Peter took a deep breath. And then another one. The snow was still falling, and the air was cold, but he barely felt it. His eyes were locked on the glittering lights and the neon open sign.
It was open. He should walk in.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been there that week, but he desperately wanted to see her. So badly. Even if he couldn’t talk, he just wanted to see her.
Maybe this time he’d even tell her who he is.
He stepped through the door, the bell indicator clinking gently.
And up she looked, tight curls gently framing her face. That smile – not the smile he was used to seeing, but one for public service – still one he loved.
“Hi.” Peter tried. It was a start. “I’m Peter Parker. And I…”
I’m Spider-Man. I’m your friend – your boyfriend. I love you.
“I would like a coffee.” He said again, internally scolding himself for the fifth time. “Please.”
“A coffee.” She confirmed with a nod, looking strangely relieved as she turned to prepare it.
Peter looked around, noticing the lack of other customers. Even Ned was absent – though it was a little early in the day for him to be here. He also noted the Christmas lights. One's MJ was probably the one to put up.
“The place looks nice, by the way.” He tried.
MJ glanced at him and there on her lips was a hint of that real smile he loved so much. “Thanks.”
“You decorate it?” He asked.
She nodded.
Peter pointed at the strings of bulbs glittering across the ceiling. “I, uh… I like the lights the best.”
“Thanks.” She pressed the lid onto his coffee and slid it across the counter. “One coffee for Peter Parker.”
He pulled out his wallet and passed her his card. “Thank you.”
And then he was walking outside again. In the cold. It was especially cold that day. He hoped she stayed warm.
“Hi.” He began. “I’m Peter Parker, and… I’d like a coffee, please.”
“Coming right up.”
Damn it.
“Hi, I’m Peter, and I, uh… I’d like a coffee? Please.”
“Sure.”
Maybe next time.
“Hi, I’m—”
“Peter.” MJ interrupted. “Parker. You want your usual?”
Usual.
Peter blinked. “Uh… sure.”
“Cool. One coffee, coming up.”
Oh. She… she knew him.
Of course she knew him, he’d been coming in twice a week – only twice a week so he didn’t freak her out – and every time he’d given her his name.
Just not anything else.
“Hey, Peter Parker.” MJ greeted as the door opened. “Your usual?”
Peter was frozen halfway into the door. It took him a few seconds to realize that she didn’t know him, she only recognized him from his numerous times walking in. Of course she’d skip the niceties for efficiency. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”
“Hey, Peter.” MJ greeted. “Your usual?”
“Yeah, sure.” Peter returned, equally casual through practice. Ned was there again. Ned, studying, it looked like. Clearly not reading the textbook in front of him. Too distracted by…
Was that an X-wing lego set?
Peter approached without thinking, looking at the scattered pieces. “Dude, is this the exclusive release of the X-wing fighter?”
Ned looked up like Peter had startled him. “Uh… yeah! It came with the specs.”
“What?” Peter was grinning. “Can I touch it? The internet kept saying it’s made out of a polycarbonate.”
“Yeah, it’s got a glue you can use to fuse the pieces together and make it unbreakable, but I think that ruins the point,” Ned said, and then gestured to the pieces. “Go for it, man.”
Peter pulled his hands out of his pockets and reached for a block. It was unbelievably smooth. Not a single manufacturing flaw. And the sturdiest plastic so it wouldn’t wear down or fade in color over time. The clear pieces for the windows were crystalline, without a single scratch.
“You like Star Wars?” Ned asked casually.
“Heck yeah, I like Star Wars,” Peter answered, returning the piece. His heart hurt. “I’ve put together loads of these things, too. Not this one, obviously. But, like, tons of others. Got a Death Star I can’t seem to keep together. Always ends up falling apart.”
“Yeah, you have to be careful with circular structures with such thin layering like that – really easy to break.” Ned agreed.
“Peter Parker?” MJ called from the counter.
