Disclaimer: I don't own anything in Marvel. I used to own a She-Hulk action figurine, but it has sadly disappeared like many things in my life.
Trigger: … I don't think there are any?
Warning: There is a mention of someone being drugged. If you'd prefer to avoid it, see you at the next chapter.
Navigating the Curve
By Juliette Lyst
Ce N'était Qu'un Rêve
At first, he wasn't aware that his teeth were clattering together… But then… Peter realized he was shivering, experiencing a fear he'd never felt before. He'd never seen his wife like this, almost incapacitated. He waited for Reed to reach them… but the older man seemed to be taking so long. Why can't he hurry?
The question Peter should have asked himself was, 'Why am I just standing here and waiting?' His feet felt as if they were rooted to the carpet.
Then… it felt like his mind was shutting down. He saw his hands and Reed in front of him, but he was unable to move.
When Reed did reach them, the blond frowned, feeling goosebumps rising on his skin. "What's happening?" He could clearly see the younger woman drooling heavily, saw the expression of shock on Peter's face. He waited a moment… but it couldn't be too long. It was of the utmost importance that this issue with Jennifer was resolved soon.
There was no way for them to know what was occurring—if Peter remained silent.
"Peter!" Reed yelled, stepping closer. He was not beyond resorting to violence if he had to—to snap the young hero back from wherever his thoughts had gone.
"Reed?" Johnny asked, having heard the ruckus. When he entered the room, he wasn't sure at all what to do.
Inhaling deeply through his nose, the scientist came to a decision after waiting another minute. "Johnny," as he spoke, he turned to his brother-in-law. "Take her out of Peter's arms and go to the lower levels. Medical lab."
The order seemed simple enough… until Johnny realized that Peter had managed to have a death grip on his wife—his fingers and arms locked in place—without harming her. "Ah… We have a problem."
"Need a hand?" Ben asked, joining the four of them.
Reed nodded.
Frowning, Ben stepped forward. "Sorry about this." He abruptly walked over to Peter and covered the webslinger's face.
At the same time, Johnny tried again and successfully go a hold of Jennifer.
Once Johnny got away, Ben penned Peter's arms in place along with holding on to his face. Now the young man was struggling to get away from him, but the orange man did not dare to let him go.
"To the Medlab!" Reed reminded the brunet. "I'll be down shortly."
Sue walked in, pulling her night robe's ties in place. "Peter?" she asked. "Wait… Ben!" the brunette raised her voice, directing her attention to him. "What are you doing to Peter?!"
"Sue…" Reed began, his voice sounding resigned. "I think… it's best if you go back to bed. This…" the blond gestured to Peter, "This is something we need to handle on our own."
"But Reed!"
Ben remained quiet, struggling to keep Peter still. He was still mostly in the dark about what had happened. If Reed's expression was anything to go by though? It wasn't anything good.
Taking a step closer to Peter, Reed looked to Ben. "You can uncover his face." He waited patiently as the other man nodded… moving his hand out of the way.
The face Peter help once he was uncovered was heartbreaking. "I'm going to lose her!" Peter cried, tears filling his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. "I'm going to lose both of them!"
"Peter!" Reed exclaimed, standing within half a foot of the younger man. "No, you won't!" He knew that exasperation was written on his face. "You need to tell us what you saw!"
Peter's sobs worsened, his knees giving out.
Ben quickly moved to keep the webcrawler upright.
"Peter," Sue spoke, walking up to him as well. "You won't be able to help her like this,"
Lifting his eyes to look at Sue, Peter struggled mightily to calm himself down.
Feeling relieved at that, Sue sighed. "We need your help," she continued. Seeing that he was no longer fighting and was trying to hold himself up, she softened her tone. "Something is wrong with your wife. Will you help us?"
Peter opened his mouth, licking dry lips. "I…" Swallowing hard and trembling, he sucked in a deep breath. "I will." As if he was emerging from a fog by way of sheer will alone, he blinked. "We need to—"
Main Universe
October 2 – 4AM
Hazel eyes blinked open slowly. At first Peter was confused. Hadn't he just… Then he realized he was lying on a soft surface. Clearing his throat, he scooted over… sitting on the side of the bed. His heart was pounding, as if he'd just run a marathon and had many more to go.
Wet hair stuck to his forehead. What was that? he asked himself, trying to regain his bearings. He was in bed… clad in only his boxers and was soaked from sweat. As his memory began to curiously float off like soap bubbles, he locked in on one thing.
Jennifer.
Jennifer was in trouble, and he was here!
Why was he in bed when his wife was downstairs and needed him?
Standing up and walking to his jeans—which were casually thrown on the floor, he was startled to hear a soft grunt behind him. In the darkness of the room, he wasn't sure who was there… but he felt instantaneous relief when he saw a form under the sheets. So… she's fine… Maybe it was a strange dream—like he'd experienced a few weeks ago?
He hoped that was the case. Dropping the jeans, he turned and walked back to the bed.
There was another grunt—followed by a deep yawn.
