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“I need your opinion on something,” MJ begins.
Peter—who’s obviously way too perceptive for his own good, sometimes—puts down his papers and looks up to her. A beat passes, in which he contemplates MJ, and gives her a little nervous smile. “Okay,” he says.
MJ inhales. “Okay, but promise you’re not going to judge—”
“MJ,” Peter interrupts. “I’d never, ever, ever judge you. Except for that one time you considered putting fries as a pizza topping—I was judging you then. But you don’t have to be worried, okay?”
The attempt at a joke does soothe her nerves. Okay. Sure. It’s not about pleasing others, it’s about what she wants to do. No more bending over backwards for things that don’t make her happy; it’s time to make change one step at a time. Even if the step feels incredibly small. Even if it also doesn’t feel like she’s doing something, at all, but—
“Okay, so, I was thinking about starting a podcast,” MJ grins to sell her idea. “Yes, I know that makes me sound like a washed-up actor that suddenly realized they could just make a podcast or whatever, but—” she sits down next to Peter, opening up her laptop. “There’s just so much to cover, and writing—I love writing! But there’s nothing like a conversation, right? And New York loves a good podcast. And it’s just—I know it sounds unreliable but—”
And yes, her desktop looks super disorganized, but she gets it! The Word document she starts opening makes no sense, either—well, it makes sense to her—but Peter still dutifully pays attention as she points at it. “See, I think I can start it off by just, opening up a conversation and sharing my own experience with, y’know… alien goo stuff… and then see where we go from here? I think I’m going to try and get voices from New York to be heard, like—did you hear about the music museum with Miles and Angela? I think she’d be a great guest, and—”
When she checks on Peter again, his eyebrows are shot up, but he’s still smiling. MJ interrupts herself. “I’m going too fast. Let me start again. I’m thinking about starting a podcast so everyone has a chance to have their voice heard. What do you think?”
“I think,” Peter begins, grabbing her hand—and the touch shoots up so much comfort up her spine, it almost shocks her, “that it’s a great idea, and I will help you with whatever you want. I can run your Twitter account for you.”
“I can run my own account,” MJ laughs a little, but she asks again: “You don’t think it’s a bad idea? It’s just so unreliable, and I know I said I’d help with the mortgage and this isn’t the fixed income—”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Peter reassures her. “If this is what you want to do, then I don’t see why it wouldn’t be a great idea. I’ll help you gain traction. Not to brag, but I know a guy with almost twenty million Twitter followers.”
“Oh, yeah. The real reason I date you. Spider-Man Twitter clout.”
“Wow, I totally meant this guy called BKLYNSpider42, but I see how it is!” he breaks out laughing, and finally, the leftover anxiety escapes through MJ’s fingertips. Okay, this is good. The world isn’t so shaky and unsteady—it’s not like being lost in a huge jungle anymore. “You’ll be great. You’re an amazing reporter, and you’re an incredible conversation partner, and you’re a spectacular writer. This is tailor-made for you. And don’t worry—now that I’ve… you know…”
He’s still not ready to say that out loud, is he? It’s not that he’s giving up being Spider-Man—he’s just taking a break. There is something about being on breaks, though, that always feels so definite. MJ doesn’t press, and Peter recovers from that fairly quickly.
“...I can probably send my curriculum to some schools, y’know—they probably won’t fire me on the first day.”
“Probably,” MJ agrees.
“I’m not even the problem—teaching private schools is just a mess! Do you know how much better they pay in public schools? I’m about to swarm them with my CV. And I still have the photos I can sell to Robbie. While you get the show on the road, I’ll cover for you. Okay? We’re a team.”
“We’re a team,” she repeats, more eager, and leans in for a hug. Peter answers with his arms wrapping around her.
It’s somewhat terrifying to admit to this—she’s always been good at following her heart and her hunch, but after the incident with the symbiotes, it’s… The intensity of those emotions—it’s terrifying to want things, fearing it could get distorted as much as they did. But this? This is nice. Peter’s warm, comforting, and against all odds hope plants itself inside her chest and begins to bloom. Maybe they could be okay.