Peter turned to watch her set his coffee down. Glanced back at Ned. His friend, a complete stranger. The ache in his chest only strengthened. “It was nice seeing – talking with you? Nice. Um… enjoy your legos. Studying.”
Ned was frowning.
Peter turned away quickly, making his way over to the counter. He paid for his drink and left, silently wishing the cold would relieve the pain in his heart.
Peter rolled his shoulder gently to try and loosen it before walking inside. The door’s bell clinked just as gently as always, but it felt louder than usual to him. He approached the counter.
“Hey, Peter.”
“Hey, MJ.” Peter greeted, rubbing at his eyes. “Can I have my usual?”
There was a silence.
Peter looked up.
MJ was staring at him, a curious look in her eyes. “How do you know my name?”
What? Had she never told him – no, of course she hadn’t, he’d never even asked – what’s a good reason for him to know – oh, she works here! “Your name tag?”
“I… don’t wear a name tag.” She said.
Shit. Oh no. Way to ruin absolutely everything, Parker – think, think, think—
“Do I know you from somewhere?”
“What?”
MJ crossed her arms. “It’s been bugging me. You look familiar, and you clearly know me. How do I know you?”
“Uh…” Peter dug for something that wouldn’t sound insane but wasn’t a lie – he never wanted to lie to her. “We went to the same school.” He admitted.
MJ lifted a beautiful eyebrow. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“I just really didn’t want to sound creepy,” Peter confessed. “It woulda been weird if I told you I’ve known you for a while when you don’t remember me, so I was trying not to make it weird because the last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable.”
She was staring at him.
Why didn’t Peter just keep his mouth shut?
“That’s… really considerate of you,” MJ said. “I appreciate the forethought.”
Peter nodded, not sure how to respond.
“Is that how you know Ned, too?”
“Huh?”
“Ned.” She pointed over her shoulder toward his usual seat. “The guy with the legos?”
“Yeah.” Peter agreed with a nod. “Yup. We were actually lab partners, at one point. But, uh… he doesn’t remember me, either.”
MJ nodded slowly. Shifted to grab a to-go coffee cup. “Your usual?”
“Yes, please.”
When she slid it across the counter a few seconds later, he handed her his card. She inserted the chip and after a second passed it back. “Nice to meet you.”
“What?”
“It’s nice to meet you.” She repeated slowly. Patronizing in the way she did to tease him sometimes. The tone was such a sweet sound, Peter fought down the tears it brought to the surface.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Nice to meet you, too.”
“Again.”
“What?”
“Well…” She crossed her arms. “We’ve met once already, right? I just don’t remember. So… nice to meet you again.”
“Again,” Peter whispered, fighting to keep a smile on his face. “Right.”
That time, when he left, it was with a great reluctance.
Peter wasn’t feeling well. He’d spent the last several days taking exams and fighting off criminals and villains – forget the fact that it’s Aunt May’s birthday tomorrow, it’s just been a crappy week all around. He’s sore from getting thrown through windows and his back is hurting from all of the swinging.
He needed a nap.
But he really needed to see MJ and Ned. They were usually both there on his Tuesday visits, and he needed them right now. Even if they couldn’t be there for him, knowing they were safe would help a lot.
He pushed the door open, the ringing sharp in his ears, and stumbled into the café.
“Hey, Peter.” MJ greeted. “Your usual?”
“Yeah,” Peter confirmed. “Please.”
He watched her move to the coffee machine. No limp, no bruises, healthy skin tone – totally fine. A little tired, but absolutely okay. He turned to look at Ned, and he also looked okay. Also tired – it was exam week – but otherwise completely fine.
“You okay?”
“What?” Peter turned back to MJ.
She wasn’t looking at him, instead pressing the lid onto his coffee mug with more care than probably necessary. “You didn’t come in yesterday.”
“What?” Peter asked again, totally lost.
MJ looked up at him. “It’s Wednesday. You usually come in on Tuesdays.”
Oh. Peter hadn’t even realized what day it was. “Oh, uh… sorry?”
