(Manhattan, Pier 35)
Early in the morning, the sound of seagulls and heavy machinery can be heard over the honking horns of early morning traffic common in the city. Men can be seen working hard on the docks, loading and unloading crates, shouting and yelling. Nobody would suspect anything was wrong, until they got closer and saw that some of the men were armed.
Up above, perched on a rooftop overlooking the area, Spider-Man, Red Sonja, and Black Cat are peering through binoculars observing the men.
"Are you sure there are guns in those crates?" Spider-Man questions his thief girlfriend.
Black Cat glances at her beau with a raised brow, "Are you questioning my ability to get good intel on something so basic?" She playfully inquires.
"I just don't want to beat up thugs that are smuggling knock-off Prada," Spider-Man jokes as he puts the binoculars down, "I mean, do you know how embarrassing it'll be when everyone hears about it."
"You do realize that counterfeit goods is a billion dollar industry, right?" Sonja chimes in, recalling Mary Janes memories on this sort of thing, "They make almost as much as the drug industry but get less attention."
"I know," Spidey tells her, slight indignation in his voice, "I'm just saying, it's not as cool as stopping guns and drugs."
Cat rolls her eyes at his childish retort. "Can we go and kick their butts now?"
"Almost," he states, looking through the binoculars and eyeing the scene carefully. He scrutinizes the boxes and draws a connection between this and a previous encounter. "The markings on those crates. They're the same ones we saw during the Kingpin's last weapons shipment the other day."
Black Cat's smirk becomes smug. "Told you. My sources never let me down."
Her confidence was matched by a playful arrogance that made Peter grin despite himself. They were back on familiar ground—not just physically, perched above the unsuspecting smugglers, but in the rhythm of their shared escapades.
"Okay," he says, putting the binoculars away. "Let's do this."
In perfect unison, they spring into action. In one graceful leap, Spidey hurls himself over the side of the building, firing webs to swing down toward the armed men below. Sonja wastes no movements as she jumps to the ground, her sword unsheathed and ready for action. Cat uses her grappling hook to effortlessly propel herself forward.
When they land, they make it a spectacle by taking out the guards posted at the gate with Spider-Man landing on one back and the other Sonja elbowing him in the face. The other goons, though surprised, scramble for their guns. Before they can get a shot off, Spidey webs two of them to the idling truck by them and leaps to kick another in the face. Red Sonja disarms another by slashing through his arm, though doesn't actually cut the man, and he elicits a scream of agony. She kicks him in the gut, sending him sprawling backwards into his friends. Black Cat fires her hook to one pointing his weapon at them, and it attaches to the man's belt. She reels him in and kicks in the face.
As they fight, Sonja glances at Peter with Mary Jane's concern bleeding through her warrior visage. "Have you spoken to your friends?" she asked between punches.
"Not since I dropped the Phoenix bomb," he replies, swinging from the truck's roof to kick another thug off his perch.
It's been three days since he told his team all about his situation with the Phoenix and Jean. He knows he made the right decision in telling them when he did. With the Phoenix being hatched and given a physical form, he wouldn't have been able to hide it. But in the typical way his life plays out, the doing the right thing bit him in the butt. He hasn't been to the mansion or spoken to his team since that day, since he figured they needed space from him.
"You're avoiding them," Sonja accuses, her voice a blend of MJ's empathy and her own blunt edge, as she slices through a man's midsection. She kicks him in the back of his head to knock him out.
He ducks to dodge some bullets and shrugs. "I'm letting them cool off." He responds before he lands back on the truck and fires a web line to snag the gun from the shooter below.
Felicia joins him on top of the truck, crouched and claws clinging to the roof. "Sounds like someone feels guilty," she teased, flipping down to disable another guard with effortless flair.
Peter opens his mouth to protest but is cut off by a loud crash behind them. One of the trucks roars to life; its driver slammed on the gas in a desperate escape attempt. With what looks practiced coordination, but is actually improvised, Spider-Man shoots a web at its bumper while Black Cat disables its tires with a well-aimed toss of caltrops.
He pulls with all his strength and vehicle skids and spins to an ungainly stop, inches from the pier's edge where Sonja had her hand out to stop it for good. Crates tumbled out onto the dock and Sonja pries one open with barely any effort. Weapons spill out— AK-47's, Uzi's, and rocket launchers.
Spider-Man whistles, "This definitely isn't knock-off Prada." He comments.
Felicia raises a brow at him, "Sound a little too happy there, Spider."
"If they were Gucci bags, I'd never hear the end of it from Johnny," he says.
Now both women roll their eyes at him.
"Wow, I can actually hear both of you rolling your eyes at me." He comments.
The sound of sirens prompts the three of them to turn around to see the boys in blue roll up in their cars.
"We should go," Spider-Man suggests, dropping the weapon back into the crate and dusting his hands off. "NYPD can handle cleanup."
Sonja steps away from the overturned truck, sheathing her sword in one fluid motion. "We've been avoiding the police a lot. Why? You're on good terms with the mayor now, aren't you?"
"Jameson might be okay with me these days, but plenty of cops still think we're vigilante menaces," Peter explains, firing a webline toward the nearest rooftop. "Trust me, even with J.J. in my corner, some of them would love an excuse to slap cuffs on all of us."
The women exchange a look, one that speaks to the shared understanding they've developed, before they follow him to the rooftop. Peter sees it and feels a warmth that tempers the stress of the past few days. He's lucky to have them, even if he wonders how long that luck will last with Gwen back in the picture. They land on the same rooftop they started from not ten minutes ago and wacth as the NYPD close the area off.
