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The apartment is quiet. Faintly, MJ can hear the sound of the city – traffic, honking, shouting. An emergency response siren goes off in the distance and she wonders if that means that Peter is on another mission. Maybe it’s Mile’s turn.
Sometimes, MJ thinks it makes her a bad person. That she does not stop Miles from throwing himself head-first into danger even if it could kill him one day. That she is relieved that he does. Because it means that Peter is no longer on his own. But at the same time, she knows that there is no way to stop him anyway. There never was a way to stop Peter.
MJ’s gaze falls on the stack of books in front of her. On the white covers, the black letters on the front. Perilous: A Journey Into War-Torn Symkaria.
She had been ecstatic when she left New York to report on the civil war. Highly motivated. Hopeful. She wanted to help people. To draw attention to a crisis many countries ignored. To speak for people that nobody seemed to hear.
MJ snorts humourlessly.
Well, nobody cared about that either.
She sold 14 copies. That's nothing.
MJ feels powerless. Desperate. And disappointed. In all those ignorant people that are content with living their happy life. That don’t want to know about anything that could burst their little bubble. But mostly she is disappointed in herself.
She knows that she is a good journalist. That her research is flawless. She has put so much into this book. Has flown into a war zone and put herself into danger. Has faced mistrust, hostility and sorrow. Has never stopped.
But it’s not enough.
All those years, MJ has worked her way up. Has proven all those doubters wrong that deemed her too young. That didn’t trust her to do her job because is a woman and supposed to be “overly emotional” and “too nice”.
She has proven her father wrong who had always expected her to fail.
But right now, it feels like it was all for nothing. Like they have won.
MJ looks away from the books and tries to ignore the boxes stashed away in a corner that hold even more of them. She has been too confident in her work. Too optimistic.
Well, MJ is not confident anymore.
***
It’s three in the morning when MJ wakes from a disturbing nightmare about an attack on New York that goes horribly wrong. Her throat feels raw but she doesn’t know if that’s from her screaming in her sleep or some kind of phantom pain because the dream felt so real.
It’s nothing new. MJ has always dreamed of Peter getting injured. Ever since he had almost bled out on her living room carpet back in college. Sometimes her nightmares end with something far worse than just an injury. Like it did just now.
MJ turns around in hopes of stealing a hug from Peter that is going to reassure her that he is safe, but the bed next to her is empty.
That is nothing new either.
A quick check reveals that the mattress is cold, so he has left a while ago. MJ tries not to think about it. About what it could possibly mean. But even if she does not imagine Peter lying bleeding in some dark alley, MJ knows that sleep is not going to find her again.
So she sits up and slides off the bed. With all lights turned off, the only thing that illuminates her way are the street lights outside of the windows. MJ can barely see where she is going but she doesn’t need to. She knows this place since childhood. She could find her way with her eyes closed.
It’s not often that she spends the night at May’s house. Well… Peter’s house.
He has asked her a few times to move in but she has declined. She is needed in the city, close to where the action is. If something happens, she needs to get there quickly. Forest Hills is too far out.
But that’s not the only reason. Even if she doesn’t tell Peter, MJ is not sure if she could live in a house that holds too many memories of the past.
Nothing changed since May has last stepped a foot in here. There are still her books on the small table next to the couch. Her pictures on the walls. Her magnets on the fridge. Her room is untouched, the bedsheets still the same and there are boxes full of clothes, shoes and other things everywhere.
It should be… comforting. To have something that still reminds them of her. But instead it feels like a shadow hanging over their heads. Like a constant reminder of a life lost. Like MJ is not allowed to touch anything besides Peter’s stuff that is crammed into his old room.
MJ reaches the living room downstairs. The boxes frame the old couch and the TV stand. She can still remember all those days Peter, Harry and herself spent right here, watching TV or planning adventures. Can still remember them all sitting around the dining room table with May and Ben.
She had always loved spending time here. Far from her own home where only fear and pain awaited her. Deep down, she had envied Peter for it. For a place and people that made him feel safe.
MJ’s stomach feels heavy. She doesn’t know if he can keep the house for much longer. Working for Otto Octavius had been a blessing for Peter because he was often free to come and go whenever he wanted – or whenever Spider-duty called.
With the scientist behind bars, it became increasingly harder for Peter to manage life alongside his secret identity. May hadn’t left him much money and there are a lot of bills to pay.
He has tried to get a new job. Several times. But they never lasted long. There is another job that will always come first. It always has.
Ever since Peter got his powers, he has missed classes, events, dates. MJ understands that. She even admires it. His sense of responsibility. His compassion. His determination to do everything in his power to protect New York and its people. It inspires her to help them as well.
But it’s a struggle. And it makes her worry.
