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“Peter,” starts MJ, setting her pencil down from her sketch.
It’s a Sunday afternoon, and Peter is at his best friends’ apartment. It still feels like a miracle to hear her say his name, much less be in MJ and Ned’s living room, eating takeout from a restaurant around the corner. Moments that used to be commonplace now feel like a luxury. He’s never been so satisfied by the click of putting a helmet on a clone mini figure, or the hum of the heating unit by the window.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” she asks, bringing Peter back to reality.
Peter looks up from his lineup of figurines. “Sure. What is it?”
MJ purses her lips, debating what she’s about to say before plowing through. “Did your parents forget about you, too? I just never really hear you talk about them.” At that, Ned gives MJ a look that could be described as a cross between exasperation and curiosity himself.
Peter winces a bit. “Oh, uh, no. They died when I was 5. I was raised by my aunt and uncle. Then my uncle died when I was in high school, and my aunt… she… I lost her right before you guys lost your memories. So. No one really to try to find, I guess.”
Despite being the one to ask the question, MJ didn’t look particularly surprised to hear the answer. “I’m sorry about your aunt.” She said sympathetically. “And your uncle. And your parents. That sounds like a lot.”
Ned set down the starfighter he was working on, switching all of his attention to his friend. “Yeah, Peter, I’m sorry you had to go through that by yourself for so long.” He pauses, face scrunching up with concern. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Peter gives a small smile. “Thanks, guys. It’s ok. I mean, who hasn’t had a rough time these last few years with the blip and all? We don’t have to talk about it.”
Realizing MJ and Ned don’t quite seem convinced, Peter quickly redirects the conversation. “Ned, what’s the next section I should work on? I finished the mini figures.” And with that, they soon return to what they were doing, an easy silence passing over as Peter and Ned build and MJ sketches.
But Peter thinks. About how the first time he started over, he was only a toddler. How if they asked him for more details about his parents, he wouldn’t be able to give them. He didn’t remember much about them before the plane crash — only the imprint of his mother’s smile here, the warmth of his father’s embrace there. The lack of memories doesn’t hurt as hard now, not like it used to. It’s almost comforting, how simple it is to lose memories because of the passage of time rather than a sorcerer’s spell.
And Peter thinks about his aunt and uncle, back when that was simpler too, when they would share how their days went over dinner in the apartment, over a little round wooden table tucked into the corner of the kitchen. Not that unlike what he and his friends were doing now, he supposes. Although he was much more forthcoming with Aunt May and Uncle Ben than he currently was with Ned and MJ. Through no fault of theirs, of course, but he’s gotten used to building walls around himself for so long, and holding everyone at an arm’s reach.
You don’t have to do this alone, he reminds himself, the sentiment of what Aunt May told him echoing in the present. I can let them in again.
Encouraged, Peter breaks the settled silence and gestures towards one of the decorations on the wall. “I like the new wall art, by the way.”
It’s a striking photograph of the Brooklyn Bridge. As someone who’s taken many photographs of the same subject himself, he understood on a personal level how difficult it was to come up with a new perspective on a shot someone’s taken a million times before. To take something that’s been done before and make it seem like it’s being done for the first time wasn't easy.
MJ and Ned both bring their eyes towards him, and he pushes himself to continue. “My uncle liked photography, and he taught me a bit. Rule of thirds, and all of that.” He doesn’t mention how he made a living off of photos of his superhero persona, in those early days after everyone forgot who he was. It was much more important, to him, to give them some pieces of his aunt and uncle to latch onto. “My aunt was never a big photographer. But she would help auction my uncle’s photographs, and the profits went to a soup kitchen. She always was looking to help someone out.” He waits for their reactions, afraid that he’s said too much. He didn’t want his past to be a burden for them.
“They sound like they were really great, Peter,” Ned says earnestly.
MJ nods in agreement. “Yeah, that was really nice of them.”
Despite them having met her, Peter’s not sure if they’ll ever be able to actually remember who Aunt May was unless they’re able to get back their memories of Peter. Even after four years, he still didn’t understand how the spell worked, finding more repercussions of it regularly. But for a moment, it feels like they do remember, and Peter tries to hold onto that for as long as he can.
__________________________
The city is humming around them as Peter, MJ, and Ned walk around Manhattan. They’re heading to a specific game store for Ned to pick up a vintage collectible he’s been keeping an eye out for, and MJ and Peter are along for the journey.
