Harry returned from his "excursion" feeling conflicted. He had almost lost control when he stood before MJ. He didn't understand it. The scientists had assured him that the formula was perfect now. He wasn't like his father. He was sane, he knew he was. But something inside him fought for control. He felt it creep up inside him as he hovered overhead and watch the two lovers embrace, then kiss. His mind had stopped for a moment. His body had reacted. He flew down and swung out and hit Peter with all his might.
"Not Peter, damn it!! Spiderman, you have to think of him as Spiderman!" Harry yelled to his reflection in the mirror. Harry stared at himself, confused, elated, and worried. His body was invigorated with adrenaline. Spiderman hadn't shown up as he liked. But at least he got his point across to him. They was a new player in town. I wonder what name I should give myself? Harry thought as an evil smile, so much like his father's, crossed his face in joy of being SEEN for the first time in his life.
Peter awoke exhausted. The sun was just beginning to rise as Peter opened his eyes. He knew what had happened, but couldn't remember all the details. His thoughts flashed images in his mind: a flash of silver, pain, falling, more pain, ice, MJ's scream, a dirty cab, MJ's whispered words of comfort, shivering, more shivering, a wolf. The images seemed to make no sense, but Peter knew it wasn't good what had happened.
Peter turned his head to the side. MJ slept peacefully next to him. Her arms over her head, as was her usual position. Peter looked under the covers, realizing that MJ must have undressed him, since he hadn't done it himself. He smiled and rolled to face MJ. The comforters covered he entire body, but Peter knew she was naked as well. His body reacted to the thoughts of waking MJ with a passionate kiss, but thought against it. She went through hell last night, she needs her sleep, especially if she's….. Peter didn't, or couldn't, finish the thought. Is this what it's going to be like? Peter wondered as he looked up into the horizon, where the sun was just coming up over the New York skyline. As Peter pondered that thought, MJ decided to roll towards him. Her hand absently ran down his chest, and she nuzzled closer to Peter's bare chest. Peter smiled, kissing her forehead softly and running his hand across MJ's exposed hip. He would've gone further, but there was a knock on the door. What the hell? Peter thought as he moved to the edge of the bed. As he stood up from the bed, he heard the lock turn and the door open. Peter froze. Only two other people had keys to this apartment, other than him and MJ. Harry and Aunt May. Could it be Harry? Peter thought first as he listened to the door close gently.
"Peter? Peter?!" Aunt May called from the doorway. Peter's eyes widened as he stood up quickly, a comforter wrapped around his waist, then looked to the bed and MJ, then to the doorway. Should I answer her? Peter thought nervously. If I don't maybe she'll just leave. NO, I can't do that, then she'll be worried sick that I'm not home at this ungodly hour. Peter mused as he crept quietly towards the open doorway. As he walked the floorboard creaked, Peter winced at the sound and froze. Wait a minute! Ungodly hour? What the hell was Aunt May doing here at this ungodly hour? With that Peter forgot all about being quiet and rushed down the stairs to Aunt May, not caring that he had 5 feet of comforter trailing behind him.
Aunt May knocked on the door and waited. She hadn't heard from Peter in so long, and she was worried. She had meant to you to a sunrise Catholic mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral, but had wandered to Peter's apartment. When Peter didn't answer, she decided to use her key. Aunt May entered quietly, closing the door behind her. She called Peter's name, no response. He's probably still asleep. Aunt May thought as she walked cautiously further into the apartment. She noticed the burned up chicken, still in the pan, sitting on the stove. Aunt May smiled knowing that Peter wasn't good in the kitchen. She imagined all sorts of trouble Peter must be getting into in the kitchen if he's trying to cook for himself. He should just come home if he wants a home cooked meal. Aunt May sighed. Suddenly, there was a creak above. Aunt May peered up curiously, then stepped back a step as someone, or something, came running down the stairs. Aunt May gasped in shock as Peter came tearing down the stairs with, apparently, only a comforter wrapped around his hips. Peter ran up to Aunt May, concern in his eyes.
"What's the matter? What's wrong?!" Peter asked as he held the comforter in one hand and put his hand on Aunt May's shoulder in concern. Aunt May couldn't speak, she was speechless. When Peter had lived at home he had been very private and shy. He would have NEVER walked out of his bedroom without a shirt on, let alone what he was standing in now. Aunt May recovered and smiled brightly at Peter, taking his hand from her shoulder, holding it in hers.
"Nothing's the matter. I just wanted to see you." Aunt May released his hand and embraced him softly. Her hands came up to frame Peter's face; just any mother would, and peered into his face. "Are you alright? You're not sick are you?" Aunt May's brow furrowed with worry, but released Peter's face as he turned away. His shoulders were slumped, his back bowed, but Peter was relieved she was okay. He lived in constant fear that someone would harm her, just like the Green Goblin had tried to.
