Michelle "MJ" Jones

Peter wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep. Unlike him, it wasn't because of the fact that, once again, someone was targeting him. It's not that I don't care. Like I told Peter before, even if he was Superman, I'd worry a lot about him. Problem was that there was something else on my mind.

Every now and again, I was getting flashes in my head. They would be short little pictures of events that seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite recognize them. It was basically a feeling of déjà vu.

The first time it happened was when Peter and I were at Peter Pan right before we left to go on that not-date that totally was a date, even though I didn't want to admit it (fuck you, Betty). After I trolled him about his compliment before giving him one of my own… well, for a moment, Peter and I wasn't at Peter Pan anymore. We were at the Vinohrady Theatre in Prague. I was wearing the dress I was wearing that night, but Peter was there, dressed up. Of course, because of Peter, I knew that Peter was on that same trip I was before The Spell was cast, but that flash happened before Peter Parker told me, Ned, and Betty the truth. Because of that, I didn't think it was a big deal, especially since I didn't get another one of those image flashes for a long while.

Then the Valentine's Day dance happened.

While Brad was trying to make Peter look like a scumbag, I got an image of me and the rest of my class looking at Brad while we were at the train terminal in London. That was weird in and of itself. But then literally the day after, I get spooked by a version of me that was in the bathroom mirror. I wasn't stupid, and I wasn't a huge believer in coincidences. Something was up with me, and I didn't know who to talk to about it.

So why was I up?

Well, I was at my desk, drawing on my sketchpad. While I was drawing, I was wondering what all of this meant. Was I going crazy? Or was there another answer? I didn't know. I read a lot of books on a lot of different things, but I don't think there was a book on this. I was basically done with the sketch when Peter texted me. After I invited him over and he said he was on his way, I put the phone down, walked over to my door and locked it. I then walked back to my desk and looked down at the sketch.

It was me and Peter, standing on a street, surrounded by wrecked cars. And yet, we were looking happy because of the necklace he gave me – The Black Dahlia necklace that hung around my neck. I grabbed the broken pendent with my right hand as I grimaced. Peter told me about how he was trying to give me this necklace for a while during the trip, but was only able to give it to me after he battled Mysterio, and of course it got damaged during the conflict. I didn't mind it then. I still didn't mind it. I like things that are broken. But it still bothered me I didn't have firsthand memories of this. Seriously, fuck Doctor Strange and…

Wait… memory?

Before I could continue that train of thought, I heard a tap on my window. I smiled as I closed my sketchbook before I turned around. I walked to the window and parted the curtains. I saw Peter in his quick change outfit, waving at me through the window. Well, the whole thing with the mental images had to wait. I had a boyfriend to comfort. After I opened the window, I stepped aside, allowing him to crawl in. After he got in, I closed the window and locked it.

"Hey," he said as he stood up.

"Hey, you," I replied as I turned around. I watched him as he took off his mask. I looked him in the eye. Well, he was a bit red in the eyes, but he didn't look too tired. I smiled at him. "How was the trip over?" I walked over to him.

"It was quiet tonight," he whispered. "Did I wake you?"

I shook my head as I placed my hand on his cheek. "I was already up. I was just thinking."

"Something heavy on your mind?"

I smiled slightly. "Just school stuff." I didn't want to lie to him. Well, technically, I wasn't lying to him and…

Okay, I was lying to him. But I didn't want to. I just wasn't sure it was the right time to talk about it. I wasn't 100 percent sure what was going on with me, and I didn't want to worry The Loser with something else while he likely had another threat on the horizon. Like, I knew Scott and Craig each had a point. Losers troll on the internet all the time and, me personally, I could think of a million things I'd rather do than fight Spider-Man and/or the rest of the X-Men. But, as I say, expect disappointment. So while I didn't say anything, I was practically expecting Putin to roll into the city with squads of tanks to declare war on Peter.

Then again, seeing Spider-Man punch out Putin would be worth it.

Anyway, the point was, Peter didn't need that now. So, when Peter nodded and didn't say anything further, I was glad.

"Let's get some sleep, Loser," I said. I nodded my head towards the dresser. He nodded before he walked over to dresser and kneeled down. I went to bed first. I was already wearing blue pajama pants and a black tank top. After Peter got dressed in a pair of black shorts and his "Find X" t-shirt that I borrowed, he joined me. He snuggled up to me and laid his head on my shoulder. Almost automatically, I kissed his forehead, wrapped my arm around his shoulders, and ran my fingers through his head. Had this been years ago, I would have called someone crazy if they said I'd be quite the cuddle bug. But, there I was, holding my boyfriend, smiling as he moaned from me playing this hair.

I make myself sick.

No I don't.

My smile faded as I stared up the ceiling in thought.

"Hey, Peter?" I whispered.

"Yeah, Em?" he replied.

"So, remember during the dance when Brad tried to make you look like a scumbag?"

"Unfortunately. Why?"

"I'm just a bit curious. Did Brad try that before? I mean, before The Spell."

I heard him sigh. I felt him roll off of me. I looked at him as he rolled onto his side.

"Yeah, he did," Peter confirmed. "You know how my whole Europe trip was basically hijacked by SHIELD, right?" I nodded as I turned onto my side, facing him. "We stopped at this one rest stop. I had to meet with this one SHIELD agent, who was getting me fitted for a suit."

I smirked. "The Night Monkey Suit?"

He closed his eyes and scoffed. "Yes, that suit." He opened his eyes. "Anyway, when I was getting fitted, Brad snuck in and snapped a picture. It looked really bad out of context."

I raised an eyebrow. "How bad?"

He started to look sheepish. "From what I can understand, with the way the agent was dressed, it would have looked like I had a meeting… with a dominatrix."

