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It was raining when Gwen stood in front of Mary Jane's house. Well, technically, it was her parent's garden house, but since they were both too busy for their daughter or garden parties most of the time, they practically didn't use it and had allowed Mary Jane to move into it.
And here Gwen was, staring at the ferry lights lining the wooden door, rain dripping down her face and clothes, and her hand hovering at the door since three minutes now. It was stupid to have changed out of her wet suit into dry clothes, only to get them wet again within seconds, but she couldn't exactly turn up at MJ's doorstep after months of absence and reveal her secret identity at once. She had more subtlety than Peter after all.
Well – Peter B., that was. She sighed. Figured that the only way she would make friends again would be by meeting her multidimensional alter-egos, one of whom resembled her dead best friend. It was the pain of that train of thought that made her hand finally make contact with the door in front of her.
The hollow sound seemed to vibrate through her; she gulped and buried her hands deep in the pockets of her white hoodie.
She heard movement, her heartbeat picking up with each leasurly step coming nearer, until finally the door opened, revealing an unruly head of red hair.
“Dad I told you, the roof is fine, I fixed it weeks ag-”
Green, gentle eyes froze and widened and for the first time in months, Gwen found herself looking into the face of her former friend and band mate Mary Jane.
MJ stared at her for a moment in shock, then she sagged against the door frame as if all strength had suddenly left her.
“Gwen,” she whispered into the rain.
“Hey MJ,” Gwen answered quietly, her shoulders hunched. It was painful looking at her beautiful friend but she forced herself to. The open door created a draft over her cold body and she shivered; that seemed to spur MJ into action.
“God, you're soaked! Come in, come in...” she spluttered, taking Gwen's hand and pulling her into the cozy warmth of the garden house. Her hand was warm and soft in Gwen's and a jolt went through her at the contact.
MJ went on about how stupid she was to walk through the rain like that without so much as a jacket, rummaged in her makeshift closet and pulled a woolen sweater and sweat pants out, throwing them onto the bed before she stood in front of Gwen with that determined spark in her eyes.
“Come on, you have to get out of these clothes.”
Gwen took a step back.
“What? No, it's fine, I mean I'm fine-”
MJ rolled her eyes and went right up to her.
“Gwen, you really are useless sometimes.” Gwen had actually forgotten how hard it was to stop the force that was Mary Jane when she promptly grabbed her wet hoodie and attempted to pull it up. Her eyes went wide.
“NO, wait-”
But it was too late. She could see MJ freeze when she caught sight of the exposed skin of her waist. The little ease that had returned between them, dissapeared from her face as she looked at Gwen in horror. Gwen didn't dare to move.
MJ stepped closer to her. She could smell her strawberry shampoo. This had been a bad idea. Slowly, MJ pulled her hoodie up higher, and Gwen, Gwen who could do a back flip in the air while creating a web that bound ten grown men together, was helpless to do anything but lift her arms. She winced when she felt the contusions on her ribs – the fight was starting to show its toll.
Gently, Mary Jane pushed the sweatshirt over her head and let it drop to the floor.
And so Gwen stood in front of her former friend naked from the waist up, bare for a tattered white sports bra, wrapping her arms around herself in a feeble attempt to cover up the other marks of her fight.
MJ pressed a hand over her mouth, her worried eyes scurrying up to meet hers for a second before they slowly wandered down again, taking in the various bruises and scratches on her body.
After a while Gwen couldn't take the silence anymore.
“It's not as bad as it looks.” She attempted a smile - it probably looked more like a grimace.
MJ pressed her lips together.
“What happened, Gwen?” It was somewhere between a whispered demand and a question.
Gwen shifted her arms over a particularly nasty looking bruise on her rib cage.
“It's nothing. They're just really pushing us at, at Ballet school...”
She drifted off, knowing how ridiculous she sounded.
MJ took in a deep breath. Then she erupted.
“You don't get to do that!” she cried and to Gwen's shock, she shoved her.
“You don't get to dissapear on me for months – do you know how worried I've been? After Peter- I thought you have done something to yourself! Look at you! And now you turn up, with no warning, looking like, god-” A sob broke from her lips as her hands gestured helplessly at Gwen's bruises.
“And you don't get to do that and then show up here and lie to me like I'm a four year old kid!”
She weakly slapped her arm and Gwen just stared at her in helpless agony, tears prickling in her own eyes as well.
MJ bit her lip, obviously trying to keep her tears back, her hands lying on Gwen's shoulders in tight fists.