She slid him his drink.
He pulled out his wallet, fumbling for his card and holding it toward her.
She didn’t take it. “What the fuck is that?”
Peter’s heart rate spiked at the worry in her voice. “What? Are you okay?”
“Me?” MJ reached forward and took Peter’s wrist, flipping over his hand.
Bruises across his knuckles. Torn skin on the first two.
“You look like this and you’re asking about me?” She asked. “What happened? You’ve come in every Friday and every Tuesday since December, and you miss this last Friday and Tuesday and come in here looking like you got into a fight with a brick wall.”
Peter stared at her, shocked by the outburst.
“And you didn’t even clean these out – you’re such an idiot. Ned!”
“What?” He was already paying very close attention. No doubt that started when MJ’s voice changed.
“Can you grab the first-aid kit from under the counter?”
“Whoa, hey, no.” Peter wanted to hide – pull his hand away – but her holding his wrist was the closest thing he’d gotten to holding her hand in months and he was too desperate for comfort to end it before she did. “I’m fine, you don’t gotta worry about—”
“Who did you punch this hard, anyway?” She asked as Ned set down the kit. “Was it really a wall? There are healthier ways to express anger, you know.”
Peter made a face. “No, it wasn’t a – well, it was a wall, but I wasn’t aiming for – that’s not the point.”
“So you got into a fight.” MJ sounded almost scolding.
“Listen, Peter – I get things can be pretty difficult,” Ned said, passing the cleansing spray to MJ. “A lot’s happened in our lives, ya know? If you ever need anything—”
“You don’t – ow!” Peter flinched when MJ sprayed his hand and pulled it away, taking several steps back. “You don’t need to offer me help, alright? It’s not your problem anymore.”
They stared at him.
Peter shook out his hand, flexing his fingers as they continued to burn. “I’m fine. This was an accident, and it won’t happen again. You don’t gotta worry about it.”
“What do you mean?” Ned asked.
“What?” Peter didn’t understand.
“You said it’s not our problem anymore,” MJ told him. “What did you mean by that?”
Peter stared at them. “I… I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did.” Ned disagreed.
“No, I – okay, yeah, I did, but I didn’t mean to,” Peter said, picking his card up from the floor where he dropped it. “So can I just pay for my coffee, please?”
When he extended his hand to pay, MJ hesitated before taking the card. After running it through the cash register, she reached under the counter and grabbed a pamphlet. It was handed off with his card.
Peter took it, confused. “What’s this?”
“A list of local resources for the community,” MJ said simply.
Peter shook his head. “I don’t—”
“Take it,” Ned said, more serious than Peter had seen him in a long time.
Peter glanced down at it. Flipped it open, considering handing it back so they could give it to someone who actually needed it, when his eyes caught on a familiar logo.
The shelter May had worked at, listed among the resources.
The items in his hands blurred. His body was already hurting, but his soul ached. Deeply. In his core, there was an agony that was suffocating. Choking him. He was drowning.
“Peter?”
And that was the last straw. MJ’s voice, tinged with familiar concern. Only a hint of the genuine care that laid deep within her heart that he’d noticed so often when she’d started to open up to him.
He wiped at his face, ignoring the sting of his tears in the open wounds on his hands. “Sorry. I gotta go.”
“Peter, wait!” Ned called after him. “Hang on a sec.”
Against his better judgement, Peter stopped short of the door. He knew that he should go. That expressing this much of himself when these people – his best friends – barely knew him risked alienating them for the rest of their lives. But he was so desperate for comfort, he lingered.
“You’re… clearly not okay,” Ned said, from just behind him now. He’d walked around the counter to stop him. “Very clearly not. Do you – is there any way…?”
Peter turned to look over his shoulder.
Ned had a hand lifted like he’d reached for Peter but hesitated. The amount of compassion on his face was a reminder of why he appreciated Ned so much.
“Can I help?” Ned asked.
