Mary Jane goes to Hell
Summary: I admit it. It's a stinking fix-fic. I just couldn't take One More Day any more. I had it in my head, and it had to come out.
Of course, being me, that means it comes out… like this.
So, if you aren't familiar with One More Day: Spider-man made a deal with Mephisto, the devil, which undid his marriage with MJ in order to save Aunt May's life. That's all you need to know for this…
1.
After a little while running they thought to change out of the wild costumes, back into their street clothes. They had to pick up some new clothes for May at a thrift shop, since her old ones had been left behind and she only had her underthings on beneath the costume.
MJ grabbed a duffel bag at the same place, so they could carry the costumes along as well.
MJ was more certain than ever that they couldn't trust anybody. Every time she relied on people it put them deeper into the devil's plans. Every time she tried to make things better, she made it worse.
When they found a tiny hotel room and sat down to eat May was subdued, keeping her eyes down. Not looking at MJ.
"What did he say?" asked MJ.
"Huh?" May pretended not to understand.
"Peter said something to you." MJ tried to harden her heart, tried to keep this all straight in her head. "He's made you question your role in this… made you think about the devil, about the deal, about what we're doing."
"Not really," said May. "I mean, he said stuff to try and do that. But mostly… Mostly he was nice. And that creeped me out."
"He's not usually a bad man," said MJ. She wanted to hug May, hold her close, but May looked on edge. And when she got on edge it probably wasn't a good idea to push her. She had grown up in Hell, after all. In torment and service to the devil.
She could be a little touchy about personal space.
May took a deep breath, her hands curling into fists. "What now?"
MJ thought about it seriously. "My bet with the devil… the deal was for a chance to save Peter. And you. But I don't think we can get him back. The devil played his hand too well. And I'm not sure what'll happen if we give up… if we get dragged back to hell."
"Like to see him try it!" snarled May.
MJ nodded. "Maybe… maybe we just run away. Run away fast. He'll stay here, in New York. We can go anywhere else. Start a new life, just you and me."
May looked down, considering this. Seriously thinking about it. And for a second, MJ thought she had won. Thought they could be safe.
"The thing is… one of the things he said to me… we have great power, you know. I mean, sure, we're not as strong as, say, the god of war, or the sentry, or any of these others. But I'm fast enough to avoid getting hit by them, smart enough to find their weak points, and strong enough to exploit them. Basically, what I'm saying is this… I have great power. I can take down villains or heroes. I can do anything. And he said… with great power comes great responsibility. And I'd never… I never thought of it that way. Tell me, did he…? Did he always act… like a hero?"
MJ plumbed memories real and fake, trying to think back into a timeline she hadn't lived. "I think from the time he was around your age he was a hero," she said softly. "He was just a kid in high school. A target for bullies. His life was crap, his aunt depended on him… but he… he… He put on that silly costume every day, and went out and protected those who didn't have the power to protect themselves. Even when it hurt. Even when he didn't want to."
May nodded. "I thought so. He said I was just a kid, that I didn't have to do any of this… and you just said we could go somewhere else, do anything else. But that's not the right thing to do, is it? Because if we let him go bad, we know the whole world will go down. His refusal to kill makes him a not-terribly-effective good guy… but as a bad guy, he would just kill everybody. You know it. I know it. It's… the devil is laughing."
MJ could almost hear that laughter. She nodded.
May smiled. "There's only one way this is going to work, one way we can do this. There's only one right thing to do. I don't know if I can do it, if I can talk him down without having to hurt him, but I know it's the only way. If I beat him down, he'll come back up more evil. If I let him beat me, he'll be more evil. If I run away, he'll turn evil. I mean, I don't know much about right and wrong… I'm not even sure what kind of person I am. I've been in hell all my life. But… I have that power. I know I have that power! And I… I want to use it right."
The worst part was that MJ should have known it was coming. May, it seemed, had all that was best about Peter. The stark heroism. The willingness to sacrifice herself.
And the power.
MJ's hands were shaking, and she wasn't sure if it was the goblin serum she'd taken to try to face Peter or the emotions running through her wildly.
She was so used to thinking of May as fragile, so used to protecting her, that she'd forgotten that May's first instinct was to protect her mother, that May was so much like Peter that eventually she would think to protect the whole world.