“Just for the record,” Peter says as he holds her, “I would also support you if you were a retired actress who reacts to her old films on a podcast to dish out on Hollywood.”
MJ laughs loudly. “That is actually so reassuring, Pete.”
“Graduation ceremony?” Peter repeats out loud. He looks at Miles like he’s speaking in an entirely different language.“You’re graduating high school?”
“Pete,” Miles says, like he’s entertaining a child, “Pete, we’ve been talking about that college essay for like months. C’mon! Do you not listen to me, ever?”
“I always listen!” Peter answers in what he’d swear is not a whine. Miles pointedly doesn’t tease him for it. He’s too nice to Peter—probably in ways he doesn’t deserve just yet. “It’s just—man, I can’t believe… you’re almost an adult! It was only yesterday when I took you under my spider-wing.”
“I’m… leaving the spider-nest, I guess?” Miles grimaces. “Ew, okay, let’s not stretch that metaphor out. So… are you and MJ coming? I need to let the school know so they can put the right amount of chairs for everyone.”
“Of course we’re coming,” he punches Miles’ shoulder good-heartedly. Miles lights up in a way that shows Peter that fondness has no limit; it can only keep increasing. “We’re honored.”
Miles grins, “Glad you are! Wanted my whole family there. I just hoped you guys wouldn’t be busy—how’s the podcast plan going? Ganke says he’ll upgrade MJ’s mics if she—”
Peter wants to keep listening—he always listens! But he fixes on something else. The word paces a little around Peter’s brain, taking a little walk. He should’ve known earlier, of course, it makes sense— why wouldn’t it? Still, like an idiot looking for confirmation, he interrupts Miles to ask:
“Family?” he can feel the way his face splits into a smile. “You think of MJ and I as family?”
Miles nods slowly. “...Yeah. I thought you—knew? You guys are like family to me,” he says. “Unless… you don’t want to be—”
“No, no, no, not like that at all,” he grasps Miles by the shoulders, glee filling him like it hasn’t in—quite a while. This kid is like the sun appearing after a storm. “I love being your family. I want to always be your family! I'm just—” he pauses as he squeezes his shoulders, dropping them after. “It means a lot to me. Considering I have no blood family left, still having people to call that in my life… it means a lot, Miles.”
The words hurt him as soon as they leave his mouth, like the weight of them got processed somewhere between formulating the thought and actually speaking it out loud. That’s just how it is, is it? No parents, no uncle Ben, no aunt May. Last one on the line—it’s him.
He sucks in a breath mentally. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Miles—he needs a better grip of his emotions. They keep getting the best of him.
“Of course,” Miles promises. As if he’s sensing that Peter is a lot more troubled than he looks, he squeezes his arm again. “So you better be there, aight? I’ll be really mad if you guys are not in the family picture.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Peter promises.
“Good! Good,” Miles smiles. “Hey, I gotta swing by Hailey’s, we’re starting an art project—talk to you later?”
“Of course,” Peter says. “Go get ‘em!”
He jogs away, even though he could clearly swing out, which is all the more adorable. God, he’s so young. He’s family to Peter, and Peter would do anything for him, no matter what—everything Miles has done for him, there’s no repaying that. Peter could work for ninety years non-stop, and it would not come close to what Miles did for him. And he’s considering—?
He’s considering leaving him with—?
He rings up MJ before the thoughts get the better of him. “Hey,” he says. “Am I a terrible person for considering hanging up my webs?”
“Pete,” MJ says, in her tone that both says ‘we’ve talked about this’ and also ‘Pete you worry too much’. It’s a very fond tone of voice. “You’re not. You’re not abandoning the city. You’re just also a person who’s been through a lot, and you need some rest.”
“I know,” he says. They’ve definitely talked about this. “But it’s just—it’s Miles, MJ.”