With that situation taken care of, Spider-Man turns his attention to the two women, "We're still on for tonight right?" He inquires.
"Absolutely," Sonja confirms, her fierce demeanor softening slightly. "Mary Jane is looking forward to it. We both are."
"But," Felicia interjects, raising a clawed finger, "only if you promise to talk to your team today."
She knows he won't be as much fun with something like this hanging over his head.
Peter groans, shoulders slumping. "Come on, can't I get at least a week of avoidance before the inevitable confrontation?"
"No," both women answer resolutely in unison.
"The longer you wait, the worse it gets," Sonja adds, her voice carrying the wisdom of countless battles—both physical and emotional. "Trust me, my love. Some conflicts must be faced head-on, regardless of the possible outcome."
He groans some more before he lets out a reluctant sigh, "Fine. But don't be upset if I'm late because Logan gutted me or Rogue beat me to a pulp."
"You'll be in our thoughts whilst we enjoy ourselves." Sonja quips as she saunters away.
Both Spider-Man and Black Cat watch her leave. The woman certainly has come a long way from her fist days here.
"Was that my influence, yours, or MJ's?"
"Hard to say."
(Avengers Mansion)
Opening the entrance to his mansion, Peter closes it behind him, takes off his mask, waits patiently as the rapid pitter patter sound gets a bit louder. Before long a little grey blur launches itself at him and he catches it.
"Hi Jeff," he greets his pet land shark with a fond smile.
The little guy has his tongue out and is wagging his tail in excitement, clearly happy to see his owner. He is even wagging his feet in the air in an effort to try and get closer and lick Peter's face.
Peter huffs in amusement at his unusual pet, "You're a menace, you know that?" He says affectionately, giving Jeff a good belly rub. The land shark squirms in delight, its razor-sharp teeth harmlessly gnashing the air.
"I swear dat ting is more dog than shark," a gravelly voice announces from behind him.
Peter turns to see Ben Grimm trudging into the foyer, looking particularly put-upon. The baby Phoenix is perched atop his rocky head, its feathers glowing with a soft orange light as it preens itself contentedly. He can't help but grin at the sight of his friend, who can match the Hulk in terms of strength, is being overwhelmed by bird comparable to a canary.
Peter cannot fight the impulse to mock his friend, "You would make the loveliest cherub statue."
"Very funny, Webhead." Ben grumbles as he points to the bird on his head, "Dis cosmic chicken won't stop using me as a roost and has been peckin' at my head for hours."
"Does it hurt?" Peter asks his friend.
"Not da point." Ben states before he points at Jeff, "And dat ting has been stealing my sandwiches every time I make one."
Peter looks at his pet shark and makesa mental note to start training it and the bird, to prevent them from misbehaving. "Maybe you should stand in the fountain and start spewing water," he suggests with a laugh. "Make it feel at home."
"Go stand in da middle of traffic." Ben shoots back as he gently plucks the bird from his head with one massive hand and deposits it onto Peter's shoulder. "Now dat I've been relieved of duty, I got a meatball sandwich to get back to."
The man lumbers off, but not before Peter calls out after him, "Hey, are the others around?"
Ben pauses long enough to answer over his shoulder, "Carol an' Wanda are in da theater wit Hope an' Rulkie. Logan's raiding yer liquor cabinet with Thor."
Peter nods in thanks and watches his friend go. He was able to speak with Ben the day after his big reveal back at the Baxter Building since the hero has been spending so much time there. When they spoke, Grimm told Peter he was more disappointed in the younger hero than he was upset with him. He lectured Spider-Man on how good leaders don't keep important information from their teammates.
Jeff seems to sense his shift in mood, nuzzling against his chest with a small concerned sound. The baby Phoenix trills softly, its warmth intensifying slightly against his neck.
"Guess it's time to face the music," Peter mutters to himself. The bird on his shoulder chirps in encouragement as he sets Jeff down gently and walks to the media room.
With a deep breath, Peter heads to the media room. The sound of a movie playing suggests it's not just background noise, and he braces himself for what waits inside. The baby makes a soft trilling sound, as if sensing his unease and offering a note of encouragement.
He enters to find Carol and Wanda on the couch, with Hope sitting cross-legged in front of them on the floor, and Betty on the lazy boy beside them. They're watching a black and white noir film, on a ridiculously large tv, a choice that surprises him—especially from an audience he figured was more inclined to select Die Hard over Double Indemnity.
He hesitates to interrupt for a second before he clears his throat and announces, "Ladies."
Hope glances his way first, her eyes narrowing. The others turn to look, each reaction a different shade of emotion. "Look who finally grew a set and decided to show up," she says, her tone cutting but not unkind.
Peter winces and rubs his neck awkwardly, feeling her words strike a chord. He offers a contrite smile, "Okay, I deserve that." He pauses, struggling to find the right words. "I figured you guys needed time to process and cool off before I came waltzing back." His voice is tinged with guilt, as his gaze moves across the room to gauge each of the women's reactions.
Carol doesn't seem mad, more disappointed really but tinged with understanding. Wanda has this look that tells him she wants to get something off her chest, he can tell because he's seen that look plenty in his reflection. Betty doesn't have much of a reaction, but he wasn't expecting one from her. And Hope is definitely angry, but she's staring at the ground instead of at him.
She's still peeved— that much is clear, but her anger isn't fiery like the day of his confession. More like smoldering embers.
