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MJ was six and it is well past her bed time, but she’d promised and bet Gayle that she could make it midnight, and she had! She was on her dad’s shoulders. Her Aunt Anna’s entire neighbourhood were cramped into the garden, swaying and cheering. She didn’t know the words to the song they were singing, but it was hard to hear them over the sound of the fireworks anyway. Gayle is on the ground, holding hands with her mom. MJ thought it was the first time she’s seen her sister smile since she’s turned thirteen. Lately, she hasn’t really seen much of Gayle at all, to be fair. Mostly it’s been her bedroom door that’s been shut in her face anytime MJ tried to play with her. None of that moodiness is in her sister’s face tonight though, only a huge smile as she sang out of tune with their mom.
Her dad tipped his head back to look at her. His eyes are a little hazy. The words he’s singing are a little slower than everyone else’s, drawn out and sounding like he did when he came back late from his work's Christmas Party and her mom guided him to bed, leading him away from the wrapping that MJ was helping her with (the only reason her mom had let her stay up so late after her bedtime).
The fireworks were loud, and she could see the reflection of them in her dad’s dark eyes.
“For auld lang syne, my dear.” Her dad sang to her, shaking her leg at the last two words. MJ grinned down at him. She still doesn’t know the song. Usually, when she doesn’t know something, she’s incessant about finding the answer. Tonight, she doesn’t care that she doesn’t know. Everyone is just happy, and that’s more than enough to satisfy her curiosity.
“For the sake of auld lang syne!”
MJ stood in the garden, bundled up in a coat and scarf with a trash bag in one hand helping her Aunt Anna collect the rubbish from the night before. Inside the house, her dad is peeling potatoes, her mom is folding the sheets they’d slept in and Gayle has her face pressed into the phone she got for Christmas.
Despite how cold it is outside; Anna has all the windows open. MJ doesn’t understand that. Her mom was always telling them off for having the heating on and their windows open or for holding the door open too long.
It all felt normal. Like any regular day.
It was a new year – the calendar in Anna’s kitchen fresh and unmarked, but nothing was different. The magic of last night happened because the bottles and wrappers are on the ground. She’s picking them up.
“Aunt Anna?” MJ asked as she bent to pick up another streamer that had been trodden into the wet, dewy grass.
“Yes dear?” Anna replied. She groaned quietly as she bent to pick up some debris from the fireworks, her free hand going to rest on the small of her back. MJ’s eyes widened and she raced over the small distance of the yard to pick it up for her. Anna patted her shoulder in thanks.
“Why are you letting all the heat out?” She asked, gesturing back up to the house as she echoed words she’d heard time and time again from her mom.
“It’s something I do. Let the old year out and let the new year in. It’s a silly little tradition, but my mother did it, and so did her mother.” Anna explained. MJ turned to look up at the house, pursing her lips together, remembering how it’d looked in the evening through her tired eyes. Fireworks from a few blocks away illuminating it and lighting up her room when she’d crawled into bed.
She supposed she understood wanting to let that in. It had felt magical after all.
MJ was sixteen and smiling. Her hands feeling a little fuzzy and her body warm like she’s wrapped up in a blanket. Betty is bordering on tipsy after one too many wine coolers. The liquid in her cup spilling out over the edges as she clapped her hands together as the numbers on screen counted down.
The evening has mellowed Flash enough that he doesn’t care about the droplets splashing out on to the leather couch, his arm wrapped around Ned’s shoulders as they shout along with the numbers.
Now at that age where they’re starting to find plans away from their families, getting some choice in the traditions they want to make and the way they want to start the year off. They’d commandeered a room in the middle of Flash’s house, a much fancier party going outside the doors, but it was so easy to forget that. The room warm and bright, filled with vibrant jubilation as her classmates – her friends prepare to ring in the New Year together.