“What about Miles?” MJ asks, somewhat cautious. “You… don’t think he’s up for the task?”
“What—no, no, nothing like that!” It stings, too, because didn’t he say that, before? How much of it all was the Symbiote, and how much were unfounded insecurities he had? “Miles is more than capable. He’s great. He’s perfect, really, I just—”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he closes his eyes and sighs deeply. “He’s so young, MJ. I’m leaving him an entire city when he’s so young. He’s not even in college yet! Just—I can’t… it’s so—” a pause, a beat, “It’s irresponsible.”
MJ takes a moment to collect her thoughts. The immediate lack of answer is almost welcomed, really, just knowing that she’s listening and not judging him can be enough. How was there a time where they were apart for six months? It never made sense to Peter.
“I… it’s a tough one,” MJ finally answers. “I think Miles would understand, first of all. And I think—how should I say this? Regardless of you hanging up your suit or not, he’d still be defending the city non-stop. Like he has been for the past year.”
“I mentioned it casually, before,” Peter recalls. “I said that this city only needed him. He told me he still thought it was a two-people job. I don’t know, MJ, maybe I’m making a mistake—”
“Hey. Maybe he just said it to make you feel better,” she says. He can picture the small smile she’s wearing while saying it, and it makes the dread recede. “Seriously, though. I know you always put people first so this is like, new to you, but you have to persevere, Pete. It’s been… tough, for you.”
“I guess so.”
“It’s been tough for all of us. You’re not quitting this forever—I doubt you can actually stay away from it. It’ll be there when you feel like going back to it. All of us will be there. You just need to do this, Pete. Okay? It doesn’t make you terrible.”
Peter inhales. How could he internalize that? Is there really no other way other than doing it? It’s not the first time he thinks this, but it would be great if there were more versions of himself to do everything he wants to do. A clone would be super great.
“Thank you,” is the most appropriate thing to say. Where would he be without MJ? “Tell you what, Miles invited us to his graduation ceremony, so you better clear your calendar for next weekend. We’re seeing our boy graduate.”
MJ snorts, “Our boy?”
“W-well, you know. Our Spider-boy…? Our little brother…?” Peter stops when he hears MJ breaking into laughter. He laughs as well. “Our very good friend Miles is graduating.”
“That works. Is that why you got so anxious?”
“Yeah, a little. It’ll be fine, though. One step at a time.”
“Yeah. Exactly. When you come home, we have to go shopping for some clothes—we’re gonna look amazing for his big day. See you when you get here.”
“Yes, of course,” Peter smiles. “See you. Love you.”
The urge to swing back home is there. He could go to a rooftop and change his clothes—he’d get there faster, of course. But leaving this is a process, a slow one, and Peter’s never been good at taking things one step at a time.
He has to try, though.
Peter takes out his Subway card instead. It’s time for this old thing to see some action.
God, she loves this porch so much.
The crickets sing. Summer is here again, which means that even the nights are a little hot. Her fingers wrap around her glass of water—she’s been taking slow, long sips of it. It’s cold. It’s grounding. It’s also three in the morning, and she knows Peter felt her slip out of bed, but it was necessary.
Sometimes, when she closes her eyes, she’s right back inside a tunnel and Peter doesn’t listen to reason, doesn’t care—he’s a terrifying beast trying to kill her, so beyond her reach. Other times, she closes her eyes and wakes up with hands that are not her own, and she’s not alone— we can make you feel better and we will give you what you want and we don’t need anyone else’s validation ever again we are whole, which should repulse her but at that moment it had, undoubtedly, felt good—
MJ takes another sip of it. Today it was the tunnel.
How was it for Harry? The descend into it, the voices, the amplification of emotions?