He fully enters the room as Carol hits pause on the movie and he begins, "Look, I figured you guys weren't in the mood to hear me say how sorry I am for not telling you guys sooner about my situation, but you have to understand where I was coming from."
Carol leans forward, her eyes softening slightly. "From where, exactly, Peter? Help us understand, because from where we're sitting, it looks like you didn't trust us."
Peter takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of their stares. "It wasn't about trust. Believe me. With some of you guys, I trusted you with who I am underneath the mask. And if you know me, then you know how big a deal that is."
Carol is the only one to nod in understanding, while the other ladies just keep looking at him, with Hope having a glare.
"Me being the host had more to do with not wanting to start the fighting again after it all ended." He states. "I knew if I'd told you guys I was the Phoenix host right after the whole Avengers versus X-Men fiasco, it would've sparked another conflict before the dust had even settled," Peter continues, slumping against the doorframe. "The X-Men were devastated after losing Xavier, the Avengers were full of guilt about their part in it, and here I am, suddenly with the very thing everyone fought over."
Only Carol and Wanda look at him with looks of understanding, while Hope has her angry look pointed to the ground.
"Must be nice," she says with a hint of resentment. "Having Jean teach you to play with cosmic fire while some of us were left to burn."
A feeling of empathy comes on to Peter as he looks at Hope. So she isn't mad at him then. But she is mad over the unfair circumstances of his situation, circumstances that seem unfair and arbitrary.
He struggles to find words, to put her mind at ease, knowing full well how fragile the situation is. He hopes to reassure and say something meaningful that will let her know he's not taking any of this for granted.
"Hope," he starts gently, prompting her to look at him, "I didn't know about Jean until much later. And believe me when I say this, Jean is not the same Jean everyone knew. She let go of her humanity. And you should also believe me when I say, right now it's easy for me to be hosting this thing cause it's only as dangerous as woodpecker."
The bird chirps angrily and pecks his head.
"See." He says, ignoring it, even though it does hurt a little.
Hope finds a little amusement at the sight.
Carol rises from the couch, crossing her arms. "I wasn't mad about the Phoenix, Peter. I was upset you didn't tell me. After everything we've been through together."
"I know," he says, shoulders slumping slightly. "And I'm sorry for that. Really, I am."
A few seconds pass before Carol says, "So long as you don't have any more secrets that we need to know then we're good."
"…Define 'need to know.'"
Carol narrows her eyes at him.
He raises his hands in defense, "I'm kidding. C'mon, bad jokes are my thing."
Carol rolls her eyes at him and sits back down.
Peter turns his sights to the last person in the room that his lie affected, Wanda, who remains quiet for the moment, as her gaze lowers to her hands. He wonders what she is thinking and hopes that she's not blaming herself for all this. He knows she does blame herself for the mutant extinction, and how the X-Men relied on the Hope to harness the Phoenix to save the mutant race, essentially robbing her of a childhood to train her, and of course Cyclops killing Xavier. Wanda blames herself for all of it.
Wanda looks up at him, her expression inscrutable yet softened by something he can't quite place. There's a flicker of hesitance, then resolution in her eyes. "Can we talk?" she asks abruptly.
Surprised but willing, Peter nods. "Sure."
She stands and he follows Wanda out of the room and into the den. He closes the doors so they can have some privacy. He braces himself for what she has to say.
"I'm sorry."
He cocks his head slightly at her statement; confused on what she's referring to since he's the one here to apologize.
"Back when I nearly wiped away mutants from the Earth," she clarifies, her words laden with regret and memory. "The world I made where everyone's desires came true." She looks straight at him now, eyes unwavering but full of old wounds. "I remember now, what I did to you."
Peter stiffens as understanding dawns on him like a sudden chill. That world—her world—where he'd been married to Gwen Stacy, where they had children and happiness together, where he'd lived a life both extraordinary and simple. A superhero and movie star. His Unlce Ben was alive, so were his parents. A life without sacrifice or pain or cosmic burdens. He remembers waking up from that perfect dream into the harsh reality of his real life—and the strain it put on his already fractured relationship with Mary Jane back then.
His silence makes Wanda press on. "Back at the Baxter Building, I was unable to understand why that woman who crawled out of the grave looked so familiar to me. But when you revealed your identity to us, it all came crashing back." She looks away in shame, "I know you hate me for it," she continues, voice cracking slightly at the edges before steadying itself again. "Like most of them do."
Peter takes a breath before he takes a seat. "I did," he admits with brutal honesty and he can see from the corner of his eye that Wanda is afraid of what he is going to say, "I was mad beyond anything you can imagine. So mad that when the world changed back I had thoughts about killing you and your brother." The confession hangs in the air between them, raw and unvarnished.
Wanda flinches as if struck, her lips parting but no words coming forth.
"But I forgave you not long after."
Wanda looks startled by his confession. She still stands, almost afraid to move closer. "Why?" she asks, incredulous.
He gains a small fond smile, "You can thank Mary Jane for that."
Wanda remains silent, waiting for him to continue, her eyes a mixture of disbelief and curiosity. Peter leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"After everything changed back," he begins slowly, "I was a mess. I avoided talking to MJ for days until she had enough and confronted me. I told her everything. At first, I thought this was it. We're gonna break up for good this time. But then she surprised me. She told me she always knew Gwen and I would have ended up together if... well, if things had been different."
