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The universe was apparently breaking down. Merging with others universes. Something mind-bending like that.
Mind-fuckery, MJ called it when her dad wasn’t in earshot.
But it provided Ned with an excuse to do ‘portal practice’ when Strange wasn’t around.
“It’s not like I can make it worse, at this point,” he argued unconvincingly.
In MJ’s experience, things could always get worse.
But fuck it – it’s not like reality made sense anymore. Every day she woke up with the feeling that she had forgotten something. As Strange had explained it – poorly, she might add – they’d broken a great vessel. They were supposed to put the pieces back together. But there was always a shard missing, just out of sight.
Life had been simpler in the past. She’d loved her dad’s cooking and hated high school. She’d cared about college and she’d even considered something as lame as a career.
Then she’d become friends with Ned, and Ned turned out to be able to do magic.
And now they were sitting in his kitchen, celebrating getting into MIT, pretending that college still mattered.
“Let’s do some portalling,” Ned proposed. “Where do you want to go?”
MJ always felt a little unsteady when she jumped through space with Ned. Her friend had taken to it like a fish to water but she was still trying to get her bearings. She’d never admit it though.
“Can we do portal TV for tonight?”
Portal TV meant that Ned would open up random portals on pretty vistas around the universe for them to watch.
If Ned was disappointed with her choice, he did not show it.
Tonight, though, the vista was a little different.
MJ was making popcorn when he jumped through the portal. The guy in the spandex suit with the dark shock of hair. Dressed like Spider-Man.
“Oh wow, it’s great to see you guys again,” he said, barreling towards them, as if to give them a hug. As if they were good friends.
MJ held the bowl of popcorn in front of her like a weapon.
“Um. Who the hell are you?”
His shoulders sagged. “What? It’s me – it’s Peter. You know, Peter Three?”
Ned frowned. “Peter Three? What kind of name is that?”
“No, I’m Peter Parker, but you know, not your Peter Parker,” the older boy said with a crinkly smile that looked almost sad.
“Who’s Peter Parker?” Ned asked.
The guy in spandex stared at them in disbelief. “Who’s – guys, come on. You’re Peter’s best friends. Peter One? Don’t you remember? We all – we all teamed up to fight the bad guys. It’s only been a week.”
“We’ve never seen you before,” MJ interjected. “Granted, a lot of weird stuff has been going down lately, so…maybe you met another version of us?”
“Oh, like in the multiverse, you mean?” he said, brushing his forehead. “But that doesn’t make sense. Where’s your Peter? Where’s your Spider-Man?”
Ned shrugged. “Uh, he’s out there, fighting small crime in the city, I guess. But we don’t know him.”
The guy – Peter – frowned. “How can you not know him?”
MJ narrowed her eyes. “So, you’re the Spider-Man from another universe.”
Peter nodded. “I am. But I don’t get what happened here.”
“Well, our universe seems to be merging with other universes,” Ned tried to explain. “So I guess that’s why you could step through so easily.”
“Magical spells gone haywire,” MJ added, hugging the popcorn bowl to her chest. The Spider-Man suit was throwing her off. Making her feel uncomfortable. Like she was forgetting something again.
Peter shook his head. “So, all that effort we put in last week sending those bad guys back to their universes was kind of for nothing. Well, not for nothing I guess, since we cured them. But still. This feels sort of anticlimactic, doesn’t it?”
“Just so you know, we still have no clue what you’re talking about,” Ned said awkwardly. “And, uh, we’re not sure if you even are telling the truth.”
Peter heaved a sigh. “Well, last time I was here, your lola made me clean the spider webs from the ceiling.”
Ned grinned. “Oh. Yeah, she’d totally make you do that. Maybe you are telling the truth. Well, it’s nice to hear a version of us fought together.”
“Yeah. But I wish you could remember. This kind of sucks.”
MJ snorted. “Join the club.”
Ned brightened. “Hey. Yeah, join the club! We were gonna watch the portal, but we could watch an actual movie instead, couldn’t we? Do you like movies?”
MJ threw Ned a look. “Sure, let’s watch a movie with a complete stranger.”
Peter snorted. “Well, that is the whole point of cinema, isn’t it? You watch movies with strangers.”
She eyed him curiously. “You gonna sit around in that suit? It doesn’t look too comfortable.”
Peter looked down at himself self-consciously. “It’s actually all right. But I could go change. It’s just that I don’t know if I’d be able to get back here again.”
“You don’t have to change,” Ned said, dragging him by the arm towards the living room. “Don’t listen to MJ. She doesn’t trust people that much. It’s part of her sunny personality.”
MJ rolled her eyes, but she followed them closely.
“I have several weapons of mass destruction if you get any ideas,” she whispered as she passed Peter.
