The air is unbearably frozen.

Even in the warmth of the suit, the cold bites into Peter's skin as he soars higher into the night sky. Tired and bruised, he has had enough for the day. His arms and legs ache; they are numb, and he can't feel holding the web line he has just shot. It's all guesswork and instinct that keeps him from plummeting downward.

He lands on his terrace and rolls to a stop. Pain shooting up his spine, he manages to sit, and sighs. His body feels like it weighs a ton, and he realizes that it's a matter of time before he can change and walk down the stairs to the floor his apartment sits upon. He has a terrible headache, all the more amplified by the mask. It feels suffocating, being so tight and fit. Hell, he'll have to take it off anyway, so he checks around, and seeing no one, removes it. The cold greets his face, and for a moment, his nostrils feel stuffed up and he is breathless. It burns his eyes, and he can feel them turning red.

There is a shuffle behind him, but he doesn't anticipate it, though. It dawns on him that perhaps it is a little too late to put the mask back on.

Peter jumps to his feet and walks away when he hears a gasp behind him, and he knows all too well who it is. He secretly curses himself for being so careless. First it was his aunt, and now-

"Peter is that you?" Mary Jane's voice is shocked and faltering. It's so intervening in the silence that it feels loud enough for entire Queens to hear her. It makes his heart pound and blood rush to his face.

Peter doesn't move. He doesn't walk. He just stands with his back to her, for he knows if he takes a single stride, she'll know it is him, which, seemingly, she already has. "Peter you're Spider-Man?"


It had been quite a stretch since Peter and his aunt May had had Ned, Peter's best friend, over for lunch, not since the Hulk had resurrected the missing half of the universe who were snapped away due to the blip. Peter still remembered the smell of the disastrous burning turkey meat loaf recipe May had tried once. She had suggested Thai food for plan B.

"What if it's a disaster this time too?" Ned joked. Both he and Peter were standing before the latter's apartment door, and Ned had produced a Lego version of Batman from his trouser pocket. "Tell me, do you bleed?"

"Then we have that Thai food restaurant to back us up," Peter shrugged, ignoring the Lego piece and Ned's imitation of Batman's. "And don't worry. I won't chase you away this time too."

There had been a scuffle behind them all along, and as they finally turned around, the door opened and a familiar red head popped out. At first, she too was startled to see them, but then she overcame her surprise and waved.

"Hi," she said, looking rather happy.

Peter just couldn't believe it.

If he could recall correctly, the last two days since she had arrived, he'd spent most of his time with her. Mary Jane was a nice girl. She was good company, but it was evident that he was spending less and less time with Michelle, and he could see the hurt in her eyes, although she never showed it.

And now here Mary Jane was, again, coming out of a door right opposite his.

"I think you're supposed to say hi," Ned whispered into his ear, and it dawned on Peter that he had kept her hanging in the air for a moment.

"Uh hey," he said. "Didn't know you lived here too."

"Well we just moved in today," Mary Jane said. "So it's you, or Ned, that lives here?"

"It's actually him," Ned replied, pointing at Peter. "But I wish it was me."


"Next door?" Michelle exclaimed, although her emphasis sounded more like she was scolding Peter. "Now she lives next door?"

"Well what can I do?" Peter said. He noticed Michelle, noticed that there was something unsettling about how her face had changed colour. Unlike the girlfriend syndrome, as Flash liked to call it, which, in other words meant jealousy, she looked scared. Terrified. She looked suddenly very cold, for she pulled her jacket taut around her. She was shivering, but there was also some anger flashing in her eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, holding her hand. And it did seem cold. She was holding his a little too tight, as if afraid to let go. "What is it, MJ?"

She shook her head. "Nothing." Then after a pause, "Peter?"

"Yeah."

She gave him a look that almost unsettled him. For a moment her eyes looked deadly scary. "You don't believe in alternate universes, do you?"

Alternate universes? The one thing that came to his mind when someone said alternate universes was a fish bowl and a purple cape. "But why?"

"Just asking."

"I did, but you know what happened. Well if you look at it analytically, it is not possible. Quantum Physics doesn't allow it, for it interferes with the Planck Scale. It's all a hoax."

She nodded, yet her eyes seemed far ahead. "Yeah, okay. That's what I thought."