It was more terrifying than flying had been. She'd only truly been a mother for a few weeks. She'd only discovered her daughter recently. And she could only half-remember that feeling in her gut whenever she'd seen Peter swing out to protect the world. The feeling that he might not be back, that the city was more important to him than her. That feeling that she had to share him. That feeling that she might lose him.
It was so much harder when it was her child. When her baby, only fourteen (or so) was telling her how she would lay her life on the line to save the world.
MJ nodded slowly. "We'll need a new plan."
2.
What was MJ doing?
Making plans to save the world. Going up on rooftops in a goblin costume, waiting for Peter. Dosing on goblin serum so that when he showed up she would be able to stand up to him.
Sheer insanity!
She stood there, looking around. Waiting and watching. A military helicopter was circling high overhead, but didn't take a shot at her. Didn't fly down to confront her. She assumed they were scared, and was glad of this. She didn't want to endanger ordinary people in this confrontation.
She felt that crawling feeling in the back of her head as he arrived, some sixth sense letting her know he was there.
When he arrived she spread her arms wide, trying to look as peaceful as possible. "Let's talk, Peter," she said quietly.
"Where'd you take my daughter?" he asked, cold and angry.
She sighed. "I don't trust you enough to leave her alone with you, and you don't trust me enough to leave her alone with me. I get that. That's fine. But she's a person. She's got her own idea about where she should be… so you and I are just going to have to respect her choices. Okay?"
He shook his head, looking away. That blank, empty, angry mask he wore made this so much more difficult.
She tried again. "Peter, I wanted to leave this city. Run away as far and as hard as I could. I was going to. Take her so you'd never see her again." His whole body was tense. She could see him hunching over. Practically trembling with tension. "But she cares what happens to you. She wants to protect you… save you. Now, you can reject that, run away… do whatever. I can't make myself care at this point. But if you want… we can talk about this like adults. We can sit down and talk about what's going with you, with me, with her. We can work out what to do."
He shifted from one foot to the other. "This another ambush?"
"No. No, and the other one wasn't either. Don't give me that. I know you don't trust me. I've done… questionable things. But don't act like you're innocent in this. I know… I know! You nearly killed Osborn. Didn't you? Crossed that line… danced over it… danced on his grave."
He shook his head again, but now there was no conviction to it. It was a slow shake, with some hesitation. She pressed the point. "Peter, you and I aren't close now. But I know you care what happens to May… otherwise you wouldn't have tried to take her from me. I won't let you just take her… but I'm prepared to let you into her life. If you fight me on this, you'll just drive her away. If you try to take her away, you'll alienate her completely."
It was true. She wasn't sure if he would believe it.
He turned back to face her. "What do you propose? Shared custody? Playdates and weekends?" There was scorn in his voice. She had to remind herself that his anger was mostly well-founded. Somebody was manipulating him… a master manipulator.
She smiled. "Yeah, something along those lines. Let's just start by all three of us going for a walk. Through the park. Civilian clothes. Like a family. Can you do that, Peter?"
He growled something under his breath. "When?"
"When can you do it?" she countered.
He nodded. "Tonight… about six. I have work."
He jumped up, into the air, firing webs and swinging away as quick as he could. Disappearing into the skyline.
She headed back the way she'd come, waving jauntily to the camera.
Now, phase two.
3.
She stopped by to see Harry after she was sure Peter was long gone. The coffee shop was closed for the night, the lights out. She knocked on the door, knowing he was out back. "It's me, Harry," she called.
He came to the door. He looked haunted… unwell.
"Hey, MJ," he said. He looked like a ghost.
"Have you been drinking?" she asked him flatly.
He shook his head. "I've been… thinking. About my place in the world… my father's empire. All that stuff. Come in?"
She followed him in. "Harry, I need to ask you some… uncomfortable questions. Will you answer them?"
He nodded balefully. "I didn't go to Peter like you asked. I'm sorry. I just can't! Not with the way things are between him and my dad… I just can't!"
"I'm not here about that, Harry," she said patiently. "I'm here about you. Can we sit down?"
He picked one of the empty tables and sat down. In the darkness his eyes fell into shadow, so she couldn't see his expression. She sat down opposite him.
"So, you were dead," she said flatly.
