No words passed between any other them as they rode the subway home. Aunt May was still as could be, looking at Peter with watery eyes, but unable to speak. MJ leaned her head on Peter's shoulder, her arms wrapped around Peter's bicep. Peter for his part was brooding. His hand gripped the pole in front of him; he repeatedly gripped and released the pole. MJ must have noticed it because she looked curiously at him over his shoulder. Peter was mad; mad at the world. She could see it in the straight set of his shoulders and his repeated gripping of the pole. MJ didn't know what to make of it; it was as if he was strangling someone over and over. She didn't know how they were going to get Peter out of this mess. MJ leaned her head back onto Peter's shoulder and sighed.

 Peter was strangling someone. In his mind he was strangling Harry. Not for making his life hell, not for making him give up being Spiderman, not for betraying their friendship. But because of the marks on MJ neck that she says in her "dream" she had gotten. The thought replayed over and over in his mind. He was mad at the thought that Harry would use MJ to get to him, even after Harry told Peter how much he cared about her. But MJ was safe now. She right next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. It gave Peter comfort knowing that she was still there; she hadn't given up on him. She'd obviously done as he had told her to do. The suits, drawings, everything that WAS Spiderman was gone. Good riddance, Peter thought. Now he could just live his life and not have to choose anymore.

The three of them exited the subway station a few blocks from Peter and MJ's apartment.

Peter wrapped his arm around Aunt May, holding her close as they walked. MJ drifted behind them to give them privacy. Aunt May was so distraught over Peter's arrest. She had begged and pleaded with the police that her Peter couldn't, and wouldn't, have done what they were accusing him of. The police had just scoffed at her. She had been so worried about him. He was all she had left in the world.

They walked in silence until they reached the apartment building. Thank God the reporters weren't around. Peter feared he would have to punch a few of them out. He hated the paparazzi. He now knew what it was like to be famous, or infamous, and have the media watching your every move. Peter hugged Aunt May, "Don't go back to the house. It isn't safe." Peter replied ominously. Aunt May nodded in agreement, thinking he was talking about the media, not the wolf phantom.

"I'm going to stay with a friend. Celeste Gollihugh, you remember her, right? She lives in Brooklyn, I'll stay with her. Besides, it will give us time to catch up." Aunt May's voice wavered, but she didn't cry. Peter could see her inner torment and wanted desperately to stop it.

"I promise you everything will be fine. I promise." Peter kissed Aunt May's cheek and hailed a taxi to the side of the street. MJ smiled as Aunt May as she walked to the cab. Aunt May paused before getting in, turned and walked to MJ, embracing her tightly.

"Keep him safe. He loves you so much I fear he'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe." Aunt May whispered urgently into MJ's ear as they hugged. MJ nodded against Aunt May's shoulder. Then Aunt May leaned back from their embrace, took MJ's tear-stained face in her hands. She looked deeply to MJ's eyes, much like a proud mother would look at her daughter on her wedding day, and softly kissed her cheek. MJ smiled and took Aunt May's hands in hers, squeezing them reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'll keep him safe. I promise you that."

Peter stood by the cab, holding the door open for Aunt May. He watched the moment between MJ and his Aunt May, the only woman he would ever call his mother. Emotion caught in Peter's throat. He watched Aunt May walk back to the car. She stroked his cheek lovingly before she got it. Peter shut the door and slapped the roof twice as a signal to go.

Peter watched the cab ride away. MJ walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Peter covered her hands with his in silent acknowledgment. They were truly on their own now.

They entered their apartment quietly. It seemed that everywhere they went in the apartment there was a reminder of what Peter had given up. A copy of the Daily Bugle, once again with a photo of Spiderman on its cover, sat on the coffee table. Peter took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he sat in the overstuffed chair in front of the TV.

MJ walked by, removing her coat as she went. "I'm going to take a shower, I'll be back." Peter nodded and turned the TV on. The news wasn't any better there. All they talked about were stabbings, muggings, carjackings, and murders that had been occurring around the city. Then a segment started asking this question: "Where is Spiderman?" It was an editorial segment, with two people for and against him. Peter couldn't watch. That wasn't him anymore.

His curiosity got the best of him. He quietly walked up the stairs to their room. He came to the closet. He started to push the panel back, but then he heard it. MJ's crying was soft and gut wrenching. The shower masked most of it, but he could hear it. He walked into the bathroom, listening to her pitiful sobs. He couldn't see her through the shower curtain, but he knew she was crying because of him. Without even taking off his clothes, he stepped into the shower. MJ gasped in surprise as Peter entered. She quickly tried to hide her tears, but Peter wouldn't let her. The marks on her neck were even more visible now, in the bright lit of day and against MJ pale skin. The bruises had gotten darker overnight and it scared Peter to death.