Peter knows better than to crane his neck up at the skyscrapers. He’s seen it so many times, but sometimes he’s tempted to look up, if only to get a sense of just how high he’s swinging at night. He couldn’t help but notice how blue the sky was today, as if it was a rolled-out backdrop for the buildings.
They pass by a woman filming outside of a new, trendy restaurant that just opened on the Upper East Side. “Remember when you were an influencer, Ned?” MJ shook her head, laughing to herself. “I still have no idea who watched those videos. I mean, I can’t believe we even had 10 people watching it.”
Ned raises his arms in defense. “Hey, some people must have liked them!”
Peter blushed. “I watched them.” He hated the way it went quiet, how MJ and Ned keep giving him looks tinged with pity. “It was nice. It was like I could be there with you guys.” He shrugged. “Sorry, it probably seems creepy.”
“I think that’s why I kept making them, Peter,” Ned says. “I think it always felt like someone out there would care what we were up to.” He thinks for a moment before continuing. “Actually, since we officially re-met, I haven’t done a single livestream.”
“Oh, that’s — I guess that makes sense. I did really like them.” He tentatively kept going. “Did you really get into a food fight in the banana lounge?”
Ned laughed. “Oh, we got into a food fight in the banana lounge, alright. I wasn’t able to record it, but you wouldn’t believe it. MJ was going full Mario Kart mode, leaving banana peels all over the lounge for the other team to slip up on. I was busy making a wall with all the extra cardboard boxes. It was awesome.” Ned’s smile broke out into a huge grin, and Peter couldn’t help but mirror it.
“And for the record, we won against the other team.” MJ chimed in.
“Oh,” began Peter seriously, “I didn’t doubt that for a second.” They cross the street and walk under yet another sidewalk shed.
“Did you want to go to MIT?” MJ can’t help herself from asking. “Would you really have moved to Boston? Spider-Man leaving New York?”
Peter takes in her question. “Yeah. I would — I would’ve done anything to go to MIT with you guys. I did everything to go to MIT with you guys. That’s how this whole mess happened. My identity was revealed by Mysterio; I was a wanted fugitive because of him, you guys were implicated because of your association with me, and so because of the scandal MIT, couldn’t admit the three of us.” He paused, thinking about what to say next. “I mean, I think I would’ve gotten in otherwise. I had the Stark internship and had crazy letters of recommendation and everything. But there was the scandal, and so I asked Dr. Strange to make everyone forget Peter Parker is Spider-Man — with some exceptions — so we could all go to MIT. Mistakes were made, so the multiverse kind of collapsed, and I met myself from different universes, which was cool, but then I had to have everyone forget who I am to fix it, which was not cool.”
He took a deep breath, then chuckled a little to himself. “So yeah, I wanted to go to MIT.” He leaves it there for a second before realizing he forgot the other part of her question. “And I would’ve moved to Boston. We were going to have an apartment, the three of us.” MJ, as usual, looks a bit uncomfortable at the idea of what she said as someone before her memory was erased. “Or, that was the plan, anyways,” he continued. “But I don’t know if I would’ve commuted between with some technology somehow to patrol New York, or if I would’ve patrolled Boston. I might’ve taken a break. That was a different time.”
“Wow. I wish you could’ve gone to MIT with us, Peter.” Ned says emphatically. He sounds distraught at what Peter just shared, and there was a tinge of guilt.
Peter couldn’t let that stand. “Thanks, Ned. But I’m so glad you guys were able to go. You two had to leave. I don’t know if I made this clear before, but I always would’ve searched for you. I don’t know when or how I would’ve gotten around to telling you everything, but I needed to know you were safe. That it was all worth it, somehow. And you gave me a lifeline to cling to with those videos, Ned.” He could feel MJ about to say something about him playing the ‘keeping them safe’ thing, so he continues. “And yes, MJ. I know now the keeping you two safe shouldn’t have been my own decision. That you two should’ve had some say.”
MJ looks intently at Peter, as if reformulating what she was going to say next. “Huh. I didn’t realize the videos helped you that much.” She gives herself another moment before continuing. “I don’t know if this helps, but I think you would’ve liked it. But I think you’d always like New York more. You’re good staying here.”
“Yeah, that’s me,” Peter says, looking up into that blue sky. He’s been abroad, to outer space, and to Staten Island. But somehow, New York was the only place he’s called home. “I’m good at staying still.”
He’d thought about what it would be like to leave. He certainly daydreamed about attending MIT. But they were only ever daydreams — he’s never been left the city for too long, minus the blip, and he doesn’t know if he ever will. At the end of the day, he’s a New Yorker, through and through.
