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Peter never knew life in New York could feel so quiet.
There’s still noise, of course. There will always be noise in the city. Honking cab horns, countless pedestrians all talking over each other, the ever-present rumble of the subway trains. Those things will never go away. (God, he hopes those things will never go away.)
But Peter’s life is suddenly devoid of the little sounds he’d never realized he could miss so much: Exasperated sighs from Happy whenever Peter asked him a question. The snort of a laugh Ned would make every time he told some nerdy joke that only Peter would understand. The nearly inaudible hum of contentment MJ would let out when she’d nuzzle her face into Peter’s hair. The sizzle of eggs frying every Sunday morning as May made their breakfast, her whispers of “Morning, kiddo,” that would greet him as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
Their absence aches, like nothing Peter’s ever known. It’s like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop—it feels like the pit he gets in his stomach when he knows he knows the answer to a test question but he just can’t remember it, or like his Spider Sense is going off non-stop, but nothing ever happens that he can fix. The thing is, this isn’t some equation he can solve or a criminal he stop. His problem is the solution, he knows that. This grief that he clings to so tightly is the only thing that’s keeping the multiverse from imploding into his home planet.
(It’s true that Peter’s used to carrying the crushing burden of responsibility on his shoulders, but Jesus Christ, the weight of the world has never felt so damn heavy before.)
But Peter is nothing if not adaptable. He finds ways to cope, ways to distract himself, to fill in the gaps where he can.
He starts by keeping a journal, filling the pages with questions he would have asked Happy or May or Mr. Stark in the past. He’s surprised by how much he’s already learned when he thinks back on his time as Spiderman. Something that feels vaguely like hope blooms in his chest when he realizes how far he’s come. He begins to find comfort in the scratch of pencil against paper as he documents advice from loved ones and the superhero guidelines he’s gradually formulated throughout his experiences.
Peter does what he can to stay grounded, to keep his loved ones in his life any way he’s able to. He can’t afford huge Death Star Lego sets like he built with Ned anymore, and he doesn’t have the time to go to the farmer’s market for fresh eggs like May used to do, but he finds ways to keep those memories alive.
He picks up a little Lego R2-D2 keychain that he clips onto the key to his apartment. He finds himself fidgeting with the little robot legs when he’s missing his friend. And when he’s got a morning off, he picks up a dozen eggs from the bodega down the street and cooks up a good homemade breakfast. He’ll never be able to fry his eggs as perfectly as May could, but it doesn’t matter. The scent of eggs in the frying pan and bread in the toaster is the only thing that makes the drafty old apartment feel like home.
There are countless nights he spends up on the roof of the school. He may not be a student there anymore, but it’s as good a place as any for Spiderman to begin his patrols. And the place brings him comfort. He can’t explain it, but it’s as if he can feel the memories that have happened here. He can hear MJ’s voice, can sense her arms wrapped around him, can smell her shampoo. When he’s here… he can almost forget that he’s alone.
So that’s where he finds himself at midnight on New Year’s Eve. Fireworks are booming, illuminating the sky, and the cheers of the crowds gathered around Times Square can be heard in practically every corner of the city… and yet Peter’s life has never felt quieter.
He tears his mask off as soon as he lands on the roof, tossing it aside without a thought as he looks up to the sky. Peter longs for the days he used to spend with May, the two of them coming up with outrageously silly names for the different kinds of fireworks. (His favorites were always the brash, exciting ones May called Rabble-Rousers, but she preferred the quieter beauty of the ones that Peter dubbed Fairy Dust.)
He would give anything to have MJ there, too, mumbling about how if people keep using explosives like that for entertainment, they’re going to burn the city down one day. (She’d have a sparkle in her eye that would give away how beautiful she really thought they looked, though.)
Peter stays perched up there for an hour, maybe two, just soaking in the memories while he can. Soon, it will be a new year. The first year he’ll spend all along. His friends are out of reach, they don’t even know who he is. And May… he can’t think about the fact that a new year is beginning without her, that she’ll never be able to see it. If he does, he thinks he just might break down and never get up again.
Just as Peter’s about to stand up and move on—a New Year doesn’t mean crime comes to a halt, and Spiderman will be busy as ever tonight—there’s a clattering noise at the bottom of the building. Peter’s Spider Sense doesn’t go off, so he knows it’s not a threat, but it’s enough to startle him. Curiosity piqued, he makes his way towards the source of the sound, deducing that it must have come from the rickety metal ladder on the side of the building.
“Hey, Spiderman!” a voice calls from the bottom of the fire escape. “Forgetting something?”
Peter freezes, wide eyed, every hair on the back of his neck standing up. Because he knows that voice—it’s as familiar as the sounds of the city, as comforting as his favorite song. It’s MJ.
MJ is here. At the school. And she somehow spotted Spiderman on the roof. Cue Peter absolutely panicking.
He reaches to pull his hood back on, only to realize he doesn’t have it, and immediately starts fumbling around in the dark drying to find it like an overexcited little kid playing Marco Polo.
“Uh,” he says, pitching his voice lower than usually for some unfathomable reason, desperately trying to find some way to hide his identity. “Really? What would that be?”
“I think you dropped this,” she says, giving no further explanation. Peter curses under his breath and slowly approaches the edge of the building. He cautiously peeks his head over the edge until he can see MJ standing near the bottom of the ladder, holding something up. A firework explodes above them, casting neon lights across her face and revealing that the thing clutched in her fist is none other than Spiderman’s mask.