"Mary Jane showed me how to be understanding that day. She helped me see that forgiveness isn't about excusing what happened but understanding the person behind the action." Peter looks at his teammate. "You were going through a lot that day and before too. It all came crashing down when your dad killed your brother and…" He stops himself when he realizes what he's doing, "I'm sorry I don't mean to make you relive-"
"Its fine," Wanda says with a relieved smile. This is the first someone has actually said they forgave for what she did. Many of her former teammates, including her ex-husband, have expressed their disdain for her and her actions. And her friends all but avoid saying anything about her episode. But here is Spider-Man, a hero she barely has history with and frankly did not care for before, saying he has forgiven her for her transgression against him. "Thank you."
Peter smiles back at her, "Like I said, don't thank me, thank MJ."
"She sounds like an amazing woman," Wanda states and lets out a small laugh, "I can see why Hope is a fan of her."
"She show you her board?"
Wanda nods in confirmation and adds, "When we were discussing how you managed to get three women to simultaneously date you."
"Well, when she figures that out, tell her to let me know, too." He quips.
They share a good laugh together. And for the first time in a long time, Wanda no longer feels the unbearable guilt she carries. She feels a little bit of peace.
"Anyway," he says as he stands up, "I gotta get going. Lot more apologies to make."
"I understand," she says with a nod, "Good luck."
He nods in thanks and Wanda heads back to the theater room, where her friends have already started the movie up again.
She takes her seat on the same couch as Carol, who is leaning on the arm of the couch and glances at her curiously, "What'd you have to talk to him about?"
Wanda keeps her eyes on the film but has a small smile on her face, "Just making amends."
(Baxter Building)
Life has thrown Mary Jane some curveballs, even before Peter. Her mother dying, her sister not learning from their mothers mistakes, the typical stuff one would expect from life. And then, once she was with Peter, she entered into the realm of the impossible and often ridiculous. From dealing with black goo aliens to jealous cat thief girlfriends.
Course now she understands the appeal of said girlfriend.
But even with all that, this curveball is one she doesn't know how to take. Mary Jane just stares at Gwen, still having a hard time believing she is alive. She looks exactly like the last time MJ saw her all those years ago. And it is so strange.
It's hard to describe what she's feeling right now. There is heartache, that's for certain. But it's for the girl in front of her, not for herself. She is trying to imagine what Gwen will go through when she wakes up. She died and the world kept spinning, life had moved on. Devastation is the only thing MJ feels when she places herself in Gwen's position. Everyone she knew had gone and build lives without her.
She lowers her eyes to the ground, a wave of guilt washes over her that she knows she shouldn't feel. Why should she feel guilty? She lived her life the best she could after she lost her best friend. She shouldn't feel bad for that. Gwen would have wanted that.
Then again, Gwen would have wanted to have been here all this time to live a life with them all. MJ closes her eyes and imagines the life that Gwen would have had, had she lived. MJ sees her graduating Summa cum laude, if Peter still quit college or his other duties got in the way. That graduation walk transitions to her walking down the aisle in a beautiful wedding dress. Her uncle or one of her cousins escorting her to the man waiting at the end. Peter Parker.
Her and Peter would have been happy, more than happy. She sees them with not just one, but two little girls. And they would have been close. Like MJ and Gwen. Just like they were before she died. Butting heads but still being the best of friends. MJ would have been a part of their lives, a big part. Like an aunt to Peter and Gwen's kids. She'd have been happy for them both, even if it hurt at times. She would have put on a smile to hide the pain.
She opens her eyes again and looks at her resurrected friend. That was what was waiting for them if things had played out like they were supposed to. MJ's career would have taken off even faster and better than before. Because she had to force herself to work even harder to bury the pain of losing Peter. It is both a tortuous and beautiful life that could have been.
Gwen would have wanted to been here to live her life with Peter. Maybe that's why MJ feels guilty. Because she knew that the life she had with Peter was the one Gwen was supposed to have. Instead, the supermodel had gotten that life with Peter.
MJ sighed, recalling the reality that had played out instead. She and Peter had lived a life where she had to lie to almost everyone she knew to be with him. They never made it down the aisle, though God knows they'd come close. She was at the alter, but he never showed. Which was going to be the theme of their entire marriage. She was going to wait for him to show up, and always worry whether or not he would.
Her career had flourished despite—or perhaps because of—the chaos. The constant emotional whiplash had given her performances a depth that directors noticed. Her first major breakthrough came during one of their "off" periods, when she channeled that heartache into a role that earned her critical acclaim. The irony wasn't lost on her—success built on the foundation of personal turmoil.
Their relationship had been a series of passionate reunions and heartbreaking separations, each leaving scars that never quite healed before the next cycle began.
And that's just this life. In that other one…
And yet, despite everything she is feeling right now, she knows it is nothing compared to what Peter is going through. Because Gwen is just the icing on the cake of crap he is dealing with.
Her thoughts are interrupted when the hiss sound of the doors opening draws her attention to her romantic partner, Felicia, walking in with food and drinks. And she is not alone. Alongside her is Sue with a tablet and her brother Johnny. Though why he's here, Mj can venture a guess based on the annoyed look Felicia has on her face.
"Let it go, Storm." Felicia says, her platinum blonde hair partially covering her face as if to hide her growing exasperation.
"Come on, Cat," Johnny persists, following her with the casual confidence that only Johnny Storm could muster in the face of such obvious irritation. "You can't expect me to believe that Parker—my best friend, the guy who wears sweater vests unironically—somehow convinced not just you, but a supermodel/actress and some sword-wielding warrior woman to all date him simultaneously."
"Believe whatever you want," Felicia replies coolly, handing MJ one of the sodas she brought. "I don't owe you an explanation."
