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“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he mumbles as he cradles her head to his chest.
“Fuck,” she says, her voice shakey in the way it is every time she almost falls to her death. She didn’t fall this time, but she will. She always does.
His hand lingers on the greenstone he shouldn’t have as she pulls away from him. He had twelve hours with her this time and he thinks he’d do anything to have a lifetime with her.
“Falling is terrifying,” she laughs but he sees the way her hands still shake and he feels his chest cracking that he can’t stop her from falling every time. And he can’t do this anymore. He's always wondering when it’s going to be. Will she fall from the scaffolding this time or will he have to dive into the river to drag her lifeless body from the bottom of the Hudson?
So he moves closer, crossing his legs so they’re sat opposite on top of the roof they come to every time they have to have this conversation.
“You’re going to die,” he whispers.
"I- what?" she asks, her heart beating as fast as it always does but he found telling her straight out was the better way to go. He doesn't know how to save her, but he knows her.
"You die,” he says, the repetition of this moment never making it easier to watch the terror crawl across her face. He leans forwards to cup his hand around the back of her neck, his fingers tightening around her braid to pull her closer as he presses his lips to hers. He’ll never get used to seeing her fall, to hear the last beats of her heart - but this? Keeping her calm and making her feel loved - this he can do.
“Peter,” she whispers against his mouth. Her hands find his face, her thumbs rubbing against his jaw.
He allows them some time to get lost in each other. To ignore the perils they may face because she’s safe here. For right now and he needs her right now.
“I -”
“You come with me and you die MJ. Sometimes you fall and I don't catch you. Or I think this time it worked out and you’re safe and then you get flung into the wall and I can't keep letting you die on a loop. I can't -"
“What are you talking about?” she asks, her fingers playing with the broken necklace he gifted her.
“I’ve been rewinding time because I can’t figure out how to get you to stay alive for longer than half a fucking day. And I - it’s killing me, MJ. It kills me and I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“Peter. I trust you. You don’t - just tell me what to do,” she replies and he realised about seven time turns ago that she thought he meant she just needed to die. That there was no way to save her at all. And she was going to give it all up for him.
“We need Stephen. He can fix it. To break this - you have to forget me. It takes us back to before the fight. It’s the only way to make sure you’re not here.”
“I forget you?” she asks, her brows furrowing but she doesn’t break.
“I’ll come for you, I’ll come for you. When this is all over. When you can be safe. I'll come back for you.”
“Right,” she says, her hand tight against his.
“So we have this talk and then what? Why are we still here?” she asks, her face noticeably sad as she moves closer to him. She won’t remember any of the previous events, but she knows him. So she knows there’s a reason they haven’t fixed this yet.
“Well, then I’m selfish -”
“You could never be selfish, Peter,” she says, her hand against his neck as she looks at him like she’d love him wherever she was. Whoever she ended up being. She’d loved him
“You look at me like that,” he whispers, running this thumb across her mouth just so she’ll chase him and press her fingers against him.
“I’m not looking at you like anything,” she replies, looking down to school her face into something more disinterested, then, “this is just my face.”
“I know. And you’re perfect. And how am I supposed to let go of that?” he sobs, his face crumpling under the weight of his failure.
“Peter -”
“I keep thinking I can keep you just as you are. I keep thinking that I’ll rewind just once more and the love I have for you is enough to keep you here, to keep you safe. But the universe doesn’t care about that. And I can’t lose you again, Em.”
“So let’s go, Pete. Let’s just go and fix this,” she says, pressing her lips to his. “And then come and find me.”
“What if you don’t want me?” he asks. It’s selfish to keep them here because this is the only reality he knows where MJ likes him. Where she wants him as much as he wants her. It’s a little ridiculous how badly he needs her to stay sane.
“Do you remember in fourth grade when you helped Lily off the playground after Zach pushed her over? And you were puffing your chest out like a soft breeze wouldn’t knock you to the ground,” she chokes out.
“You’re so mean to me,” he laughs, cupping the back of her neck to kiss her again. He lets her tongue soothe him as he breathes her in. Desperate to remember the smell of her shampoo, the way her hands feel in his hair, the way her heartbeats.