He smiled, brows drawn in confusion. He almost believed her.
“So, what’s it like to be Spider-Man?” Ned asked, showing him a seat on the couch.
A shadow crossed Peter’s face. He smiled, but the shadow didn’t go away.
“It’s kind of a thankless job sometimes, but it’s worth it. I make mistakes…but I also do some good, I like to think.”
“Bleeding heart, huh?” MJ drawled behind him.
Peter craned his neck to look at her. “Maybe. But you’d have to be, right? To go out there every day and try to fix the mess, even when it’s hopeless.”
Ned beamed. “For sure. I hope our Spider-Man is as principled as you.”
“He was. He is. You two ought to know that better than me…” Peter trailed off. “Sorry, it just feels so weird talking to you like we’re strangers. How are you guys not freaking out about all this?”
MJ shrugged. “Once you discover magic and multiverses are real, you kind of get used to it.”
He regarded her for a moment. She seemed entirely self-possessed. Like nothing could ever really catch her off-guard.
“I don’t know if I’d ever get used to it,” he said quietly.
“Well, it's not like we have much of a choice," she replied, voice tight.
Ned cleared his throat, doing his best to ignore the tension. “Well, we do have a choice in movies, at least. What do you guys say to a classic?”
Halfway through John Wick, Peter got the sense that he was being watched. She snuck glances at him when she thought he couldn’t tell.
She was looking at him as if he were wreckage dredged up from the bottom of the sea, as if she might find something there that belonged to her.
He sort of knew the feeling.
Next time Ned opened a portal in his kitchen, Peter showed up wearing casual clothes. It made her feel a little better. He wasn’t a reminder of anything anymore. He was just an older guy who was about to graduate from MIT.
He could give them all the useful intel. At least that’s why Ned kept inviting him over.
MJ drilled him about the classes and the campus, but always keeping a sort of professional distance.
When she told him she wanted to go in for media studies, he smiled.
“What’s so funny?”
He shook his head. “You just don’t seem…the media type?”
MJ raised an eyebrow. “I’m good with all kinds of media. I like to investigate stuff. I have several murder boards at home.”
“Murder boards,” he repeated, unsure.
“Yeah, you know, for unsolved murders? Pretty sure I’m on to something with at least one of them.”
Peter chuckled. “I can definitely believe that.”
“So this is what it feels like to fly,” Ned panted, struggling to remain vertical. He was still dizzy and more than overwhelmed by the ride down the neighborhood block.
Peter had offered to swing him on his web.
MJ had watched from the roof critically.
He turned to her now, having landed gracefully by Ned’s side.
“You wanna try?” he asked, extending his hand.
MJ pursed her lips. “No thanks. I’m not a fan of flying.”
“It’s not really flying. It’s like…riding a motorcycle, only a little faster.”
MJ snorted. “I don’t like motorcycles either. I prefer to watch.”
Peter ran a hand through his hair. “It looks kind of silly, doesn’t it?”
“It’s not that. You move differently from the other Spider-Man. I’ve seen him on the streets. He’s a lot more reckless. You’re careful.”
Peter lowered his head self-consciously. “Thanks, I guess.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous.”
“No, yeah. Of course.”
MJ leaned against the parapet. From up here, the faint, pulsing tears in the fabric of the universe looked like frozen flights of birds.
“You said we were friends with him. Our Spider-Man,” she says quietly. “Why doesn’t he just…drop by? Say hello or something.”
Peter leaned against the low wall next to her. “I – I don’t know. I guess he’s being cautious.”
MJ glanced at him. “He’s not ‘cautious’ out there when he’s fighting criminals.”
He let out a slow breath. “I guess we all have different people inside of us, don’t we?”
She said nothing to that, because she wasn’t sure how many people she had inside of her.
But it was nice sitting here with him, thinking about a version of herself that could be whole.
Hopping through universes was not exactly risk-free, but it had become inevitable at this point. When Ned asked to see Peter’s version of MIT, he firmly refused. He didn’t want them to see his world.
“Why not?” MJ asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Because it’s …not as nice as your world. You guys had those Aviators, or whatever you call them.”
“Avengers.”
“Yeah, well, you had way more heroes cleaning up the streets.”
But MJ wasn’t swayed by his excuse. She never quite accepted the limits imposed by others.
Next time he showed up in Ned’s kitchen, she jumped through the portal just as he was stepping through.
He wasn’t fast enough to catch her.
But he turned and ran after her.
He managed to grab her arm before she got too far. He drew her towards him in the yellow pool of the streetlight.
“Hey…hey, don’t do that.”
The cityscape in the distance didn’t look all that different from hers. There were the same pulsing scars in the sky too.
“Why not? What are you hiding?”
Peter looked down at her with a pained expression. “Nothing. I just don’t think it’s safe.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know, but you don’t belong here.”
