There were certain advantages to my living situation. I didn't have to worry about getting caught while sneaking in through the window of my own place. I get to set my own schedule, for the most part. I get to eat whatever I want. And I didn't have to worry about a curfew. On paper, that sounded great. And I tend to think it is great… until I remembered how I ended up in my current living situation and the fact that I hated being at home alone.

I told the others I hated my apartment. And that was true to an extent – my previous home wasn't exactly a luxury penthouse, but even with the nostalgia filter aside, it might as well have been compared to my current home. But if I was to be completely honest with myself, a lot of negative feelings towards the place had less to the do with the place itself and more to do with who wasn't there.

Aunt May.

After The Spell, there were days I went to bed hoping that, when I wake up, everything would be back to normal and that everything that happened that led to The Spell would be nothing more than a bad dream. And when Aunt May would ask me about the bad dream, I'd tell her… eventually. We'd have our little talk and banter over breakfast before I head to school. I'd hang out with MJ and Ned, and we'd talk about what our plans for senior year would be, from prom, to senior pranks, to going out with a bang with The Academic Decathlon team. And then we'd all move to Boston – Cambridge, rather – and laugh about the articles and news wondering why Spider-Man relocated.

But that never happened. Every day, I'd wake up in my current apartment, and Aunt May wouldn't be there. Aunt May died, and there was nothing I could do about it. The impact of her death was twofold. It not only meant that I no longer had who was essentially my mother to turn to, it was also a constant reminder of how badly I screwed everything up.

It took me weeks to get to a point where I didn't have night and days like that. And even then, those came in streaks. My shortest streak was two days. My longest was two weeks.

I was currently on a ten day streak.

I was also inside of MJ's parents' apartment. I've been there a couple of times, but never for an extended amount of time. I don't even remember sitting in the living room. This wouldn't be the day either. I was sitting at the kitchen's island as Michelle put away our leftovers – she figured we could take it with us to our respective destinations in the morning so we could each have it for lunch later.

"So, before we go to bed, do you want anything to drink?" she asked as she closed the fridge. She turned around and looked at me. "I have water, juice, tea…"

"Do you have any Cocaine?" I jokingly inquired. She tilted her head and gave me a halfhearted glare. "But seriously, what kind of tea you have?"

"Um, let's see…" she turned and walked up to a cabinet and opened it. She eyed the boxes that were in there. "Other than the caffeinated stuff… I got chamomile, hibiscus, rooibos, and lemon balm."

I took a moment to think about it. "…I'll have the one that is your favorite."

"Rooibos it is." She grabbed the box and pulled it out of the cabinet. She opened it up and plucked out two sealed bags before she put the box back. After closing the cabinet, she laid the tea bags on the counter and grabbed the tea pot that was already on the stove. She walked over to the sink as lifted up the hinged lid of the pot and placed it under the faucet before she lifted up the faucet's handle. I watched her all throughout the process. This was new to me, seeing her make tea in person. Of course, I knew she liked tea, and I knew she knew how to make tea. Who doesn't? And yet, as she filled the kettle, I couldn't help but feel like seeing her doing this was important to me.

Of course, maybe it's because I'm such sap that I'm willing to cherish any post-Spell first I can get.

After the pot was filled, Michelle turned off the faucet and turned around, catching me staring. I felt my face warmed up as she furrowed up her eyebrows questioningly.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"No," I said. "It's just… this is the first time I've seen you make tea." I expected her to call me a loser or ask why that was a big deal. Instead she walked over to the stove as she spoke.

"I never made you tea before?"

I shook my head, even though she couldn't see it since she was placing the teapot on top of the stove and turning on the burner. "No. I mean, you have, but not in person. Honestly, this the first time I've actually sat down in your place."

"Really?" Michelle walked towards another cabinet and opened it. She pulled out two black mugs and walked back to where the teabags were. "So, prior to the spell, we've barely been to each other's home, I've seen you in your underwear, but you haven't seen me in mine, and the most we ever did, as far as intimacy goes, was some heavy first base action." She opened the teabags before she place one in each mug. "…I'm… I'm surprised we haven't gotten that far yet."

