AN ~ Peter has his own place in this fic.
In Dreams
-dutchtulips-
Ring. . .Ring. . .Ring. . .
The phone wouldn't stop ringing. The shrill, electronic bell sounded again and again, and never ceased. All through the dark apartment, the phone yelped to be picked up. Why didn't someone pick it up?
The tinkling of broken glass against the hardwood floor suddenly joined the sound of the telephone, though where it came from was unknown. Thunks and thuds wormed their way in, mixing all of the sounds into a noisy rush that didn't seem to want to stop. But above the shattering glass, and even above the mysterious thumps, the telephone's rings shrilled louder, remaining to go unanswered.
Ring. . .Ring. . .Ring. . .Ring. . .Ring. . .
Mary Jane Watson awoke with a start. She blinked a few times, and pushed herself up into a sitting position. Wearily, she rubbed her brow and moaned sleepily. But what does it mean?
It was true, this wasn't the first of the strange, reoccuring dreams Mary Jane had been having. As she tossed the bedclothes aside and padded in the direction of the bathroom, she found that her mind was racing, turning over the newest dream in her mind and trying to connect it with the other weird ones she'd had.
It was hard to pinpoint exactly when she'd begun having them. Mary Jane had taken to wrapping herself up in her work, which consisted of the Moondance - which she'd only still kept to secure some money for herself - and night school in which she'd previously enrolled in.
As Mary Jane pulled the Colgate out of the medicine chest and begun brushing her teeth, she found her mind drifting back to the first of the very strange dreams. Mary Jane could recall like it had happened only yesterday, and it hadn't made sense either. In fact, it was downright pecuilar.
There had been a person in it, but she hadn't seen who it was. all that Mary Jane had seen of the person was their arm extending forward, picking up something off a bureau. Then, quite suddenly, everything had grown fuzzy. Mary Jane had still seen the room's furnishings, but they were extremely out of focus. The, abruptly, they weren't. Everything was clear again.
She had awaken after that.
Mary Jane put away the toothpaste and toothbrush, and went back to her bedroom to dress. As she reached into her closet to take out a green sweater of hers that she really liked, Mary Jane recalled another of her unusual dreams.
At first there had seemed to be a lot of blinding light. But as the dream had progressed, it became clear that it was flashing light. In every direction, hundreds of bright flashes were just going off. But in the midst of it all, Mary Jane, through her dream, could see what was causing all of the flashing light. It had been a camera.
Upon seeing it, she had waken up.
Mary Jane sighed. She buttoned up the sweater and pulled on some jeans, thinking to herself. This is ridiculous. What are all these dreams supposed to mean? Can't someone just tell me why I'm having them?
Are they connected in anyway?
Mary Jane honestly didn't have the answers. But she was awfully tired of thinking about it. If - whoever it was - was trying to tell her something, she wished they'd just hurry up and do it.
~*~
Ring. . .Ring. . .Ring. . .Ring. . .
The phone was ringing again the dark room. Glass shattered and tinkled over wood. All sorts of crashes started in, after that. They grew louder and louder. But now there was another element. As Mary Jane's ears strained to listen, she could make it out. It was. . .a scream.
The high-pitched scream mingled in with the continous crashes and the glass, it all became like a train crash, loud enough to drown out any sound the world. Except. . .
Ring. . .Ring. . .Ring. . .
The phone. It was still ringing. Even over the mess of noise, the phone was still ringing, louder than ever!
Someone jarred Mary Jane's elbow. "Hey, MJ, are you awake?"
She blinked and sat up, seeing one of her classmates standing over her desk. "You OK?"
"Oh, oh yeah," Mary Jane mumbled sleepily. She gathered up her bookbag. "Thanks for waking me up, Nicole."
"Been working late?" She inquired.
"Just, uh, drifted off." Mary Jane stood up. "See you tomorrow."
"Bye," Nicole said as MJ went out the classroom door.
~*~
Her mind was racing as she strode down the New York streets, heading for the subway home. Mary Jane's mind was racing; this was something she hadn't experienced before. Each of her strange dreams had occurred only once. Except this time. She'd had this dream twice - and in the same day!