MJ thought this felt an appropriate way to start 2018. Reflective of the growth she’d made in the last year. She was no longer on the side-lines, only ever observing, but she’d taken a step towards being more involved. Been forced to let people know her more so that they’d follow her lead in AcaDec, and the rest had spiralled from there. She’d made more friends than just Flash, now she was in a room with them that was too warm with the Ball Drop playing on the TV and her cup raised high.
The countdown reached ‘one’, and the shouts started. Flash pulled Ned’s head towards him, placing a wet kiss to his temple while Betty spun and grabbed MJ into tight hug. The crowd on the couch stood, and there were arms wrapped around bodies, cups being knocked over, but there were so many smiles and laughs.
Somewhere in the house, the adults were singing. She knew the words by this point. Outside, the fireworks had started. The suburbs that Flash lived in having much more impressive displays than the ones she’d been used to at Anna’s place.
Slowly the celebration turns back into a party again, Auld Lang Syne being drowned out by the bass of Flash’s playlist. The display in the skies outside still ongoing and drawing MJ’s attention. Eventually, MJ pulled away from the crowd and walked over to the window, opening it so that she could hear the fizzle more clearly as the fireworks shot into the sky. The air cold, but not unpleasant against her skin.
MJ watched as green, gold and red littered the sky. The sound of her friends behind her making a nice chorus to accompany the percussion of the colourful explosions.
Someone brushed by her shoulder. Their forearm resting on the open window sill next to hers. MJ glanced to the side to see Peter next to her, eyes fixed on her face with his dopey smile that she’d started to grow so fond of. They’re so close that she thought the hairs on her arm felt like they were stood on their ends. It might have been the cold, but with how much warmer her face suddenly felt, she didn’t think that was possible.
“You’re letting all the heat out.” He teased when their eyes met. His cheeks were flushed. Rosy from the warmth of the room and the alcohol that they’d all managed to slip past their parents’ notice.
“Or am I letting the new year in?” MJ replied, looking at him sideways. Peter didn’t reply, just smiling at her still and tilting his head like he was keen to hear an explanation. Not mocking or confused. Just listening.
Whatever happened to him at Homecoming, Peter had been around more. In school and in AcaDec. He’d started spending time with them outside of class, flaking on the rare occasion, but he wasn’t a person they talked about in concept anymore but rather actually present.
With that, MJ had gotten to know him more. In turn, peter had gotten to know her as well. He’d quickly realised that behind every blunt remark was usually more of a story. If someone bothered to ask about it – he'd learnt it was her litmus test.
He’d started to pass it with flying colours.
“It’s something my Aunt does. Opens all the windows for the day.” She clarified after clearing her throat and looking back out to the sky. The frequency of the fireworks starting to lessen. Frustrating that it happened to her when she needed something else to focus on other than the way that despite the view outside and the commotion behind them, Peter’s attention seemed to remain solely on her. Lest she do something ridiculous like turn her head and catch his lips in a quick kiss.
Something she could easily pass off as a tipsy mistake. Something she could blame on being wrapped up in the atmosphere and the time of year. Something she wished she wouldn’t have to lie about her reasons for doing it.
It was a little overwhelming to consider that this was something else she would be bringing into the new year with her. Not bad, just... unexpected.
“My aunt makes us deep clean the apartment on New Years.” He said. MJ turned back to look at him. “Can’t bring last year’s clutter with us when it could be the perfect way to start someone else’s year off. She’ll have me up at first light.” He explained, his words starting to get faster the more he talked. “It’s why I haven’t drank. I’m not-… I haven’t been judging. Just can’t leave May to do it alone, you know?” Peter laughed awkwardly, the hand that was next to her arm lifting to rub at his neck.
She missed it’s warmth next to her.
“That was a lot. Sorry. You probably didn’t want to-”
“I liked hearing it.” MJ replied, cutting him off. “Do you have any other traditions for New Year’s?”
Peter’s smile returned. His cheeks still burning pink and his eyes still on her. Another fizzle and bang sounded from outside. Gold scattered amongst the stars. MJ only knew the colour because she caught sight of it in the reflection of Peter’s eyes.