"What? I was not," he replied.
"Let me finish. You were dead, but there was some kind of time travel thing… something changed. In the past. And as a result, you're alive again. Brought back from the dead. The thing is… the thing is, Harry, the guy who brought you back, the one who changed the past? One of the bad guys."
He snorted. "You think I'm a villain, back from the grave?" he asked harshly.
"No… I'm the one who's back from the grave running around with superpowers and starting my own team to fight the Avengers," she said flatly. "I don't think you're the bad guy, Harry. But I think that the bad guy is trying to use us—both of us—to bring Peter down. I'm coming straight to you on this because I'm not going to dance around this for another minute. I'm not going to ask you for weapons and then not tell you what's going on. Because if I do that, I'm playing into our enemy's hands. Do you know how important Peter is?"
"Spider-man's just a chump," said Harry dismissively. "Sure, he takes down criminals and super-criminals in New York, but this is the real world. There are higher stakes."
She smiled gently at him. "There are no higher stakes. Peter's just a second-string hero, sure. But the end-game isn't Peter as a hero. It's Peter as a villain. Think about that for a minute."
Harry's features took on a set that would have looked more comfortable on his father.
"You were a villain, weren't you?" she asked softly. "For a little while. Blowing things up… trying to kill Peter. But not now. What if Peter killed your father? What then?"
"I don't know." His voice was hoarse. "If he crossed that line… I almost couldn't take it last time. I was descending into madness. This time? I might just go all the way."
"What would that do to Peter?" she prompted.
He turned away from her, and she could see his anger, hot and throbbing. She wasn't a psychiatrist or a counselor; she had no idea how to deal with his rage, his anger. She had no idea how to channel it away, to make him understand. She was scared of him.
She tried to keep her voice calm, pressing for the end-game. "They're trying to make Peter a killer… sending your father after him isn't enough. If he snapped and killed your father that's only halfway. That's only up to… that's only up to the level of somebody like the Punisher. That won't make him flat-out evil. Won't make him kill heroes. But if he killed you… his best friend… if you went after him…"
"I will!" snarled Harry. "If he touches my dad…"
"The one you hate?" she asked sadly.
Harry leaned forward, so she could see his eyes. "A man's father is still his father, even if you hate him!" he snapped.
"So help me," she said. "Help me make sure Peter doesn't kill your father… don't wait for him to do it, act all surprised, and then get mad. Be proactive, Harry. Help me."
4.
Walking in the park with May was fun. No, better than fun. It was a warm, family moment. For a minute they were just a mother and her teenaged daughter, walking in the park and looking at the animals.
They sat down on a bench overlooking the river, and just watched it flow by for a while. There wasn't much water in hell. It was a welcome change for both of them.
"I used to wonder what having parents would be like," said May. "Wonder what being normal would be like. I thought it would be like… be like being a princess. Like having a castle and a dragon. You'd have a safe place, you'd have fun, everybody would love you… I couldn't imagine it, but I thought that was what it would be like."
MJ wished she didn't have to be such a disappointment to May. "I wish I could give you all that."
May grinned at her. "Are you kidding? This is that. You and he are both so protective you're scared to death the other one will take me, and even the scariest things here are just funny compared to hell. If I could get a set of webs like he has, I think I would have everything."
MJ smiled back at her daughter. "There's more to life than webbing."
May shrugged. "Not my life."
It was a trouble statement. MJ tried to keep from frowning, but couldn't quite. "May… you're just a little girl," she said quietly. "There's still school… and boys… and dreams. You can do anything… be anything you want to be. Not just…"
May grinned, putting a hand on MJ's shoulder. "I want to be a spider. Don't worry about it."
But MJ couldn't help but worry. There was a whole life out there waiting for May… maybe not a normal one. Not after everything that came before.
Peter arrived then. He looked unhappy still, angry. MJ waved, getting his attention. They made room for him on the bench beside May, on the far side from MJ. MJ was pretty sure this was deliberate on May's part; trying to keep them far enough apart to avoid a fight.
"Hi, Peter," said MJ.
"Do I call you dad or Peter?" asked May innocently.
"Dad is fine," he said gruffly.
MJ wondered how this must feel to him. To go from single and carefree to a father in one fell swoop. To be tied down suddenly with responsibilities you never knew you had. Boxed in.