Peter was about to speak, when he was interrupted.
"What's wrong, Tiger?" a soft and very familiar voice asked.
Freezing in place, Peter rubbed his eyes. I… I didn't just hear… her… did I? Just what was going on?
As if in answer, the bedside lamp clicked on and the person who had shared the bed with Peter moments before came fully into view.
Peter's eyes widened. What… what did? "Mary Jane?" he asked, confused… then very afraid. Why was he here? What had he done? Oh Jenny… he moaned in his mind… the gravity of what he'd done sinking in…
"Yes, Peter," the redhead replied, lips pursed. "The same person you saw yesterday," she added. "And the day before and before that."
"But…" Peter shivered, goosebumps rising on his skin. "H—How?"
Reddish brows furrowed, an expression of concern on MJ's face. "What do you mean 'how?' Peter? I live here."
"Y…" His tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth.
Mary Jane frowned. "Peter, I live here. Remember?" Dismayed, she recognized the expression of confusion he wore. "We've talked about this before…" she spoke, her voice softening. Maybe this kind of approach will help? she wondered.
"No…" he replied, shaking his head. "How did I end up in your house?" And how am I going to explain this to my wife?! he mentally cried. The questions kept building… faster and faster.
How could he have done this?
What was wrong with him?
How… or where was he supposed to go—to get back home?
Husband of the year… he berated himself. Did the exact thing that the alternate version of me did! But… was he aware of his actions? I don't remember drinking anything…
"What do you mean?" MJ asked, unaware of his inner turmoil. "This is your house, Peter. Your family home."
His mouth opened but no sound came out. Abruptly turning away from the now very unfamiliar woman in bed, he walked straight out the bedroom door. As soon as he left the room, he swallowed, clenching his teeth. Just what is this?
"Remember?" MJ asked in the same low tone, walking up behind him. "The doctor said the dreams would ease up with time."
Peter whipped around to look at her. "Dreams?" he asked. He blinked once, twice… then looked down at his left hand—the bare digit striking a chord. He never removed his ring unless he was showering. "But…" He lifted his eyes to MJ's face.
"You've been having them for weeks, Peter." MJ reached out to touch his shoulder, wincing when he flinched away from her touch. "Peter…"
"Where is my wife?" he asked, not believing one word the redhaired woman said. He clearly remembered telling Mary Jane to leave him and his wife alone.
"Wife?" she asked, pouting a bit.
"Yes," Peter replied, his features hardening. He wasn't sure what MJ was trying, but he refused to fall for it. "I already told you; I'm married."
Mary Jane lifted a brow. "No," she replied. "We haven't gotten married yet, Peter." Her shoulders sagged when he turned away from her again, walking towards the kitchen.
"How…?" he asked, rounding a corner. It was his house! Or… at least it was a good mock-up of one. "How does this look so much like my old house?!"
Unease, Mary Jane followed him to the kitchen. "Because it is, Tiger." Her frown remained in place when he turned to look at her. "Your doctor told you that you needed to keep taking the medication to avoid any more hallucinations."
"Wait… hallucinations?" he asked. "You told me I was dreaming."
"Dreams. That's… a gentler way to put it," she replied. "But…" the redhead sighed, folding her arms. "What you've been going through… for months… We're not entirely sure what the cause is," She looked away from him for a brief moment. "And we're not sure how to stop it."
With each word, Peter felt his world slipping away from his grasp. No… It's not possible! "I don't believe you," he spoke in a low tone, shaking his head. There was no way he had imagined his wife… or his baby. Oh Chip… His eyes teared up suddenly, and he averted his gaze.
Irritated, MJ merely shrugged. "Whatever Peter," she replied, displeasure in her tone. "If you would stop skipping doses, you'd feel fine."
Peter's eyes narrowed. "I think I'll avoid drugging myself to avoid the truth, Mary Jane."
"If that's how you feel Peter," she spoke. "Then you can sleep on the couch." That said, she turned to walk back to the bedroom.
"I'd rather sleep in my own bed," the young hero replied. "With my wife."
"Again, there is no wife," the redhead tossed over her shoulder. "And if you weren't getting treatment for this 'condition' and I didn't know, you wouldn't have a marriage in the near future either."
Peter remained silent.
He hadn't planned on marrying her anyway.
Still… his bare ring finger spoke louder than anything else.
"No," he spoke in an undertone, his eyes still teary. "Our baby is not a figment of my imagination."
Walking to the couch, he laid down… having an empty and dreamless night.
6:45AM
Morning.
It was a time that he appreciated in the past… wasn't it?
But now…
Waking up, Peter rubbed his eyes with both palms and stood, walking to the bathroom. I need a shower… he mentally grumbled. Showers always had a way of making him feel better.
When the bathroom door opened abruptly, MJ stepped out and offered him a grin. "Morning, Tiger," she greeted him, her tone light. "How are you feeling?"