MJ was seventeen and it was the first New Year’s Eve that she thought she could solidly define as quiet. They’re at Flash’s house again this year. This year, they’ve mingled more with the adults. Partially because she’s still grounded for her night at the Statue of Liberty helping Spider-Man, her dad not wanting MJ too far from his sight.
The year ahead of them filled with so much that it felt so worthy of celebrating even if she was under strict supervision; graduation, college, their future in their very palms. Flash and Ned just two of the people that she got to share that with and wanted to start that year with, but in a room full of people MJ felt claustrophobic. Her eyes scanning the crowd for something that she couldn’t put her finger on.
As people started to reminisce about the year gone, a lump formed in her throat. Inexplicable and immoveable. Ned’s pinched face told her that he was feeling just the same. The year had happened but it felt as though someone else had lived it for them and all they had were second-hand stories. It felt like they’d blipped all over again and were left trying to catch up with the world.
They hadn’t blipped though, and it seemed they weren’t the only ones effected. Just the worst off for it. Everyone talking about big events from the year. Spider-Man was mentioned, he’d caused trouble, become divisive more than he’d ever been, but no one could explain why. They all waved it away with a ‘it was over the summer’, like it was years ago rather than months.
Eventually, it became too much and both she and Ned slipped out from their parents’ watchful eyes and crept up to Flash’s balcony, laying down to look up at the sky. The both of them wrapped up in their scarves and coats – not a single drink passed between them.
No wine coolers or hard ciders that they’ll cringe about drinking so much of the next day.
“I’m really excited for MIT.” Ned murmured though his voice didn’t convey the enthusiasm that they should.
“Me too.” She said. Her words muffled from the sleeves of her coat. Her chin perched on her knees and her arms wrapped tightly around her.
MJ knew the words were true. They’ve both talked endlessly throughout the winter holidays how excited they were. The belated arrival of their letters had been a gift that no present under the tree could have compared to.
She was still excited. She had a spreadsheet from Gayle about what she needed to buy for her dorm. She had facebook groups and message boards for incoming freshman. She’d watched wannabe StudyTubers talk about their daily lives on campus to get the most authentic view of it as possible, already with a list in her mind about the bars, cafes and libraries to avoid.
She was battling Flash for Valedictorian, and with everything she’d saved from working at Peter Pan’s, she should have enough to join Ned, Flash and Betty on a trip somewhere for Spring Break.
It was meant to be a good year.
However, it was the first year she’s felt as though she’s not bringing something forward with her. This time, instead, it feels as like 2024 has ripped something from her and refusing to give it back. It’s hoarding it, and MJ has to go forward not knowing what exactly that meant for her.
As the clock struck midnight, the sky set alight as it always did. The colours and patterns like cracks in the sky that gave her a strange sense of deja-vu. Neither she nor Ned cheered to the sky like they did other years, instead, unfurling and wrapping their arms around each other.
Shoulder to shoulder with their heads bent together.
“Happy New Year.” She whispered to him.
“Happy New Year, MJ.” He said back to her.
A beat.
Nothing came except the crack of another firework being let off.
For some reason, MJ was expecting a third response.
MJ’s bedroom was wide open. Her heater is off, and she’s bundled under her duvet to fend off the cold. Her mom thought she was crazy for how she’d embraced Anna’s tradition, but there was something about it she liked. Perhaps, it was the excuse to stay curled up in bed and lay with her strange mood that hadn’t shifted even after a night’s sleep.
However, even a day spent horizontal wasn’t doing anything to make her feel better. The clutter of her room serving to make her feel worse. Her bookshelves that had some inventive ways of stacking to hold all her books, her desk chair that held the small heap of barely worn clothes from over Christmas, all making her itch. The restlessness overwhelming her until she was forced out from under her covers and started to tidy her room.
Hidden under the sleeve of a shirt, was her broken necklace. Her heart in her throat when she realised how precariously it was balanced on the edge of her desk. The remaining petals already brittle that the fall would have been enough to break the thing completely.