And Peter’s mind supplied him with every moment Ned helped him. Every single moment. Ned, his best friend, the guy in the chair – there every step of the way.
Peter turned to look at him. Glanced down at his shoes. “If I told you how you’ve helped me already, you wouldn’t believe me.”
Ned frowned, clearly confused. “We’ve barely talked before a month ago.”
Peter pointed at him. “Exactly.”
“But that doesn’t matter.” Ned insisted. “Because you don’t need to know people to help them. Hell – Spider-Man helps complete strangers on a daily basis, right? I bet we could learn a lot from him.”
It was like getting stabbed, Peter decided. The compliment was so genuine it hurt.
“Though, it’s probably a lot less scary to reach out if you’ve got a mask, right?” Ned decided. A rambling statement that was so much truer than he knew. “Maybe that makes us braver than him.” And he held out his hand.
Peter felt the tears come back. Carefully, he reached out and took Ned’s hand to shake it. The beginning of their handshake.
Ned smiled. “So… are you braver than Spider-Man?”
Peter snorted. Looked to MJ.
She shook the can of antiseptic spray. “I could do the other hand.”
Peter looked around the café. “Aren’t you in the middle of a job or something?”
She shrugged. “My boss is on break, and no one else is here. Lucky us.”
Lucky us.
Peter took a slow, steadying breath. “Okay.”
He followed Ned to the counter.
A short while later – Peter hadn’t said a word to them – his hands were cleaned and bandaged. They asked if he had any other injuries. He lied and said no. Ned was telling him about how they should hang out sometime, and MJ was writing something on a napkin. She slid it to him.
“In honor of friendly-neighborhood menace.” She said with a hesitant look. “Call me, if you need someone.”
Peter looked down at the number that was still in his phone. A number he’d memorized months ago. MJ’s cellphone.
“Oh!” Ned pulled it over to himself, stealing MJ’s pen and scratching down his own cell number. “Me, too. If there’s anything we can do for you, let us know.”
Peter looked down at the napkin, shellshocked. “Why are you doing this?”
MJ shrugged. “We have the ability to help, right? And you seem pretty alone.”
Ned nodded. Smiled sadly. “Nobody should be alone.”
Peter was going to cry again. He fought down the tears and took the napkin, carefully folding it in his fingers.
The door’s bell rang, and someone else entered.
Peter took that as his sign to leave. But, before he got too far, he met their eyes. “Thank you.”
They nodded, and he left.
He couldn’t do it himself.
Shit.
Peter stared at the blood on his trembling hands, very aware that he’d been digging for that bullet for the last fifteen minutes and he’d only succeeded in making the wound worse. If it wasn’t for his quick healing speed, he probably would have bled out by now.
There was no way he was putting pressure on his leg like this.
He wasn’t going to the hospital – that was a bill he couldn’t afford right now, and they’d ask way too many questions. All he needed was someone to dig out the bullet, and he could do the rest. But he didn’t have anyone to call.
Wait. No, that wasn’t true.
No. He couldn’t. Things with Ned and MJ had gone back to being something casual. Normal. Or, at least, the new normal. He couldn’t call them.
He couldn’t do this himself.
With still-shaking hands, he reached for his phone. Pressed the correct speed dial.
“This is Ned.”
“Hey.” Peter cleared his throat to try and even his voice. “You remember when you said you’d help me out if I asked? How serious were you about that?”
“I mean… I won’t help you hide a body, but I’d give you a hand moving furniture?” Ned said. “Are you okay?”
“Well, uh…” Peter hesitated. “What if I said that I needed you to help me with an injury – it’s me, not anyone else – but I couldn’t go to the hospital and I haven’t been able to get it myself—”
“Hold up, what do you mean an injury?” Ned asked, voice turning urgent. “Are you hurt?”
Peter looked down at the blood covering him. “Uh… yeah.”
“Oh my god – are you home?”
Peter frowned. “Yes?”
“Okay, I’ll be on my way in a sec. Tell me your address.”
