Chapter Text
January 2035
Michelle sighs as she looks around, holding the last box that she has of her belongings.
The hum of the insects in the background aren’t all that dissimilar to the noise of the city, quiet and peaceful in a way that helps her unwind.
Harry used to think that analogy didn’t make sense but then that’s part of the reason why they never really fit. Michelle laughs to herself, wondering how he’s doing and the chances of running into each other would be in a city as big as New York.
Just my luck , she thinks as she puts the last of her belongings into the trunk of her car. She closes it, looking back out over to the lake house that had served as her home away from home for the weekend.
It was massive, more of an estate really with all the bells, whistles and kind of tech that makes her think that the previous owner had clearly been some kind of Silicon Valley genius. It was an inside joke with herself that the AirBnB that her and Harry used to frequent as a couple was now a place that she most enjoyed for some quiet moments of solitude.
It was extravagant, even if the price of renting it out wasn’t nearly as obscene as it should be. But Aunt Anna insisted on it, a treat for her only niece.
“The doctor in our family deserves a break,” Aunt Anna would always say, Michelle rolling her eyes more times than not but being very grateful for it now.
Tomorrow being the first day of residency wasn’t something that she was particularly nervous about, Michelle had prepared too much for it to feel something as simple as nerves , but it was a little overwhelming to say the least.
There’s something entirely different from being a student doctor following around attendings and being the one actually called doctor, expected to know what she’s doing half the time though Michelle already anticipates on leaning on the nurses and techs as much as she possibly can.
Michelle’s about to open the door to her car before pausing, looking back to the lake house once more. There was a tradition at this particular AirBnB to leave a little note to the next residents, a kind of “pay it forward” that the original owners requested.
She didn’t know who those owners were and never really participated in it beforehand, especially since Harry usually took care of not just the bill but any messages to be left behind.
But something strikes her just then to do it, a whim that Michelle leans with since the chances of her having the chance to do something as silly and as impulsive as this would be slim to none as the months went on.
She opens the car door and reaches into the glove compartment, rustling around for a pen and paper before finding both - leaning back into her seat and uncapping the pen.
Michelle pauses, glancing out over the lake house once more before she smiles and begins to write.
To the next guest,
If you haven’t been told already, it’s a tradition in this place to leave a little message for the next visitors. I don’t usually do this kind of thing but the world is bad enough out there. We all need a little help sometimes.
Some things to remember:
There’s some weird bite and scratch marks on the side of the building facing the lake. I don’t know what caused it and I haven’t asked, but I haven’t seen any dead bodies around so… think of it as part it’s charm.
The water pressure is amazing and the heat is seemingly limitless. You will still need to wait a few seconds when starting the shower. Otherwise, you’re gonna have a very interesting wake up call. Trust me.
For as teched out as this place is, the coffee pot is ancient and apparently also part of the charm. The coffee tastes a little burnt but the view makes up for it.
Have a great stay. It’s a great place. Hope you enjoy it.
Best,
MJ
01/35
Michelle looks at her handiwork, smirking to herself before folding up the note and exiting the car - walking over to the mailbox that she knows for a fact is just for show.
It was a joke between her and Harry, back when they were dating - why the owners would have a mailbox out in front when any actual mail would get sent to their place of residence. Harry had joked that it was a rich people thing, part of the whole ‘cabin out in the middle of nowhere’ mystery that Michelle had just rolled her eyes at.
She’s glad for it now, sliding the letter into the mailbox and lifting the little red handle to indicate that there’s something there - hoping that whoever the next guest is that they’d check it out.
Whether they did or they didn’t, Michelle did her part - feeling just a little bit lighter as she glances out over the lake house one more time.
Time to head back to real life , she thinks to herself before bundling her coat and turning back to her car - snow crunching underneath her feet and a smile on her face as she does so.
“Is anyone sitting here?”
Michelle glances up from her lunch to see Liz, one of the senior residents staring up at her. She motions for the chair across from her, Michelle shaking her head and motioning for her to sit.
Liz does so with a smile, setting her own lunch pail down as the busy din of the cafeteria echoes around in the background.
“Michelle right?” Liz asks, Michelle nodding as Liz starts to unpack her food.
“First week down. How are you feeling?”
Michelle huffs out a laugh, one that just makes Liz’s smile grow wider as Michelle says, “It’s… a lot.”
“Yeah, they really throw you guys out to the wolves,” Liz stage-whispers, head nodding towards the attendings that were sitting across the hospital. Michelle just smiles, feeling an instant kinship with her from the mischievous smile on her face as Liz says, “Watch, they’ll probably see us and try and snap a picture for the residency website.”
Michelle laughs, Liz joining in as she leans forward. “Where you from?”
“Here, originally,” Michelle says, picking at her sandwich. “Harvard for undergrad. Northwestern for med school. You?”
“Born and raised. NYU for undergrad, Columbia for med. I can’t imagine leaving the city,” Liz says not unkindly, Michelle taking the pause in the conversation to press forward.