The thought alone had tears springing to her eyes. Ones she forced to blink back for how ridiculous it felt to be crying over a necklace – one she couldn’t even remember buying in Europe. It was just a souvenir to remind her of the memories – so long as she had those it shouldn’t matter if it got broken. Except--
MJ blew out a breath, fastening the chain around her neck. It was the safest place for it to be until she found a better home for when she wasn’t wearing it.
Thinking that being back in home after spending the term at college, paired with the melancholy of not even in the city center to enjoy the New Year, but rather trapped in the suburbs would possible exacerbate the feeling of nostalgia and melancholy that had swept over Ned and MJ the year before, the three of them; Ned, Flash and MJ decided to give the annual Thompson New Year’s Eve party a miss that year.
Instead, they headed towards Chinatown.
MJ had staved off her wallowing last year by doing something – it’d only been cleaning her room but it’d helped. She’d felt a little more re-centred.
She figured they could all use a reminder that New Year’s Eve was meant to be good. It was meant to be something they were excited for, not wary about indescribable feelings of displacement. So, they’d agreed to volunteer somewhere for the night. Ned knew of a shelter and felt strongly about them offering their time there though he wouldn’t say why and they wouldn’t press for a reason.
They were hosting a party for volunteers and visitors. A buffet table, a donation drive and collection point, some music. From what she understood, it wasn’t dramatically different to any other day at the shelter – they didn’t have the funding to be go overboard, but the important thing was that they were open and there were people around so that no one had to be alone if they didn’t want to be. A small little community of people trying to make what might have been a lonely night just a little better for each other.
MJ didn’t see fireworks that night. She missed the countdown to midnight, stuck in a backroom trying to lift and carry a few more crates through for the party. She wasn’t alone. Rochelle, the site manager who didn’t look much older than MJ, was in the back with her.
She was the interim manager. She’d been volunteering here since her freshman year of High School, and had worked her way to a paid position as the prior manager’s assistant unsure if she wanted to head to college.
May Parker had died and Rochelle knew the building, knew the team and most of all, knew May’s filing system. She’d stepped into the role with great ease. It was apparently still only a temporary thing but from what MJ understood, it was taking a while to have someone approved by the board.
“Does it have to be a temporary thing?” MJ asked as she heaved another pack of bottles. Her arms strained. “It sounds like you’ve done good work in the last year.”
Rochelle waved the comment away. “Only with help from everyone else. A lot of it has been just implementing May’s leftover plans. We need someone who knows what they’re doing for the next financial year.” She explained, concern crossing her face immediately when she saw her MJ was carrying the pack of water. “No, no. You’re not lifting it like that.” She tutted, glaring until MJ set the stack down. “Take the chips out and I’ll get Peter to do the heavier stuff. He knows how to lift with his knees.”
MJ flushed, feeling a little embarrassed. “I could carry it. It’s busy out there-“
“It’s about doing it safely. Sorry, it’s... do enough of those stupid training modules and it sticks in your head.” Rochelle chuckled, patting her arm before leaning out and calling to someone. “Go on out.”
MJ took the bag of chips out with her, passing by a boy she presumed was Peter. He kept his head down as he walked through the hall. Something about him making her stop and look back to follow him with her eyes, only to find that he was doing exactly the same.
Recognition briefly passing over him before he nodded to her politely in a greeting. MJ didn’t know where she knew him from, but he felt familiar. The question on the tip of her tongue but before she could ask it, he was turning back to continue on towards the store cupboard to help Rochelle.
MJ didn’t see him for the rest of the night after that.
She couldn’t pretend that she wasn’t mildly disappointed by that fact. Left wondering if New Year’s Eve had simply lost some of it’s shine now that she’d gotten older.
MJ was twenty-two and a familiar mop of brown hair had just entered her apartment. She cast a look over to her roommate and was unsurprised to see him staring right back at her in a challenge. MIT had made them close but transferring to ESU and living together in the city they knew as home had cemented something between them that hadn’t been there before.