Not responding, Peter offered a tiny… yet obviously forced—smile and went into the bathroom. Making sure to lock the door behind himself, he walked over to the mirror and looked at his reflection
He felt… defeated. It's not possible… he thought, touching his reflection in the mirror. Right? Could I have dreamed up an entire life…? He watched as muscles in his jaw tightened.
No…
He could not have.
Peter watched his face crumple in the mirror, and he began to sob. Jenny! His fingernails attempted to dig into the counter… the skin reddening from the pressure of holding on so tightly.
This wasn't a joke.
His married life and the bliss he'd felt… despite the problems.
That was his real life.
Not this.
Sucking in a deep breath, Peter exhaled, staring sadly at his reflection. He almost wanted to punch the mirror… to see if he felt any pain. But… that would be foolish. Feeling his stomach growl, he lowered his head and practically stomped to the shower.
The next fifteen minutes was a flurry of movement as he showered quickly, started to see the body wash he used in the bathroom… along with his favorite color cloths and towels. … W—What? The razor he used was there on the side of the sink, along with what looked like his own toothbrush. How…? The young hero was beginning to fear the answer. Was MJ telling him the truth?
Towel around his waist, he returned to the bedroom… hesitating slightly before stepping through the threshold. In the light of day, he could see the clothing he typically wore.
Except…
There was no ring on the nightstand. Jen had different bottles of perfume, but since so many of them made her feel sick, she'd 'stolen' the cologne he used. She'd also started a 'stickies' memory notebook without letting him know at first. She saved each of the Post-Its Peter gave her in the notebook, along with tape to keep them in place.
She even dated them.
But… that notebook wasn't there.
Shoulders sagging, he resumed getting dressed. It couldn't have been a dream…
He dressed quickly and left the room as fast as possible. There was no point staying in there.
After leaving the room, he rubbed the back of his neck. What was he supposed to do now?
MJ peeked around the corner from inside the kitchen. "Hurry up, Tiger!" she exclaimed, looking harried. Her hair looked like she'd been through a wind tunnel. "We have to eat breakfast and get out of here!"
"What?" Peter asked, reluctantly joining her in the kitchen. Neatly picking up a plate, he served himself from what she'd prepared and grabbed a fork out of a counter drawer, pushing it closed with his hip.
It was thankfully quiet in there as they ate. MJ had taken a seat at the table and looked hurt that Peter wouldn't sit with her. "At some point…" she mumbled.
Once they were done, MJ got up from her seat and stepped over to one of the kitchen counters. "Peter…?" she spoke, addressing him. When he looked over, she handed the pill bottle that was sitting on the counter.
Brows furrowed in confusion; Peter went to read the label… his eyebrows climbing near his hairline when he saw his name printed on the bottle. "What is this?"
"Your medication, Peter," Mary Jane stated plainly, reminding him. She saw him roll his eyes and set the bottle back down on the counter. "Peter, the pills are important!"
"I'm not sure for what," he replied, refusing to relent even though MJ pouted at him.
"Maybe tomorrow, Tiger?" she asked. "For now, we need to leave."
"Leave?" he asked. "Leave to go where?"
She scowled. "To work, Peter." She scooped up a very familiar bag and handed it to him. "From what you were telling me two days ago," she lightly shook her head. "He's been on the warpath lately. It's best if you get there on time."
Frowning, Peter walked to the front door, jerking just a bit to see his old bicycle there. That's right… he remembered sadly. I brought nothing but my body, costume and wallet. Everything else he had acquired in the other universe had been entirely due to Jennifer's support… and honest hard work.
But mainly Jennifer's support. She provided him with a place to stay even though she wasn't very trusting of him at first.
"L—Later," Peter murmured sadly, unlocking the door with keys that he knew shouldn't have worked… unless they were really his. Grimacing a bit, he pulled on his helmet. Hopping on the bike, he pedaled to work.
Or what he was told was work.
One Hour Later…
Peter sighed internally, sitting in one of the many 'meetings' that JJ always seemed to require. Do we really need to do this? He hadn't enjoyed this… before.
"… so," Jameson continued, thankfully finishing up. "Does anyone have any questions?"
Everyone shook their heads in disagreement.
"Dismissed."
The sounds before and after the meeting were very different. Peter had easily heard the collective grumblings and groans of his coworkers as they trudged into the meeting room. Now, there was excited chatter as everyone moved as fast as humanly possible to escape the room. Peter got up to leave too when he heard his name.
"Parker," JJ began. "Hold on. I need to speak with you."
You have got to be kidding me… Technically his first day at work—and he was already having problems.
"Parker, I need you to bring in the coffee and donuts tomorrow," the older man stated. "Also…" Here, he leveled a glare at Peter. "I need fresh shots of the new museum that's about to open."
Numbly, Peter nodded. "Understood."
"Make sure you take good pictures," the older man stated. "I want decent lighting."
"I'll do my best, but I have to be careful, sir. Exposure to the flash could cause damage to the pieces stored in the museum."
Seeming to mull it over, Jameson nodded and sighed. "Fine, Parker. Get the best you can."