__________________________
For once, Peter has Ned over at his apartment. It’ll only be this once, since he’s helping him load up boxes for him to move into theirs. Ned and MJ decided that since he’s pretty much there all the time anyway, they might as well invite him to just live with them. Incredibly, they had an extra room for him to move into, since they were originally going to have a third roommate, either being MJ’s (now ex) boyfriend or one of Ned’s friends. But funnily enough, all those plans fell through.
Sometimes Peter couldn’t believe the easy coincidences of all of it, like how MJ felt that she was waiting for something, or how Ned developed the Spidey Tracker. It was as if the world was just waiting for him to catch up, and that all the pieces would fall into place after. That finally, karma could be in his favor for once, and while he had to struggle with the loss of all his family and being forgotten by everyone in his life as a teenager, he at least didn’t have to worry about apartment leases matching up.
They have music blaring on a portable speaker, and the kitchen is full of cardboard boxes. “Hey, Peter, can you pass me the tape?” Ned asks.
Peter, not one to not show off at this point, shoots web at the tape across the room, sends it flying to his hand, and un-webs it to pass it to Ned. “Here you go.”
Ned takes it, still somewhat in awe of seeing Peter do something Spider-Man-like. His mouth is open, as if a question is about to fall out.
“Do you want to ask something, Ned?” Peter offers.
“Okay, so, I know we’re already pretty far into our, uh, re-meeting, I mean you’re moving into our apartment now, but did I ever get your full origin story? Because I know how your web-shooters work and everything, but why are you Spider-Man? Like, maybe not philosophically, but literally. Bitten by a radioactive spider, right, but how does that even happen? What were you doing?” Ned breaks his eye contact. “Sorry, I’m just still trying to wrap my head around it.”
Peter places a few bowls into his box, balancing them on top of his plates. “I was on a high school field trip. You were there too, actually. I don’t know if you remember going — it was the ‘XXXCorp’ one? Really suspicious; we signed a whole lot of NDAs to be there.”
“I do remember that trip! Oh my god, my Lola did not want me to go. I had to beg to get my permission slip signed.” His mouth dropped. “But the radioactive spider was there? How did no one notice you becoming Spider-Man that day?”
Peter was starting to get a sense of déjà vu from the first time he explained it to Ned. “It was there. I think it escaped from behind some glass? I got bit, it hurt, and everything was completely normal until that night, and the next morning, I was, like, totally different. My eyesight got better, I was taller, I was jacked. I mean, I was scared, but it was cool.” Peter gave Ned a knowing look. “Don’t try to recreate it, though.”
“I would never,” Ned said vehemently, finally using the tape.
“Ok, good. Also, while we’re on the topic, I don’t have venom, I don’t lay eggs, and I don’t have a spider army at my command.”
Ned looked confused. “Are those normal questions you get?”
Peter shrugged. “Not exactly,” he said. “Just ones that I felt had to be answered.” While he felt like he answered Ned’s original question, he wasn’t quite ready to move on from the conversation. “And philosophically, I’m Spider-Man because with great power, there must also be great responsibility. I think that’s the philosophy that all Spider-Men share.”
His friend dragged the tape over another box. “I mean, I never questioned why you did it. It takes just a few sentences with you to know you’re the type of guy to try to save everyone.”
Peter thinks about the times he wasn’t so sure about that. How before Uncle Ben died, he didn’t accept that he had a responsibility to protect others. He also can’t help but think about how close he was to killing the Green Goblin after his aunt died. He knew he wasn’t immune to making mistakes. “I try to be that person, I think.” He thinks about his aunt, how much she risked so that others could have a second chance back in their worlds. “It’s a choice to take up that responsibility. And it’s not always the easy choice.”
Satisfied he said his piece, Peter peers into the box he was filling. “You think we need to fold up another box?”
Ned nods. “Yeah, let me get one.”
__________________________
MJ is still finding a job that would put her MIT degree to use without selling her soul, so she’s picked up work as a barista at a coffee shop around the corner in the meantime. Peter’s job as Spider-Man doesn’t necessarily have regular hours, either, so they tend to find themselves in the apartment together without Ned there, like on a random Thursday at noon. It’s not like they hadn’t considered this before Peter moved in, but it never makes the elephant in the room of their situation any easier to address.
So they don’t address it. Except for when they do.
Peter offers to make the two of them lunch, and MJ is leaning against the wall, absentmindedly playing with her broken black dahlia necklace as he cooks. He sets the pot of rice on the back burner to rest, and can’t help but look towards the aforementioned piece of jewelry.