She wished she could blame it on the beer, but she knew that to get Peter here now, Ned’s meddling must have started a while back. He had already tried to trick them into spending time alone, ditching their group plans at the last minute and leaving MJ to decide if she was petty enough to cancel.
She never was, but she was never brave enough to address the issue head on either. Bailing out as soon as they got close to it and leaving them in this awkward stagnant place that wasn’t similar to anything they used to be and was nowhere near what she thought she wanted them to be.
MJ hadn’t intentionally not invited Peter. He knew about the party, he knew when to come, what to bring and wear. She was just under the impression that he wouldn’t follow through.
For once, the idea pleased her. The countdown, the alcohol, the wistful feeling that came with welcoming a new year, the weird nostalgia she felt for the one just gone by, it would be too much if she added Peter into the mix. She might do something dumb – in what way, she wasn’t entirely sure.
The whole night she felt too aware of where he was in the room. How close he was to her without even turning to see, able to pick his laughter out from across the small space. A sound she’d once forgotten and hadn’t realised she’d missed with how forced their conversations had felt the last few months.
There were fifteen minutes until midnight and Peter was stood right behind her. They were back to back, she could feel the warmth of him radiating through her shirt. The alcohol in her system making her feel brave in all the wrong ways.
MJ could see it in her head; the clock would strike twelve, people would cheer. Couples would kiss and she would turn, grab Peter and let them be apart of that number too.
It was a very dumb idea, because they were barely friends. They’d barely talked about anything. They went in circles if they tried. They couldn’t kiss, but she wanted to.
She really, really wanted to. She blamed it on the residual feelings that had been shot back into the forefront of her memory so recently.
Pinpointing the blame didn’t help wash away the feeling though.
Ten minutes to go and she was still planning how she would do it, unable to move away from him. Each time she stepped away from him, it was as though they were tethered and he would move to talk to a group of people directly in her eyeline or he would be pressed to her side, or behind her again.
It was too much.
She needed some air and space to get her head in order before she could rejoin the festivities, so she excused herself to her room.
Her door did little to muffle the noise of the party and the humid warmth had managed to seep through the cracks so her room wasn’t all that much cooler than the lounge, but at least she was alone.
MJ took a few breaths, dragging her hand down her face and doing her best not to wonder how things might have been different if Peter had just told them who he was that fateful day. What might have changed if they’d figured it out sooner or if that even mattered.
The clock was ticking and she had a decision to make. The year was up. A new beginning was upon her – in many ways, and she had a choice about what to do with it because they couldn’t keep going the way they were.
Ned and Peter had managed to find their stride. They weren’t as close as they’d once been, but they were working on it. Ned starting to confide in Peter. MJ knew that her indecisiveness about her feelings on their old friend frustrated him a little, unsure of where they all stood and refusing to be the go-between much longer.
MJ herself deserved to know what she was doing. She should be able to decide if she could trust Peter, should give herself that peace rather than constantly bouncing between shoulds and wants and what ifs. She had to decide now if she was bringing him into the New Year with her, and actually try – voicing all her problems no matter how hard it was, if she was going to address all the things that were stopping them being friends or if she was going to leave it behind and move on.
Then, as if conjured from her thoughts, Peter hurriedly opened her bedroom door, eyes wide and his cheeks red. Behind him she could hear the thing that had brought him to her:
“Six! Five!”
Wrapped up in her own head, she’d nearly missed the New Year.
“Four!”
“I-...” He started to say. He swallowed.
MJ didn’t move from her bed, knowing that the awkward shuffle past him and into the lounge would be enough to send her spiralling and have Ned worrying if he caught sight of her.
“Three!”
She would just wait it out.
MJ tried to wave him away with a small smile, silently trying to tell him she’d be out in a moment but he stayed put. Taking a breath and forcing her to wonder if this was just as hard on him too.
“I didn’t want you to be alone.” He said, walking forward and sitting next to her on her bed.