MJ accepts the drink with a grateful nod, the cold condensation a welcome distraction against her palm. "Still at it, huh?" she asks, her voice low enough that only Felicia can hear.
"He's been following me since the cafeteria," Felicia mutters, settling into the chair beside MJ's. "I'm considering throwing him out a window."
Sue, being used to her brother's antics, rolls her eyes and decides to direct everyone's attention to an actual important matter. She approaches Gwen's bedside, tablet in hand and she checks the various monitors. "No change in her neural patterns," she reports, fingers sliding across the screen. "Her physiological readings are stable, but she's still in a deep coma state."
"Any idea when she might wake up?" MJ asks, her eyes drifting back to Gwen's peaceful face.
Sue shakes her head. "No, I'm sorry." She says sincerely, "What Miss Stacy is going through, it's the same process that newborns go through but obviously with vastly different circumstances."
"What do you mean?" Felicia asks for MJ.
"Well, you know how newborns sleep constantly?" Sue inquires and they nod in response, "Well, the reason for that is because of all the stimuli the babies' minds are adjusting to. It's basically like that, except in Miss Stacy's case, she is a full-grown adult woman. Her mind is not only coming to terms with being alive again but, if what Reed told me Miss Grey said is true, then she is also having to process remembering being dead."
Remembering being dead. At first, MJ did not understand that entirely until Peter said that Jean meant Gwen remembers the afterlife.
Mary Jane always considered herself spiritual rather than religious. She always believed in God, but she was never devout. Growing up, her family attended church sporadically at best—usually on Easter or when her aunt was visiting. But faith had been an abstract concept to her. At least until she'd met the devil himself.
Mephisto.
It was difficult to deny the existence of heaven when you'd looked into the eyes of hell. The memory of him still haunted her—that smug smile, those burning eyes that seemed to see through every defense. Mephisto had made it impossible to maintain the comfortable ambiguity that had characterized her spiritual life. He had taken something precious from her and Peter, something he cannot remember completely, but she does. She remembers it all since day one. Sometimes she'd wake gasping from dreams of a life they never lived, yet somehow had. And it was all ripped away solely because it causes them pain and misery.
How could one encounter evil so tangible and not believe in its opposite?
She'd spent many nights since then wondering what lay beyond. Not just in moments of existential crisis, but in quiet reflections about Peter, about the risks he took daily, about the fragility of life in their extraordinary world. Faith had become her silent companion during those sleepless nights when Peter was late coming home, when the news showed footage of Spider-Man being thrown through buildings.
She looked at Gwen's peaceful face and wondered what lay behind that serene expression. What had Gwen experienced in death? Was it the pearly gates and golden streets of Sunday school lessons? The peaceful void some philosophers described? Or something entirely beyond human comprehension?
The thought of Gwen remembering paradise—and being ripped away from it—made MJ's heart ache. What would it be like to experience heaven's perfect peace, only to be thrust back into the messy, painful world of the living? To trade eternal bliss for mortality's burdens?
Her musing is shattered when Johnny slides up next to Felicia, and asks. "Is it some kind of shared arrangement? Time-share? Every other weekend?"
"Johnny!" Sue admonishes.
Johnny throws his hands up. "What? I'm trying to understand the impossible here. This is like finding out the Hulk enjoys needlepoint or Doom has a soft spot for kitten videos. The dude I've known for years is juggling a four way relationship when he struggles to juggle two jobs."
All three ladies roll their eyes in exasperation. "He's not juggling anything," Felicia tells him. "We're all adults who made a choice. End of story."
"It's really not that complicated." MJ adds.
"That's what everyone says when they don't want to explain," he counters.
MJ sighs, more tired than annoyed. "Fine," MJ relents, exchanging a glance with Felicia. "It has to do with Sonja being inside me for years, Peter's death changing our perspectives, and him having the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known. Satisfied?"
Johnny blinks, processing this information with visible disappointment. "That's it?" He questions them, "No hypnosis or blackmail or pitying?"
Again, all three of them give the man flat looks, "Sorry to disappoint," Felicia deadpans.
MJ watches as Johnny grumbles and crosses his arms over his chest.
"It just doesn't make sense." He starts up again, "Peter Parker—the guy who once spent three hours explaining to me why the original Star Trek was superior to Next Generation—somehow landed in a relationship with three women who all know about each other and are cool with it."
"I think what my brother is trying to say," Sue interjects diplomatically, "Is that he's jealous."
"I am not jealous," Johnny protests, though MJ can see right through it. "I'm... curious. As a pseudo-scientist."
"Pseudo-scientist?" Sue dryly questions him.
Johnny nods, "Yes, pseudo-scientist. Most of my time is spent on missions for science. I may not pay much attention but it counts that I'm a part of the stuff."
Well, nobody can argue with that.
Mary Jane sighs and says, "Look, if it makes you feel better, I could set you up with one of my model friends."
Johnny rolls his eyes and says, "Let me guess, she's smart and has a wonderful personality."
"She's dumb as a post, double-jointed, and has daddy issues," MJ says.
Johnny stares at her blankly for a second before he says, "Wow. Some friend you are." His tone sounds like he is offended, "You think I'm that shallow. That the girl you just described is my type? I'll have you know I'm looking for a real relationship. And you know what, that's what I'm going to do with this girl, while also proving you wrong about her. So set it up, and we'll have a great time."
Not one of the women buys his act. They all simply stare at him as he leaves the room. The one to break the silence was Sue as she sighs and says, "I apologize for him. Thirty-five going on fifteen."
"We're used to men like that," MJ says with a small laugh. "We date Peter, remember?"
