Michelle "MJ" Jones

The next day, I was eating lunch on the roof of Midtown with Ned. As we sat next to each other, he told me about how Peter and Betty were going to be working at the Daily Bugle on Wednesday night because of Kraven being a guest on the show.

"Why haven't they quit that job yet?" I muttered before I took a bite out of my sandwich.

Ned gave me a glare. "You urged Peter to take the job," he pointed out.

After I chewed in swallowed, I frowned. "I know, and I wish I didn't. I'm afraid that one of these days Peter will snap and put Jonah through a table."

"Would that be a bad thing?"

"Yes… unfortunately." Ned chuckled. I shook my head. "Honestly, couldn't he just be a wedding photographer or something?" I then scoffed. "You know what? Never mind. Peter, being Peter, would have to bail because he'd coincidentally book a photo session on a day some giant monster attacks or something."

Ned nodded. "You're not wrong."

"I'm usually not."

We went quiet for a moment. As I ate, I saw Ned glance at me a few times. Something told me he had something to ask me.

"MJ… are you okay?"

See?

"I am," I replied. "Why do you ask?" I already knew the answer.

"It's just… you know… what you told everyone in that text… it's some pretty heavy stuff."

I shrugged. "I guess." I was downplaying it, and I was sure Ned knew it. I sighed. There was no point in hiding it. "It's a lot."

"How's Peter taking it?"

I pressed my lips together. "He pretty much told me to not worry about his feelings when I make a decision."

Ned nodded slowly. "And what do you want?"

"I'm not sure what I want." I stood up and walked away a few steps. "Honestly, it's frustrating. It's like… my life's been majorly impacted by decisions I had no say in for a while. It was already bad enough when I got blipped. But this…?" I shook my head. "I didn't ask for my memories to be altered. I didn't ask for a piece of my subconscious to be turned into a mini-universe. I didn't ask for a form of my pre-Spell self to be living in that universe. And now that I have control… full control over what happens in my life again, it happens during a time where I basically have someone else's life in my hands." I turned back towards Ned. "I feel like shit got broken and I'm left to pick up the pieces."

"Well… you're not wrong," Ned commented in agreement. "It's a pretty shitty situation."

I scoffed. "Tell me about it," I replied. I sighed. "…Would I be wrong to take up Clea's offer?"

Ned shook his head. "I don't think you would. I mean… I like how things are. Granted, I can do without our lives being impacted by villains with a Stark vendetta. But, I like the friends we made and the dynamic we made for ourselves." He frowned. "That said, I think everyone would agree that this is your decision to make. No one else's happiness should make you feel one way or another about it."

I smiled slightly. I was no closer to deciding what I wanted to do, but there was a small part of me that was glad that Ned understood and wasn't going to pressure me into making a decision for everyone else's benefit. With assurance from Peter and Ned, I felt a bit more free about figuring what I wanted to do.

The rest of the day went by as normal. I went through classes, I went to work, and I went to training with Colleen Wing. During that training, Colleen figured something was up with me. She said my Chi was off.

Was it that obvious?

When I got home, my dad was in the living room.

"Hey sweetheart," he greeted. "Your mom has to work late tonight."

I smirked. "Let me guess, pizza for dinner?" I asked.

He glared at me. "Give me a little credit Michelle. I actually cooked. I made chopped cheeses."

My smile faded and my eyes narrowed. "What's the occasion?"

My dad shook his head. "No occasion. I just know you been busting your ass with this whole martial arts thing, so I figured you'd appreciate a protein-packed meal."

My eyes returned to normal. I was actually a bit caught off guard and touched. Normally this would be something my mom would do. But, every now and again, my dad would surprise me. After a few moments, I smiled. "I would, thanks."

Moments later, my dad and I were eating at the dinner table. I had to say, the chopped cheese was very good. The bread was toasted, the chopped up beef patties were seasoned, the cheese was melty, and the cooked onions and peppers were a nice touch.

"So, how was school?" my dad asked.

"Same old, same old," I replied. "I'm doing well, but I'm looking forward to Spring Break."

My dad chuckled. "Break from school is always welcomed. When I was in school, I looked forward to days off heavily. But, half the time my teachers would ruin it."

