This was supposed to be a one-shot and it actually turned into a book. But it was the most fun I've ever had writing anything... and I've written lots of books. This is based mostly on the Raimi film trilogy, but I drew a lot of inspiration from the official novelizations of the Raimi films, the other Spider-Man films, the comics, and even a little bit from some of the scenes I've seen from the game. And, of course, a lot of my own imagination. This is set pretty soon after the One More Day comic but, since I was sticking faithfully to Raimiverse, I had to eliminate the Avengers and so majorly toned down the action of that comic. But anyway, hope you enjoy! I would really appreciate thoughts and comments.


Mary Jane rolled over in bed and reached over to hit the snooze button on the alarm clock. She was still exhausted, although she couldn't understand why. She had, after all, had a full night of sleep. But rather than fall asleep until the alarm rang again, she lay on her back and stared idly at the ceiling. She had had some pretty weird nightmares. She couldn't remember what they were and she hated that. Squinting her eyes in concentration, she vaguely remembered a huge red monster with glaring yellow eyes. More like a demon than a monster. She shuddered, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"They say this happens when you eat pizza before bed," she sighed. "Trouble is, I didn't eat any pizza."

The alarm rang again and she sat up, dangling her legs over the edge of the bed. Something else had happened in that dream… someone's arms around her, holding her close. Someone's lips pressed to hers. Someone whispering into her ear... "I love you"...

"Weird." MJ frowned and glanced at the clock. Seven thirty. And she needed to be at the theater by eight. Sliding to the floor, she threw open the door of her closet and rummaged through it hurriedly.

oOo

"Another day done," Mary Jane sighed as she found herself backstage at last with the thundering applause of the audience still ringing through the auditorium. "Thank God it's over." Sophie stared at her, cocking her head sideways in confusion.

"What's up with you, MJ? You're usually walking on air after a performance. You were only half up to your usual ability tonight. And you almost missed your most important line." She assumed a poetic stance and an overly-exaggerated emotional tone. 'No matter what challenges keep us apart, we'll always find a way back to each other. Love always finds a way.' Kind of spoiled the effect."

"Oh, leave me alone, Sophie," MJ waved her aside. "I'm just not feeling the best tonight. Need to get home… and go to bed." But she shuddered as she said it. She hated the thought of going back to her dark, empty apartment. Pushing past her understudy, she all but dragged herself down the hallway, pausing before the door bearing a star and her name: Mary Jane Watson. Reaching up, she ran her fingers over the raised letters, frowning. Something didn't seem right. And then she glanced at her hand and pulled it away. She grasped her left hand in her right, frowning at her empty ring finger. She felt almost a light pressure around it as if something should have been there that wasn't.

"Something's missing," she murmured, but she shrugged it off as she pushed the door open. Of course it was empty, as she had expected it to be, but some part of her hadn't expected it to be at the same time. With a heavy sigh, she sank into the chair before her dressing table and stared at her face… pale beneath her makeup. "What's wrong with me anyway?"

It had been this way for weeks, with no way to explain the strange, icy feeling clamped round her heart. It frightened her at times with its almost painful intensity. There was no way to explain it, no reason for it. And the nightmare of the red demon kept playing through her mind. Every night. Pounding through her brain, torturing her every sleeping moment, until she was almost terrified of sleeping. She had forced herself to stay awake until she gave in to sleep from sheer exhaustion, every single night for weeks. And even more terrifying than the monster was the mystery person who held her tight, whispering "I love you". It wasn't he that was terrifying, but the fact that she had no memory of him, no idea who he was. The vague feelings in her deepest heart of hearts refused to surface, no matter how hard she struggled.

oOo

The sky was black, the moon and stars hidden behind night clouds as Mary Jane left the theater. She had stalled in her dressing room as long as she dared and had been the last of the performers to leave. She had even managed to escape the crowds of autograph seekers. In spite of the natural darkness, however, the streets were ablaze with the lights of traffic and the streetlights overhead as well as the neon signs and bright windows of storefronts and restaurants lining the streets. The entire atmosphere was one of noisy chaos and MJ bent her head as she hurried along the sidewalk, in attempt to shut it all out. Just ahead of her was the bus stop and she quickened her pace to make the bus that was loading even then. The doors were beginning to close and she broke into a run, not wanting to loiter on the sidewalk until another came through.

She was too late and, in a final burst of energy, she slipped and fell in the street, her ankle wrenching sideways with sudden, terrible pain. She tried frantically to struggle to her feet, hearing the sounds of car horns and the shouts of onlookers, but she couldn't move. She turned her head, seeing a car coming straight towards her, too fast to stop in time. As she screamed in panic, she felt herself lifted from the ground and swung out of the way. Her body went limp in instant relief as she clung to the masked man who carried her out of danger, high above the city. But she closed her eyes until she felt her feet hit solid ground. She cried out in pain and sank to the pavement, reaching down to hold her leg. He knelt on the ground beside her, gently running a gloved hand across her ankle.