"We were still a newish couple by the time bombshell about my identity dropped," I explained. "…Also, I don't know if you know this, but I'm sort of a nervous wreck at times."

At that MJ chuckled. "Yeah, you are," she agreed. She sighed as she turned towards me. She had that expression on her face – that expression she always puts on when she was about to be open about what's on her mind. "…I'm still trying to get used to this, Peter – the fact that we're on unequal footing."

I tilted my head. "What do you mean?"

"It's just… because of The Spell, you know a lot more about me than I know about you. And while I know you said I can ask you anything – and I appreciate that – it doesn't change the fact you have these firsthand memories and experiences of our times together that I don't have anymore. I don't know what our growth from acquaintances to lovers was like. I don't know how we were as classmates or how it was like to meet your aunt. I don't even know how I felt about you when we first met. So…" She trailed off for a moment. "…Because of that, I'm worried that I might be competing with a version of myself that no longer exists." She paused for a moment. "That's how I've been feeling since we reunited." She frowned. "I'm sorry, I'm being stupid, I think."

"Everything, Em," I reminded her. "I want everything. And no, you're not being stupid. And even if you were, I think my past decisions give me little room to talk." I smiled. MJ gave me slight smile of her own. After a moment of enjoying that smile, I frowned. "I don't know if there's a way to get your memories back. And even if there was, I'm not looking for one. Knowing my luck, if we tried it, we'd end up summoning some cosmic giant that feeds on planets or something." At that, MJ laughed. I smiled a bit. That smile faded when I became completely serious. "…I'm always going to cherish the memories we had together before The Spell, and I wish you could cherish them with me. But at the same time, Em, I don't want you to think that I expect you or our relationship to be the same way it was pre-Spell. You had every reason not to even associate with me anymore after what I did, let alone go out with me again. But you allowed me to be a part of your life again. I can't ask for anything else." I then allowed myself to smile. "And… if it means anything… you still surprise me."

Michelle looked at me and gave me that lopsided smile of hers. "How so?"

I chuckled. "Well, for one, I never knew you know how to cook. And I never knew you were quite the singer. I think that's huge."

"Oh, shut up, you sap." MJ lowered her head. I knew she was blushing. She took in a breath before she lifted her face and smiled at me. "…Thank you." I smiled in response before I heard the whistling from the teapot. I saw the steam rising from the spout of it. "Well, let's have that tea." She turned and picked up the teapot by the handle after turning off the stove. She then walked over to the mugs and poured hot water into both them. After walking back to the stove and placing the teapot back on the stove, she walked back to the mugs, picked them, and walked over towards me. She placed a mug in front of me.

After she sat down, we waited for the tea to brew. During that time, we talked about how good the food was and how we're adding the joint to the list of food places we should come back to. Once a few minutes passed, we drank our tea in silence. During this, MJ reached over with her right hand and grabbed hold of my left hand. I blushed at the gesture. Slowly, I turned my hands in her and gently laced my fingers between hers. I kept my grip loose, allowing her to pull her hand away if she wanted to. But she didn't. She squeezed my hand gently before she relaxed it.

I decided I enjoy rooibos tea a lot.

After we were done, MJ took our mugs and placed them in the sink. She then took me by the hand and led me to her room. Once I was inside of it, I took everything in – her work desk with scattered papers and textbooks on it, the many books that I knew she read from cover to cover multiple times, the string of lights that hung around the room, the indoor plants… and her sketches that hung on the wall. This was the first time I was in her room. I've seen bits and pieces of it whenever we talked via video chat. Being in the room in person, however, felt like a huge deal. It was like I was being allowed inside of a place that MJ holds dear.

I guess I felt like I was the Lois Lane to Michelle's Superman, and this room felt like her fortress of solitude.

There was a sketch on the wall that caught my eye. I walked up to it and took a closer look. All of The American Idiots were in it. We were sitting on a bench at a bus stop that looked like it saw better days. Right next to the bus stop was a street sign that read "Boulevard of Broken Dreams".