I raised my eyebrow. "How?"

"By assigning homework. Like, I remember one time this teacher assigned a major project to be due the MONDAY after Spring Break."

I blinked a couple times. "Now that just sounds cruel."

"That's because it was. I found out the next year that he did it because his daughter was in one of his classes. Apparently, she was supposed to go on a trip with her boyfriend and his family, which her mom agreed to if as long as she wasn't assigned any homework. So, he assigned everyone taking American Literature a project – a book report on A Separate Peace. I know I don't read as much as you and your mom, but I do enjoy a good book every now again. That book, though? I have to say, that has to be one of the worst books ever written."

I nodded. "No argument here."

"So, as you can imagine, I wasn't too thrilled about having to do a book report during Spring Break, especially on a book I don't like. I was even less thrilled when I came back to school and heard all my friends talk about how they got to spend their Spring Break playing video games or going out of town to places like Disney World or Cedar Point. Needless to say, Mr. Cromwell was one of my least favorite teachers, even to this day."

I laughed. "I can't say I blame you."

We went quiet for a bit as we continued to eat. After some moments, my father spoke again.

"So, speaking of boyfriends… how are you and Peter doing?" he asked.

"We're doing okay," I said almost automatically.

He raised his eyebrow at me. "Just okay? It seemed like things are going great for y'all, if them pictures were anything to go off of."

I frowned and shrugged. "We just have some things to work through, it's all."

My father gave me a look. "He didn't cheat on you, did he?"

"If he did, I'd be calling you from jail to ask for bail money and Matt Murdock." I shook my head. "No. Peter would never. He's loyal. It's just, unfortunately, he has to deal with some stuff from his past, and it's kind of putting a damper on things."

Surprisingly, my father simply nodded. "Well, as long as he's not taking his issues out on you…"

"Like I said before, Peter's not the type." I wanted to change the subject completely. However, my parents' relationship came to mind. Peter and I… we never went through what my parents went through. But, considering the magnitude of what they went through, I figured I could pick my dad's brain. "…Hey, dad… can I ask you a question?"

He tilted his head. "Of course, sweetheart."

I swallowed. "…You and mom…you guys went through a very rough patch. How did you guys get through it?"

My dad didn't answer at first. He took a bite out of his sandwich and chewed for a bit. I could see the gears in his head. After some moments, he swallowed before he looked back at me.

"The Blip happened," he began. He sighed. "I… I don't want to make light of it or anything… but, that dark cloud had a bit of a silver lining to it. See, for a while, your mom and I were focused on divorce. Things were getting real nasty. Each of us was pointing the finger at each other while pretending our shit was roses, you know? And then The Blip happened. Turns out, each of our lawyers got dusted. Your mom and I talked only for a little bit, and mostly because of what happened to you. I was devastated. I thought I lost you forever. I didn't leave my apartment for a whole month, and didn't return to my job until a month after that. I was surprised I wasn't fired when I showed up, but my boss was very understanding. I guess you kind of have to be when half the world gets dusted away.

"So I was working a somewhat light schedule. I worked four days out of the week. When I wasn't working, I was at home, alone with my thoughts. Slowly, but surely, I was letting go of my resentment towards your mother – not necessarily because I wanted to, but because I didn't have the energy for it. It wasn't going to bring you back. And without judgment being clouded by my resentment and frustration over constant negotiations that just angered your mom and I even more, I was actually able to look at the situation objectively and realize that I was part of the problem. I ended up talking to your mom eventually, and she came to the same conclusion about herself. So, we worked on things from there."

He smiled at me. "Sometimes, the best way to figure out a situation is to spend time away from it. It turned out a break from each other was just what your mom and I needed to turn things around."

Those words stuck with me for the rest of the night.

Later on, I was in bed, looking up at the ceiling. I was thinking about everything. I was trying to be optimistic. I figured the best case scenario is that, when it was all said and done, Peter and I would just have to take a break from each other – not a break up, not a Rachel from Friends type of break, but a period where we could just regroup and reassess things. Of course, there was also the possibility of a complete break-up and no, no, no, I refused to think about that. Or at least I tried not to. But, as usual, I expected disappointment. Still, I refused to be completely pessimistic.