“I’ve been mildly obsessed with you ever since,” she whispers.
“Em, we didn’t even talk until high school,” he replies, resting his forehead against hers.
“I know. So keep that as your reminder that I’ll always want you. I wanted you as a nerdy guy who tripped over his own shoelaces and I want you now,” she says, her voice breaking. “ I want you now. And I’ll want you when you've saved the world, okay?”
“Okay,” he breathes. “Okay.”
The gold flecks are spinning and he feels like he might pass out from exhaustion but he needs to keep his eyes on her. She’s stoic as always, though he sees the tension in her shoulders. The slight wetness in her eyes.
“You’re my favourite,” he mouths to her as the rings spin around them.
“Come and find me,” she rushes out, her eyes frantic as she loses her cool demeanour. “Peter, promise me.”
“I will,” he replies, then, “I will. I’ll see you so soon.”
“I feel like I should mention that you both forget,” Strange says, his eyes about as kind as Peter has ever seen them but he still looks bored.
“ What ?”
“I’m sorry, Peter. This is how it has to be.”
Peter goes to move, to stop the spell for just a second to think. He’s been thinking about letting MJ go for too long - but not the memory of her. Not the time he looked over at her and his heart stuttered in his chest as she sent him a sleepy smile. Not the time she kissed him on the bridge. He’d keep the memories of her falling to her death if it meant he’d remember every time she looked at him like she loved him.
“Stop,” she says, her face stern but her hands are shaking. “Stay there, Peter.”
“MJ. I didn’t - this wasn’t supposed to be the way.”
“But it is,” she smiles sadly. “I won’t let you live your life on repeat for me.”
“Em.
“I don’t have much luck getting close to people,” she says, wiping her face with the back of her hand.
“But you were worth the risk. And you’ll be worth the risk next time. You’d be worth the risk every time.”
“MJ,” he cries. “I can’t do this without you.”
“You can -”
“I don’t want to. God, you’re the only person I want Michelle. How are - how am I supposed to go through with this knowing I might never see you again?”
“You were asked to save the world because life is unfair but you’re kind and you’re good and you’re everything the universe needs to survive. So, I have to let you go,” she sighs. “You have to let me let you go, Peter.”
“Michelle.”
“If we don’t find our way back,” she says, a sad smile on her face.
“Don’t, Em, please,” he begs, even though he knows she won’t listen to him because she always knows exactly what he needs.
“If we don’t,” she repeats, her voice shaking. “I love you. Right now, I love you right now.”
“I love you back.”
Ned is a traitor. They’ve only been friends for a couple of months, moving into an apartment together for the third year of college, both of them forgetting that housing was a thing they needed. And Peter likes him a lot. He’s funny, he likes Star Wars as much as him and he brought his lego collection like it’s no big deal.
But right now, Ned is a traitor. And Peter is manoeuvring his way around the party alone because he saw Ned slip out with a blonde twenty minutes ago. He could go home but there’s a loneliness to their apartment that he can’t figure out so he avoids it when he can. He’s not patrolling this weekend, trying to keep his schedule different so people can’t track him - though he will go out if there’s an emergency.
“Oooph.”
“Sorry,” he yelps, knocking into someone. The feeling of deja vu is so strong it almost knocks him fully to the ground.
“It’s alright,” she replies, already put together by the time he manages to stand up straight. When he looks at her he thinks he might never look away. The downturn of her mouth, the escaped curls framing her face, the beautiful glint in her eye. But it’s the familiarity that takes over him.
“You’re from the bakery!” he says, a level of awe in his voice that’s too strong seeing as he hasn’t seen this girl in years.
“What? Are you a stalker?” she asks, her eyes flicking over his face.
“No! Sorry, my er - colleague told me to visit Peter Pan’s a while back. Like three years or so? But he never said why,” Peter replies with a frown. He figures out how weird it is that he remembers her and his eyes widen as she raises her eyebrow at him.
“I made that much of an impression, huh?” she asks, cocky as anything but it makes him smile anyway. It’s a fair comment seeing as she only asked for his order and he got a takeaway coffee while wondering what on earth Strange was on about. She cocks her head at him when he stares at her a beat too long and it shifts the material of her dress.