“I never thought I’d like it but,” Michelle shrugs, “it was nice, see a little more of what’s out there.”
“What brought you back?” Liz asks. Normally Michelle would bristle at someone being so forthright but there’s something about Liz that sets her at ease, a gentleness that immediately endears her to Michelle.
“Just cause I wanted to see more of what’s out there didn’t mean I like it,” Michelle jokes, smiling when Liz laughs loudly at that.
“Smart move,” Liz says with a grin, Michelle inwardly taking that as a win as she takes another bite of her food.
For all of Michelle’s preparation, the first week had left her feeling a little in over her head. She felt at home in a hospital, as much as she could be anyway, but learning the “ropes” from the less than welcoming attendings hadn’t made the transition any easier.
She’d told herself when she walked in that she was going to be intentional about making a friend, but the rush of learning where she was going - much less everyone else’s names - had made everything else fall at the wayside. Michelle’s glad that Liz seemed nice enough to pick her out of the crowd, the more cynical part of her wondering if maybe this was some kind of push from the attendings to find interns and befriend them.
She pushes that thought away as quickly as it comes, focusing more on what was in front of her and the kindness that radiated from Liz.
“I know we just met but can I offer some advice?” Liz asks, Michelle waiting expectantly as Liz sets down her yogurt.
“The cafeteria is easy but it is also so loud,” she says, nodding once again to the attendings who sounded less like professionals and more like members of a sorority and frat. Michelle bites back a laugh as Liz continues, “Find a place with some sunshine or some air outside. I promise, if anyone needs anything, they’ll contact you.”
Liz points to Michelle with her spoon, a smile on her face as she says, “Got to take the time to take care of yourself.”
“Noted,” Michelle says, taking the friendly advice for what it is. Her mom was finally back in town from vacation, thinking of the text she’d sent asking when Michelle would be free for lunch.
There was a pretty park just outside of the hospital that they could meet up at, especially since the weather was supposed to be freakishly warm in the next week. She makes a mental note of texting her back the location when she has another free moment, turning her attention back to Liz.
“Any other secrets out there?” she asks, Liz smirking as she leans in conspiratorially.
“You really want to know?”
Michelle grins.
“Definitely.”
February 2035
“Sixty degrees on Valentine’s Day. This can’t be New York.”
“Global warming,” Michelle’s mom says with a laugh, Michelle looking back at her as she says, “Icebergs start melting, water covers the earth. Thank God we won’t live to see it.”
“Nice, mom,” Michelle says, her mom still laughing as Michelle looks back down to her open purse, tilting her head as she asks, “What’s this?”
“Mmm, one of your dad’s,” her mom replies, Michelle listening and yet not at the same time as she describes the book that was so obscure that even she didn’t know where it came from. She’d have to thank Liz for suggesting meeting outside or at least getting out of the hospital on a consistent basis, especially for how often now she got the chance to see her mom.
Michelle hadn’t said it then that but was another reason she’d moved back to the city, a desire to be closer to her mom especially after her dad died two years ago. Michelle’s dad had been the one who encouraged her voracious reading habits when she was a kid and the art she used to do as a hobby and now that he was gone, it pained her to think that she had let some of those hobbies go.
She couldn’t make up the time she lost with her dad but she was glad at least that she still had her mom, only to smile when her mom seems to notice that she’s not really paying attention - brown eyes squinting at her.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Michelle says with a grin, laughing as her mom shakes her head, her long braids swishing back and forth as she does.
Before she gets the chance to say anything else, Michelle hears a loud roar in the distance - whipping her head towards the sound only for her eyes to grow wide when she sees it.
It’s a man, or at least she thinks it is, long tentacle like arms marching forward as someone else in a rhino looking suit barrels forward. She sees a flash of red and blue come from the other side, Michelle and her mom scrambling away from the fight as it reaches a head right in front of the hospital.
I hate this city , she thinks but doesn’t say as her mom and her run, Michelle and her mom ducking for cover along with the others who are doing the same - turning back and looking on in horror as Spider-Man fights whatever villains of the week are right in front of him.
This was the part she hadn’t missed about living in New York, the random and seemingly never ending fights that the Avengers and their like got caught up with almost daily. It was all people ever wanted to talk to her about when they found out she was from the city, but Michelle hadn’t cared about it even when she lived there - the kind of nonchalance that only came from being a born and bred New Yorker.
Yet having grown up in the city as long as she had, she knew enough to have been witness to enough supervillain and superhero fights that whatever was happening between Spider-Man and whoever these guys were - Spider-Man was losing .
She watches as Spider-Man swings, just barely avoiding a hit from the rhino looking guy only to get slammed by a tentacle from the other one.
“Come on Spider-Man,” someone next to her whispers, Michelle finding herself thinking the same as she watches - only to inhale sharply as others start to scream.
It’s like time moves in slow motion, watching in horror as Spider-Man avoids a hit by a tentacle only to get sliced through with another - the screams of those around her turning deathly silent when Spider-Man gets slammed down to the ground.
