(A/N): For reference, this version of Mary Jane is based on Shailene Woddley's portrayal of the character, as she would have been imagined in the original cut of The Amazing Spider-Man 2 film. This is her reimagined in the Spider-Man movie universe. Enjoy!


Coequal

This woman… who was she? How do I know her? Where did she come from? Her hair is red, like MJ's, and beautiful, too… but still, who was she? Why do I feel like these dreams that I'm having feel like much more than dreams? These visions… why do I keep having them? And the other day, when I walked down Ember Avenue, she was there. Somehow. I keep trying to tell myself it was just someone who looked like her, easily. But it DID look just like her, though. Very much so. Her outfit. The jacket she swore, her boots, her jeans…

Who was she? Why do I feel like she's trying to find me… and how did she know my name used to be Peter?

An alert sounded from his phone. A text from Mary Jane. Coming back to his senses, Ben looked back from the window down to his phone. Okay, coming up now, it read. Good, he thought. At least that would comfort him a bit. Ben loved having her around.

Having only typed a third of his essay that was due before the weekend, the laptop sitting before Ben sat lifelessly, as though some higher force was trying to send him a message - That essay's not gonna type itself, you know? Trying to get it out of the way, the brunet viciously punched his fingers along the keyboard, creating mostly fluff for words along the way. It wouldn't be the first time he BS'd a paper. Truth was, he hated anything that wasn't science or math related when it came to writing papers. If only he'd been as talented of a writer as his Aunt May- or Aunt Martha (he forgets every now and then to stop calling her that) - except, he doesn't write in a daily journal, or diary, like she does. For some strange reason lately, each day feels less and less linear than the one that preceded it. Even if he did log his daily routines in a journal, some feeling inside told him that it'd be futile. His sense of time seemed a bit off, too. He failed to turn in last week's assignment on time, he forgot about him and MJ's date several days ago, and he woke up one night after a nap thinking he'd had a full night's rest, getting ready for class the next day and everything, only to realize that it was only eight in the afternoon. He could've sworn time was on his side. It felt as though Ben was starting to lose his sense of reality. Maybe switching to an art class like MJ joked wasn't so funny to think after all.

Speak of the devil, a binder slammed onto his table, distracting Ben momentarily, only for him to look up and see his lover striking a mischievous smile, with her red hair bangs split between both of her eyes as she took a seat. Typical of her.

"Workin' hard?" Mary Jane teased.

"Hardly," he returned. "Why is this the one paper that's due right before the weekend? I mean, most of these aren't due until at least Sunday before midnight."

"Well, maybe that's because if you get it done now, you won't have to worry over the weekend."

"Oh, you're on the professor's side now?"

"Just sayin'..."

"Well, I hear ya, but I don't."

The redhead chuckled and shook her head. Her straightforward demeanor is what drew Ben to Mary Jane in the first place. Her luck and charisma was unmatched, for sure. She had a zest for life that Ben wishes he had sometimes. He felt like he did, though, at some point. What changed?

"Is, uh, Aunt Martha still having us over for dinner?" MJ asked.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, still trying to type at the same time.

"Did you ask her to make those oatmeal raisin cookies I like?"

Ben made a grimace with a noise to accompany it, much to Mary Jane's playful offense.

"What?!" she scoffed with a smile. "They're the best!"

"I think you're the only person I know who actually likes oatmeal raisin cookies over chocolate chip."

"Okay, first of all, I never said I prefer them over chocolate chip, I just said that she makes the best oatmeal raisins I've ever tasted-

"Oooh, okay-" he teased.

"-And second, there's nothing wrong with liking oatmeal raisin over chocolate chip."

Ben made the funny grimace again. "Yeah, I think we need to reconsider our relationship…"

MJ playfully hit him on the chest. He gave a little snicker. Teasing each other basically made the relationship. Ben found it a wonder how they lasted this long. Thankfully, he still sort of kept his sense of humor. Though, regardless, he believed she felt happier than he did overall…

Unzipping her bag, Mary Jane pulled out a book titled Dream Psychology: Psychoanalysis for Beginners by Sigmund Freud, and stood it up on the table for Ben to see, waiting for a response. He took a look at it, and then to her.

"I know, it's a bit outdated," she admitted, reading his mind. "But, it's a start at least. It's something."

Ben looked down at the table seemingly in deep thought. To MJ, this seemed as a sign of disapproval.

"You don't look convinced," she stated.

"I didn't know you were serious," Ben said.

"About what?"

"This."

"I mean, yeah. If you don't wanna see a professional, like you said, then what harm is there in going out getting knowledge yourself?"