"Are you all right?"

"No… no… it hurts…" MJ bit her lip to keep the tears in her eyes from falling.

"I think it's broken," Spider-Man stood. "I'll get you to a hospital." Bending down, he scooped her up carefully and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he once again swung into the air, far above the streets. She shivered suddenly at the strange feeling she felt creeping down her spine. She recounted the times that she remembered him saving her life. That day at the World Unity Festival... the night in the dark alley. She had felt this before. His arms around her. This feeling of complete trust and safety. But there was something more to it. Something deep and personal and yet… shadowy… so far away and long ago that it wasn't even a memory. Just a feeling of something lost.

Her reverie was cut short as he dropped to the ground just in front of the hospital.

"Courtesy of your friendly neighborhood ambulance service."

She laughed.

"That isn't what you said before."

"Gotta adapt to the situation," he shrugged. He carried her inside, explaining what happened to a startled nurse in as few words as possible before setting her carefully down in the waiting room.

"Alright. You're gonna be okay now."

"Thank you," MJ smiled up at him. "Thank you again." Reaching up, she pulled his head down and pressed her lips to his masked cheek. He stepped back as she let go, raising his hand to his face as if startled. But in another moment, he was gone.

"Well." the nurse sighed, shaking her head. "I can't say I've ever seen that before. We'll get this taken care of as soon as possible. Can I get your name?"

"Mary Jane… Mary Jane…" she hesitated, her forehead creasing in confusion. "Watson." she finished, faltering. "Mary Jane Watson."

"Alright, Miss Watson. Just give me a few moments and we'll get you transferred to a room."

MJ sighed and leaned back in her chair, raising a hand to her head. Maybe she had hit it in the accident. What else would make her feel like she could barely remember her own name? Why did the name Watson sound strange to her?

oOo

"Mary Jane, honey. Are you sure you're alright?" Mrs. Watson rushed nervously about MJ's tiny apartment, fussing with the curtains, the pillows on the couch, the books on the side table. Her face was lined with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine Mom." MJ smiled. "Just got a little banged up. See if you ever catch me wearing high heels again!"

"What about your play?" her mother frowned and MJ pressed her lips together in frustration.

"I talked to my manager," she answered, grimacing. "Sophie… my understudy… is taking my place for the next six weeks. I should be out of the cast by then. If I'm not, I could lose my spot. I'd better focus on getting better fast."

"Well I'll be praying for you. Is there anything you need, MJ? I should be getting to work soon, so I want to make sure you're perfectly comfortable before I leave."

"Eh… I should be fine," MJ shrugged. "I think I've just about got everything I need. And I'm not completely immobile, you know. Just wish that I had a script to study. You know," she frowned in contemplation as something suddenly surfaced in her mind. "There's an old box of papers under my bed left over from my highschool days. Reports, short stories, stuff like that. I've been wanting a chance to go through it all… think you could grab it?"

"I'm on it," her mother laughed and bowed grandly. "Your wish is my command."

She emerged from the bedroom moments later with bearing a dusty old cardboard box with "MJ's Papers" scrawled on the side in blue marker. It had been taped shut and torn open several times and the sides were wrinkled and dented.

"Look at that," MJ laughed as her mother deposited it proudly on her lap. "Looks like an ancient relic. Boy, do I feel old."

"You're only twenty-four. Don't you dare let me hear you say that you're old," her mother slapped at her playfully. "Just wait till you get to be my age."

"I'll let you know how I feel when I get there then," MJ grinned as she tore open the box and rifled through her papers. "Hey! Look at this!" she pulled out a worn little book with a tattered brown leather cover. "My old diary. Haven't seen this in…" she paused and frowned, pressing her hand to her head.

"What's wrong, MJ?" Her mother leaned forward in concern. "Does your head hurt?"

"No…" MJ said vaguely, shaking her head. She pushed the box aside, but clung to the diary as if she couldn't bear to set it down. "I should… I should read through this."

"You do that, honey," her mother smiled. "Relive all the old memories. So glad to see that you kept it… and that it's been well-used. I'd better get on to work. But I'll stop in again tonight to see how you're doing, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks," MJ spoke indifferently as she was already opening the little leather book, staring like one transfixed at her carefully-flowing script in black ink running across the pages. A shiver ran down her spine and her hands trembled. What forgotten secrets about her life could these pages be hiding?