There is a cigarette in her hand with an unsuccessfully burnt end. In her other hand, and although she tries to hide it at first, Mary Jane is holding a lighter. Peter notices it gradually. He could have, at once, but his heart is broken. Broken because lately he has been a failure at keeping his identity secret. To be frank, he has been a failure at keeping any secret at all. What is it that you go on around telling everyone who you are? Happy Hogan's rebuke rings in his ears. "Hi, I'm Peter Parker. Hi, I'm Peter Parker, call me Spider-man?"

It's the same thing that he thinks over and over again: he needs to be more careful.

"You do that often?" he asks, pointing at the roll of cigarette. For heaven's sake, he doesn't know what to say, and he has to do anything he can to fill up the silence.

Mary Jane makes a disgusting face. He shakes her head. "I found it in my aunt's coat pocket. Wanted to try one. Never did it before." She looks at the roll, and flicks it away, over the edge of the terrace. "But you know what? Never mind!"

Peter smiles. "What are you doing up here in the cold?"

She shrugs. "I should be asking you that, Spider-Man. You look tired and injured."

Peter sighs, and sits down on a old, forbidden wooden bench. "That is what I do."

She walks over, and leaning down, places a hand on his forehead. Her hands are warm and soft, even in the cold, and Peter wonders if Michelle's will feel the same. The bench he is sitting on has room for three, and Mary Jane sits herself beside him. She takes off her jacket and puts it around him. "You're gonna catch a fever," she says. "You're cold."

Peter is reluctant to accept her offer. "And you're not?"

She looks down at him, and her eyes are fixed to the spider insignia on his chest. "Well you are the one who's been out here, it looks like, for the entire time. I came right now. Just take it." She pats him on the back, and Peter thankfully accepts it.

"One thing," he says after an awkward pause.

"Yeah?"

"Please don't tell anyone. It's really crucial I keep it a secret."

She nods very slowly. "I know. I get it, but it's really cool. I'm really freaking out. The only thing that's keeping me quiet is the cold. It's awesome, though."

"Trust me. It isn't. By the way, um, I think it's time we went inside. It's really freezing out here."


Michelle is incredulous the next day. Peter tells her everything when school is over. For something, she has developed this nervous habit of biting her lower lip, and she does so now, to the point it cracks and bleeds.

"So now she knows too," she says, terribly calm. "Is anything else left?"

"But Michelle," Peter tries to explain, jumping before her, too worried she might leave again. "I'm, uh, it was not intentional. How was I to know she was there?"

Michelle shrugs. "I'm not blaming you." She gives him a sly smile. "It wasn't your fault I figured out who you were."

Peter breaths a sigh of relief. He knows there is something she is not telling, but forcing Michelle to confess something is as good as trying to move a mountain with bare hands. Just as she says, she isn't good with people. Peter isn't, either, for that matter, but apparently he has more people he is comfortable around.

He puts an arm around Michelle, and tugs her forward. Had it been anyone else doing that, they would have lost their arm, but Peter knows he can cross the line sometimes. All he wants is to see a smile on her face. "Come on, honey," he says in a weird, gentlemanly voice, "let's go grab some lunch today. I've brought my wallet, and I'll let May know that I won't be coming home right now. I'm going out with my girl."

Michelle pretends to consider, then smiles very slightly.

"Yo Mary Jane Watson," someone calls from behind, and turning around, they find that it's Flash. Peter doesn't know what happened to him after Homecoming Night years ago after Spider-Man crashed his car, for Flash only rides a bicycle now. Sometimes he comes on foot.

"Sorry," Flash says, "That's a pretty long name. Not used to it. Like, I am Eugene, but I like it when people call me Flash. So I was asking." He slows down a bit, and turns to look at Peter looking at him.

"What's up Penis Parker?" he says and chuckles. "Gotten over the girlfriend syndrome?"

"Hey Insect," Mary Jane says in her flirtatious tone, walking over to Flash. "Fire away whatever you want to ask. And you're right. Name is a little too long Sometimes I feel that too. All this Mary Jane-Mary Jane-Mary Jane… So call me what everybody calls me. MJ."

Michelle, who is sipping water from her bottle spits it all out. Her eyes go wide and face turns red. "What?"


A/N: I'd like to thank those who have put this story into their favorites and alert list. I thank MarvelousManiac for his review. I'm grateful for all the support. It means a lot. I hope you keep on reading.