"I sketched that after Betty added Craig and Kitty to our group chat," she said as she walked up to my side. I looked at her briefly, then back at the picture. "I was listening to Are We The Waiting on repeat while I was doing so."

I smiled as I looked over the picture. "We're one motley crew, aren't we?" I commented.

"We are… but I wouldn't have it any other way."

I turned my head towards her and smiled. "Neither would I."

MJ gave me a lopsided smile. She then walked over to her drawers. "I hate to disappoint you, but we won't be sleeping in our underwear tonight." I nodded, not even asking why. She opened up one of her drawers. "Do you think you need a shirt to sleep in?" She looked over her shoulder at me.

"No," I said as I shook my head. "I think my undershirt is enough." She nodded before she turned back, reached into the drawer, and pulled out a pair of dark blue shorts. She tossed them towards me, and I caught them with one hand. As she turned towards the drawer and went fishing for more clothes, I dropped the shorts on the ground before I started to carefully take my suit off. I made sure to carefully fold each item of clothing before I laid them on the floor in a neat pile. I kept doing this until I was in clad in nothing but my black boxers, a grey undershirt, and black socks. After that, I picked up the shorts and put them on. "I'm ready." I turned and looked at her. She was clad in black shorts and a blue sports bra. Come to think of it, I was pretty sure that those shorts used to be mine.

"…We really do fit each other's clothes," she mused with a smirk. There was a glint to her eyes. "I wonder if my thong would fit on you."

Despite my face heating up, I smiled slyly. "Is that your preferred style of undergarments?"

Now it was MJ's face heating up. But there was no hesitation in her response as her eyebrows rose briefly. "Wouldn't you like to know? Also, you don't seem opposed to wearing one."

"And you seem to want me in one so badly." I tilted my head. "Do you think it'd be funny, or do you just want to see my butt so badly?"

Michelle didn't reply at first. Instead, she walked up to me casually until there wasn't much in the way of space between us. She leaned over, put her mouth near my ear, and whispered. "A little of Column A, a little of Column B." After that, she placed a tender kiss on my cheek. There was a hitch in my breath as I felt my face get even hotter. She won this round, because there was nothing I could say to her after that. "Let's go to bed, Peter." She pulled away and smiled at me before she walked towards the bed and moved underneath the covers. I nodded dumbly before I joined her. "Lay on your side, Loser." I did just that. A moment later, I felt her head on top of mines and her arm around my body as she spooned me.

"You know, I didn't expect you to invite me to sleep in your bed with you," I said as I closed my eyes.

"I wasn't going to," Michelle replied in a whisper. "…But I saw how you were tonight. I didn't want to leave you alone." I took in a breath as I nodded. Would I have unraveled if I wasn't in MJ's room? Who knows? But I wasn't going to argue – mostly because I was sure that MJ's worries had quite a bit of merit, but also because I'd never pass up a chance to be in MJ's arms.

Yup, I'm a sap.

"Thank you, Em," I whispered out.

"It's like I told you in the park. You let me in. And now I'll take care of you."

After that it was silence as we both fell asleep.

I wish I could say that was the end of my night. In the world of the awake, it was. But my dreams had other ideas.

I was across the street from Happy's apartment. I don't know how I ended up there. All I knew was that I recognized the rubble and the flames from that night – the night Green Goblin took Aunt May away from me. I knew Aunt May was there. I looked on, feeling so many emotions as emergency vehicles arrived on the scene. I had this nightmare before. Each time, I'd run in, seeing if Aunt May had any sign of life. And each time, I'd find her body lifeless, in the same position I had to leave her when she died in real life.

This looked like it wasn't going to be any different. I felt myself unravel as tears fell down my face. It was a fool's errand every single time, and yet, as I wiped away my tears with my right forearm, I took a step forward and…

"Nope!"

Before I knew it, Michelle walked in out of nowhere. She walked right by me, grabbing my hand without stopping, and pulled me along. I tried to pull away, but her grip on me was ironclad.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked as I was dragged away.

"Away from here."