Work Text:
Falling, she was falling. Her Peter tried to catch her, but Goblin scooped him away. Peter didn’t know what he was thinking, other than “not again” and “not after he just lost his May”. So he jumped.
He’d gone through this scenario countless times; it swirled through his mind during late nights when he couldn’t sleep. Even when the thought of saying her name hurt him (which hurt even worse because Gwen deserved to be remembered), when her mom would try to talk to him when he’d visit her grave.
How could he have saved her differently?
If only he’d been faster. If only he hadn’t stuck the web there. If only there were less force in his stop. If only she hadn’t been there.
Too many what-ifs and never a change in their story.
It had gotten better over time; he’d thought less of it. But he’d go through episodes, days of feeling like the most worthless piece of shit. Those days, he’d visit her and her dad’s grave and wonder why. He’d drive himself so deep into a depression that barely anything but being Spider-Man could get him out of bed.
But still, he always wondered what he could've done differently.
All those nights of thinking might've paid off. Because as he soared through the sky of a New York not his, by a wrong statue, not copper green, he knew exactly what to do.
He races past debris and grabs onto her; he twists and shoots a web and stabilizes their descent. He lands with her in his arms, breathing, alive. Not broken.
He makes sure she's ok, but he seems more shaken by the whole thing than she does. Then they split paths and don't see each other again.
He always wonders if this only worked because they had been at a good distance. If it's because there weren’t as many things falling around them, if somehow the fucking gravity was different in his world. Anything to make him feel as if this might just be his luck, to save everyone but her.
He didn’t deserve to save her, but he was the one who did. The one who couldn’t save his person ended up saving another's. It’s Spider-Man's curse, really: can’t save your own family but can save others.
(He knows it's just his insecurity talking; he should be happy to have saved her, to have given Peter 1 and her the ability to be happy)
Either way, he saved her.
But then why is she still falling? This time her brown curls are turning into blonde locks, flying rapidly around her. She's falling and falling and-
“Peter?”
Her eyes- they were so full of light and life and love, and now they're blank, nothing, empty, because of him; he couldn’t save her; he broke her-
“Pete”
That wasn’t Gwen?
“Pete, wake up.”
Someone was shaking him. Peter’s eyes shot open as he frantically looked around. He wasn’t in the clock tower; he wasn't at the Statue of Liberty in another universe. He was in bed, at home.
Peter looked over and met brown eyes staring into his eyes.
He smiled tiredly at Peter. “Hey there, you alright?”
Peter sat up fully and put his head in his hands, rubbing his face harshly.
“M’alright, nightmare. Go back to sleep, Em, don't let me keep you up.”
Peter felt the bed dip slightly as weight shifted, then a hand on his back rubbing up and down. “Not gonna get away that easy, tell me what's wrong. Ever since that ‘trip abroad,’ you’ve been weird. Like, how you were when we first met. Not as bad, luckily, or else I’d have sat you down immediately. But I can tell something is up.”
Peter looked up at him; MJ stared right back unrelentingly. “God, I hate investigative reporters.”
MJ smiled. “Nah, you love this one.”
Peter smiled at that, then sighed and went to get up. “I’ll make us some tea, and we can talk about it.”
MJ smiled, “Okay, be there in a min,” then he leaned in and kissed his cheek (Like it was so easy to love him).
Peter got up and headed towards their small apartment’s kitchen, turned on the electric kettle, and got their cups and tea bags ready.
As the water boiled, his mind raced through what he’d say. MJ knew everything. Spider-Man, Gwen, the multiverse (as he lightly calls his trip abroad).
They met in college, shortly after Peter went back to Spider-Manning. He was still in a very depressive state, but MJ was a good friend to him during that time. Always making sure he was still taking care of himself.
Then years of friendship turned into a little bit more (honestly, they didn’t change that much, just started saying "I love you” and kissing), and that little bit more turned into sharing a living space and everything about each other. Though MJ technically figured out the whole Spider-Man thing, he won’t get into that right now.
But as he was saying, MJ knew everything about Peter, but he never really dove deep into Gwen and what happened with her. He knew she had died and Peter blamed himself; he knew there was a chance to save her, and Peter messed it up, but he never asked or dug for specifics.
This nightmare, what happened in the other universe, struck too close to the heart. It made him ache in a way he hadn’t in years.
Peter had gotten so lost in his thoughts and was brought out of them by the sound of the kettle screeching. He poured the hot water into the cups and left the teabags in, then he poured an outrageous amount of sugar into his, but only a little bit of honey into MJ’s.
MJ must’ve heard the kettle too, because when Peter looked up, he was already sitting on the couch.
He sat down next to him, handed him his cup, and prepared for the long story he was gonna have to tell. He just didn’t know where to start. He drank his tea awkwardly for a while.
MJ sensed this and put his hand over Peter’s.
“Why don’t you start with why you’ve been off since you got back?”
Ok, that’s easier.
Peter inhaled. “Well, while I was over there, something happened. Something that very much reminded me of.. Well, of what happened with Gwen.” No matter how much better he gets, he still goes quiet when he says her name.
MJ immediately softens and fully grabs Peter's hand and nods for support.
“Well, other Peter, Peter 1, his girlfriend was helping us out at the Statue, and, um, when Goblin showed up and blew it all up, she got knocked down. She started falling off the side, and Peter 1, he couldn’t get to her. Goblin made sure of that, and so I just reacted and threw myself off after her. And the crazy thing is I saved her. I caught her and then caught us both and got her down safely. I saved her, Em, and I just can’t stop thinking about it.”
Peter took a sip of his tea and looked into MJ’s eyes (Peter had thought they’d looked so similar to the girl he saved when he’d caught her, but maybe that was him looking for some form of familiarity in a bad situation at the time).
“I can’t stop thinking about it because I could save her, but how could I not save my- how could I not save Gwen?” He says, voice breaking. Peter was trying to ignore it, but he could feel the onslaught of tears that had started flowing down his face.
“All these years I’d spent thinking about it, what I could do differently, what I could do better, and I did it, just on the wrong girl.” Peter could see MJ was trying not to cry either and failing.
“And then those thoughts make me feel guilty because, despite having lost her, I don't think I would’ve met you, and isn’t that selfish? I hate myself because now I’m here, I'm happy, and what does she get, death? Because her supposed superhero boyfriend couldn’t save her without breaking her back.”
And he's unraveling, completely sobbing. He doesn’t know when, but he’d put down his tea, and his head was in his hands again. Then two arms come around him and wrap him in a hug, which he immediately reciprocates.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Pete. Don't say that, though; don't hate yourself for how you feel. It's just how the fate of the world works; it was supposed to happen that way, and as much as it pains us all, we can't fix it.”
Peter sobs more into his shirt, “It’s just so much. How can I grieve her so hard yet love you so much? It doesn’t make sense anymore; I should've moved on by now.”
MJ sniffles too, “You’re never gonna stop loving her, and I don't hate you for that. She was your first love, and you lost her too soon. But you have such a big heart; I will never need to compete for love from you because you have so much left to give. That’s just the person you are, a kind and amazing person.”
Peter grips harder to the back of MJ’s shirt and just cries. He’s had enough talking; he just wants to be held by the person he loves now.
And MJ, the psychic, knows exactly that: “Shh, just let it out. No more talking tonight; I’ll be here the next time you want to, whether it’s tomorrow or in 5 years, I’m here.”
Peter cries and cries for a while, until he’s exhausted all his tears and falls into a dreamless sleep, knowing that he is safe and loved.
Even if he might not be cured this time, or anytime soon, Peter knows that MJ will be there to help him through it.