“My address?” Peter looked around his apartment. The science equipment laying out. The tech for his suit. His actual suit. “Wait, I don’t think—”
“I’ll call MJ, she’s better at this stuff.”
“Hold on, Ned, I don’t—”
“Tell me your address.” He insisted. “Or call an ambulance.”
Peter sighed deeply. That was Ned’s tone he used when he would not be argued with. So, Peter just hung up.
His phone immediately started vibrating again. He lifted it. A call from Ned. With a small smile, he answered. “Yeah?”
“You gave me a freaking heart attack, man – tell me your address.”
“What if I don’t wanna give a stranger my address?” Peter asked, pushing down his sorrow at having to voice the question.
“You’re injured, and I can’t imagine you’d call a stranger if you had anyone else or it was okay enough you could walk around.”
Peter considered that. “Good point.” He gave Ned his address.
“It says it’ll take me about twenty minutes. Will you be okay that long?”
“Yup.”
“Got it.” Ned hung up.
Peter dropped his arm and consequently dropped his phone. He’d already managed to strip out of his spider-man suit, luckily – one of the first things he did before trying to treat an injury this bad, as he didn’t want to damage the tech sewn in – but it was laying in a bloody heap on the floor. He reached with a wince and pulled the blanket from his bed to drop over the suit.
The rest would have to stay where it was because he didn’t have the strength to do much else. It was going to be a long twenty minutes.
But it felt like only a few minutes later that there was a knock on his door. “Peter?”
That wasn’t Ned’s voice.
It was MJ.
“Peter, open up! Ned sent me.”
“The door’s open.” He called.
After a moment of what was probably hesitation, the door unlatched and opened. In stepped MJ, looking around hesitantly. Until he caught sight of Peter, sitting in a chair, covered in blood.
“Hey.” Peter tried casually.
MJ rushed to him, looking him over with a critical eye. “What happened?”
“Kind of a long story,” Peter admitted. “Are you gonna be okay?”
“Me?” MJ asked. “You’re the one bleeding; what happened to your leg?”
“I got shot, but the bullet’s kinda still in there.”
“What?”
“I couldn’t get it out myself.”
“So you called Ned?” MJ asked, horrified. “Why didn’t you call an ambulance?”
“Can’t afford it.” Peter admitted. “And they’d ask too many questions, anyway.”
MJ stared at him. Then she pulled a chair around and sat in front of him, looking at the stuff he had on the table. “You didn’t even put on gloves.”
Peter shrugged. He’d had other things on his mind, at the time.
She pulled on a set herself, looking around for something in the kit.
Peter realized what it was and slid them to her. A set of forceps.
She took them gingerly in her hand, and Peter realized it was because they were covered in blood. Oops.
MJ looked at Peter’s leg and hesitated. “I, uh… I’ve never done this before.”
“It’s fine, you’ll still do less damage than I would, probably,” Peter told her. “It’s right here – against the bone, so you’ll have to reach all the way in. If it’s too much for you, don’t worry about it.”
“Shut up.” She snapped, reaching for it. Then hesitated again. “I don’t… this will probably hurt.”
“It already hurts,” Peter told her. “You’ll be helping, I swear.”
MJ nodded. Inhaled deeply. Held her breath. Slowly pressed into the wound.
It definitely hurt. Peter clenched his jaw to try and stop from making any noise.
“Okay,” MJ muttered. “Okay, this is fine – it’s fine, everything’s fine.”
She was freaking out. Peter didn’t know why he was surprised. “Yup, it’s totally okay.” He managed tightly.
“Shut up.” She repeated.
“Shutting up.” He decided, then winced.
“Sorry, I think I got it.”
“It’s cool.” He assured her.
The extraction was almost worse than the digging around, but it felt so much better once the bullet was out. He gasped at the pain, slouching in the chair.
MJ dropped the forceps and the bullet onto the table, quickly pressing her hands over the wound to stem the bleeding. “It probably needs stitches. Maybe? I don’t know, it’s really deep, so I almost think that’s the best plan.”