Peter cannot lose this house. MJ knows that. It would break him to lose the last thing that is left of his family. A remnant of a time where things had been easier. But she doesn’t know how much longer he can keep up with bills and the mortgage.
MJ can pay for it. She has thought about it many times. She has a job that pays well enough and there are a few thousand dollars in her bank account. But she would have to move out of her current apartment because she cannot pay for that and the house. And what if she somehow loses her job? With J. Jonah Jameson back at the head of the Daily Bugle, that surely feels like a possibility.
It makes her feel helpless. And afraid of the future.
MJ wants a life with Peter. But she doesn’t know what it will look like. Will it always be like this? Uncertain? A struggle?
It feels wrong to even think about it, but sometimes MJ wonders what her life would be like if Peter had never been bitten by that spider. Would there be other challenges? Other things to worry about? Probably.
But maybe they wouldn’t feel as distressful if they would solve them together.
***
The restaurant is bursting with guests. All of the tables are occupied and the room is buzzing with the sound of chatter that drowns out the quiet music that is playing in the background. Waiters are carrying trays of food and used dishes from and to the kitchen. The walls are covered with artificial stones and wine racks put hundreds of bottles on display.
It is no “we only serve one bite of food per course” kind of restaurant, but it is not Mick’s either. In other words, it is not a place they usually go to.
It was Peter’s idea. To reserve a table here to celebrate her birthday. And MJ is looking forward to spending the evening together like a normal couple. They haven’t had much time together lately because of some strange new villain with a kangaroo themed suit terrorizing the city and she misses him. Plus, her week has been awful.
MJ had suspected that working under Jameson would be tough but reality exceeds her expectations. Not only does he constantly order her to get him coffee, sandwiches or apple fritters from the bakery around the corner like she isn’t a journalist but rather some kind of servant. He also rejects articles because they are not profitable enough or do not fit his beliefs and instead expects them to spread his bullshit propaganda.
It pains MJ to see the Daily Bugle being reduced to a medium used to spread outlandish theories and hatred. This is not why she became a journalist.
MJ sighs and smoothes out her dress. She doesn’t want to think about it right now. This is supposed to be a nice evening. Even if it looks like it is going to start later than planned. Her eyes dart to the clock on the wall next to the doors. They were supposed to meet about 20 minutes ago.
It’s not unusual. Peter has never been one to show up on time. He probably lost track of time. It’s too early to start worrying.
MJ takes in her surroundings again just to do something. There is a couple on the table next to hers, a pretty blonde woman and a man that probably is her husband because when they interlace their fingers on top of the crisp white tablecloth, MJ can see golden rings glinting on their hands. Maybe they are celebrating their anniversary. Maybe just a night without kids.
It’s something MJ has not thought about that often. Children. A family. With her own far from loving or happy, building one with someone hadn’t been a top priority in her life. But the thought of her and Peter sitting across from each other in a restaurant, wedding bands on their fingers and a miniature version of himself waiting for them to return home makes her stomach flutter.
Will there be a future like that for them?
MJ doesn’t know if Peter would even want kids. She doesn’t know if she wants them. Their lives are not exactly safe. There are a lot of things that can go wrong if you are Spider-Man or his loved one. MJ doesn’t mind but she can’t imagine putting a child – their child - into danger.
So does that mean that they are never going to have a family together? MJ doesn’t want to think about that either.
Instead, she glances up at the clock again. 30 minutes. Now she is getting nervous. This doesn’t feel like his usual “Sorry, I got hung up at patrol and then forgot where I stashed my normal clothes” lateness. The kind where he comes stumbling through the doors with a crumpled shirt and dishevelled hair and stammers apology after apology.
The pretty couple next to her throws her pitiful looks. MJ ignores them. Maybe she should call Miles.
She reaches for her phone but before she can even unlock it, it vibrates with an incoming text.
Bank robbery on 14th street. It reads.
A second later, her phone buzzes again.
I am sorry.
And well, MJ is relieved that he is not dying somewhere in the city. She really is. But she still can’t stop the disappointment settling in her stomach. It’s going to be another plan cancelled. Another evening she is going so spend on her own. Anxiously waiting for him to call.
It is unfair and selfish. MJ knows that. Because her birthday is nothing in comparison to the lives of the people the bank robbers could potentially harm. Employees, customers, police officers. Some bystanders, in danger of being run over by a car during their escape.
And MJ doesn’t want Peter to prioritize her needs. She never could, when Peter is the one that stand between those people and their possible death. And she chose this. She knew what she was getting into when she started dating him. And when she started dating him again. That’s the price she has to pay to be with him. The price she is willing to pay.
But that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t wish it could be different.
Because people need Spider-Man.
But MJ needs Peter.