MJ recoiled. “Why not? It’s a world like any other.”
“No, it’s my world. And bad things tend to happen in my world.”
“Like what?”
He didn’t say anything. She asked him again, but he wouldn’t answer. His face was kind, but shuttered. His kindness always rubbed her the wrong way, because it wasn’t a mask, because it was genuine and, therefore, difficult to crack through.
He just stood there, like a helpless effigy, a reminder of something she once had.
She pushed past him angrily. She stepped back into Ned’s kitchen.
“You can stay in your world then.”
She was walking through Kamar-Taj with Ned. It was sort of like going to summer school abroad: classes during the day in Nepal, portalling to Queens in the evening.
MJ wasn’t allowed to participate in any of the magic-based activities (which was pretty much all of them), but she could watch. She could nurse her hidden envy without giving herself away.
They were drifting through one of the walled gardens when Ned stopped and drew a portal in the air.
“Sorry about this, but he really wants to talk.”
“Who?”
She knew better than to ask.
Peter stepped through the portal onto the paved courtyard. He looked at her nervously.
MJ kicked Ned in the shoulder. “That was a jerk move, Leeds.”
“It’s my fault,” Peter said, coming forward. “I sort of twisted his arm. Can we please talk? I’d like to explain things.”
MJ looked away uncomfortably. There were a few students watching them from a safe distance. They were picking the bright orange marigolds from the flower beds.
She signaled to him with her head and walked away.
Peter was smart enough to follow.
They wandered past the flower beds and into the orchard. MJ kept her eyes in the distance.
“I haven’t been entirely honest with you guys.”
“What a shock,” she muttered.
“I kind of – I kind of lied about being Spider-Man.”
MJ stopped dead in her tracks. “What?”
“No, I mean, I am Spider-Man in my universe, but…I don’t really do the job anymore. Not like I used to. I’ve kind of quit.”
MJ frowned. “Why?”
Peter sat down beneath a juniper tree. The pale blue berries smelled like rain.
“It’s a really depressing story, actually.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” she said, but her voice betrayed her. She wanted to know. And he wouldn’t deny her.
She sat down next to him and he told her about Gwen. About how he couldn’t save her and what that did to him.
“That’s why I didn’t want you to see my world. I didn’t want you to see me like a failure. Because I am a failure. Hell, I’m not even graduating from MIT. I dropped out my second year. Some bleeding heart, huh.”
He laughed sadly, wiping his eyes almost reflexively. They were still dry.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“I’m the one who should be sorry. I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of. I’m the definition of fuck-up.”
MJ leaned closer to him. “You’re not a fuck-up.”
He smiled. “Thanks for saying that.”
“I mean it. I don’t say stuff I don’t mean.”
“I know. Teaming up with you guys, spending time with you…it made me want to try again. Seeing other versions of myself fight against all odds brought it all back to me.”
His voice carried so much wistfulness in it that it made her shiver. Or maybe it was just Nepal weather.
He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “And saving you. That was – that was kind of cathartic.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were falling off a ledge, falling from a great height. Just like Gwen. And I caught you. I caught you this time. I had you in my arms, and you were safe,” he said, looking down at his hands, as if he were still holding her.
MJ waited a moment. Then she placed her hand shyly over his. “You saved me?”
He stood very still, with her hand in his. “I know it sounds stupid –”
“It doesn’t.”
He looked up at her. Their faces were slightly too close for comfort. For a moment, neither knew what to do.
Then Peter shifted and her fingers slid from his grasp.
“There’s something else I should tell you. Peter…your Peter, the one you don’t remember. I went to see him. I asked him why he hadn’t tried to contact you. And he said he needed you to forget. He said he didn’t want to ruin your lives again. He wants you to be happy.”
MJ looked away embarrassed. She felt angry for something she had not even been allowed to choose. There was something hollow about this anger too. Because she didn’t know this other Peter Parker that was supposed to be hers. She was just supposed to accept these dislocations of memory. These absences that left nothing in their wake, not even pain.
“Okay,” she said numbly. “Okay.”
They sat under the juniper tree, nursing invisible wounds.
Wong had allowed them to visit one of the library rooms. Ned had to consult his curated list of “beginner” textbooks. Anything else would be considered “snooping”, and he’d looked straight at MJ when he’d said that.
“Why does he think I’ll snoop?”
“Maybe he’s seen your murder boards,” Peter joked.
“Like he can stop me.”
Ned shook his head. “Are you kidding? Wong has eyes everywhere.”
MJ sat on the table with her legs crossed. “Ten bucks says I can sneak into another room without him noticing.”
Peter chuckled. She liked the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he looked at her. “Only ten? You’re selling yourself short.”