Away for treatment, for so long. Coming back seemingly healthy, so excited to change the world, so thankful for that second chance. To corrupt such a wonderful person, one of her best friends in the whole wide world, to leave him in a state where she doesn’t know whether he’s alive or dead—
No, no. He’d be fine. Norman is working on that. Norman Osborn is a terrible person, but he loves Harry too much to lose him. He’ll be fine. He has to be. God, if only there was more they could’ve done—if they had learned about this earlier—if they had contained the Symbiote—
“Hey,” Peter says. “Brooding all by yourself, beautiful?”
MJ turns her head to him, offering a smile. “Nice line.”
“Still got it,” Peter cheers quietly, coming to sit on the floor next to her. “Can’t sleep, huh?”
“Sorry for waking you,” MJ tells him. “I know you felt it when I woke up.”
“It’s okay,” Peter holds her hand. “I’m not doing any better, either.”
“What’s up with you?”
“Symbiote nightmares, usually,” Peter answers. “Today, though, it’s really just—I should be out patrolling. This… quitting little by little, it’s horrible. I keep seeing those pop-ups on the app and feel horrible ignoring them.”
MJ puts her head on his shoulder. Peter visibly relaxes when she does it, and truthfully, so does she. It helps a little with chasing away that image of Peter chasing her in the Symbiote suit—she doesn’t want to be terrified of Peter, even when her body reacts without any input.
“You’re going to get used to it,” MJ says. “See? The night is quiet right now. The world is not ending because you’re getting eight hours of sleep.” She pauses. “Well, not right now, but generally.”
“I know what you mean,” Peter says, chuckling. “What’s eating you up?”
“...Symbiote nightmares,” she sighs. “Sometimes I close my eyes and I’m back inside that tunnel, being chased for my life.”
Peter goes rigid. “MJ—”
“I know,” MJ sighs again. “I know, Peter. I was in the hive mind, too. I understand what it does to you.”
“I was a jerk to you,” Peter squeezes her a bit tighter. “Even before the Symbiote fully took over, it just—I didn’t even listen to you. If I hadn’t fallen asleep, if I had read over your article, if—God, MJ. I don’t even know how to make it up to you. I’m so sorry. I know it’s not enough to say it, but I’m just—I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, you got me back when I got that alien goo in my head, so I’d say we’re even,” MJ says, grabbing one of his hands with both of her own. “Still. Thank you. It was… terrifying, back there. I thought you were going to kill me.”
Peter sucks in a breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, MJ. I’d never hurt you like that—and I hate that I can’t just undo the fact that it was my body and my actions. I’m very sorry. I’ll try to make it up to you every day—I promise.”
MJ nods. The apology sits nicely inside her chest, washing over a bit of calm. If she blinks too fast, she can still see Peter’s hands covered in black. Blinking slowly, she sees the same hands as always between hers, and God, healing is such a journey.
“It’ll be okay,” MJ answers. “I’m sorry for waking you.”
“Ah, don’t worry. As I said, I wasn’t getting any sleep, anyway,” he bends down and kisses her head briefly. “And besides, there’s no place I’d rather be.”
Peter passes him another sandwich. His legs dangle on the edge of the rooftop. “I did want to talk about something. Well, further talk about something.”
“Sure,” Miles says. “What is it?”
“Are you going to be okay, being Spider-Man by yourself?” Peter asks. “Two weeks by yourself is a lot more different than… um… undetermined amount of time.”
“I think I can handle myself just fine,” Miles offers a smile back. “There’s just…”
Peter cocks his head. “Just what?”
Flashes of Phin pass by inside his mind. His dad. Those times he risked his ma’s life, Ganke’s, Hailey’s, despite how relentlessly they believed in him. Uncle Aaron. Martin Li. College. The rest of his life waits for him, and it’s absolutely terrifying—and everything he was familiar with is suddenly shifting. His mentor—his role model—one of his best friends—is finally putting his suit to rest, at least for now.
“Sometimes I don’t think I’m up to the job, man,” Miles sighs. “I know, I know, it’ll change with time… but sometimes I wish I could just do it like you. You made it look so easy.”
Peter’s eyes bug out. Did he say something wrong? Peter is in some sort of disbelief.