The three women share a moment of levity before falling silent again, the steady beep of Gwen's monitors the only sound in the room. MJ's gaze drifts back to her friend's peaceful face, wondering what will happen.
"Do you think she'll hate me?" MJ asks suddenly.
Both Sue and Felicia look at her in surprise before the thief asks,
"Why would she hate you?"
MJ shrugs, unable to articulate the complex tangle of emotions she's been wrestling with. "For being with Peter. For having the life she should have had."
Sue places a gentle hand on MJ's shoulder. "You can't think like that. None of you chose what happened."
MJ looks down in shame, "It's strange," She says quietly. "All these years I've wondered what I'd say to her if I had the chance."
"And now?" Sue asks gently.
MJ hesitates for a second before saying, "Now I have no idea."
Sue watches the uncertainty writhe across the redhead's face, perhaps seeing echoes of her own past struggles. "I remember wondering the same thing," she says softly, her voice carrying a depth of empathy. "When Johnny died, it devastated us. The shock and grief were paralyzing, but even worse was the knowledge that we had to keep living. For Franklin and Valeria. For each other."
MJ looks at Sue, a hint of surprise in her eyes.
"For a long time, I felt guilty," Sue continues, her gaze distant as she recalls those painful days. "Guilty for smiling, for laughing, for anything that resembled happiness. It felt like I was betraying his memory by moving on."
Mary Jane begins recalls those days when after Gwen had died. How guilty she felt when she was out having fun after losing her best friend. She didn't do that immediately, but when she felt it was time to stop grieving and to start living again. Especially in those quiet moments. The hardest part though? Was when she and Peter started to date again.
"Then one day, out of nowhere..." Sue pauses as a huge smile of relief appears and her eyes mist over. "He came back to us. You can't imagine what that was like—" She stops when she remembers the current situation, "Sorry, I guess you can."
"Its fine." The supermodel says, "Go on."
Sue nods and continues, "The hardest part was realizing there was no timeline for grief. No right or wrong way to process it. We all cope in our own time, in our own way. Trust that Gwen will understand that."
MJ's gaze stays on her revived unconscious friend, "What did you say though?" She asks the older woman.
"That I love him and I was beyond happy he came back." Sue tells her.
That is exactly what MJ feels like. She is happy her best friend is back. Maybe that's what she should focus on. She needs to stop worrying about the worse case scenarios and just think positive.
The doors open again, and for a second, MJ is worried it's Johnny back again with more questions, but she is relieved to see it's Sue's husband, Reed Richards.
The man walks in, his eyes glued to the tablet in his hands, and greets the women, "Ladies."
The three greet him before Felicia stands up and announces, "Well, I'm gonna head home and start getting ready for our date tonight."
"I'll do the same." MJ says and stands up too.
Mary Jane sees a slight surprised look on Sue's face as the woman asks, "You're going out tonight?"
Mary Jane nods, "Mmm-hmm. Peter said that we need to spend time together outside of the usual craziness."
Sue gets a smile as she says, "Oh, that's sweet."
Her gaze turns to her husband and her smile slowly leaves her face and is replaced with a glare as the man is entirely focused on the screen in his hands. Hasn't even heard a word that was said.
Sue smacks him on his arm, "Why can't you be more like Peter!"
"Ow!" Reed recoils, looking surprised and hurt by the hit, as he watches Sue leave in a huff, "What did I do?"
Both Felicia and Mary Jane try not to laugh as they watch poor Reed chase after his wife.
(Avengers Mansion)
After his talk with Wanda, and leaving Jeff with the ladies but failing to leave the Phoenix behind because it was insistant on coming with him, Peter walks into the dining room of his mansion and hears the clinking of glass bottles coming from the wine cellar. He looks inside to see Logan rummaging through the bottles, pulling them out and inspecting them with critical eyes.
"You know, that's technically stealing," Peter quips as he enters, leaning against the doorframe with the shoulder that doesn't have the bird on it. "Though I guess it's not the worst crime you've committed. This week, anyway."
Logan doesn't even bother to look back, continuing his search. "Ain't stealin' if this is what I'm takin as compensation instead of money."
Peter gives him a bewildered look, "You take booze over money?"
Logan shrugs, "It's where it ends up going anyways."
He and the bird stare at the feral mutant before they shake their heads at the man, "…That's just sad."
The man grunts in response and goes back to rummaging through the expensive liquor. Peter watches him for a moment, thinking about how best to apologize to the man. Logan isn't known for being an understanding man, so he expects a lot of hostility from him.
Peter clears his throat and braces himself, "Logan-"
"Stop," Logan orders, cutting him off with a grunt. "Don't need to hear it."
Peter stiffens, expecting the worst. "Look, I know you're still mad—"
"Didn't say that," Logan interrupts again, finally turning to face him. Peter can see the man is annoyed but otherwise not mad as he pulls out two bottles and places them inside the bag. "Just said I don't need the apology."
Peter blinks in surprise, "You don't?"
Lohan shakes his head and goes back inside the cellar, "No. You did what you thought was right. And frankly, it was the right decision for a lot of reasons."
"You understand why I didn't say anything?" Peter questions the man.
Logan pulls out a bottle of whiskey, examining it with a critical eye before adding it to his collection. "Yeah, I understand. After all that mess with the Phoenix Five? The X-Men and Avengers were at each other's throats. We'd just lost Xavier. Half the mutant community was calling Summers a martyr, the other half a murderer." He sets down the bottles and leans against the wine rack. "Telling anyone you were hosting that firebird would've been like striking a match in a room full of gasoline."
