"Something must've gone wrong in my brain, Got your chemicals all in my veins, Feeling all the highs, feeling all the pain," Never Be the Same – Camilla Cabello
...
What Peter said to MJ had been replaying in her mind since that day. It never left, not even during a test, a shift at the diner, or right now, as she was commuting to school. She recalled the unmistakable flirting (ew, why flirt with someone who's clearly mentally unstable) but also saw genuine concern in his eyes–much more than any regular customer would have, no matter how attractive they found her.
This helped further confirm MJ's theory. But, as a true scientist would, she was looking to narrow it down and improve upon it. How could I make it more specific? How can I test it?
Yet, a true scientist would be okay with their theory being wrong. Sure, maybe a little upset, but open to the possibility. MJ was too far gone, too desperate for an answer, to be okay with starting the whole thing over.
Lacking full awareness and control over her emotions was going to, quite literally, kill her. She didn't know how much uncertainty and surprise she could take before she broke. Sure, Peter's words helped. There is a point. But MJ's brain was now fixated on how to get to a place of acceptance so that she could start to learn and grow again. If she wasn't already so ahead in her classes, this month would've set her far behind.
Whether she liked it or not, Peter and Spider-man had changed her. The way her mind was always preoccupied with them, wondering if they're okay and wondering about her connection with them. Hell, even worrying she might have feelings for two different people.
When Peter visited the diner, everything else seemed to fade away. There were no other customers, Ned disappeared, and so did all of her thoughts. Her heart rate slowed. She was breathing with ease, curious and witty as ever. If only he came in bottled anti-depressant form, that'd be great.
MJ shook her head. If she didn't know any better, she would've thought she'd been drugged. The only thing that kept her from going to a doctor to check was Ned. He was experiencing much of the same.
What if they were both drugged? MJ cocked her head to the side, but the question was ridiculous. The only thing anybody would want from them are homework answers–they would give it up easily.
In an effort to trace the issue back to the source, MJ's thoughts landed on Dr. Strange. The wizard was of no help, but he was the only person (other than Ned) present when she felt the content sucked out of her brain. But he was just as disoriented, and Spider-man, who MJ could've sworn was just there, was nowhere to be found.
MJ looked up at the subway station to see that she missed her stop. She quickly exited the train and tried to make her way to the other side of the platform so she could go back.
What's the point, she found herself asking again. Answers.
These feelings were so all-consuming. And, once again, solving the mystery was not just a fun quest for love or a schoolgirl crush. Yes, she did think Peter was cute, but understanding the past was a quest for her sanity because she literally couldn't think about anything else except why swinging through the cold air was so familiar, or why things were only okay when Peter was around. It was almost toxic. She just wanted to be herself again.
On the platform, she faced a blank LED screen, so shiny that she could see her reflection. Her hair was messier than usual, and her eyes were a little further sunken. She thought she saw Peter's face in a passerby, but upon turning around, all she got was whiplash. No sign of Peter.
The crack in her neck was MJ's last straw. She was a scientist and a writer and a goddamn genius. She didn't need anyone else's intel or the internet to figure out the truth. She would figure it out herself.
Next time, she would ask the questions.
With another plan in mind, MJ tried to get on the train with confidence. She people watched and straightened her back and read Angela Davis like it was nobody's business.
She was herself, if only for a few minutes. But it was a step towards confidence and familiarity. She would know herself again–it was only a matter of time.