“Two!”
“One!”
A single moment of silence.
MJ let out a breath as the world exploded around them. Fireworks starting to echo put across the city. Cheers erupting from the lounge and from the buildings above, below and side them.
Inside her room it was quiet, Peter pressed to her side as they sat shoulder go shoulder.
“Happy New Year.” She said to him softly, glancing sideways to look at him, seeing that he was staring at her. Or more specifically – her lips and knowing that yes. This evening had just been as hard for him.
Peter leant into her space and for a moment she thought he might kiss her.
For a second, a younger version of herself wanted him to if she was honest with herself, she wanted him to. Not so ignorant to believe that all changes they’d undergone while away from each other were a bad thing. She wasn’t blind to how he’d filled out and grown more confident. Wasn’t immune to the broad shoulders or trim waist that accompanied his newfound attitude.
He didn’t kiss her though.
Instead, he just reached for the latch of her window and popped it open. The sounds from outside getting louder as she could now hear the fizz as fireworks from nearby roofs were set off.
Her heart thundering in her chest as she realised what he’d remembered. Her room feeling so much warmer despite the now open window.
“Happy New Year, MJ.” He replied as he sat back down. She smiled at him, watching as he forced his eyes up to hers, not bothering to look sheepish at the fact she’d caught where he was looking.
He cheeks were still red. As were the tips of his ears that were cradled by the curls tucked around them. His hair was longer now.
She had go admit she liked it.
“What’s your New Year’s resolution?” MJ asked suddenly, needing something to fill the silence because she still hadn’t made her decision, though she could not overlook what it meant for Peter to have pulled himself away from a party just to ensure she wouldn’t be alone when the clock struck twelve.
“To try and make amends.” He replied with a lopsided smile. It wasn’t an apology. She wasn’t really sure she would ever get one of those that felt right after what he’d done, but it felt like a start.
MJ is twenty-six and she loved her friends. She loved her friends so much.
She felt too old to be doing this. She had a cat at home. She had a child – a small ball of fluff that relied on her to feed him, even though she was fairly certain that Felix could easily survive without her because he was sent to keep her in check, not the other way round - She couldn’t be out this late when her cat needed her.
Except. She was.
She was out and Felix was going to be so angry that she woke him up by arriving home, but she couldn’t not be out tonight.
It was New Year’s Eve.
It was the best night of the year, and she loved her friends. These people who had wormed their way into her heart and settled there. With all their quirks from Flash’s continual unlearning of luxury as he distanced himself more from his family and how ridiculous he often sounded due to that, to Ned’s loyalty that felt so unearned at times with how readily he gave it to her, to Betty’s constant prying and to Peter’s-... Well.
Peter.
They were stupid and made her so happy.
“You make us happy too.” A voice beside her said. MJ blinking as she realised she’d been saying so much of that aloud. “But please don’t cry again.”
“I don’t cry.” She huffed. Peter snorting and sarcastically agreeing with her.
MJ scoffed.
“You’re normally the one stumbling home.” She said, her head tipped back to the sky and leaning too much into Peter. “Because of-“ She threw one hand out to do his signature hand movement.
Peter snorted, adjusting hid grip on her waist. “Oh, she’s got jokes, huh?”
“I’m very funny.”
“I know.” He replied. Through the haze of the world, he was looking at her, a fond smile on his face. His lips were dry and chapped from the cold but his cheeks were rosy and his eyes were warm, fixed on her like there wasn’t a mosaic of sparkles fading in and out of the sky above them.
He was looking at her like she was the only thing in the world. Grinning like she hadn’t drank too much and forced them to leave the party early – one of the few times he’d managed to spend time with her in recent weeks. Grinning as if her cat wasn’t going to chase him around her apartment, trying to pounce on his feet like a mad thing.
She really, really loved him.
When she woke up the next morning, her head was pounding. The inside of her mouth dry but not tasting so foul, that she realised she’d at least had enough sense to brush her teeth.