Then she rushed forward and pulled Gwen into a tight hug, encasing her in warmth and strawberry. Gwen had known this wouldn't be easy, but she sure as hell didn't think it would become this messy this quick.
“You could have been dead,” MJ sobbed into her neck, holding her even tighter, now full-out crying. And finally, for the first time since before Peter's death, Gwen allowed herself to cry as well.
Tears and months of pent up grief spilled from her as she wrapped her arms around MJ and basked in the warmth, the familiarity of her.
“I'm here,” she whispered, “I'm here. I'm sorry.”
***
“This is amazing!” MJ gushed, as she threw herself into the spiderweb-made hammock Gwen had made for her in the corners of the garden house's roof for the second time.
Gwen chuckled form her position right-angled to her, hanging from the wall, her arms resting on her knees.
“That's nothing”, she said casually, her heart full of warmth, soaking up the joy of her friend.
MJ narrowed her eyes at her playfully.
“Showoff”, she scolded.
It had been a long night three days ago. After their long hug, that ended with them wrapped up together in bed, MJ had demanded that Gwen tell her everything and Gwen did. She told her of the spider, of her dad, how she figured out her powers, of how Peter had fallen prey to Dr Octavius and she had decided to cut off all her friends, to protect them. She told her of the multiverse and she had even told her about her alter-egos, about Miles, and Peter B, Penny, Spider-Noir and even Peter Porker and how they had made her see it was wrong to give up on her friends.
The following two days had been an endless exchange of questions, accusations, assurances, more tears and hugs. They had now finally gotten to the part where Gwen could show off her powers like she had never done before and MJ was clearly enjoying them.
The redhead jumped down from the hammock eagerly and Gwen quickly created a web to cushion her fall. MJ smiled softly, stepping from the web down to to floor, looking up at her.
“You're a gentlewoman,” she declared in earnest, and Gwen blushed.
Yeah, that was another thing she had figured out. Because the truth was, she had run from MJ before she had ran from all her other friends, after she had drunkenly kissed her after a concert.
And had made a horrible attempt of acting like it hadn't happened, before distancing herself despite all of MJ's attempts at a conversation, anything, until Peter died. And the rest, well it was sad history. But maybe, Gwen thought hopefully, Maybe I can change it now.
MJ walked until she stood right beneath her, craning her face up so they looked right at each other.
“You said there was a Dr Octavius in that dimension,” she pondered in a low voice.
Gwen frowned. “Yes, there was.”
MJ bit her lip, as she was prone to do when she was thinking. It was a habit Gwen sometimes wished she didn't have, just for the sake of her sanity.
“Was there another me as well?” her friend finally asked.
Gwen hesitated. “Yes."
MJ's eyes were so green and warm.
“What was she like?”
“Older. Intelligent. Heartbroken. Very... very beautiful.”
She averted her eyes at the last part, shifting her feet on the wall.
“Come down here,” MJ beckoned softly.
Still not looking at her and wondering why she couldn't control her damn mouth around this girl, Gwen obeyed and walked down the wall, but not fully coming down. It was safer that way.
“Do you think we're the same?” MJ asked.
Gwen shook her head. “No. The other Spider-people, they were... very different form me. I mean, I guess there were some similarities but -” She finally dared to look into MJ's patient green eyes. A mistake.
“I don't think there could really be another you. Not really. She reminded me of you, though. It made me-” She trailed off. This was so much more difficult than fighting bad guys.
“Why did you come to me first? Why not to Chuck or Emily?”
Gwen ran a hand through her hair, feeling the shaved part, still new and thinking of her brave friends. She decided she could be brave, too.
“Maybe I did before I came to you.”
Or maybe not.
“No, you didn't. I texted them to tell them you are alright but that you need time.”
Gwen blew up her cheeks and let the air out forcefully.
“I ran from you much longer than I did from them. And you are... MJ, I know I ran away, but I always... cared about you. A lot. I wanted to call you, talk to you, but I just couldn't. And after Peter, I was just so scared. But being in this other dimension, with that Spider-Man dead, I- I realized that we have to tell people things. While we still can.”
Maybe that had come out more morbid than she had intended but Gwen was really giving this her all here. She almost fell off the wall when suddenly two soft hands grasped her cheeks.
She could feel MJ's breath on her face, the warmth of her gaze and body.
“I want to tell you things too, Gwen,” MJ whispered gently.
There was a lump in her throat and Gwen tried to shallow it.
“You can. I'm here now. I'll listen. I'll try to be a better friend, I-”
MJ pulled her face down and pressed their lips together.
And finally, it felt as if Gwen's heart was dancing, too.