Peter nodded and turned to leave.
"And no blurry shots this time!"
Eyes narrowed; the young hero kept moving forward. He didn't like this… not at all. What is with him and sending me on jobs like these? He was never given the option to capture anything good. Instead, he was sent to the museum… in his old universe, he wouldn't have been surprised if JJ sent him to the zoo!
And now I have to bring in coffee and donuts tomorrow…
Something about that felt so familiar and unwelcome indeed.
11:46AM
Standing in line, Peter did his best not to fidget. Camera hanging from his neck, he held a notepad in one hand along with a pen. When he read about what sort of museum it was, he wanted to turn around and leave.
Who.
Would.
Ever.
Have.
Made.
This as a museum?!
"Welcome! We know you'll enjoy learning the history of gum!"
Peter ground his teeth together. A museum on the history… of chewing gum… He would have preferred it if his boss had spat on him. For a good five minutes. Instead… he was stuck having to suffer through an hour-long tour throughout the museum.
"Please don't go beyond the barriers that are in place," the guide stated, bringing the group in. "We'll be dividing you into smaller tour groups shortly."
Peter rubbed his forehead… wondering if he would develop lines in his forehead from frowning so much.
5:02PM
This evening would prove to be a quiet affair.
At least Peter was seated at the table, but he was slumped down in his seat and quietly twirling his fork on his plate, where there was still untouched food. He knew that the Chinese take-out they ordered was his favorite… but it tasted like nothing to him. He stopped eating after a few mouthfuls, setting his fork down after a few minutes.
"You need to eat something," Mary Jane spoke, scooping a bit more rice from the carton into her plate. "It won't help anyone if you starve yourself."
Sighing, Peter rested his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands.
Silently, MJ got up from the table and walked over to the fridge. "You at least need to drink something…" she spoke, glancing at him.
Peter was quiet, staring at the table and trying to focus on his breathing. How was he supposed to be able to eat, really? He missed his family terribly… and had a camera roll full of so many different types of gum. He didn't know so many existed… but the tour was still boring. While initially displaying enthusiasm, as the tour progressed, even their guide was looking worse for wear. No one looked happy to be there, and at the ending, everyone in the tour group actually gave out a loud sigh of relief.
Peter was one of them. Jameson better use these… he though in disgust. Otherwise, he just wasted a lot of my time. What was meant to be only an hour-long tour turned into four hours. And once he got to work, he had the honor of developing the film.
Or… he could do it at home.
But why waste his free personal time on stupid work assignments? He looked up when a glass of orange juice was set down in front of him. "I don't ne—"
"You might not have much of an appetite now," MJ interrupted him, seeing the uncertainty in his eyes. "But you need to at least drink something."
Half closing his eyes and nodding briefly in agreement, he accepted the beverage and drank it down. "You're right," he conceded.
MJ bit her bottom lip, watching him drink the juice. When he was done, she took the glass and moved to the sink. "I only want what's best for you, Tiger," she replied, washing the glass out. Thankfully, they chose paper plates and plastic cutlery tonight. "I'll put the rest of your food away, and you can come back to it later."
Peter lowered his eyes and nodded. "Thank you." Shoulders sagging again, he got out of the chair and walked towards the bedroom.
Mary Jane went about putting their food away, but she had a small smile in place. I hope he does eat later… She'd do her best to keep him happy. Her thoughts drifted just a little… and she wondered about what chances they had at having a happy marriage. Since he started having his 'episodes,' she'd put their engagement rings away.
When Peter walked out, he was clad in a pair of pajamas and had a pillow in his arms. "I think…" He paused, watching as MJ turned around. "I'll bunk down on the couch again tonight."
Keeping her countenance even, she nodded. "I understand," she spoke lightly. "If you want to eventually sleep in the bed, just let me know, alright?"
Blinking slowly, Peter nodded. He set the pillow down on the couch and laid down.
"Night Tiger," the redhead spoke to him, leaving to go into the bedroom.
October 5th – 8:45AM
"What do I do today?" Peter asked himself, standing at the window and looking at the dreary and overcast sky. He was clad in his pajama bottoms and socks, happy to have the day off. Dealing with Jameson on a regular basis was exhausting. He was still waiting to figure out what the editor-in-chief thought about the illustrious piece he wrote—on the many different types of chewing gum.
Because there were so very many… ball gum, ribbon gum, mastic gum, stick gum, tube gum, dragee gum, wrap gum, and tab gum. There was sugary and sugar free gum.
Jameson told him that he'd hear from him soon… and that he did excellent work. I wonder… did he say that to upset me more at a later date? He was also waiting for his next assignment.
Oh well.
Even though he had nothing at current, he would still receive his pay.
But today, he was free from that nonsense and wanted to go out and get fresh air.
Unfortunately, the skies above were warning him… it was not a good day to go out.
"Problem, Tiger?" MJ asked, walking up behind him. She rested a hand on his right shoulder, giving him an affectional squeeze and handed him a cup of tea.
