mouth twitched. “No. Don't.”

“What?”

“Don't ruin it. You were about to start rambling again.” Peter shut his mouth. His cheeks remained bright red, but after a moment, he smiled. MJ sighed. “Thank you.”

MJ looked down again. She could still feel that stupid warmth spreading through her chest. “So seeing all this doesn't…”

“All what?”

MJ sighed. “This. My family being a disaster. Me being a disaster. Everything with Norman.” Her voice dropped. Doesn't any of that change anything?”

Peter didn’t answer immediately. Not because he was hesitating. If anything, he looked confused by the question. “No. Why would it?”

MJ stared at him. Peter stared back, apparently completely serious. She let out a quiet breath. “I don't know.”

“Well, I don't.”

“Okay.”

Another moment of silence settled between them. Except this felt different. MJ could hear the steady beep of the monitor beside her. She could hear voices passing somewhere outside the room and the faint squeak of shoes against the hospital floor. But Peter was still sitting beside her, and he was still looking at her the same way. And somehow that made what she needed to say next significantly harder.

MJ picked at the edge of the blanket.

“I like you too.” It came out bluntly.

Peter blinked. “What?”

What she said caught up to her before she had time to fully process. “Don't make me say it again.”

“No! No, you definitely don't have to. I heard you. I-“ His eyes widened. “I mean, yeah, I heard you, I just-” His train of thought stopped in real time. And Peter just stared at her.

She could practically feel his smile forming. MJ finally looked at him. Sure enough, Peter was grinning. Not smugly. Somehow that would've been easier to deal with. He just looked ridiculously, genuinely happy, and that made her stomach flip all over again.

She chuckled. “God, you’re annoying.”

“But you like me.” Peter's smile only widened. MJ rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the smile pulling at her own mouth.

She nodded silently before letting out a sigh. “Yeah… I do.”

Peter just kept smiling. “I’m sorry. I’m just-” His smile somehow widened. “Happy.”

God. That was somehow worse. MJ looked away, hoping the heat in her face wasn't as obvious as it felt. A few seconds passed before Peter shifted in his chair. “So…”

MJ glanced at him. “So…?”

“So, um…” Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “When we get out of here…” She waited. “And I mean when both of us get out. Obviously. Not like, right now. Because you're still attached to like a dozen machines and I’m pretty sure May would physically drag me back upstairs if I tried to leave-“

“Peter.” She interrupted his train of thought.

“Right.” He swallowed. “Would you maybe want to go out with me?” MJ blinked. “Like, on a date,” Peter added quickly. “An actual one. Unless that's weird. Is that weird? We literally just figured out we like each other five seconds ago, so maybe I should've waited-“

“Yes.” She stopped. MJ stared at him for another second, her own heart beating embarrassingly fast. “Sorry! Yeah, I’d love to.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah.” She picked at the edge of her blanket. “I'll go out with you.”

Peter stared at her before a smile formed. “O-okay.” He swallowed. “There’s this one Thai spot May and Ben like… would that be okay? You know, after we’re discharged and all.”

“Yes, Peter.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, cool.”

They stared at each other. And silently, Peter slowly reached for her hand again; MJ let him take it. His fingers slipped between hers. Neither of them mentioned it. Peter smiled down at their hands. MJ rolled her eyes, squeezing his fingers anyway. Peter let out a soft laugh. “I really like you.”

MJ smiled back at him. “I really like you too.”

────𒌐──── 

Three weeks later, MJ discovered that first dates were significantly more terrifying than she had given them credit for, especially compared to crime fighting. At least criminals had the decency to punch her, they didn’t make her stand in front of her aunt's bathroom mirror for twenty minutes wondering if she'd somehow forgotten how clothes worked.

Eventually, she settled on a pair of black jeans, a black shirt, one of her favorite green cardigans, and her usual boots. Nothing that screamed I spent forty-five minutes pretending I wasn't trying.

Which was good, because Peter showed up wearing jeans, a black hoodie, and a blue button-up shirt. Also sporting an expression of someone who had also spent forty-five minutes pretending he wasn't trying. “You look nice,” he blurted immediately.

MJ blinked as she held back a smile. “And therefore I have value?”