She turned the corner, hashing over the dream. The first time she'd dreamt it, there was the sound of the broken glass, the mysterious thuds, and, of course, the ringing phone. But the second time, there was something more. Someone had been screaming.
Mary Jane knew that after the dangerous spot she'd been in nearly a month ago, in which she'd been kidnapped and Spider-man had saved her life for the third time, might be the reason why her dream was so creepy. But it didn't explain the other peculiar dreams. They hadn't even been remotely scary. The fuzzy vision going clear and fuzzy again, the flashing camera - and also one that Mary Jane could recall - a hand, though she had not seen the owner of the hand, holding hers, but the person's hand actually stuck to her own.
She sighed. Would they ever end? Probably not. Unless I can figure out what they're trying to tell me.
~*~
Mary Jane needed someone to talk to. Someone to confide in, someone who could help her figure it all out. And for that, she needed the person she'd always needed. She needed him.
It was lunchtime on Thursday, her day off, and as Mary Jane got out of the elevator and started for the translucent glass doors, she nervously brushed off her denim skirt. She stopped at the doors, making a final contemplation of whether or not this was the right decision. Running her hand through her shiny red hair, Mary Jane decided that it was.
With a sharp intake of breath, she pushed open the door that had The Daily Bugle lettered on it, and stepped inside the newsroom. It was busy, as she'd expected it to be, but manged to blend in with the other, busy people. Mary Jane spotted a secretary and decided to chance it.
"Um, hello," she said pleasantly to the woman. "I'm, er, looking for Peter Parker."
She opened her mouth to respond to Mary Jane's inquiry, but before she had the chance, a new voice interrupted.
"Mary Jane?"
She whirled around, her breath catching in her throat upon sight of him. "Peter," she breathed. She stood there for a moment, staring at him, before she spoke again. "I was wondering. . .how you'd feel about my taking you out to lunch. Are you free?"
"Sure," he replied, allowing himself a smile. "Where do you want to go?"
"Anywhere's fine."
They left the newsroom together, walking down the hall and into the elevator, but in silence the whole way. Mary Jane had decided to wait until they were sitting down for this.
~*~
"It's good to see you again, MJ," Peter said, breaking the silence, as they sat across from each other in Starbucks. In the end, they had both agreed that neither was very hungry, so they stopped in the cafe for some coffee.
"You too." She smiled and reached over to pat his hand. "It's been nearly a month since. . ." There was an awkward pause, and Mary Jane shifted uncomfortingly in her chair. Peter, eyes averted, didin't respond.
"So," she tried again, "Anything new?"
"Nothing much." Peter looked back up at her.
"How's Aunt May?" She smiled.
He smiled back. "She's doing a lot better, of course."
"That's good." Mary Jane said it almost to herself. A few more moments of silence passed.
"Anything new with you?" Peter suddenly inquired.
"Oh, well," she touched the rim of her cup, "I'm in night school, now."
"Really?" He was interested. "Are you studying the fine arts?"
"Yeah." She nodded slowly, her mind elsewhere. Peter asking her about new things in her life sounded like a good time to bring up what she wanted to talk to him about, but she didn't want to sound presumptuous.
"Anything else?"
Good, she sighed inside of her head. "Well, er, you'll think I'm crazy for bringing it up. . ."
"No, I won't. Go on," Peter prompted her.
"I've been having. . .very. . .interesting. . .dreams." Mary Jane sort of laughed, trying for a lightness.
"Really?" He seemed amused. "Must be for you to mention them."
"Yeah, they are. They're always different, but somehow I think they're connected. And I don't understand them at all. I guess that's why maybe I brought it up. Maybe you might know what they're all about."
Peter smiled. "I could try." He paused. "What are they about?"
"Well, like I said, each one's different," Mary Jane began. "But they're all as enigmatic as hell."
"Well, how about you start with the very first dream," he suggested.
"Okay. . ." She rested her chin in her palm, thought for a moment, and looked back up at him. "There was a person in the first one, I think, but I didn't seem him. all I saw was an arm reaching forward, and picking up something. The vision's clear, but out of nowhere, right after the hand picks up - whatever it was - everything is suddenly out of focus. Like, when you're trying to look through someone's glasses."