She supposed she knew better than most. "So, you're a teacher now, Peter?" she asked cautiously.
"That's right," he said tightly.
"I'm wondering about sending May to school. She hasn't really had any schooling at all—I don't think she really wants to either."
May scoffed. "School? That's the place they send the normal kids to learn to read and write, isn't it?"
Peter gave her a sharp glance, picking up immediately on the 'normal' bit. "That's where we send kids your age, yes," he said.
"She's probably behind her age group… I can try tutoring her, getting her up to speed."
"And when you're at work?" asked Peter.
She thought about how they'd been surviving on the ill-gotten gains the demon masquerading as Sabretooth had brought them. "We haven't had to cross that bridge yet," she said quietly.
His eyes narrowed, and he looked away. He looked far too young to have a fourteen year old daughter—barely thirty-five, at best. She'd seen him in that silly jumpsuit, and knew he didn't have an ounce of fat on him, but his face was still stubbornly round.
He looked like a teenager. Like a boy trying to be a man.
MJ leaned back in the bench, trying to relax. Trying not to think about all the goblin serum in her blood, the unnatural strength flowing through her. Why had Norman Osborn been so obsessed with power, so interested in having this? Why was he still gathering power to himself?
Peter leaned forward. "So, we're just one big happy family," he said sarcastically.
MJ shrugged. She had hoped he wouldn't be angry, now that he was sitting beside May. Had hoped he would calm down. And she wasn't sure what to say to calm him down.
May slouched between the two of them, unsure. Confused. Stuck in the middle.
MJ sighed. "Anyway, May was just telling me how envious she is of your web shooting thingies. She—"
"No," he said flatly.
May groaned. "Really? Come on."
"I don't want you running around like that—putting on the costume and going out. That's dangerous," he said.
The flat-out hypocrisy of it astonished MJ for a second. It was too dangerous to do exactly what he did?
But then the obviousness of it struck her. He did what he did so that nobody else would have to. He did what he did so that others would be safe. Of course he would want to protect his loved ones from it as well. Of course he would say that.
She sighed. "Peter, you and I… we aren't the kind of people who beat around the bush, right? We have something to say, we say it."
He groaned, looking away. "Please, spare me," he said flatly.
"You're defensive, you're angry, and this is just uncomfortable."
"And that's my fault?" he snapped.
"I'm not going to argue fault," she said, thinking back on all her blunders and missteps escaping from hell. About the people she'd allowed the demon wearing Sabretooth's face to kill. About donning the goblin suit and flying around the city on a glider. "I'm not going to tell you that you did it wrong, or that you are in the wrong, or anything like that. I'm not in that business. I will tell you that if you can't be at least a little bit pleasant here, sitting on a park bench, in broad daylight, then don't expect us to be all too eager to set up our next meeting. I know you're angry, but I'd really like to try to give May something like a normal life—something she's been pretty well deprived of so far."
"And that's my fault too, I suppose?" he asked nastily.
She wilted a little bit, but stuck her chin out at him defiantly, balling her hands into fists. "You're at least as responsible as I am, Peter. I know I've done wrong—I know I've been wrong. But I didn't get to this point alone. Now, do you think you can be pleasant enough for the three of us to go find someplace to eat, or are you going to be like this?"
For a second his face was more a mask than the red scrap of cloth he usually wore over it. For a second those little-boy-lost good looks showed nothing at all, and she was scared. Because the cold and calculating side of him was the worst part, was the demon within that might someday turn this world to ashes.
Harry was right. As a good guy, he was too noble. He never killed his enemies, never crossed that line.
"We can go to dinner," he said.
5.
MJ counted through the money they had left carefully. She needed to get a job, start replenishing the money. She needed to figure out whether it was safe to send May to a school. Maybe to the school where Peter taught? He could watch over her then. Keep her safe.
May was watching the news on TV. She had a very serious mind… she didn't smile or laugh much at all. MJ wanted so badly to change that.
How would other kids treat her? MJ shuddered at the thought.
May twisted around. "He's wearing a different costume tonight."
MJ's heart skipped a beat. It was a blurry, distant image of Peter, bounding across rooftops. In the dim light it was hard to make out.
But he was wearing black again.