“Why do you always do that?” She blurts out, seemingly out of nowhere.
“Do what?” He responds with genuine confusion.
She gives him a questioning look. “You stare at this necklace. Every time I wear it. Why? Is it cursed, or something?”
Having way too many words and no real coherent way to put them in, not yet, he responds with his own question. “Why do you wear it, MJ? Where did you get it from?”
“You don’t think I haven’t asked myself those questions?” She answers back, frustration building in her voice. “I put it on every day because I put it on the day before. I think I got it in London from some man in the tower when there was that attack, but for a necklace that’s so important to me, I can’t remember why it would end up in my hands. That’s why I’m asking you, Peter. Because every odd and inexplicable thing in my life somehow ties back to you.”
Peter instantly feels like he was unfair for doing that to her, for again withholding information only he knows, even if just for a few moments. He just wanted to know if he was replaced in her memory with someone else.
“As far as I’m aware, it’s not cursed. It’s — I wanted to give it to you. You’re right.”
MJ didn’t look satisfied with that answer. “That’s it? You wanted to give me a broken necklace in London, and had someone pass it along?”
“No, no, that’s not all of it. I got it in Venice, and I had this plan to give you the necklace in Paris, on top of the Eiffel Tower and everything. But then Mysterio happened, and I gave it to Happy to give it to you, and it got broken in the process. It was supposed to be a black dahlia, like —”
“The murder.” She finished with him. “I actually like it better broken.”
Like his conversation about his spider bite with Ned, he couldn’t help but feel déjà vu at their exchange. Unlike when they were on the Tower Bridge, they don’t kiss during it. It wouldn’t feel right to, to take the merit from his high school self. He has to re-earn it with MJ.
“I’m happy you like it, MJ.” He smiles.
She seems on the verge of asking more follow-up questions when the timer for the rice beeps. Peter plates up their lunches, and they’re back to being roommates.
__________________________
The three of them are once again in the living room, but this time on a Friday evening. Evening, not night, in particular, because that’s when Spider-Man has a patrol scheduled. But they have a low-key version of a game night going, or whatever you would call playing Never Have I Ever with three people.
MJ smirks. “Put a finger down if you’ve ever been to space.”
“I feel like this is targeted,” Peter groans, putting a finger down.
“Sorry, Peter, it’s just too easy.” Ned jokes. “Ok, I’ve got one. Put a finger down if you’ve ever been flown out to Germany by Tony Stark to fight in the Avenger’s civil war.”
“How do you even know about that?” Peter complains, reluctantly putting a finger down.
Ned looks at him questioningly. “It was on the news, Peter.”
“Fine. Put a finger down if you attended at least half the AcaDec meetings in high school.” Peter challenges.
MJ protests. “I think that’s an unfair advantage. We don’t know if you attended half the Academic Decathlon meetings.”
Peter gives MJ a hard look. “I was a high school teenage vigilante with a secret identity. It’s a miracle I attended half my classes.”
“I’ll let it slide.” MJ acquiesces. “Put a finger down if you have an elaborate handshake with your friend.”
Now Ned grumbles alongside Peter. “This whole game doesn’t feel fair. We know too much about each other.” That statement pulls Peter out of his grumbling. Do they? He feels like he still knows way more about them than they do him. But maybe that gap was slowly being bridged. He’s been more forthcoming about what happened in their shared past, and Ned and MJ have filled him in on their years away.
Suddenly, Ned appears to be hit with a jolt of inspiration. “Put a finger down if you dated someone else in this room.” MJ and Peter both give Ned a look.
“Really, Ned?” MJ says, sounding disappointed.
“Sorry! I just wanted to get both of you with the same one.”
Before MJ could add more fuel to the fire, Peter speaks up. “Put a finger down if you graduated from high school.”
“Peter, how did you come up with this after the AcaDec question?” MJ sighed.
Ned just looked disappointed at putting a finger down. “I forgot you could use the whole no records thing in your favor.”
Peter remembers the GED textbook that was thick enough to act as a doorstop. How losing all records of himself in the world meant having to start over in ways that he never could’ve imagined, and how not letting himself connect with his friends left him drifting aimlessly through those four years of solitude. “Yeah, it’s gotta be useful for something, right?” He quips.
“You guys are both losers,” MJ remarks. “We can switch to a different game, if you’d like.”
“Sure,” Peter smiles easily. “You choose.”
She picks some kind of card game, and as she deals them in, Peter can’t help but feel that it no longer feels like he’s starting over. That seems too negative, he rationalizes. It’s as if they're beginning again.