Peter’s face paled, his eyes widening slightly. “What? Oh, n-no, no. I mean- not that you don't normally look nice. You do. Obviously. I just meant-“

“I’m messing with you.” She mercifully cut him off. “You look nice too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” They stood there. This was going wonderfully.

Finally, MJ grabbed her jacket. “Thai food?”

“Please.”

Peter opened the door for her, letting MJ walk in first, then following behind her. The restaurant was small, warm, and tucked between a laundromat and a convenience store. Peter had apparently been coming here with May and Ben for years, which MJ learned when the woman behind the counter greeted him by name. That would've been adorable if MJ hadn't made a personal commitment to never use that word in connection with Peter Parker again.

They got a booth near the window, and for the first five minutes, it was painfully obvious that they were both aware that this was a date. Peter knocked his fork onto the floor. MJ nearly inhaled her water when he asked if she wanted to share an appetizer. Eventually, something shifted.

Peter had started talking about Ned and how he had accidentally set off an alarm during chemistry that week, and MJ laughed, and suddenly it stopped feeling like a First Date and started feeling like them. Which was much easier.

“So,” Peter said, stealing another spring roll from the plate between them. “How's Anna's?”

She shrugged. “It’s fine.” Peter gave her a suspicious look. “It’s actually fine.” MJ laughed.

“You said that like someone being interrogated.”

“She's nice. Really nice.” MJ pushed some noodles around her plate. “It's just weird.”

Truthfully, everything felt weird now. Her home that she grew up in was gone, and her mom was dead. And her father- MJ swallowed.

She had tried calling him. At first, she'd gotten voicemail. Then she'd discovered he'd left New York altogether. Apparently her mother's death had been enough for Philip to pack whatever he wanted and disappear to another state. He hadn’t told MJ where, and she had stopped calling after that. She’d been staying with her Aunt Anna most of the time, but every now and then she would go over to the Parkers for dinner and end up staying the night more than a few times. Technically, her Aunt Anna had custody, but the Parkers were beginning to feel more like a second home.

“I like staying with you guys,” MJ admitted, blurting her thoughts out loud.

Peter smiled. “May likes having you there.”

“Your aunt feeds me like I'm preparing for hibernation. And Ben keeps trying to teach me how to fix things ‘cause it’s a ‘good skill to have.’”

Peter smiled faintly. “Yeah, but they enjoy having you around.”

MJ smiled back. She wasn’t entirely sure when she had incorporated herself into Peter’s life. She knew his Aunt and Uncle well by now, and somewhere along the way, she became better friends with Ned. He'd started texting her directly instead of exclusively through Peter. Mostly memes at first. Then complaints about school, and then some petty gossip, and it’s been evolving from there. MJ hasn’t told Ned about Spinneret yet, and honestly she doesn’t know if she ever will. But still, it was nice having a friend outside Peter.   

Peter reached across the table for another spring roll. MJ slapped his hand away.

“Hey!”  He recoiled his hand.

“You’ve had like four!” She laughed.

“Yeah, we’re sharing.”

“No! You’ve had four. I've had like two. So, not how sharing works.”

Peter grinned and stole it anyway. MJ stared at him as he slowly took a bite. “You're a terrible person. You know that?”

“I thought you liked me.” He grinned.

She shook her head. “I’m seriously reconsidering.”

His smile faltered for approximately half a second before he seemed to realize she was joking.

And there it was again. That weirdness, and it wasn’t bad, just new. Because they liked each other now. Well, technically they'd liked each other before. They just knew about it now, which somehow changed everything. Every time their knees bumped underneath the table, MJ noticed. Every time Peter smiled at her for a second too long, she noticed. When she'd reached across the table earlier and brushed something off his sleeve without thinking, Peter had gone completely silent for nearly thirty seconds.

It was honestly ridiculous. Because MJ had spent months talking to Peter like a normal person. And yet somehow sitting across from him eating noodles was the terrifying part.

Peter took a drink of water. “Can I ask you something?”

“That depends on how stupid the question is.”

“Sorry. That sounded weird. I just meant- because this is our first date, and I know we've hung out before, obviously, but those weren't dates, and this is, so I just wanted to make sure that you're actually enjoying-“ He sopped himself, taking in a deep breath. “Sorry, rambling again.”