"Maybe that's what it was." Peter seemed undeterred as he took a drink out of his cup.
"That's when I woke up." Mary Jane sighed. "Then there was one where it felt like I was soaring off of a building or something. Like I was flying." She paused, thinking. "And then there was -"
"Hold on." Peter reached into his jacket and pulled out a pocket notebook. "I'll write it down. Sometimes things are easier if they're on paper."
She watched him jotting down a few sentences and looked back up at her.
Mary Jane laughed. "You're making me feel like I'm at a psychiatrist's office!"
"Okay." He stopped and stared at her. "Go ahead."
She shook her head ruefully, still smiling, but continued. "One dream I had had lots of flashing light in it. Everywhere you would look there would just be this. . .blinding flash. But right before I woke up, I could see that it was coming from a camera. Like yours, Pete."
"Taking a lot of pictures? Of what?" Peter inquired.
"That's just it. I don't think it was, really. It was just. . .flashing." Mary Jane pursed her lips in puzzlement. "But there are more confusing ones. I'm holding a person's hand. I couldn't see the person in that dream, either."
"What was weird about that one?" He wanted to know.
"Our hands, they, well, they stuck together. Like, fused together or something. I tried to move my hand, in the dream, and the other person's fingers fell away from my hand, but it was still stuck there." Mary Jane glanced at Peter to see his reaction.
His eyebrows were raised. "Really?" But his tone was different.
She waved her hand dismissedly. "Here's the final piece. I've had this dream twice. A few night ago I had it, and that same day, that evening, I fell asleep and had it. But it's been a little different each time."
"How do you mean?" Peter asked.
"Well, it's always the same dark room, and there's always a phone ringing. The first time I had it, there was the phone ringing, and glass shattering. Then there was a loud of strange noises. Thumps and thuds and things. The second time, there was that, and a scream. But the phone kept ringing," Mary Jane replied.
"A phone ringing?" He looked interested.
"It's always ringing. The shattering glass, the strange thumps, and the scream are loud enough to be heard in China. But the phone. . .it's always the loudest." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Why doesn't someone pick it up?" Mary Jane looked back up at Peter to see his reaction, but this time she saw something different.
Peter's eyes seemed to be far away, as was his mind obviously; she'd said his name repeatedly, but he hadn't answered. "Peter? Peter, are you all right? Peter, say something."
But he didn't hear her. His brain had traveled back in time, to a specific day and time when he'd listened to a ringing phone, but one that hadn't been a dream. . .
"MJ, it's Peter, you there? Pick up. Well, listen, I just called to check up on you, call me when you get in, okay? And listen. . .don't. . .go down any dark alleys. . ."
"Can Spider-man come out to play?"
"Where is she?"
Suddenly, as if a switch had been turned off, Peter blinked back to reality, to present day and Mary Jane sitting in front of him, saying something softly to herself. "What?"
"Back from Dreamworld?" She smiled slightly. "You didn't hear me? I was thinking about the phone ringing. If someone doesn't pick it up, there's no one home, obviously. I wish an answering machine would at least pop into my dream and stifle the phone's rings, at least. . ."
"Oh, er, Mary Jane, I've gotta go." Peter suddenly jumped up.
"What?" She looked surprised. "Please don't leave, we were having a nice time, weren't we?"
"Oh, it's nothing like that. . .it's just. . .I'll call you, is that okay?" And he was gone.
~*~
Peter was beside himself. As he rode the subway home from work that day, he could hardly sit still. The anxiety was really getting to him. But after his lunch with Mary Jane that day, Peter couldn't see how he couldn't be feeling this way.
Mary Jane's dreams surely didn't make any sense to her, whatsoever, but to Peter, he understood every last one of them, and he knew what the connection was that Mary Jane said she the dreams probably had.
The very first dream she had with the fuzzy vision. . .that was me. That was when I tried to put on my glasses that first day and realized I could see without them. And the camera, that had to have been me, too, since that's what I do. And my hands, they stick to things, of course. MJ and I held hands once, and in her dream, they stuck together. And she knows, like everyone else does, that Spider-man can cling to every surface. . .