"I think you forgot something." MJ stated, trying to sound happy, looking at Peter's soaked clothes.

"What's wrong, MJ?" Peter asked as the water coursed down them both.

"Nothing. I'm glad your home." MJ purred as she wrapped her arms around Peter's neck and tried to kiss him sweetly. Peter saw right through her game. He had seen it a thousand times before. It was the same façade she put on in high school. He didn't but into it then, and he wasn't going to buy into it now.

"Stop, stop it, MJ! I heard you crying. Don't shut me out, please. Tell me what's wrong? Did Harry do anything more that this?" Peter asked anxiously as he pointed to the choke marks on MJ's neck.

"No. Its just…. it's just…you gave everything up for me." MJ's voice began to waver as she looked up at Peter, his hair and clothes now plastered to his body from the shower. Peter grabbed MJ by the upper arms, bringing her closer to him

"I gave everything up for us. US! I love you! It was my decision. I want us to have a normal life. I don't want to be…. him. anymore. I just want to Peter Parker, that's all. To hell with everyone else, I don't care and I don't want to care." Peter said what was in the deepest recesses of his heart. How he really felt sometimes about being Spiderman. It was shock to MJ, but more of a shock to Peter for actually having voiced his true feelings. MJ decided this was as good a time as any, and that another shock wouldn't hurt them.

"I'm pregnant." MJ stated flatly, looking directly into Peter's eyes. Peter's hands released their hold on MJ's upper arms. Peter looked shocked, but then he smiled, pulling MJ into his arms forcefully. MJ smiled into his shoulder and wrapped her arms around Peter's chest, hugging him just as fiercely as he was hugging her.

A few hours later MJ woke up alone in bed. Peter and her had made love after the shower. A slow passionate love that blew away any of the other times they had been together. As MJ looked around the room she saw Peter standing on the balcony. He wore a pair of cotton sleep pants that rode low on his hips and no shirt. His arms had a death gripped the railing, which MJ could see from the muscles flexing in his arms. She looked at the clock by the bed. It read 9:32 p.m. MJ grabbed a shirt and put it on. She walked quietly to the balcony.

Peter knew the moment MJ woke up, the moment she turned towards him, and the moment she got out of bed. He knew she stood less than a foot behind him, leaning one beautiful shoulder against the doorjamb, her arms crossed over her chest. He could feel her eyes running over his body in appreciation of its form. Peter smiled to himself, but didn't turn around. He couldn't. His spider-senses had awoken him. He had jumped out of bed and gone directly to the closet. Only half way there he realized that he could do nothing. He wasn't HIM anymore. The feeling was horrible. Peter could smell the fire a few blocks away. In his mind he could hear the screams of people needing help. It was driving him insane. He wished he could just turn it off. MJ, for her part, stood and waited. Peter extended his hand back behind, inviting MJ to join him on the balcony. MJ gladly accepted and moved in front of him, his arms braced on either side of her body. MJ felt protected, cherished, loved. It was wonderful. The wind blew and MJ shivered, Peter reacted by wrapping his arms around her body, pulling her up against Peter's warmth. "Hmmmm, this feels good." MJ sighed.

"Well, I had to return the favor you did for me once." Peter whispered into MJ's ear, nipping at it softly. With the mention of that night, MJ stiffened.

"Peter, what are we going to do?"

"Were going to get married, have a baby and live happily ever after."

"Is that a proposal?"

"Yeah, I guess it is." Peter replied sheepishly. MJ turned in his arms looking directly into Peter's eyes.

"But what about….the charges against you?" MJ waited expectantly.

"Well, two can play the game Harry is playing." MJ looked confusedly at Peter, who smiled and took her hand in his, leading her to the closet. Peter opened the false panel and reached inside. He pulled out a Spiderman suit, holding it up in front of MJ.

"But I thought I destroyed them all?"

"I remembered after you left the jail that I kept one stashed in another place in the closet. I prayed that you would find it, but then I prayed you wouldn't."

"So how are we going to play the same 'game' as Harry?" MJ asked curiously.

"I think it's time Spiderman died a horrible death." MJ's eyes widened in shock, then in understanding. If Harry thought that Peter/Spiderman was dead, maybe they could catch him.