Peter accepted it readily, swallowing some of it down while he continued to look at the clouds. "A small one," he replied. He felt so relaxed that he wanted to go back to sleep. "Might be rain," he gestured to the sky overhead. "Won't be able to go for a bike ride."
"Now who said you couldn't ride in a storm?" the redhead questioned.
Not expecting that, Peter's right brow shot up. "Really?" he asked. That was an intriguing concept. It was cool today, but not to an uncomfortable degree. He was always careful when he went for rides to be on the safer side. But… the suggestion of going for a ride in the rain…
Now that was an idea.
Fifteen minutes later, Peter was hurrying out the door with his bike, excitement on display all over his face. She was right. What was wrong with him going out for a nice and easy bike ride? Maybe she needs her own bike too…? Though MJ seemed very reluctant to ride… for reasons she didn't go into. "Her loss," he murmured, a soft smile in place.
The curtain moved just a bit as the redhead watched him go out for a ride. Maybe I should try to fit in a run? It was tempting for her to sink back under the covers… but no. "Why should Peter be the only one who goes out?" she asked aloud, rhetorically. Not much time passed before the redhead was also out the door, going for a run.
Further Ahead…
The ride felt so invigorating! It started to rain, as he had assumed it would—but he didn't care. There weren't many things that Peter could rightly state put him in a good mood lately. Why… he was uncertain. Something must have happened. What it was, he couldn't put his finger on it. He wanted to investigate it and figure out what the problem was… but he wasn't sure how he could. I know myself best of all…
But for some reason, this one little thing… it was tickling at the edges of his psyche.
What a strange little thing… he thought, squinting. Why can't I remember? He was becoming distracted and realized too late that he was heading into a massive mud puddle. "Wup—"
11:14AM
Yawning, Peter strolled out of the bathroom again. His impromptu 'mud bath' had not been appreciated. Not wanting to risk any problems, he decided to walk back home with the bike. His grin was rueful as he walked. It should have been simple to get clean.
But…
He was completely covered in mud.
Hiding the bike around the back of the house, he looked around carefully before he ripped off his shirt and muddy boots. The bit of grass he tracked through the front door was nothing when compared to the mess that he would have dragged into the house. It would have been a nightmare had the floor been caked with mud.
Before he climbed in the shower, he'd found—to his horror—that the mud had oozed into places it shouldn't have been able to reach.
Now feeling fresh, he went and got dressed in clean pants. He adjusted his jeans after pulling them up, hopping just a little to settle the material correctly. He paused afterwards, noticing something odd in the mirror.
His appearance was just a bit off.
A memory flashed in his mind's eye. An image of himself… but he didn't look like this.
When did I build myself up like this? He didn't remember doing anything to have developed so much upper body mass. Biting into his bottom lip, he lifted his left arm and made a fist. … When did…?
"Admiring yourself, Tiger?" Mary Jane asked from behind him. Unlike Peter, she didn't seem as surprised by his appearance, resting a hand on his bare shoulder. "There's no need to do that… you understand don't you?" She lightly squeezed. "You look fine."
His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Not at first. Placing both hands on the dresser, he leaned forward a bit, watching the play of muscle under his skin. "MJ…" he began, lifting his head to look at her in the reflective surface.
Red brows rising in question, the young woman tilted her head. "Yes?"
"Where did I go to get like this?" Straightening up, Peter turned to face her. Curiously… he watched as Mary Jane blanched.
"W… W—Why are you even asking?" Why is…
Peter remained quiet for a moment, but his face reflected the curiosity he felt over this. What is she not telling me?
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
"Peter…"
"I'm asking," he began. "Because my memories of myself are different than this."
MJ frowned in concern. "So… you're hallucinating again?" she asked, softening her voice.
Peter blinked. "What hallu—what are you talking about?"
Mary Jane shook her head. That was a mistake… she admitted to herself. If he forgot that he was hallucinating, she needed to make sure he didn't remember.
It was best for everyone involved.
"Nothing, Tiger," she replied, dismissively. "What do you remember about yourself?"
Peter again found himself unable to respond… Is this part of the thing that's been bothering me so much? "Never mind," he spoke, offering a faint smile. "Just wondering is all."
The problem seemed to lie with his memory, because there were just too many things that weren't adding up.
There were holes.
But…
Where did the holes come from?
And Mary Jane knew what was wrong… but wasn't being honest at all about it. Noticing how her features were more closed in than before, Peter made sure that he had a neutral expression. Stretching just a bit, his eyes half closed as he managed to successfully feign a yawn—he noted how MJ's eyes widened dramatically in response… before she quickly schooled her features.
"Now I have to figure out what else to do," he grumbled. Should I go back out for another bike ride? he asked himself.
"We could always watch a movie," Mary Jane suggested. "Or go out for lunch."
He pursed his lips in thought. Lunch out did sound awfully nice. "How about the movie first?" he asked. "Then lunch."
"You're on!" MJ replied.
It would be good to get away from… here for a bit. Peter moved to walk out the room.