And the phone ringing. Of course. That was when she was taken from her apartment and I tried to call her! But the answering machine didn't pick up in her dream. It must be trying to clue Mary Jane into that. . .trying to tell her that the answer to everything lies on an answering machine tape. Hers! And that could only mean. . .
The realization hit Peter like a ton of bricks. Something, somewhere, is trying to tell Mary Jane that Peter Parker is Spider-man. That I'm Spider-man!
~*~
Mary Jane received one last dream that night. But as it would turn out, she wasn't the only one who was seeing this particular reverie. In another apartment somewhere under the city's night sky, Peter Parker was seeing the very same vision. . .
Mary Jane was leaning into Peter, kissing him, as she had done in the graveyard, except they weren't in the graveyard at all. Mary Jane wasn't quite sure where they were; neither was Peter. As the dream progressed, the owner of the clinging hand that had been holding her hand appeared, and it was, as Peter knew it would be, himself. Suddenly they appeared in their embrace again, kissing, and something strange happened. Peter, who was wearing black in the dream, suddenly morphed into the scarlet-clad Spider-man kissing Mary Jane, and then back to Peter again. . .
And though they could not have known it, Mary Jane and Peter both awoke from their sleep, from the dream, at the exact same moment in time.
Mary Jane's breath was rapid, as if she'd just awaken from a nightmare, but. . .she hadn't. As she wiped the persperation from her brow and switched on her table lamp, the vision in her dream, of Peter Parker morphing into Spider-man and back again, filled her mind.
"Is that what all of this means?" She whispered softly to herself. "All of these strange dreams are to clue me into the fact that Peter's Spider-man? Is that why he took off so fast the other day, because Peter realized it before I did?"
Finally it makes sense, Mary Jane thought as she tossed the covers aside, completely awake now. Too much sense to ignore.
~*~
Peter's eyes suddenly snapped open. Though he had not awaken with such a force that Mary Jane had - perhaps because he already knew what she now did - his thoughts were racing in an identical speed to hers. And he could feel it now, through his spider-sense, that she had had this dream as well.
The phone rang.
How ironic, Peter thought as he reached out for the received, not the least bit surprised that someone was calling at such an untimely hour. "MJ?"
There was a small silence. "How did you know it was me?"
To his own surprise, Peter laughed. "If you know what you know, you didn't really need to ask that. We had the exact same dream, MJ. Except that yours was a revelation. Mine was. . .was. . ." That was when he realized, why did he also receive the same dream?
"Was what, Peter?" She asked softly.
"To. . .let me know that you know." The answer had suddenly came to him.
There was a pregnant silence, and then it was finally broken by Mary Jane. "I'm coming over. Right now." To her surprise, he didn't argue.
"I knew you'd be saying that."
~*~
Peter wearily looked at the clock. The hands pointed at 2.50 AM. As he sat in his dim living room, waiting for Mary Jane to arrive, he kept thinking to himself. What's going to happen when she gets here? What is she going to say to me? I mean, she knows I'm Spider-man now. . .
There was a small tap on the front door, and Peter rose to open it. He did, and there she was. Mary Jane. She was even still wearing her bathrobe. Suddenly, without warning, she stepped closer and captured him in a warm embrace, whispering very softly, "Oh, Peter. . ."
They remained that way for a very long moment, and then Mary Jane loosened her grip to look up into Peter's crystalline blue eyes. "This is why?"
He seemed to understand what she was referring to. "Yeah. It's a heavy burden. Everyday, it is. I wish that I could make it all work out, but. . ."
"Peter, just say it."
He shot a glance at her. "MJ, I. . ."
"Peter. It doesn't matter what you do. It doesn't matter what you say. Because they cannot hinder," she paused, touching his chest where his heart would be underneath, "what you feel. . ." And in an even lower voice, ". . .Spider-man."
"I. . .I. . .love. . .you." He finally managed to whisper. "Really, I do. And that's why. That's why I have to protect you. . . . . .from myself."
Mary Jane looked long and hard at him, and then she wrapped him in her embrace again. "Just be where I can hear you breathe, Peter Parker."
Upon hearing these words, feeling the same in his heart, Peter returned her embrace gratefully, and let her snuggle her face against his chest, feeling her breathe, as well.
el fin