MJ snorted. It’s fine. But yes, I am.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed. “Okay. Good.”

MJ smiled. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” He answered so quickly she laughed. “I mean- yes. Definitely.”

“Okay, good.” She nodded.

“Okay.’ He agreed.

There was another pause. MJ poked at what remained of her noodles. Apparently this was what dating was, saying okay to each other repeatedly while trying not to spontaneously combust.

Her gaze flickered toward Peter, who was looking out the window now, tapping his fingers lightly against his glass.

MJ frowned. Something had been bothering her most of dinner. They’ve established this as a date, and that they were on the date because they liked each other. But neither had actually established what happened after the date. It was a question that kept circling around her head so much it was starting to bug her. And MJ hated ambiguities.

Bluntly,  she asked, “So, are you my boyfriend?”

Peter choked on his water. MJ's eyes widened as he coughed violently into his elbow. “Jesus Christ.” She reached across the table. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter croaked.

“You sure?”

“Yep.” His entire face had turned red.

MJ slowly sat back as Peter wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Can you maybe ask that again?”

Her cheeks went red. “No, you heard the first time, clearly.”

“I did, but I was also actively inhaling water.” She stared at him. Peter stared back. MJ suddenly wished she'd waited until they were outside so she could throw herself off a building if this went badly.

She sighed. “Fine.” She lowered her voice. “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Peter's expression changed immediately. The surprise disappeared, replaced by something softer. “Yeah. Of course.” Peter smiled. “Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

She hadn't considered that the question might be returned. MJ stared at him, her expression softening. She hadn't considered that the question might be returned. MJ stared at him. Peter's smile grew. “You're enjoying this.”

“A little.” He admitted.

MJ kicked him lightly underneath the table. Peter laughed. “Yes,” she finally muttered.

Peter’s face lit up, letting out a soft chuckle. He extended his hand towards her from across the table. She took it, squeezing it gently as the two just smiled at each other. Eventually, they split the check, and hand in hand they walked out of the restaurant.

By the time they left, the sky had gone completely dark. Their hands still wrapped around each other as they kept walking. Eventually they reached the corner where they'd have to split off toward the subway.

Peter stopped.

“I had fun tonight.”

MJ smiled. “Yeah, me too. I mean, after everything, I’m glad we got this night to ourselves.”

“We should do this again.” MJ smiled faintly. “Probably. Considering you're apparently my boyfriend now.”

Peter's cheeks turned pink. “Right.” He smiled. “Girlfriend.” He laughed.

But then the laughter faded, and suddenly they were just standing there holding hands. The date was ending, and MJ realized she didn't want it to. She looked down the street, then back at Peter. “Do you have to go home?”

Peter blinked. “Uh, not immediately. I told May I'd probably be back around ten.”

MJ checked her phone. 8:37. Perfect. “Do you want to see something?”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s kinda vague.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Well, yeah, I do, but I’m still confused.”

MJ squeezed his hand before releasing it. “Come on. You’ll love this!” 

Before Peter could respond, MJ was dragging him toward the subway. Peter gripped her hand, letting her drag him through the streets of Queens.

────𒌐──── 

Fifteen minutes later, Peter was standing in the alley behind Anna's building while MJ disappeared up the fire escape. When she came back down, Peter's mouth fell open. MJ landed lightly in front of him. For the first time since the building collapse, Spinneret was back. The suit was different now, it was their suit.

They’d spent weeks remaking it together after everything that happened with Goblin. Peter had helped her with the design and preparing the web-shooters, replacing the damaged circuitry, while MJ mainly worked on reinforcing the fabric. They'd redesigned parts that hadn't worked before, replaced the shattered lenses, strengthened the gauntlets, and argued for nearly two hours over the positioning of one tiny sensor. It wasn’t perfect, and it certainly wasn’t the multi-million dollar suit Norman had provided. But it was hers, and Peter had helped make it.

MJ pulled the mask over her head. Peter was still staring. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You're staring.”

“I've just never seen it actually on you before.”

MJ looked down at herself. “Well?”

Peter smiled. “It looks amazing.”

Something warm spread through her chest. “Good answer.” She stepped closer.

Peter eyed her suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You still trust me, right?”