Logan takes a pull straight from the bottle he just opened, the amber liquid catching the cellar's dim light. "Look, we put all our chips on Hope, ya know? A kid. Trained her since she could walk to be our messiah." He shakes his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. "What kind of people do that to a child? Make her responsible for saving an entire race?"
Peter leans against the wall, the Phoenix chick chirping softly on his shoulder.
"That's what we do, though," Logan continues, his voice growing rougher. "X-Men, Avengers—we find someone with power and we use 'em. Put the weight of the world on their shoulders and act surprised when they buckle." He takes another swig. "Course, some people seek it out. Like Summers."
"I didn't seek it out," Peter says quietly.
"Exactly." Logan points the bottle at him. " You volunteered cause you couldn't let that burden fall on someone else. And instead of going power-mad like the others, you kept it quiet. Controlled. You didn't start some revolution or try playing god." He sets the bottle down with a heavy thunk. "If people knew you had that bird in you, they'd have come for you. The X-Men, wanting to use it to fix what's left of our problems. The Avengers, wanting to control it. Every government and lunatic with a grudge."
The Phoenix chirps again, as if in agreement.
"You did right," Logan says with finality. "That thing caused enough damage. And I've seen what happens when people fight over power like that. Nothing good comes from it."
Peter feels a weight lift from his shoulders—not completely, but enough to breathe easier. "I thought you'd gut me for keeping Jean a secret."
Logan's expression darkens slightly. "That ain't Jean. Not really." He picks up his bag of stolen liquor. "The real Jean wouldn't have stood by while Scott killed Xavier."
Peter hesitates before speaking. "There's still part of her in there, Logan. I've seen it. It's just... it got hard for her to be human. So she gave it up."
Logan stares at him for a long moment, something vulnerable flickering behind his eyes. "Yeah," he says finally, his voice barely audible. "I can relate to that."
A silence falls between them, heavy with shared understanding. Peter watches as Logan turns back to his pillaging of the wine cellar, his movements more deliberate now, less angry.
"So we're good?" Peter asks cautiously.
Logan grunts, which Peter has learned over the years is as close to verbal forgiveness as the man gets. "We're good. Just don't expect the others to come around as quick. Especially not Rogue."
"Yeah I figured," Peter sighs. "After the whole fake X-Men attack, it felt like we were moving forward. But I guess still keeping secrets like I did pushed it back, huh?"
Logan shrugs, "Secrets are part of the life we choose to live." He says as he slings the bag over his shoulder and heads out, "I'll talk to her, see how she is. You come by tomorrow."
"Thanks," he says as he watches the man leave.
When he does, Peter feels a huge sense of relief over this. He honestly expected Logan to be the maddest one out of everyone. The man is not exactly known for being understanding afterall. But as it turns out, he is understanding. The hero misjudged him.
The man has lived a long life, so Peter should have known Logan would come around after taking a minute to see the situation Peter was in.
The Phoenix on his shoulder chirps and Peter responds to it, "Yeah, in retrospect, I should have figured my non-X-Men friends to be understanding and more forgiving." He slips on his mask as he heads out, "Alright, I'm gonna get ready and you are staying here."
The bird chirps in protest.
"No you can't come on the date or stay at my apartment." He tells it as he goes out the front door, "Last thing I need is my landlord or my aunt walking in and seeing you."
Which reminds him of another task he has yet to complete.
(Empire State Building)
At the very top of the Empire State Building, one can find a makeshift web net that is big enough for three people to sit comfortably and have a lovely picnic while looking out at city skyline.
Peter stares at it with a smile of contentment that feels foreign to him. It's not a feeling he has too often and when he does, it's usually gone as quick as it comes. But he is not going to dwell on that. He is enjoying this moment with MJ, Sonja, and Felicia.
The date wasn't planned out too much, he knew if he did it would not have gone as well as it has, but he did plan it out enough to at least give the ladies
Two of the three ladies are leaning on his shoulders while the third is in her astral form right behind them. All of them are just enjoying this rare moment of serenity and each other's company.
Mary Jane sighs and shifts slightly, "I'll never get tired of this view." She states.
Peter glances at her, "I remember at one point you were not a fan of being up so high."
MJ rolls her eyes, "Yeah well, there are a lot of things I wasn't a fan of that I grew a liking to because of you."
"Like me?" Felicia chimes with a smirk.
"Well I can't entirely blame him for that, Gorgeous," MJ retorts with a smirk of her own, "Afterall, that first night you showed some good reasons to keep you around instead of letting you scurry back to the streets."
"Easy, Beautiful," Felicia flirtatiously responds, "Those are fighting words."
"Ding, round is over ladies," Peter interjects but is certainly enjoying the show, "Don't make me get the hose."
Both girls laugh, as does Sonja from behind them.
Mary Jane brings up another topic, "Aunt May has been calling me." She says, looking at her shared beau, "She's really worried about you."
Peter sighs and rubs his neck, "Yeah, I know. It's been a few days now since I bailed on telling her about my whole double life."
"That wasn't your fault," Sonja comments from behind them, "You said Miss Grey appeared because Romanoff found something and time was of the essence."
"Basically, poor timing," Peter states with a rueful smile, "Typical Parker luck, really."
Felicia nudges him and says reassuringly, "Hey, that Parker Luck got you three gorgeous women and two more interested. What's going on there anyway?"
Peter shrugs, "No idea," he informs her as he thinks about Silver and Nat, "I don't even know if they'll want to join in. It's not like we've had much time to talk about it with everything that's happened. And it's not like I can just walk up to them and say 'Hey, want to join my relationship?' That feels... weird."