I really, REALLY wanted to tease him about it. But I was just too curious about the stuff Brad did on the trip and how I responded. "I feel like I know the answer to this, but… did Brad ever have a chance with me?"

"Going by what you told me after the trip, not a single one." Peter smiled. "I was worried, though. I saw you having fun with him while watching a movie during the flight to Europe. There was the picture he would have shown If I didn't have Edith erase it off of his phone. I had to work with SHIELD, and deal with the whole Mysterio situation… I just thought everything was ruined. But, I guess I had nothing to worry about, since you basically killed Brad's hopes of you going out with him."

I raised my eyebrows. "Did I drop the hammer on him like I did at the dance?"

He shook his head. "No, not really. Ned told me all about it a few days later. But, while I was gone, and the people on the trip were on the move, Brad was pointing out how I was constantly disappearing. Before Ned could say anything, you let him know you got this. And then you called Brad out for taking pictures of people in the bathroom. Even Flash was on his case about it after you said that."

I smirked. "Oh really?"

"Yeah." Peter's smile became a bit wider. "I wish I was there when it happened. You even used a George Orwell quote, too." He furrowed his eyebrows in thought. "It was the one about the concept of truth fading out of the world, I think."

"…You don't say…"

I started thinking about that mental image I had back at the Valentine's Day dance. I started to wonder if that was a memory from before. Was what happened at dance a sort of repeat of what happened back in Europe?

"Em, are you okay?" Peter said.

I blinked. I was taken out of my thoughts. I took in a breath. I took in Peter's expression. He looked a bit worried. I wanted to tell him the truth. I almost did. But, I decided to just tell him a truth instead.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I replied. "I'm just… I'm just still wishing I had firsthand memories of everything." I then smiled slyly. "…Though, I have to ask you, Loser. Do you like having sessions with a dominatrix?" As expected, his eyes went wide. I continued to push. "Is that why you thought about me wearing your suit? Does the thought of me webbing you to the wall and having you at my mercy turn you on?"

"MJ!" He started to sputter. I chuckled before I pushed my hand against his shoulder, putting him on his back. I moved on top of him and brought my face towards his as I placed my hand on his cheek.

"Or do you prefer the classic leather outfit and whips and chains?" I felt his face go hot in my hand. I laughed before I placed a short kiss on his lips.

"I hate you," Peter whispered out halfheartedly before he gave me a small kiss of his own.

I scoffed. "You love me." I kissed him again.

"Always." This time, he was being sincere.

I smiled at him. "Ditto."

I placed another kiss against his lips. This time, it wasn't short. I kept on kissing him and my hands got busy as they rubbed his shoulders. He brought his hands on my back and moved them up and down. I moaned against his lips before I opened my mouth and brought my tongue out. A simple touch of his lips was all that was needed for him to open his mouth enough for me put my tongue inside of it. As he moved his tongue against mine, I grabbed his hair and pulled gently.

I was supposed to help him sleep, I thought to myself as I continued to kiss him. Oh well. He's not complaining and I'm definitely not complaining.

I didn't know how long we were making out for. I didn't even care. I let myself get lost in the kissing. But it started to reach the point that we needed to stop. The more I kissed him, the harder it was for me to fight off the urge to start something we were both not ready for. Even if we were ready for that, it still would've been a no-go. I had no protection and I knew Peter didn't have any either. Plus, even if we did, there was no way in hell I was going to have sex in my room while my parents were home, even if the door was locked. So, against my inner protests, I lifted my head, pulling my lips. I closed my eyes and took a moment to fix my breathing before I opened them and looked at Peter, who was staring at me slightly wide eyes and an open mouth as he tried to fix his own breathing. I gave him a smug smirk.

"What's on your mind, Loser?" I teased.

"…I, uh…" He closed his mouth and swallowed. "I plead the fifth.

I chuckled. "Same." I looked over the clock on my desk. I looked back at Peter. "It's midnight. Is your mind at ease now, or do we have to make out some more?"

"As much as I would love to spend the rest of the night making out with you, I have to admit that I'm okay now." He smiled. "Thank you, Em."

"Anytime, Loser," I whispered back. I placed one last kiss on his forehead before I rolled off of him and onto my back. I looked over at him. "Now come on. Let's go to sleep already." He nodded before he rolled over and placed his head on my shoulder. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. "Good night, Peter."

"Goodnight, MJ."

I closed my eyes and went to sleep a few minutes later.

The morning after, I woke up to my alarm before I shook Peter awake. After he got dressed in his quick-change costume, we shared a quick kiss before he was out of the window. I closed the window behind him and closed the curtains. I then turned around and leaned back against the window. With him gone, I was already thinking about the mental images I've been getting, and the conversation we had from the night before made me about 80 percent sure that those flashes were pre-Spell memories. So what did it all mean? Did it mean The Spell wasn't all the way successful? Did it mean that I have some resistance to magic? Did it mean that I was going to get my memories back? I sighed as I bowed my head.

"What can I even do?" I whispered to myself. The only idea I had was to visit Doctor Strange. I didn't want to talk to him at all, though. I was still pissed off at him over what led to The Spell in the first place, and I wasn't sure that I wouldn't spend the beginning of the conversation yelling at him for at least ten minutes straight. The problem was that I didn't know who else to turn to. I pouted. "Why couldn't I just be a student Hogwarts or something? At least then I'd have several options." I started to walk towards the door of my room. "But no. I end up befriending multiple superheroes, a billionaire, and both her daughter and her bodyguard, the only magic user I know is someone I want to kick in the dick." I huffed out a breath as I unlocked the door and opened it. "That is some bullshit."