Peter bit his lip. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“Come on! It’ll be fun, you’ll love it!”

Peter eyes her. Taking in a deep breath, he nodded. “Ok. Ok, yeah, let’s do it.”

Before she could let him second-guess this, MJ wrapped one arm around his waist and freed a web. Peter barely had time to grab onto her before they shot upward. “OH, MY GOD!”

MJ laughed as wind tore past them as she swung out over the street. Peter's arms immediately locked around her. They swung between the buildings, Peter clinging to her as the city below blurred around them in streaks of light.

By their third big leap, Peter wasn’t screaming anymore. And a few seconds later, she could hear him let out a small laugh. It was quiet at first, almost lost beneath the wind rushing past them, but she heard it.

MJ grinned beneath her mask. “See!? Fun right?!”

Peter didn’t respond, instead clinging tighter to MJ as they swung. “You're having fun!”

Peter laughed again as MJ released the web. For one stomach-dropping second, they were completely weightless, making Peter's grip tighten around her. Then MJ fired another web, and they swung forward again.

God, had she missed this. Bing able to feel the wind roaring around her with the city beneath her. The split second between each swing where gravity seemed to disappear for a moment entirely. For the past three weeks, she’d been terrified that putting the suit back on would feel different. That all she’d be able to think about was Norman.

But right now, with Peter holding onto her, and laughing despite himself, it made Spinneret feel like hers again.

Eventually, MJ started climbing higher. Peter noticed immediately. “Uh, MJ?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are we going up?” “

Because that's where we're going.” She laughed.

Ahead of them was 432 Park Avenue, which stretched impossibly high into the night, below it stretched Central Park, the large open green space illuminated in the city lights, as the Manhattan skyline stood tall behind it. And one of the buildings sticking upward was the one MJ was focused on. Peter followed her gaze upward. “Oh, absolutely not.”

“Too late!” She responded as she shot another web.

She soared upward, and by the time they cleared the edge of the room, Peter had buried his face against her shoulder. MJ landed lightly and released him carefully.

Peter stumbled before MJ caught his arm. “Easy.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Peter straightened, slightly breathless. Then Peter finally looked around. His expression changed. The city stretched beneath them in every direction. Thousands of windows glittered against the darkness, making the city shine in a way Peter had never seen before. Cars moved through the streets like tiny streams of red and white light, and buildings that normally towered over them suddenly looked small.

MJ walked closer to the edge, extending an arm out. “Coming?”

“I’m considering it.”

She took her mask off. “Come on, I promise I won’t let you fall.”

Peter looked at the hand she extended toward him, then he took it. MJ led him closer to the edge before sitting down, letting her legs hang over. MJ looked up at him with a confident grin. After considerable hesitation, Peter sighed, his grip on her hand tightening as he slowly sat beside her, his other free hand clutching onto her, and MJ guided him down.

For a little while, neither of them spoke. Peter just stared. “Wow,” he finally whispered.

MJ smiled. “Yeah.”

“Is this where you disaster too?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes, I like to come up here to clear my head. It's my favorite spot in the city.”

“Really?” Peter asked. MJ nodded. “Why?”

MJ considered it for a moment. “Because everything shuts up.” She nudged his shoulder. “Down there, everything feels huge. School, home, her stuff, or whatever disaster is happening that week.” Her gaze drifted across the skyline. “Up here, everything looks smaller.”

Peter went quiet, and MJ immediately regretted becoming sincere. “You're the first person I've brought up here. Don't make it weird.” She added.

Peter smiled, leaning his shoulder against hers, their hands connecting.  MJ felt Peter lean his head against her shoulder, then his thumb moved lightly across the back of her hand. Making her stomach flip. 

She glanced toward him, and Peter was already looking at her, smiling.

Her mouth twitched. “What?”

His cheeks turned pink as he looked back out at the city, and this time, neither of them looked away. Something subtle shifted, but MJ felt it immediately. Peter's smile faded into something softer. His eyes moved across her face before flicking downward for half a second. Peter leaned in closer, and MJ didn’t move away. Their knees were touching now. Peter seemed to hesitate, MJ wasn’t sure if it was shyness or awkwardness, but MJ didn’t hesitate. She brought her free hand up, cupping Peter’s cheek and closing the space between them.