Her curtains are drawn shut, but her room is cold outside of the duvet. Fresh air wafting in and making her feel more centered in her body even if she’d much prefer to be out of it with how her stomach was rolling as she tried to sit up.
The window was open.
On her bedside was water and an aspirin. A post-it note laid on top of her charging phone.
I really, really love you too.
MJ was thirty and her husband was bleeding in their bathtub. He looked a lot younger than he was with how his brows scrunch together as he watched her enter the bathroom with a fresh towel and a slice of leftover pizza from her order earlier in the night.
He looked like he did when he was in his early twenties, and didn’t know how to juggle it all. Torn between two lives – then and now – as he tried to get to know people he’d let down and walked away from, feeling as though he was somehow disappointing them constantly by not being the boy they’d once knew.
“Why are you home?” He asked. His voice full of some much regret that anyone might think he wasn’t happy to see her. He took the food nonetheless.
MJ using it as a distraction to check on the stitches he’d given himself. He’d been doing this long enough that she could trust his handiwork, but that didn’t stop her worry.
“I didn’t want you to be alone.” She answered simply, because the holidays had been hard. Not simply because they had differing plans like in the years prior, but because trouble had decided it wasn’t going to take a break and kept coming Peter’s way.
It’d been an endless. Constant breakouts from the RAFT. Someone engineering it all, pulling strings so that Spider-Man was too busy to help when they plotted bigger attacks.
Only added to with the heartbreak that he’d suffered when he’d learnt that he’d ‘failed’. That despite his best efforts to ensure otherwise, Otto Octavius had still been a victim to his own invention, and turned against the man who had been his friend for years now.
Peter had barely managing to keep this universe’s Otto at bay. It was wearing him thin, MJ knew him well enough to see past the brave face he was putting on before the mask slipped back on and he swung out the window.
He was tired.
“You didn’t know I’d be back.” He sighed around his first mouthful, pulling a face when he saw MJ putting some disinfectant on the corner of the towel to swipe over the cuts at his temple.
In all honesty, she hadn’t expected him to be. She’d expected him to be out all night, only checking in for a few hours before he headed back out.
She wanted to be there on the off chance that he came back. Ned and Flash understanding her choice. They’d agreed to keep New Year’s small this year anyway to avoid people travelling across the city – the small way they could try and ease the pressure on Peter’s shoulders right now.
“I knew you’d try to be.” She replied, reaching forward to tilt his chin up. Peter hissed when she swiped the towel across the gash on his forehead. “You’re being a baby.” She tutted teasingly, knowing that he puts up with so much more when he’s actually out and in the suit.
“It stings!” He said as he tore another mouthful out of his slice.
“Baby,” She mouthed to him, finishing up her work. The pale blue towel now stained red and grey with blood and dirt. She threw it to the side, figuring she’d tackle it in her New Year’s Day clean anyway, replacing the careful touches of the cloth with her lips, gently kissing the crown of his head.
“Happy New Year, Pete.” She whispered, “It’ll be okay.” She added on because he was tired and he had tried so hard to stop Otto from succumbing to the same fate as his multiversal counterparts and he had tried so hard to keep the city safe but people kept getting hurt and people kept dying.
MJ couldn’t fix that for him, but she believed in him enough to offer him that quiet assurance. If Peter could do one thing, it was that he could always find a way.
He tilted his head back, neck straining so that he could catch her lips with his. Free hand reaching up to clasp her bicep and ground himself. An assurance for her in return. He might be bleeding in their bathtub, their New Year’s Eve not some romantic or huge thing but instead a quiet, delicate night in their bathroom with leftovers, but at least he was here.
It was such a small thing. It was silly to be happy that at the very least she got to just sit with her husband and hold him as they thankfully got given another year together. But when so many of the big things were ruined by rivals or missed due commitments to a red and blue suit, it was the small, little things that added up and felt like they mattered the most.
“I know.” He murmured against her mouth. “You’re here. The year ahead can’t be bad if it starts like this.”