“I honestly cannot believe you’re saying that,” Peter says. “You’re, like, literally everything I wished I was seventeen. You’re everything I wish I was now at twenty-five.”
“Dude, that’s too nice—”
“No, it’s not too nice. It’s genuine. Miles, you saved my life— multiple times.” Peter puts his hand over his arm, earnest, “You’ve done things no one would ever do for me. You’ve—you’ve given my best friend another chance. You gave me another chance when I was so, so far gone. I’m sorry. I’m literally so, so sorry for everything I have put you through. I was… a jerk, and terrible, and I love you so much, and there’s no one in this world I would trust more to take over—”
“Pete, you’re gonna kill me, man,” Miles stops him, laughing a little. His heart is growing twice its size. “It’s okay. You would’ve done the same for me.”
“It’s not just that. The city, your community, reforming Martin Li—you—do you know how easy it is to be swept up in revenge, in trying to make people pay? How easy it is to lose yourself to the thrill of anger? I was there, before, when I first lost my uncle. And I thought I grew from that, but look how easy the Symbiote enabled me to go after Kraven. But you? You never once gave in, even though it could have been so easy. You’re just so, so—so amazing, Miles. Never doubt that, not even for a second. I owe you so much. If you need me for anything, I am here for you. Even for college stuff. I’ll—I’ll like, learn music theory on YouTube real fast for you.”
Enough is enough. Miles pulls him in for a hug, clutching, and lets his worries seep away as he’s embraced by Pete. Pete, who used to be his biggest hero and inspiration. Pete, who turned into a friend. Pete, who turned into family. His favorite mentor.
“I’ll miss you, man,” Miles says honestly. “I know you’re not going anywhere, but… you know. The city will miss you, too.”
“I doubt that,” Peter says, pulling back. “They’ll be fine without me. After all, they got you. Who wouldn’t be okay with you?”
“Hey, you got five minutes?” MJ asks. “Or are you too busy?”
Peter looks up from his laptop. “Nah, I got five. What’s up?”
“You sure?”
“Yep, I’m just writing this research proposal. I got in touch with a guy named Reed Richards—he’s amazing, and he also specializes in Physics, so he told me to send him some proposals and he’ll see about funding it.”
“Peter, that’s great! When is that due?”
“Eh, next week, but I do my best work when I’m under pressure. What is it, though?”
“So,” MJ sits next to him, holding her phone up, “rumor got out that you—Spider-Man—might be on hiatus.”
“Oh,” Peter says. He puts the laptop on the coffee table in front of him and gives her his full attention—something easy when it comes to MJ. “Is it… bad?”
“Danika talked about it on her podcast and talked about a project, to put together a little video for the old Spider-Man.”
“The what Spider-Man?”
“Yeah, you’re geriatric,” MJ laughs, handing her phone to him. “Click play.”
His stomach churns in anticipation. People don’t tend to like Spider-Man, but since MJ looks so happy about it…? He nervously presses play, and the video starts playing.
Over a black screen, he can read the text in white letters: Please tell us your favorite Spider-Man memory.
A woman shows up on screen. Her image itches a part of Peter’s brain—he’s seen her before, she—
“Spider-Man helped me find my dog when I was ten,” she says proudly. “I got lost looking for him, and I remember being so scared, and shaking, crying my eyes out. People in New York tend to pass you by, but he—he didn’t.”
Oh my God.
“That was like, eight years ago,” Peter turns to MJ, awed. That girl! She had twin tails back then, and Peter had barely started doing his Spider-Man duties. He had a long day at school, but the second he had seen her, he stopped in his tracks and helped her. She lost her poodle. “Oh my God. This is all coming back to me.”
“Thinking back on it, he definitely sounded super young, like, my younger brother has the same voice cracks he had. But he was so… responsible, and warm, and he did find my dog! He took me swinging with him! I’ll never forget it—the wind got rid of my tears. My dog was at the park, happy as ever, unaware of how much I suffered. Spider-Man took me home and reunited me with my family. Who knows what would have happened to me if he hadn’t been there? And who knows how many other kids had this experience? Thanks, Spidey, if you see this. We love you.”
