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M.J. sat at the table, reading through the latest peer reviewed article the medicinal world had to offer. It was still a bit strange to her that nursing was the career path she ended up going down, but after helping May patch Peter up on numerous occasions just in their first year together, she realized that she was actually pretty good at it. She took a chance and decided to enter nursing school after they graduated from Midtown, and the more she learned, the more enthralled by it she became. Peter would often joke that she went down that path so she could better satisfy her fascination with all things dark and morbid, which might've actually been just a bit true, but more than that, she loved being able to contribute to society like Peter did.
Even before she went down this path, M.J. always knew she wanted to be in the action somehow. She wanted to make a direct impact on society somehow, and her work in the hospital provided that opportunity in spades. Her work had also pushed her out of her comfort zone when it came to how she interacted and related to people. When she first started out, she would tend to just tell it like it was, good or bad, because it made sense to her that being forthright was the best way. M.J. quickly realized quite the opposite was true; she realized that she needed to put in the work to assess how a patient needed to be spoken too and how they would handle certain kinds of news. She was definitely still working on it, as her tendency to be bluntly honest was always lurking, but she was getting better.
In spite of his light teasing, Peter had been nothing but supportive of her career choice the entire time, from their dating years to the still young years of their marriage, he repeatedly voiced how proud of her he was, and those little encouragements had made all the difference. Their were so many times during their college years especially where she struggled with the exhausting requirements of the program, but he was always there with an encouraging word and espresso whenever she needed it. She ended up graduating at the top of her class, with Peter following suit when he graduated with his degree in Biochemistry.
Speaking of her husband, M.J. was beginning to wonder where he was. He was usually back from patrol by this point, but sometimes things just couldn't be helped and he had to stay out later than usual. She glanced over from her computer to her phone, which she had set to alert her to any news reports mentioning Spider-Man, a move she had made a long time ago because she worried about him and wanted to be the first to know that he made it out of a situation okay. Tonight, however, all was quiet; not even an agitated businessman complaining about mild destruction of property after he left webs at the scene of a robbery.
M.J. got up from her seat at the table, heading for the bedroom. For as long as they'd been married to this point (barely 2 years), Peter had always come and found her after he returned from his nightly swinging and crime fighting, so it was a long shot to find him in there, but who knew? She loved him, and she knew him better than almost anybody, but there were some things that would go on in a superhero's mind that she knew she could never fully understand.
The door was open, and when she rounded the corner, she actually did find Peter. He was sitting on the side of their bed, still in costume. His mask was removed though, and he was holding it in his hands, staring down at it.
M.J. gave him a quick once over as she walked into the room. It was dark, but from what she could tell, there wasn't so much as a tear on his costume, so he was likely at least physically okay. She was not naive enough to think that his enhanced senses hadn't at least picked up that she was there, so she went ahead and sat down next to him.
"You okay?" she asked, running her hand gently up and down the back of his suit. Experience had taught her that a general question and a small physical gesture were never a bad thing to him, even on his worst nights.
Peter didn't answer right away, continuing to stare at the red, web patterned mask in his gloved hands.
"I don't know," he finally said. "I'm just....tired."
"Well, it is like 1 O' Clock in the morning," she said.
"Not like that," he clarified, "it's like..."
He then turned his head to face her.
"M.J, I've been Spider-Man for 10 years now."
M.J.'s eyes widened a little at this. "Wow, I hadn't even thought about that," she confessed. It made sense, seeing as they were 25 now, and he had started when he was 15, but still...wow.
Peter's gaze returned to the mask. "I've been thinking a lot today," he said.
"About what?" she asked, moving her hand from his back to his hair, running through the bit near his left ear.
"Everything," he said. "The good, the bad, all I've lost..." his voice trailed off there, like he didn't know how to continue. What he had just said conveyed plenty to M.J. though. In those 10 years, Peter had seen more terrible things and lost more people close to him than 10 people did in a lifetime, and then some. She continued running her hand through his curly hair, letting him sort through what he wanted to say.
"I'm just so tired, M.J," he resumed, turning to her again. "It's like everything that I've seen and has happened to me since I was 15 just hit me all at once today somehow, as if I had a building drop on me or something."
"Do you want to get away somewhere for a bit?" she asked. "It might take a bit to get the approval, but I have a little vacation time, plus you have some time at the lab you can use."
Peter looked up towards nothing in particular, appearing to be considering the possibility for a moment.
"No," he finally said, shaking his head. "For all I know, I might wake up tomorrow and feel better, it's just...it all feels so heavy. It's weird too, because I love being Spider-Man. I get to help a lot of people, and swinging through the city still feels so freeing, even after all these years too."
"But you've lost so much at the same time," M.J. replied. "Friends, people in battle..."
Peter gave her a look that gently indicated he already knew all of this.
"Sorry," M.J. said, "there's my brutal honesty again. My point is that it's okay to allow yourself to feel this way sometimes."
Peter nodded.
"I'm sorry," he said, looking down and shaking his head, "here I am complaining when for all I know, you may have just watched somebody die at the hospital today."
"Not today, thankfully," she said, offering him a light smile. Peter returned it with a smile of his own, letting out a huff of air as a small laugh.
"Thanks M.J," he said.
"It's what I'm here for," she said. "After all, I get a lot of practice with the patients at the hospital."
"Well, it was all those times patching me up that got you into it in the first place, so I guess it's just coming full circle," Peter said, his smile growing bigger.
"Yeah yeah, give yourself all the credit," M.J. replied sarcastically.
"Well, am I wrong?" he asked, shrugging.
M.J. just shook her head at him before leaning in for a kiss.
"Not this time at least," she replied softly once they separated. "You gonna be okay?"
Peter sighed. "Yeah, I will be."
"Alright, then how about I make up a late night snack for us while you take a shower?" she said. "You smell like corporate pollution."
Peter's face dropped for just a moment, but then he stood up.
"As the lady wishes," he said, offering up a bow to her. He then reached down to give her one more kiss before heading off for the bathroom.
Once Peter had left the room, M.J. looked down toward the mask he had now discarded on the floor. She picked up, looking into the white eye lenses within it. She could never understand fully what Peter went through every day when he was out there, whether he was stopping a petty crime or saving the world. She could always choose to be there for him though, and she would. They were a team, they loved each other, and that was all there was to it.
It had been 10 long years for Peter, but M.J. was going to make sure she was there for him for all the rest.