"Ah… P—Peter?" Mary Jane flushed a bit when he turned to face her again.
"Is everything okay?" he asked.
"Tiger… you might want to put a shirt on," she continued, gesturing to his bare chest.
Looking down at himself, Peter's cheeks reddened. I completely forgot! Hurrying over to his dresser, he dug out a t-shirt and pulled it on.
11:55AM
"How do you forget to order the snacks?" MJ asked, having just returned from the bathroom before the movie started.
Peter scratched the back of his head. "Sorry."
"No… it's fine," the redhead replied. "I'll go get them for us. What do you want?"
"Tacos and a soda if they have it."
"Peter…" MJ began. "They likely do not have tacos. But… I'll check. What else do you want if they don't have them?"
"Oh…" deliberating briefly, the young hero decided. Though he truly hoped this was a movie theater that sold tacos. "Nachos and dip."
"What size soda?" MJ asked, pulling her wallet out of her purse before setting it on the seat right next to him.
"Medium."
"Be right back." As the redhead walked away to find the counter, she lightly pinched the bridge of his now. This… is not good, she thought. We have an appointment coming up… so we'll have to air this out soon enough. MJ knew the doctor wouldn't be happy to hear that Peter was still having these… episodes.
She also wondered why Peter would want to see a children's movie. That wasn't normal for him at all. More and more questions.
Fifteen minutes later, MJ was seated next to Peter as the opening credits rolled in.
It was… she realized.
One of their strangest days out.
Lunch was no better, with the redhead forced to wait as her fiancé studied the menu at the restaurant thoroughly while attempting to come to a decision. This is a burger place… she thought, blearily. Why is he having so much trouble with picking something?
Ten minutes… Ten.
And she was still waiting.
Even the waiter was starting to look a bit irritable. "If you wish," he spoke, addressing the red-haired woman. "I could bring you the basket of fries listed on the entrée list." And then get to my other customers…
Glancing to it briefly, MJ nodded. "I think that would be best." She was hungry.
Was Peter?
It took for the waiter to be gone five minutes after delivering their fries before Peter came to a decision.
"Are you ready, sir?" the waiter asked, having taken Mary Jane's order already.
"I'd like a split sandwich," Peter began, not noticing the confusion on the waiter's face. "Half cheesesteak and half meatball."
"Does…" the man's voice faltered when Peter looked at him. "Does that mean you want spaghetti and meatballs with a cheesesteak sandwich?" He wanted to be sure.
"No," Peter replied. "I'd like the cheesesteak sandwich with half of it being meatballs."
"Uhh," the waiter scribbled down the order, bewilderment on his face. "We can do that, yes." The cook is not going to be happy…. "Be back with your orders in a jiffy!" He hurried to the back to place the customer's order. We don't normally do this, but it should be fine.
Much as the waiter had feared, the cook glared after receiving the order. "I… see." After letting out a huge sigh and turned her attention back to the grill… frustrated over the effort it would take to not mix the two things up. Then again... maybe the customer wants the flavors to marry? "Strange combination." She murmured, using the kitchen scale to quickly measure out the ingredients before she cooked them. She had to do a bit of mental gymnastics to remember to halve everything.
"Thank you!" the waiter exclaimed, fleeing the kitchen.
Forty Minutes Later…
Why did I even bother? the redhead wondered, choosing to focus on her own food.
As Peter bit into the meatball section of the sandwich, an image came to his mind.
Instead of MJ, he saw a different woman, one with ebony locks… and seated next to him instead of across.
She was speaking, but he didn't understand.
He cut off part of his cheesesteak sub and handed it to her… becoming overly focused on his own hands as he cut off part of her meatball sub—taking it for himself. She didn't eat hers right away, seemingly bothered by something. Her eyes were just a bit glazed over.
He felt himself lightly nudge this woman in the shoulder.
Again, he watched her lips move… but heard no sound.
Then, she popped the bit of his sub sandwich in her mouth. Brown eyes widened, and she had the biggest smile on her face.
He was helpless to not return that wide grin with his own.
—eter?
Straightening up, he looked around.
—eter! Tiger, what's wrong?"
Shaking his head, Peter looked around. He was in the restaurant with Mary Jane. Abruptly, he looked his right side… but there was no one there. Also, his cheesesteak and meatball sandwich was only partly eaten. What?
"Peter,"
That got his attention, and he switched his attention to MJ. "Yes?" he asked
Instead of responding, MJ cupped her hands over her mouth, her eyes rolling skywards as she sucked in a deep breath—in a bid to calm herself down. After a moment, she curled her fingers down to frame her chin. "Peter…"
He frowned, concerned. He was also wondering where that other woman had gone.
"You—We—It—In a few days, we have an appointment."
His brows pinched together tightly. "Appointment?" Peter asked. The webslinger had a sneaking suspicion… that he wasn't going to like what she meant.
"Yes," she responded, nodding. "With your doctor. He wants to see how you're doing."
"Why?" the young hero queried. "Is there something wrong with me?"
