Peter slowly opened his eyes. He looked. Mary Jane was opening the window. He could smell breakfast wafting in from the kitchen. He smiled.

'You look so tired, Peter.' She said, and sat on the edge of the bed, feeling his forehead for any sign of temperature. Peter breathed deeply.

'MJ, I was so scared. The dream, you were dead. A knife –'

Peter shivered and looked away. She looked worried, and was about to say something, when a police siren was heard outside in the street.

'Peter?' she asked, puzzled, as her husband made no attempt to get up.

'I can't leave you here alone. Harry will get you.'

'Harry? Peter, Harry wouldn't hurt me.'

'He nearly killed me. I can't be sure anymore.'

Mary Jane kissed his forehead, and went off to get the breakfast.

Peter had been thinking lately. I mean, before the dream. He had seen other people's children, and wondered…but he couldn't. It would be too dangerous. If anyone found out, he was dead meat. Especially after the dream. He couldn't put any child of his in that danger, as well as Mary Jane. If Harry saw her carrying his child…

But Peter was upset. He wanted to be like any other guy. He'd faced that choice before, and he knew what would happen if he gave up again.

Beaten, he sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands. He heard his wife come in, and she sat down next to him, a hand on his shoulder.

'Come on, what's up?' she asked, shaking him gently. He smiled involuntarily. She smiled back.

'MJ, I need to talk to you…'

'About what?'

'Uh…' he began, searching for inspiration. He turned to face her, and took her hands in his, staring into her eyes.

'MJ, I know it's dangerous, and I know I'm stupid…but…I…have been thinking a lot lately…look, MJ, I don't know how to put this to you, and I can't understand why I haven't – why we haven't – talked about it before.'

Mary Jane smiled.

'I want a child of our own. I know the risks, but I don't know what to do. Help me, Mary Jane. Help me.'

Mary Jane pulled him close, resting his head on her shoulder, comforting him. Peter felt like crying.

'Peter, I want a baby as well. But, you see, it would be incredibly risky. Almost too risky…'

'Almost? I don't understand.' Peter replied, puzzled.

'Do you think I would let Harry Osborn lay a finger on any child of ours?' she said, laughing. Peter laughed back, his whole face lighting up. He kissed her, and cupped her face with his hand, smiling.

Outside, he heard a police siren.

'Go, I'll be fine!' Mary Jane chivvied, and watched as he ran over to the window and changed into his outfit.

'Be safe.' He told her.

'I will be.'

'Promise me.'

'I promise.' She said. He pulled on his mask, and hurried off.