“Aw,” Peter says. His chest is starting to hurt. “She grew up so well. You wouldn’t believe that was the same kid from before, MJ, I swear.”
“Mhm-hmm,” MJ is smiling so much. “Keep watching.”
A young man is on the screen now. Oh my God, it’s that student from two years ago!
“Spider-Man helped me calm down before my entrance exam,” he narrates with a big smile. “I was freaking out on an alleyway, and I guess he like, saw me or something? He approached me, sat me down, and then reviewed the content with me. He’s pretty damn smart!”
“Med school!” Peter snaps his fingers. “He was trying to get into med school. His backpack was huge, and so many terms flew over my head, but still. He knew his stuff.”
“He didn’t have to, is the thing. Like, New York is so fucking annoying—something is happening all the damn time. I think back on him often, helping me with my billions of copies, quizzing me to see if I got it. He didn’t have to do that. But he did. I’ll always owe him one.” He takes a sip of his drink before adding, “I didn’t get in. But he’s always the brightest part of that section of my life. Maybe next time!”
Peter smiles at the screen. “Yeah, definitely. Definitely next time.”
“Spider-Man was the first person I came out to,” starts another woman, and Peter squints a little to remember her. “It was a little funny. I had never said it out loud. But, ah—he saved me from a car crash! And as he was checking for injuries, I remember he asked, Everything good, sir? and I immediately blurted out, Ma’am, actually, because I guess that’s what my brain thought was important right then. Spider-Man said—I remember this so clearly, he said: Oh! My bad. Everything good, ma’am? And I guess—it changed something for me, that day. I thought If Spider-Man can call me ma’am, I can start telling the rest of the world, too. Never been happier than now.”
“She looks fantastic,” Peter says. “You’re rocking that dress, ma’am.” He does sniffle a little, though—when did his eyes get teary? “How long is this—because I need some tis—”
“Keep watching,” MJ says back.
“Spider-Man walked me to school every day for a week, a year ago,” says a kid—he couldn’t be older than thirteen. Holy shit, Peter knows him, too. He was so small. “I got bullied non-stop, and no one was doing anything about it. I was so angry. And he didn’t tell me to knock it off, to be better than them. He just taught me to defend myself, and that he’d be there for me every morning so I wouldn’t have to start the day alone. And he was!” he adds with a huge smile. “I dunno if he slept or something, but I’d hear him yawning sometimes, but he’d still be with me. I managed to make friends, eventually, and now I know what to do if someone teases me again. I love you, Spidey.”
“When my bike broke during my deliveries, Spider-Man offered to deliver the rest of my pizzas, just so I wouldn’t lose my job and still got paid. The pay I got that day saved me from getting evicted. He literally did so much. If he’s on hiatus—well deserved. He’s done so much.”
“Spider-Man taught math to my son. I’d find him sometimes, perched by his window, doing basic geometry with him. He’s the best guy in New York. Mikhail will always owe you his grade.”
“Spider-Man saved my child from a fire—”
“Spider-Man saved my business from sinking—”
“Spider-Man—”
It finally stings—the tears sting at his eyes at last as more testimonials come through, more memories Peter had taken for granted. “I get it.”
“We’ll miss you, Spider-Man,” says Danika at last. “The city will always welcome you, whenever you decide to come back. We’ll fare just fine with our very own Harlem’s Spider-Man. Come back stronger than ever!”
MJ brings him into a hug. “See? It’s going to be fine,” she rubs his back as he tries to stop his tears. He cries so often these days. “Peter Parker can live just fine for a while. Maybe Spider-Man can help him, for a change.”
He sniffles again. God, he loves MJ so much. “Yeah,” he says, watching as the video shows all the names of the people who participated. “He will.”