I never realized that Peter had so many muscles. Aunt May mused as she watched him flop onto the couch, readjusting the comforter as he sat there. "How about I make you some breakfast? How many eggs do you want?" Aunt May walked into the kitchen, removing her white gloves as she went.
"Umm, that would be great Aunt May. Three eggs would be good." Peter replied as he rubbed his throbbing temples with his right hand.
"Three eggs, Peter? Didn't you eat dinner last night? Normally you can eat one and your pretty full?" Aunt May asked as she started to cook the eggs.
Peter laughed, "Well, I did eat, but I'm just famished for your cooking right now."
Aunt May laughed and waved her hand at Peter for his foolishness. Another creak sounded from above. Peter's head whipped up to the ceiling, remembering MJ upstairs, NAKED as he was. Aunt May looked up as well, but there was no time, MJ was already on the landing before Peter could stop her. MJ stood on the landing, a sheet from Peter's bed wrapped around and tucked under her arms, wide-eyed. She looked at Peter, who was covering his face with one hand to Aunt May, who held an unopened egg over the fry pan. No one spoke. No on could speak. Peter felt horrible, MJ was embarrassed, and Aunt May was…..happy. Aunt May looked down, a smile hovering at her lips, and carefully cracked the egg into the pan. She cleared her throat, wiped her hands on a dishtowel, and walked up to MJ, who was still frozen on the stairs landing.
"And how many eggs would you like dear?"
Breakfast was finished. Everyone was dressed. And Aunt May was elated. She was so happy for Peter and MJ. She had known for years how much Peter had loved MJ. Sometimes she became concerned over his crush, especially as he started to get older. She had hoped that MJ would notice how special Peter was, but it never surfaced while they had been in high school. Aunt May thought of the night of the senior prom. Peter hadn't attended, even after she had tried to convince him to go. She watched as Peter sat on the living room couch and watched from the front window as MJ and Flash Thompson left together. Aunt May's eyes had filled with tears from the look of pure longing in Peter's beautiful blue eyes as he watched them leave. That night she prayed fervently that Peter would find someone worthy of all love he was capable of. She couldn't curse MJ, because Peter never let her know how much he cared. But now he obviously had. That made Aunt May smile as she watch them at the table.
Aunt May left the apartment around 11:00 o'clock. Peter hugged her and promised to call her more often. He shut the door behind her, leaning his back against it and letting out a deep breath. He felt like he'd been holding it for hours. He walked into the living room until a basketball flew at him from the side. His spider-sense responded and he caught it deftly.
"I can't believe you let me come down here, dressed like that!!" MJ yelled from the same landing she had stood on that morning. He cheeks were flushed and her hair pulled up in a neat clip. She tapped her Nike-shoed foot and put her hands on her hips. Peter smiled and tossed the ball back at her. She caught it clumsily.
"It wasn't like I planned it that way, MJ. She just showed up. If it's any consolation, I came down here almost buck naked, THANK YOU very much." The ball came back at Peter; MJ throwing it will all her might at him.
"What was I suppose to do, Mr. Spiderman, let you freeze to death in those wet clothes? I had to get you outta them." MJ yelled back, but quieted at the mention of Spiderman. Peter idly tossed the basketball from hand to hand as he approach MJ on the landing, a devilish gleam in his eye.
"No. But, I sure had other ideas on my mind as I woke up with a incredibly beautiful, red-haired woman in my bed." Peter dropped the ball on the landing and started to kiss MJ softly. "I thought 'I need to fall into the Hudson more often if I get to wake up like this'." Peter kissed MJ passionately after that last and pushed her up against the stair railing. MJ pushed Peter away and looked directly into his eyes.
"You didn't fall Peter, you were hit and thrown into the river. Don't you remember? That thing?" MJ words were like a bucket of cold water on Peter. He remembered and just didn't want to. That was the problem; he didn't want to be Spiderman, not all the time. Peter lurched away from MJ, running his hand through his hair, putting his arm behind his back as he started to pace the living room.
"I'm sorry, Peter." MJ pleaded as she reached out to him. Peter flinched away. MJ pulled her hands back and looked away.
"Don't be sorry, MJ. You're right. I've gotta go. I think there's a fire over on 5th Avenue, they'll probably need me." Peter started to pass MJ, but she grabbed his arm to stop him. He paused looking down at her hand on his bicep.
"I need you. Don't forget that." MJ looked directly into Peter's troubled blue eyes, never flinching or looking away until he nodded his head. She watched as he headed for the roof, and then slowly sank on the floor, praying for them both.