“You still wear it,” he whispers, wanting to reach out and trace the broken petals on her necklace.
“Yeah,” she replies, her hand going to touch it like it’s automatic. "I -"
“MJ!” someone shouts and Peter looks around despite the fact that’s not his name. But as he looks back at her, she has her hand up in a give me a second motion.
“You’re MJ?”
“Only my friends call me MJ,” she says, her face settling in a beautiful disinterested glare. But he can hear the way her heart is beating, the way her eyes flick over across his body.
And he can smell the shampoo in her hair. The scent is so familiar it makes his chest ache even though he can’t place it. It would be weird to ask her if she uses the same laundry detergent that May uses after he already told her he remembers her from a summer job three years ago.
“And can I call you tomorrow?” he asks, the bravery flowing through his veins. It’s worth the risk when she smiles at him. He barely suppresses a groan when she bites her lower lip.
“I’m here with someone,” she says and if he knew her better he’d guess she was disappointed.
“Right. Yeah, of course,” he replies, running his hand through his hair. He doesn’t miss the way her breath catches and her eyes lock onto his arms. And the knowledge that she might like him in some way soothes the fact she’s here with some tool, but not that much.
“I should go,” she replies, looking over to the group on the dance floor. He wants to go with her, but he thinks that’s stepping on some toes.
“Sure, yeah.”
“See you around?” she asks though she’s already walking away. He watches her hair bounce in under the flashing lights so he sees when she turns back to look at him. It doesn't matter though, he didn’t even get her name.
“Michelle,” she gasps, her tongue tracing the roof of his mouth.
“Peter,” he replies, his hands against the back of her thighs so he can lift up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he backs her into the closet wall.
“It’s nice to see you again,” she mutters, pulling his lower lip between her teeth.
“So you forgive me for being a weirdo?” he laughs, one hand holding her up and the other moving her hair behind her ear so he can press his lips against her neck.
“I recognised you the second you walked in,” she starts, her words merging into a moan as he grinds against her.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I think about you every time I have a hazelnut latte,” she whispers, her eyes dark as she buries her hands in his hair.
“It was the worst coffee I’ve ever had,” he mumbles, his nose brushing against hers.
“I know. I was hoping you’d come back.”
“What, really?” he asks, his voice so high it breaks some of the tension in the closest but she pulls him back into it as her thumb traces down the back of his neck.
“Yeah. I wasn’t very good at getting close to people, so there was no way I would have ever asked you out,” she says, a shy smile forming on her face that makes him beam at her.
“Do you want to go out with me?” he asks, pressing his lips to hers as her smile gets wider.
“Michelle,” he says, moving against her, cataloguing every sound she makes. “Will you please go out with me?”
“ Peter .”
“Wait,” he says, his breath heavy against her. “Should I feel bad for the guy you came here with?”
“He’ll be fine,” she waves off, then, “I - there’s something about you that makes me feel calm.”
Her eyes move across him like she’s nervous he might think that’s weird as if his senses haven’t been seeking her out the moment he opened the door. His smile almost splits his face in half as she rolls her eyes at him.
“Don’t even think about bringing that up again.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Michelle. Hey, are we friends now?” he asks, moving back as she tries to kiss him.
“Are you infuriating with all your friends?” she laughs, leaning back against the wall.
“Only you,” he replies, his nose brushing hers and he watches as she pretends she’s not interested anymore.
“I don’t want to be your friend,” she whispers, her eyes following his lips carefully.
“No?” he asks, his mouth against her jaw and his fingers are going to leave bruises on her thighs with every breathy moan she lets out.
“Do you want to go out with me?” she asks and he barely knows her and he can’t see her face with how his mouth is pressed against her throat and yet he can picture her face perfectly. The nervousness she tries to hide and he’s desperate to know everything about her.
“Yes,” he replies, his lips heavy against hers. “Can I call you MJ now?”
“You can call me tomorrow,” she laughs, pulling him back to her and he lets himself get lost in the feel of her lips. Her tongue finding a home behind his teeth like this is something they’d practised.
“I thought you weren’t very good at getting close to people,” he murmurs as he tries to figure out how to remove himself from her so he can take her home.
“I’m not, but you’re worth the risk.”