“Bet you an extra ten you won’t be able to find me either,” she said, getting up, quiet as a cat.
“You’re on.”
Ned followed their exchange, slightly puzzled. He didn’t quite know the rules of this game, but they felt familiar.
It’s true; she was small and light on her feet. She knew how to evade notice. She was a slip of a girl, quiet and determined.
But he had become used to her, or rather used to seeking her out, reaching for her as a sort of lucky charm.
He went by instinct. His spider senses were alert to her presence.
He dropped down without warning behind an old cabinet and found her in the small opening in the wall.
Her amber skin shone in the dark. She pressed a finger to her lips.
Don’t snitch, she mouthed.
He was inordinately pleased he’d managed to find her. He crouched next to her, their heads bent towards each other.
He could hear Wong’s voice in the distance.
“I think we’re gonna get caught,” he rasped, looking in her eyes.
“Yes,” she said, looking back in his.
But they didn’t really run. They stood there and waited for Wong to find them.
They were watching “portal TV”. Ned was showing off his new skills. He kept switching the vista, casting different spells, shifting the scenery, swiping it back and forth as if he were flipping through photos on his phone.
MJ stared at the moving worlds until her eyes hurt.
She said, more to herself, “I kind of hate how you’re both mini-gods.”
Peter was the first to look at her. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “You can do all this amazing stuff. Meanwhile, I can’t even time the pop tarts in the toaster.”
Ned nudged her playfully. “Come on, your pop tarts aren’t that bad.”
She nudged him back. “I’m not special like you guys. I don’t have any powers.”
“That’s not true. You are special,” Peter interjected.
MJ raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Really.”
“Yeah, I mean, I’ve never met anyone so…” he trailed off awkwardly.
“So what?”
“Outspoken?”
She chuckled. “Nice save.”
“But seriously, you’re…” Peter began again, trying to find the right words. But he couldn’t really go on when Ned’s grandmother walked into the room with a batch of dream cakes.
“So pretty,” the grandmother murmured, staring into the portal.
Peter looked at MJ for a moment. She didn’t look back.
Beautiful worlds passed him by blindly.
When he held her in his arms again, he was bringing her down on his web from the rooftops into the street.
They were in his city. He was showing her his favorite part of town.
He noticed how scared she was to look down when they were gliding through the air. He held her tighter, whispered in her hair, hey, it’s okay, I won’t let you fall, and the promise carried with it a sort of unbreakable certainty.
She clung to his neck. She leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes.
What he didn’t know was that she was more nervous about being this close to him, almost skin to skin, listening to his heartbeat through the suit.
When it started to rain, he apologized, like he was to blame for this summer gale, like he had made the skies darken so quick. He swung them into a sheltered alley, dropping them gently through the clotheslines, wet cotton caressing their limbs, not letting them go completely, keeping them suspended.
Rivers of rain washed the bricks and the gutters, and he looked down at her, still apologetic, still responsible.
They had dropped to the ground, but it was hard to notice the difference.
MJ raised her head. Her breath came in short puffs. She kept her arms around his neck.
He kept staring at her lips.
MJ parted them shyly, waiting.
He bent his head, locks of hair brushing against her forehead.
“We – we can’t.”
“Why?” she asked before she could regret it.
“He’s gonna come back to you someday,” he spoke against her lips.
“And I’m just supposed to wait for him?” she asked, loudly as the rain fell around them.
“You love him,” he said, like a man drowning.
“I don’t know him.”
“You will.”
“I don’t want to.”
He tried to turn his head away, but she framed it between her hands, palms on his cheeks.
“Peter. There’s only you.”
“No, there never was just me. Peter doesn’t even feel like my name sometimes. I’m barely the third.”
“You’re an idiot,” MJ spat. “I’m standing here telling you I want you, whatever number you happen to be.”
“That’s how you feel right now.”
“There’s only now.”
“No –”
“Yes! Isn’t that what the multiverse is? A constant, intertwining present? A simultaneous event?” she asked, tears and rain melting at the corners of her eyes. “Everything is happening everywhere right now.”
Peter exhaled with a bitter, helpless laugh. She was so beautiful. How could he resist her when she talked about simultaneous events?
He grabbed her face and crushed her mouth against his, like two imploding worlds crashing into each other. He kissed her, desperate and hungry and deluded, still guilty, guiltier than before somehow, but craving the culpability, losing himself in the taste of her lips and the rain.
And MJ – his MJ in this eternal present – kissed him back.
I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, he thought achingly, rhythmically, as he slid his tongue against hers, as he ran his fingers through her tangled hair, as he lifted her into his arms and she drew her knees around his waist, giving him more than he deserved.
The weight of the interdiction felt so sweet. Like cheating death and resurrecting ghosts, like loving someone from another world.