“Ah. There it is!” He says with an embarrassed chuckle. “I’ve been looking all over for that.”
“Yeah, well, you’re lucky it was me who found it and not some fanboy geek,” she says with a nervous grin. “This thing could have gone for, like, thousands on E-Bay, you know. I could’ve made a fortune from this.”
“Yeah, I don’t doubt it,” he says. He should go down, he knows he should. He needs to get his mask back from her, at least. But every muscle in his body has stopped working. He hasn’t been this close to her in weeks. He doesn’t think he can take that unfamiliar look in her eyes again. It hurts, to remember she doesn’t know him. So he doesn’t take a step from the roof, just stares at her, like a weirdo.
“I don’t bite, you know,” she says after a minute of silence. Her voice then grows softer in understanding. “You can come down. I’m not gonna tell anyone about this. Your identity’s safe with me.”
All Peter can hear is her voice, reassuring him when he was outed by Mysterio’s video. (“I’m not gonna let this change anything for us,” she had said. “We’re going to keep you safe. I promise.”) And how is he supposed to say no to that?
So, hesitantly, he slings a web onto the side of the building and uses it to ever-so-slowly lower himself down. He holds up a hand, waving a little bit before reaching out to take back the mask from her.
“Hi. Uh, thanks,” he blurts out, flinching at the crack in his voice and bracing himself to look into the eyes of a familiar stranger. But when he steps into the narrow patch of light streaming down from the nearest streetlight, MJ blinks in… is that recognition in her face?
“Wait a minute,” she whispers, squinting as she takes a step closer to him, her eyebrows knitted in concentration. “I know you, don’t I?”
Peter’s heart stops.
“Whaaa—” he starts stepping back, stumbling as he trips over his own feet. “No, I don’t think so…”
“Yeah, I do,” she says decisively, still inching forward. “I definitely do. You came into the cafe a while ago. Black coffee, right? You’re Peter Parker.”
His breath catches in his throat as his lips part in surprise. His eyes go wide; if they start to get a little watery, too, well, who could blame him? It’s been far too long since he’s heard someone else say his name.
“You… you remember that?” he says after clearing the tightness in his throat.
She smiles a bit, the corners of her mouth quirking up as she tilts her head in amusement. “‘Course I remember. It’s not everyday someone like you walks into the cafe.”
“You knew?” he sputters, pointing at the Spiderman mask.
“Not about the superhero thing, no,” she laughs, waving away his panic. “But I could tell you were special. Don’t know what it was, but… something in me just knew.”
Peter stands there speechless, blinking at her as if she’d just revealed the true meaning of the universe. MJ’s mouth twists up into a confused smile, giving him the same baffled look she had that day at the cafe.
“Right,” she says, shifting a bit in her discomfort as she holds the mask out to him. “So, do you want this back, or…?”
“Oh, yeah!” he replies, quickly wiping the mist from his eyes before reaching out to take it from her. “Yes, thank you!”
Their fingers brush, sending a chill down Peter’s spine. He grasps at the mask like a lifeline, quickly tugging it over his face to cover up the wave of longing that overcomes him.
“Anytime,” MJ says with a curt nod. He returns the gesture with a quick salute, a wobbly smile hidden underneath the suit. She watches him curiously as he begins to back away. Just as he’s about to turn around, arm raised and ready to sling a web to swing away, she calls out to him.
“Wait!” She cries, stepping closer to him again. He whips his head around to look at her, nearly moving fast enough to put a crick in his neck.
“This is probably gonna sound stupid…” MJ says hesitantly, her arm reaching up to twist her fingers around the chain of her necklace. “But if you ever need some help, like, I don’t know, just someone to talk to, then…”
Peter smiles widely, so big that it hurts, and nods. He should say no. He should run away, stay out of her life, keep her from all of the danger and heartbreak his life creates. But one look at her eyes, and God, he can’t stop himself.
“I know where to find you,” he replies. Finally, he exhales, and it feels like living, like letting go of a breath he’s been holding on to for years. She grins, visibly relaxing at his answer, tension melting away from her shoulders.
“Good,” she says, satisfied. “Don’t be a stranger, Peter Parker.”
He laughs. An actual full-bodied laugh, like the kind he hasn’t let out since the week MJ first found out. So much as changed since then. But, Peter’s coming to realize, that doesn’t mean everything has to be different now.
“I’ll see you around—“ he starts.
“MJ,” she says quickly. “My friends call me MJ.”
“MJ, then,” he replies. Her name has never tasted sweeter on his tongue. “I’ll see you around, MJ.”
With that, Peter swings off into the night, fireworks illuminating his silhouette. He can feel her eyes following him as he disappears in the distance.
From then on, things feel different. It’s still quiet; he tries to keep to himself as best he can. Even though MJ’s offered to be a friend, he doesn’t want to make her a target or put her in danger, so he maintain a fair bit of distance.
But some nights, after a long day of work or a particularly nasty patrol, when he’s bruised and aching, he’ll stop by the cafe and find MJ there, greeting him with a comforting smile and a hot cup of tea. It’s not the same as before. He still misses the warmth of her embrace, the taste of her lips, the late nights they spent talking in hushed whispers, spilling out their souls for each other. He’s not sure if he’ll ever have something like that again. He’ll always be surrounded by this lonely silence. He remembers the haunted look in Peter 3's eyes, and thinks that this may be the only way for Spiderman to truly protect his loved ones.
But even still, when he walks through the door, bell ringing, and she looks up at him with a friendly grin… the quiet doesn’t bother him as much as it did before.