MJ seemed to be struggling to find the right words to explain. Just how are you supposed to explain to your fiancé that he's receiving psychiatric help for his 'problem'? "He thinks so. So, you'll be going in for a check-up."
Letting the matter drop, Peter resumed eating. I must be pretty sick for her to be so troubled by it. I'll need to be extra nice tonight to make her feel better.
7:18pm
Peter was seated on the side of the bed, pulling his boots on. He'd already told MJ that he was going on patrol tonight and might be late.
She acquiesced to him, and told him his dinner would be waiting in the fridge.
Looking at his reflection as he pulled on his costume, the webswinger's eyes narrowed again as he observed how his costume fit. The pants were snug—true. Tighter than before, but the pants still fit. I must have built muscle there too… However, the costume top was a different story entirely. "If I rip this… I'll have to repair it. And trying to get the spandex and needles for it—" Peter words cut off abruptly, his mind wandering off again briefly.
He felt the faint smile that stretched across his lips as he looked at the different colors of spandex thread, focused primarily on the ones in purple.
Sucking a breath in sharply, Peter looked around in the empty room. "That… That was weird," he mumbled, heading to the bathroom for a moment. He stared at his face in the mirror… trying to find anything else that wasn't—what it should have been. Finding nothing, he struggled into his costume top.
A few minutes later, he was swinging from one building to the next. After the third, he crawled up and over the top of it, searching. This particular structure was near a park. There were places that had absolutely no light at all. Just the right environment for the wrong type of person, he thought. Noticing a park bench and streetlight nearby, he leapt off the roof.
For many people, jumping off the roof of a building meant certain death if not catastrophic injury.
For him?
Firing off his webs, he caught hold of the streetlight and pulled, completely changing the trajectory of his fall and flinging him towards the light post. Balancing perfectly on top of the curved metal surcface, he looked around again before hopping to the ground.
As lovely as a casual stroll through the park would have been, that wasn't on the agenda tonight. Instead, he kept low to the ground, stretching his legs out as he traveled. Finding a spot that was clear, with mainly concrete paths, he scaled one of the trees. Lowering into a crouch and tightening the muscles in his legs, he sprung from the tree top, landing in a tree thirty feet away. Peter did his best to have a quiet landing.
While he was balancing, hidden behind the leaves, his mind traveled again.
Heavy pants were audible in his own ears. He saw himself scale up the side of a building, narrow his focus and run. He wasn't sure what he was running for, but knew he needed to. He had to. "Have to… have to…" he grunted under his breath. Near one side of a roof, he stopped for a moment, surveying his surroundings. The area seemed wholly unfamiliar.
Peter's view narrowed more, and he crouched. In the past, he might have joked that he acted much like a cat about to pounce. Moving his hips side to side slightly and tightening muscles as he crouched, the young hero sprung forward, clearing a two laned street.
He landed solidly and kept running, leaping from one building to the next.
Finally… with sweat threatening to blind him and his muscles standing out in stark relief… he stood quietly observing the rooftop of some building. "Must… must… need… get there," he was telling himself. "Have to… must do…" Backing up a few feet, he was still able to see part of what was four lanes of cross traffic.
He jumped over two lanes, but this was a whole other creature.
Not taking much time to think about the risks, he sprinted forward. Lowering himself to his hands and feet near the edge of the roof, he launched himself towards the opposite rooftop. "Don't worry…" he mumbled. "I'm coming."
Peter realized, too late, that he had no plan or way to break his fall if he didn't land correctly. And he had thrown himself too fast going forward and not up in the air high enough. The young hero twisted his body midair to try to soften the landing. Seeing the stones of the rooftop getting close to his face, he was barely able to fling his legs forward.
This landing was one of the most violent he'd experienced in a long time. He slid across several of the stones on the roof, feeling sharp pain as they sliced into the skin of his back.
Managing to avoid gasping, Peter looked down. He hoped that nothing had happened. What was that? he wondered. Swallowing hard, he wondered how long his mind had been out on its own little jaunt. Not wanting to focus too much on that, he resumed patrolling.
He did the entire circuit of the park, finding everything to be in the clear.
October 6th – 1:13AM
Sweaty, sore but satisfied, Peter climbed back into the window he always left open for his patrols. This time, he'd lengthened the normal path he used to get home. To have some private time to think.
Yawning a bit after peeling off his mask and top, he walked to the kitchen. He found the plate MJ told him about before he left and decided to eat it cold. He had no patience for the 1-5 minutes needed to heat up the meal.
After eating, he collapsed on the couch and went to sleep.
His dreams were dreams of just darkness.
5:53AM
Feeling a bit grumpy, Peter turned off the shower. He had a few tasks today. One involved the hardware store. Being stuck with the job of bringing in donuts and coffee and only having a bicycle—those were recipes for disaster. If he were honest to himself… he wouldn't like bringing in these breakfast treats even if he had a car. This kind of thing should be voluntary. He was dressed less than twenty minutes later. Scribbling down a quick note to let MJ know he'd left; he buckled his helmet in place and went outside with the bicycle.