She sounded breathless. Panicked. “MJ.”
“I-I don’t know if I remember how to do stitches. I mean, I do – I took a first aid intensive last summer – but it’s hard to remember a lot right now—”
“MJ,” Peter repeated, leaning forward.
MJ looked up. It put them nearly nose-to-nose.
“Thank you.” He said softly. “For helping.”
She nodded mutely.
“I can probably do the stitches,” Peter told her – he didn’t want her to worry about it. “I just couldn’t get the bullet out on my own.”
She stared at him.
There was a knock on the door.
“It’s open!” Peter called.
The door opened to reveal Ned, who stopped short at the sight of blood. Then he rushed in, kicking the door shut behind him. “Here.” He ripped open a package of gauze he'd snatched from the table and passed it to MJ.
MJ quickly pressed it against the wound.
Peter bit back a wince.
“Can we just…” Ned trailed off, looking at the table. “Is that a bullet?”
“Yup,” MJ confirmed.
He looked at Peter. “You were shot?”
“Yup,” MJ repeated.
Peter blinked. “It’s okay—”
“How is this okay?” Ned asked. “What about this is okay? Why didn’t you go to the hospital?”
“Can’t afford it, and they ask a lotta questions.” Peter summarized. “Don’t worry, it’s not as bad as it looks.”
“How can it not be as bad as it – you’re bleeding right now! You’ve got blood all over your hands!”
“It’s fine,” Peter said, trying to keep him calm. “It’s not the worst I’ve ever gotten, it’ll be okay.”
MJ’s head snapped up to look at him again. “Not the worst? What was the worst?”
Peter hesitated. “I was one of the people that got dusted, or whatever. That’s like dying, right? Totally worse.”
“Oh my god.” Ned pinched the bridge of his nose.
“And there was that time with the alien army – totally got smacked around. And, you know, once a building fell on me—”
“A building?” Ned asked.
For a moment, Peter frowned at him. How did he not remember that?
Oh. Right. He didn't remember anything.
Peter looked away.
“Do you just have the worst luck, or are you looking for trouble?” Ned asked.
Peter shrugged, wordless. There was no point in talking about it. They didn’t know anything. He’d forgotten entirely, a lapse in the midst of pain and blood loss. Not going to happen again.
“Peter…” MJ sounded hesitant and annoyed. Like she was annoyed at how uncertain she felt. “What’s going on with you?”
Peter met her eyes. They were just as beautiful as they always had been, framed by a gorgeous face and wonderfully asymmetrical curls. His heart melted at the sight of her, so close to him for the first time in months. “If… if you really want me to tell you, I will.”
MJ looked surprised. Confused. As if something in his tone was throwing her off.
“Seriously?” Ned asked. “Because we’d love to help you out, dude.”
He looked at Ned, meeting his eyes as well to get his point across. “You’ll have to wait for me to get to the end. And… and you’ll have to listen. It’s gonna be hard to believe.”
MJ sighed. “If this is about you being Spider-Man, you can just forget it.”
Peter stared at her.
Ned’s eyes widened. “MJ, what the fuck?”
“What?”
“You can’t just say that – what if he’s not and you’re crazy?”
“I’m not crazy,” MJ said, looking at Peter. “And he is. Just look at his face.”
Peter had no idea what his face was doing. “How did you…?”
“I was watching some videos on the internet after you skipped some visits to the café a few months back,” MJ said. “Spiderman landed on a bad guy and tried to punch him in the head. He missed and punched right through a brick wall. Bare-fisted, by the way – what happened to your suit?”
Peter was still staring.
“I told Ned, and he compiled a bunch of videos of you from over the years – we noticed Spiderman’s activity was centered a lot around our high school in Queens. Oh, and Spiderman also went missing for the five-year gap.” MJ said. “Just like you confirmed you did. Just now.”
Peter couldn’t believe it. “You…” He laughed. “You actually did it.”