Ben knew she wasn't wrong.

"Just take a peek at it, at least," as she slid the book his way.

Finally, he gave a slight nod and took it himself. Looking at the cover, the words were simple and plain with the words "Dream Psychology" printed in bright orange font, and rest in a cold dark blue, placed over a pitch black background. Ironically, for such a book about dreams and imagination, the cover lacked much imagination to Ben's humor.

"All the stuff you've been saying, these visions, these people… they way they keep coming back, they've all gotta mean something," she said. What did Ben do to deserve a girl like Mary Jane? She really did care…

"I had another one," Ben spoke.

"Another dream?"

"Another person… it wasn't the redhead this time."

"Aaaand, you sure it wasn't me?" she lightly teased.

"Nah… it was a blonde." MJ raised a brow. Talking about his dreams to others was uncomfortable enough for Ben, but to discuss other women appearing in his dreams in front of his own girl took the cake. He continued, "She… We were in high school for some reason. The halls. By the locker. She came up to me… she looked concerned. She look worried about me, sad almost. Then she hugged me."

MJ's faced remained observant and sucked into the story. So he went on.

"And… she called me Peter."

Peter?, MJ thought. That, and the many other details she was compiling in her head based on how Ben described the dream made her want to snatch it back from him and look it up herself. She perhaps felt more eager than him to understand the root of the problem.

"Peter…" she repeated.

"And she's not the only one to call me that, in my dreams," Ben went on. "The other woman called me the same thing. The redhead." MJ was about to speak again, but he kept on. "These don't just feel like dreams, MJ. It's almost like they're 'memories'. From some time ago. I don't know when, but… it really feels like they happened."

"Like Deja Vu?"

Ben nodded. "Like Deja Vu. That's exactly what I was thinking. People say it's a real thing - up until this point, I never experienced it, at least I don't know if that's what this is. I mean, it's all been happening over the course of a few weeks - I'm still trying to figure it out myself, but-"

"Okay, okay, wait, so did you ever know a blonde in high school?"

He thought about it. Strangely enough, he could hardly remember high school. It wasn't that long ago. Why was it so hard to remember? Images of him being in school came to mind; the clothes he wore, the students passing by in the halls, the skateboard he rode around, some jock that used to pick on him… yet, he probably couldn't even name the high school he attended. Everything about the topic seemed like a big haze, as if none of it really happened. But of course it had to. He didn't want to admit that to MJ yet out of fear of sounding foolish, but that was getting off track.

"I don't know - I mean, there were plenty of blonde girls around, of course," Ben argued. "But I don't remember knowing one personally. Not her… I don't think."

It really didn't matter to Mary Jane if he dated someone else before her. It's not different than the men she used to date before him. That would be foolish to assume otherwise. Plus, he was smart and good-looking at that, so, what was she to think that he didn't see someone else before her?

"Okay, and then what?" MJ asked, getting back on track.

Ben tried to remember one by one. "And then… there was another point when we weren't at the school anymore. We were… at a clock tower or something. It was night. For some reason, I saw Spider-Man. It looked just like him. And… he tried to save her, but… he couldn't."

"She…" MJ started, about to guess the obvious.

"She fell to her death," he finished. "From the tower. He tried to save her… he tried to use his web to catch her… and it did… but… something about the fall… the momentum, broke her neck when it stopped."

For a dream, this all sounded very detailed to MJ. She's had her share of surreal dreams in her lifetime, but never any as interesting as others have described, and definitely none as lucid as and symbolic and Ben's. Goes to show how interesting her life actually was.

"But the crazy part is... I felt like I was looking from his perspective," Ben continued.

"His? You mean Spider-Man's?"

"Yeah. Like I was him... I let her die."

"I know, it all seems real when it's happening, I get why you feel guilty, but, you gotta remember it was just a dream."

"But what if it was real?" He protested. She wasn't registering. "MJ, what if I have repressed memories that I completely forgot about and they're just now starting to surface?"

"But how could you have repressed memories of being 'Spider-Man'?" she wondered, questioning its legitimacy.

She had a point. Ben had to think about it some more…

"Holy shit, are you Spider-Man?" she joked.

"No, I'm not-"

"I'm just kidding, just kidding," she laughed.

He shook his head and looked at her, trying not to give in to her humor.

"But, to be fair, if you were, I wouldn't have any complaints," she noted, giving her seductive charming smile.

"Oh, you've got a thing for him now, huh?"

"I'm just saying, like, he's not the worst guy to be compared to. IF you were him, that is."

"Well, trust me, I'm not him."

Do you believe that, though?, a voice taunted in the back of his mind.

Maybe not...