Mary Jane twists to face him, the city lights reflecting in her green eyes. "You're overthinking it, Tiger. Just ask them out."
Peter raises an eyebrow. "Ask them out? Just like that?"
"Yes," MJ says simply. "One date. All of us together. If it goes well, then you'll know it's possible. If not, no harm done."
"That's... actually not a bad idea," Peter says, considering it. "Simple. Direct."
"The best solutions usually are," Felicia says, stretching languidly against him. "Though I'd pay to see the look on Romanoff's face when you ask her out."
"Silver might be easier to approach first," Mary Jane suggests. "She already kissed you at that parade, right?"
Felicia snorts. "I remember that. I was so annoyed at the time."
"And now?" Peter asks, curious.
"Now I'd just ask to join in," she replies with a wicked smile that makes him sweat a little.
"You are a very dangerous woman, Hardy," Peter states with a smile.
Felicia laughs, the sound light and playful. "Face it, Spider. You've got a way with dangerous women."
Sonja's spectral form hovers closer. "I find a kindred spirit in both of them. They would make a fine addition to our ranks."
Peter chuckles at her phrasing. "This isn't an army we're building, Sonja."
"Is it not?" The warrior woman's ghostly eyes gleam with amusement. "In my time, some kings' strength was measured by the fierceness of their queens."
"By that metric, you're already the strongest man in New York," Felicia purrs, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
"Only because the girls of you give me strength," he tells them, "Believe me, if it wasn't for you all, I'd crawl under a rock by now."
The girls hold him tighter and go back to enjoying the silence as they stare out into the city.
"So just to clarify, we are gonna fool around up here, right?" Felicia questions them.
Mary Jane rolls her eyes and lifts her head of her man's shoulder to give their thief girlfriend a flat look, "Really?"
Felicia shamelessly shrugs and says, "What? I love a good meal, but a good date can only end one way."
Peter shakes his head at her, "C'mon Felicia, that can't be the only goal here. Especially not in public." He says in a tone that makes Mary Jane give him a weird suspicious look as he continues, "I mean sure, we are high up, and my spider sense can tell me if someone will see us, but this relationship is more than just fooling around with each other."
Mary Jane's flat look is now directed at her boyfriend and his terrible performance. "Wow." She says as she feels Sonja's amusement and sees from the corner of her eye the warriors smile over this, "You two are something else. Really? When did you plan this?"
The two stare at her before Felicia leans closer to Peter, "I think she's mad." She whispers, even though Mary Jane is right there next to them.
Peter plays along and whispers too, "Do you think this means we won't get to fool around?"
The supermodel rolls her eyes, "Take off your clothes before I change my mind."
The two 'conspirators' smile and high five before they do exactly as they are told.
(Peter's Apartment)
Peter climbs through the window of his apartment and immediately sees his younger self passed out on the couch, the tv on and a bag of Cheetos on his chest.
Ah, to be young and carefree. Course at this age carefree was a foreign concept to him, but it wasn't as bad as it is now.
He makes his way to his bedroom, careful to avoid the creaky floorboard near the hallway. Once inside, he closes the door with a soft click and collapses onto his bed with a heavy sigh. The events of the past few days crash over him like waves: cosmic forces, resurrection, confession, reconciliation—all of it swirling in his mind. And the day isn't over yet. There is still something he needs to do that he's been pushing off.
Peter reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, staring at the notification of Aunt May's voicemail that he still hasn't listened to. It's been days since he nearly told her everything, since he'd apologized for not being the man she, Uncle Ben, and his parents had wanted him to be. Then Jean had appeared, telling him to get back to the mansion, and he'd left before May could respond.
What did she say? Is she disappointed? Confused? Worried?
All of the above, probably.
Peter closes his eyes, the phone still clutched in his hand. He should listen to it. He knows he should. But what if her response makes him reconsider telling her about Spider-Man? What if her words convince him to keep his secret buried, where it's been for all these years?
He knows it's probably not as bad as he's making it out to be in his mind, but he can't shake the fear that whatever he hears will push him away from telling her what he knows he needs to say.
He opens his eyes again, and stares at the voicemail. He makes the decision and listens to it.
"Peter?" His aunt's gentle worried voice makes him close his eyes again. He pictures her with that concerned look she always seems to get with him. "Please call me back. I don't know what's going on, but…"
That pause feels like an eternity to him. The worry of what she'll say next makes him anxious as he taps his foot on the ground.
"Peter," she starts again, "Life has never been fair. And it seemed like it was always particularly unfair to you. It always seemed like whenever something can go wrong for you, it did."
He lets out an involuntary laugh at her accurate assessment.
"But despite all the tragedy and trauma that you've endured, you turned into this wonderful man that I know Ben and your parents would be proud of."
"You may not have always told me what was going on in your life, but I know you always had your reasons for the decisions you made that seemed to make you look lazy or selfish. I know the kind of man that you are Peter. The kind of man that made sacrifices for people around him and never wanted those close to him to worry about it all. Just like Ben."
He feels his eyes tear up and a smile on his face.
"He always put our wellbeing and that of others above his. And he always tried to hide it from me. Because he knew that I would worry and fuss over it."
"Peter, I just want you to know, whatever is going on, please don't hide it from me because you believe I can't handle it."
The message ends there. He pulls his phone back and stares at it again. She understands, but will she really be able to handle it. That is the real question.
One he wishes he can get an answer to without the risk.