She frowned. “Did what?”
Oh, Peter wanted to kiss her. “You figured it out.”
MJ looked confused. “You weren’t exactly subtle.”
Peter laughed again. Ran his hands through his hair, ignoring how it probably left blood behind. She'd said she would. If he didn't tell her, she would figure it out on her own. And she did. God, Peter loved her.
“So… she’s right?” Ned asked.
Peter pointed to the blanket on the floor. “Move that.”
After a moment of hesitation, Ned did. Then, slowly, he lifted the damaged suit from the floor. “Oh my god.” He stared at Peter. “You’re Spider-Man!”
Peter was grinning, remembering the first time Ned had said those words to him. “Yup.”
“I have so many questions.” Ned said.
Peter’s smile slipped. “I’ll answer them. But, uh… that’s not all I wanted to tell you.”
MJ shifted her weight, the change of pressure causing a pang of pain to spike in Peter’s leg. “What else is there?”
Peter crossed his arms. “A few months back – November – everyone figured out I was Spiderman. It was all over the news, and there was no getting away from it. There was this scandal that had everyone convinced I killed one of the good guys – I didn’t, he manipulated the evidence, but I’ll get into that later.”
“If everyone knew about you, then how come we don’t now?” Ned asked.
Peter took a slow breath. “I went to Dr. Strange – the Avenger. Asked him to cast a spell that would stop that event from happening, only… he wanted to make the whole world forget, but there were people I wanted to remember. I… ruined the spell. It caused a fracture in spacetime, drawing in people from other dimensions that new about me. The only way to reverse it was to make everyone forget about me.”
“But… we know about Spider-Man,” Ned argued. “Everyone knows him.”
“Yeah.” Peter agreed. “But that’s not what I meant.”
“Everyone forgot about Peter Parker,” MJ whispered.
Peter nodded.
“What about your family?” MJ asked. “Your friends?”
Peter fought back tears. “I don’t have family. But… all my friends forgot, yeah.”
“That’s… that’s horrible,” Ned said.
“Yeah, it is,” Peter confirmed.
“We were your friends, weren’t we?” MJ put it together. “It’s why you started coming in all the time.”
Peter nodded, unable to put a voice to his source of grief.
“We were friends?” Ned asked, shocked.
Peter gave him a broken smile. “You and me, Ned? We were best friends. You were my guy in the chair.”
“Guy in the Chair?” Ned’s eyes were wide. “I knew you were Spider-Man?”
Peter nodded. “So did MJ.”
MJ stared at him. “Me? Why me?”
Peter hesitated. Looked away. Tried to ignore his blush. “Well… we were close, you know?”
“Close?”
“Yeah.”
“How close?”
Peter cleared his throat.
MJ stared at him. “Were… were we dating?”
“Listen, I don’t want you to feel like you’ve gotta – I mean – things are different now, and you don’t remember us becoming friends, let alone everything else we’ve been through – so if you don’t want that out of this, I’m cool with just being friends, I really don’t—”
“Peter.” MJ cut him off. “Shut up.”
Peter stopped talking.
MJ was frowning deeply. “I find you… endearing. Very sweet. And this explains why I know a lot about Spider-Man. Also… I like you. So I can’t guarantee we’ll go immediately back to how you remember us, but if you’re okay with starting over, I’m okay with that.”
Peter stared at her.
MJ looked away. “Just… just so you know.”
Peter was in excruciating pain and he was lightheaded from the blood loss – and he desperately needed a nap – but his heart was warm and full. For the first time since that final spell, Peter really felt like someone knew who he was again.
“Yeah.” Peter’s voice was soft. “Yeah, okay.”
MJ gave him a very tentative, awkward smile that didn’t stick.
Peter returned the expression with one he hoped was more convincing.
“Oh, was I a third wheel?” Ned asked, pressing his hands to his head. “God, that’s so awkward – don’t tell me if that’s true, I don’t want to know.”
Peter laughed.