Their noses bumped into each other as their lips connected. It was barely a kiss at all, just a soft press of his lips against her, tentative enough that MJ could feel how nervous he was. Peter started to pull back.

MJ followed him without thinking, their lips met again.

Peter seemed surprised for half a second before relaxing into it, tilting his head slightly so their noses weren't in the way anymore. MJ's thumb brushed instinctively along his cheek as their lips moved together, slowly and somewhat clumsily as they figured it out. Peter kissed her carefully as MJ found herself smiling faintly against his mouth. His free hand hesitated near her waist before settling there, sending another nervous flutter through her stomach. MJ shifted closer, Peter did too.

The kiss deepened; MJ could feel Peter's breath hitch when her fingers slipped from his cheek into the curls near his ear, and his thumb traced a small, absentminded circle against her side. And for a few seconds, everything else seemed to disappear around her. The wind, the traffic, and the thousands of lights glowing beneath them. There was only Peter beside her, his hand in hers, his other arm around her waist, and the realization that she was kissing him.

Peter, her boyfriend, was kissing her. The thought alone made her smile again. Peter must’ve felt it.

He pulled away with a smile. “Are you smiling?”

She let out a soft chuckle. “Shut up.”

Peter laughed softly, his forehead falling against hers. MJ could feel herself smiling even wider as she closed her eyes, letting herself relax as she felt Peter’s warm body against hers. Then she tugged gently at the curls beneath her fingers.

Peter lifted his head slightly, opening his eyes. MJ looked at him, seeing Peter's face turned red. She silently shifted her body, settling against his side as she rested her head against her shoulder. His arm slipped around her almost naturally this time. And for a moment, they stayed there.

“I’m glad we did this,” Peter said quietly.

MJ smiled softly. “Yeah, me too.”

She wasn't entirely sure which part he meant. The date, or maybe it was coming up here, or maybe it was both. MJ shifted a little closer, resting more comfortably against his side. Peter adjusted his arm around her without even thinking about it, pulling her closer as they looked out over the city. For a while, neither of them said anything, they didn’t need to. New York stretched endlessly beneath them, alive and moving like it always was. Sirens echoed somewhere far below. Cars crawled along the streets. Apartment windows flickered on and off, thousands of people living thousands of lives that MJ would never know anything about. And a few weeks ago, she thought hers was over.

But sitting up here, watching the world go by, she got to sit up here and enjoy the company of the person she wanted to spend the most time with. Her life hadn’t been easy, and the last few months had definitely tested her, and for a while, MJ had felt like there wasn’t much left. But now, sitting here, her thumb brushing across Peter’s knuckles as she felt his heat radiating off his body, MJ realized there was still plenty of life left.

It wasn't the life she'd had before, and she didn't think she'd ever get that life back. There would always be an empty space where her mother should've been. There would always be things MJ wished she'd gotten the chance to say to her, stupid little moments she'd taken for granted because she'd assumed there would always be another one. And her dad- well, MJ didn’t know what to do with that. Maybe he’d call someday, and maybe he wouldn’t. Norman was dead, and there were still pieces of her life she had no idea how to put back together. But maybe she didn’t have to figure everything out tonight.

MJ glanced down at the suit covering her arms. It wasn’t Norman’s anymore. It wasn’t Oscorp’s. She and Peter had built it together, but Spinneret belonged entirely to her. And somehow, putting it on again hadn’t hurt nearly as much as she'd expected.

Peter squeezed her hand. “You okay?” He asked quietly.

MJ looked at him. At his stupid curls getting blown around by the wind. At the faint redness still lingering across his cheeks from their kiss. At the boy who had somehow gone from an annoying classmate at school to the person she trusted more than anyone, to her boyfriend.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I think I am.” Peter smiled and rested his head against hers again.

MJ looked back toward the city. Tomorrow, there would be things to figure out. There always would be. Eventually, Spinneret would have to swing back down there. But it wouldn’t happen right away. For now, MJ stayed exactly where she was, hundreds of feet above New York with Peter's hand wrapped around hers. Her life looked nothing like it had a few months ago, and maybe it never would again.

But for the first time in a while, MJ realized that didn't mean it couldn't still be good. And whatever came next, she was ready to find out.