With that aside, it became a question about if taking Clea's offer was the right thing to do. And, honestly, I couldn't see how it wasn't. I wasn't going to act like I didn't want my memories back, because there was a part of me that wanted my memories back since the day Peter told me the truth. But even if I didn't want my memories back, there was no way I could go on about my life normally while knowing there was essentially another person trapped inside of me against their will, even if that person was technically a part of me. Even if I was so heartless, there was no doubt I'd just be haunted by Mirror MJ until I take Clea's offer for the sake of my sanity.

I'd haunt me in that situation.

I took in a breath, reached over for my phone, and grabbed it. I brought the phone in front of my face and went through my contacts. I brought up Peter's name. I thought about just texting him, but I then decided to call him. He needed to hear this. After a few rings, he picked up.

"Hey MJ," he greeted.

"Hey Loser," I replied. "Ready for tomorrow?"

"I'd much rather pull my teeth out with a pair of pliers."

I chuckled. "It does sound less painful."

"So how was your day?"

"It was okay. I just did the usual." I went quiet for a bit. "Hey Peter, I made a decision. I think I'm going to take Clea up on her offer."

"I figured you would." He said it in a certain tone. He didn't sound upset. He didn't sound happy either. If anything, he sounded… resigned. "…I'll be ready when it happens."

"It won't be for a while, Peter. I'm going to wait until Kraven is out of the picture. I figured it'd be best to deal with whatever happens after I get my memories back when we're not dealing with another crazed psycho."

"You sure? I think crazed psychos help build character."

I scoffed. "You must be full of character, then."

"A lot more than I know what to do with, believe me."

I chuckled. I then sighed. "This won't be the end of the world. You know that, right?"

"I do, I do. It's just… It's just… I don't know, to be honest. I guess I'm worried that… I guess I'm afraid of…"

"I get it, I do," I interrupted gently. "I do. But, I think I'm doing the right thing, and,sometimes, the right thing to do is not going to be the easiest thing, you know?"

"You almost sound like Scott."

I smiled. "Well, we're both usually right."

That actually got Peter to laugh. "Does that mean you'll start walking around with a pair of red shades on?"

I scoffed. "You know I'd make them look good."

"You'd make anything look good, no matter the location."

"While I appreciate the compliment, I'm still not getting freaky with you at Peter Pan while wearing the uniform."

At that, Peter gasped. "Damn it, plan foiled!"

At that, we both laughed. While the exchange was funny to me, I was just happy to find some levity in this fucked up situation, and I knew Peter felt the same way. After a while, our laughter died down. For some seconds, there was a silence that was a bit… somber. I then heard Peter breathe in.

"So, um… I'm going to be honest with you," he began. "If I had all of my powers back, I'd ask if I could swing by."

I made a noncommittal sound. "It's a shame, really," I replied. "I'd tell you yes. Maybe I'd get to ruin you like I said I would back in Palm Springs." Peter groaned. I smirked. "If only I had powers so I could make the trip to your place in record time. But, then again, the superhero thing is not appealing to me."

"Are you sure? According to Ned, you were really killing it underneath the mask and wig for a bit."

"That is only a one-time thing, though I guess it was pretty cool to call myself Silk."

"Silk…" Peter trailed off for a moment. "I guess it works."

I rolled my eyes. "What would you call me if I was a hero with your powers?"

"I don't know… Spinneret?"

"…Ummmm…"

"Oh, come on! It sounds cool."

"It does, until you realize a spinneret is on the butt of a spider."

"I mean… at least it's not the anus of the spider."

"Still, I don't want people to think that I pull webbing out of my ass."

"But calling yourself Silk would avoid that problem?" I paused for a moment. I then glared, even though I knew Peter couldn't see it. Not that it mattered, though. "You're glaring at me hard, aren't you?"

"…Listen here, you little bitch…"

Peter and I continued to bicker back and forth playfully. We then spoke about thirty minutes more, talking about different topics at random, from Craig's growing hatred for a comic book run to our respective martial arts training. All the while, I almost forgot about what was weighing on me – almost. It was still there in background. But, even if it was just for a little bit, it was just background noise.