Chapter Text
MJ pulls out any book she remembers helping her calm down and there are no other messages about Peter Parker. She thinks maybe she's finally losing her mind after the weeks of fogginess. Maybe this has always been written on the book that hasn't left her room in years, in her own handwriting. It's perfectly plausible.
It's cold on the floor where she's surrounded by books she's too tired to put back considering it's almost two am. She yanks her drawer open and fishes around for something warm, her hand falling on a familiar soft jumper. The only light she put on was the multicolour fairy lights above her bed, so she can't tell if the jumper is blue or black. It doesn't matter either way.
She slips it on and is hit with a wave of deja vu. The feelings of hands on her neck, fingers moving her hair for her, lips on her forehead. The jumper smells like home and yet it smells nothing like her. It's not the washing powder her mum uses, it's something else.
Closing her eyes, she pulls the jumper to her nose and inhales. The image of a brown hair boy invades her mind. She's seen him before but she only has the outline, there are no features in her mind. So she does what she can, grabbing a sketchpad and a pencil and letting her hand move over the page - filling in the gaps the blur won't let her see.
When she's done, her head feels lighter, though the image is no more clear until she looks at the page. She's seen this face before - he's in every sketchbook she owns.
So she grabs whatever drawings she can find. The ones she's sure are him and the ones she's not so sure about. The quick pen doodles and the more detailed coloured ones. She leaves the ones where she's dressed him in outfits out, the Spider-Man t-shirts putting her off entirely.
It's the guy from the coffee shop. It's so obvious now she doesn't know how she missed it. She thinks about him all the time without even thinking - she just gathered it's because he has a cute face. It's like her mind made the connection between him and whatever he is to her blurry on purpose.
MJ is a smart girl so she can't be sure these drawings are Peter Parker. But she can look into it.
She can't be sure he meant anything to her, but the thump of her heart and the way her fingers trace over the creases on his face suggest otherwise. The way when she sees him come into the coffee shop, he's looking right at her suggests he knows her - or maybe he's just trying to figure it out as all.
So instead of looking for books that calm her down, she looks for love stories.
And there they are. In all her well-read love stories, the ones with dog eared pages and split spines.
"Find Peter Parker. Peter is the answer."
"Fuck," she sighs. At least it won't be too difficult, he comes to the shop all the time.
In the final book, One More Day, a note slips out. It's a few months old, that much she knows and it wasn't written by her. It's Peter.
He's asking her to homecoming. And she said yes. So why the fuck can't she remember any of it? What did he do?
She flips the paper and there in her handwriting.
"He won't be able to keep his promise. You love him anyway. Find Peter Parker."