“Is he--”
“Did anyone see him?”
“What’s going on?”
The voices around her are whispered and furious, Michelle’s self-preservation instincts battling with her medical training. Her mother places a hand to her shoulder, Michelle quickly turning to her and seeing the fear and the determination in her eyes - only for someone else to call out, “Look, it’s Cap!”
She turns to see Captain America fly in, along with some other woman draped in red - wishing now that she had a better sense of who these superheroes were so she had an inkling of knowing exactly what was happening.
Only to hear a shattered cry come from the woman in red, her stomach dropping when she falls to her knees as the Human Torch comes barreling forward through the sky - sending firebombs towards the two villains who had fought Spider-Man.
Michelle has seen enough loss, in her life and as part of her job, to know all too well what the look on the woman in red’s face means - horror churning around in her gut of what she just witnessed.
“Is he…?” Someone repeats, Michelle moving to a stand as the villains are warded off - the fight echoing out in the background as they all stare.
For as busy as New York as, for as loud as the city can be - the street feels quiet in a way that unnerves Michelle, her mom slipping her hand into hers, tightening her grip as they tried to make sense of what was happening in front of them.
The sinking feeling in her stomach only grows when she sees Captain America fly back down, not missing the way his shoulders drop as the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach grows.
“Mayor Osborn announced that plans for the memorial for Spider-Man would begin next week, following a unanimous vote for--”
Michelle turns the radio off, plugging in her phone and turning on a playlist to distract her before turning her attention back to the road - hands gripping the steering wheel tight as she took a deep breath.
It still didn’t get any easier to hear it, the fact that Spider-Man had not only died but had died right in front of her - powerless to stop it in a way that didn’t come easy for her.
It was ironic and a little egotistical to think that she could’ve done anything to save him, not least of which because half of the NYU medical team had rushed forward to assist before Spider-Man had been airlifted out to wherever the Avengers compound was supposed to be.
But all of it had been for nothing, something that Michelle had known from the moment that it happened.
Spider-Man was dead. Michelle had been right there to watch it happen. And just like her dad, there was nothing she could’ve done to stop it.
It shouldn’t affect her as much as it did. She didn’t know Spider-Man and didn’t care about superheroes, but it was still jarring - in a way that she was having a hard time coming to grips with considering the week from hell that she’d already had.
The halls of the hospital felt even more dreary and confusing, patients and staff alike bursting into tears seemingly out of nowhere - the amount of Spider-Man decorations adorning the pediatric ward being a little too much for Michelle to stomach, much less having to overhear the kids crying over their fallen hero.
It’d been Liz who suggested that she take her next leave to get out of the city, her mom encouraging the fact and contacting Aunt Anna before she could say no.
“I’ll just hang around my apartment,” she’d said, only for her mom to put her foot down - arguing that this was the least they could to support her, Michelle taking the kindness for what it was and being glad in her own way for the reprieve.
She’d become so used to being on her own when she went to college and to medical school. For as much as she looked forward to spending more time with her mom, she wasn’t sure if spending a week with her or even spending time alone in her own apartment - still surrounded by news of Spider-Man and the personal failure she knows she shouldn’t feel in being unable to see him - taunting her wherever she went.
The drive out to the lake house passed by quickly, the closer she got to it the more she was glad that she had taken her mom and Aunt Anna up on the offer. The lake house was a place where she felt more herself in a way that she couldn’t explain, a peace there that she’d yet to capture in her new studio apartment.
The freak heat wave was gone, snow steadily falling as she pulls down the familiar road that would lead her to where the lake house was situated - feeling herself relax as she makes her way down the driveway.
The house looms large over her, casting a shadow over the car as she parks and turns off the ignition - debating what she should have for dinner only to pause when she notices it.
The mailbox’s red flag was up, a part of Michelle immediately curious to know if someone had stayed there in the few months it’d been since she had - only to wonder if maybe it was still just her letter sitting there.
Only one way to find out , she thinks to herself, grabbing her things and exiting her car - snow rattling off the top of her car as she closes the door and walks over.
Michelle feels a rush of anticipation as she gets closer to the mailbox, chiding herself for the silly thought yet instantly rewarded when she opens it and sees a piece of paper in it.
Her face falls when she sees that it’s just her own letter, turning it over and feeling a thrill once again when she sees new, unfamiliar writing on the other side.
That thrill turns to confusion when she reads the message, taking hold of the letter in two hands - incredulous as her eyes travel over it.
Dear MJ,
I got your note and I’m afraid there has to be some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe your note was intended for the Sandringham cottage down the road.
I’m a little confused on how you know about the lake house in the first place or have ever lived here enough to know about the water pressure since this place has been empty for years.
I agree though, we all need a little help sometimes. If you have a message for the Sandringham cottage, I’ll pass it on to them.
Best,
Peter
Oh and by the way, it’s 2033, not 2035.
Michelle blinks a few times, rereading the note over and over again and feeling more confused than ever.
“What the fuck?”