7:05AM
The young webslinger stepped through the front doors of 'the Bugle' with his prize… a dozen oversized donuts balanced with one hand and a tray of regular coffees balanced with the other. What was supposed to be a 'one day' thing… had transformed into a second part of his job.
… A part he wasn't even being paid for.
"Parker!" JJ exclaimed. "About time you showed up!"
Peter struggled to keep a straight face.
So far… he was the only other person there aside from his boss. Quietly, he placed the food items on his desk and left the meeting room. He was already having a draining day. He didn't need to deal with a sarcastic boss.
Moving to sit down at his desk, he rolled his eyes and pull open one of the drawers, dragging out his notepad and an elongated legal pad. He needed to have his recollections from the museum—unfortunately—remembered. The information was still fresh in mind.
Before long, Peter was receiving a tap on his shoulder. Looking up, his eyes widened to see MJ. Her red hair was sticking out at odd angles, and she was panting a bit. "Umm…"
"Y—You didn't get your breakfast!" Mary Jane explained, putting a brown paper bag and thermos on his desk.
Right on top of his work.
He would have found her actions irritating… if he wasn't already irritated with the man who gave him this ill-fated assignment. I wonder what fresh nightmare he's going to unleash on me today… "T—Thanks," Peter spoke, immediately digging in. He'd been up so early that he had no time to grab something to eat. He hadn't even taken a donut. "You're so thoughtful," the young man spoke around the bacon and egg sandwich. "I really appreciate it."
He was unaware that sating his hunger had not been the motivation for MJ's visit. Instead, she was extremely focused on him consuming all of his breakfast. She maintained a sweet smile, accepting the thermos back when he was done eating. "I'm glad you like it." Leaning over, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, "I'm heading back. I have a shoot at noon." Thank goodness he ate everything. That said, the redhead turned around and left the Bugle at a much slower pace.
None the wiser, Peter resumed working on his notes. A half hour later, he did notice that he'd forgotten something important.
Again.
What is this? he asked himself. He didn't have much time to ponder over that, as everyone was called in for an 'impromptu' but well-prepared meeting. He wondered if his boss had any idea what 'spontaneity' was.
Sadly, this meeting lasted longer than what everyone hoped for. But, at least they all got their new assignments.
Peter stared at the tagline for his report. Lifting his eyes to JJ, he actually opened his mouth and asked a question, "Really?"
Jameson smirked.
10AM
Sighing, Peter approached the building with his camera.
An older man came out to greet him. "Hello! Can I help you?"
"I'm Peter Parker," the younger man replied, showing his badge. "I'm from the Daily Bugle and came to take pictures of the… crime scene." He nearly choked on the last few words.
Looking solemn, the older man turned and led the way down a long hallway.
"So…" Peter began, as way of conversation. "When did you notice the theft had occurred?"
"As soon as I stepped in," he replied, clearing his throat. "They were in here," he explained after pulling one of the doors open.
Peter peeked in the room, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. "Umm…"
"Ten containers… stolen! I can't believe someone would do that!"
Nodding silently, Peter took pictures.
"It's set us back a few weeks," His frown deepened. "We don't have enough for the supply demands right now."
Peter nodded. "How many pounds would you say it was?"
"Five thousand, five hundred pounds."
"Uh…"
A half hour with a decent number of pictures, Peter left the premises. Bidding the old man well, he turned to where he'd chained his bicycle, hopped on and headed back to the 'Bugle.' He could already imagine the headline…
"MAN HEARTBROKEN AFTER 5,500 POUNDS OF PEANUT BUTTER STOLEN ALONG WITH ONE LOAF OF BREAD FROM A NEARBY BAKERY!"
Peter cringed… knowing that his name would be attached to the pictures. He photographed whatever he thought would be of use. The exterior of the building, the room where there were visible marks from the theft of the peanut butter barrels, what the inside of one of those massive barrels looked with the peanut butter inside. The owner also consented to the younger man taking photos of him too.
"He said he would do all he could to retrieve the peanut butter and expressed his deepest apologies for the disruption in the supply chain for his customers." If Peter heard him correctly, the older man had also posted a reward in the local paper for the safe return of the commodity.
The young hero was put off peanut butter… at least for a little while. Shivering just a bit, he continued on the ride.
4:06PM
Sitting on the couch, Peter stretched out his legs and picked up the remote, flipping through various channels. Frustration was etched into his features. He just had what was one of the most boring and annoying days he'd ever experienced at work.
"Who considers a peanut butter theft front page news?" he asked himself, rhetorically. "Wouldn't it make more sense to mention recent criminals brought to justice or official news?" Finding nothing that he wanted, Peter turned off the television and tossed the remote control. Instead… he turned to the radio.
What Mary Jane came home to a half hour later was Peter shirtless and clad only in his boxers… line dancing to opera on the radio. She stood there at the closed front door, debating if she should step back outside. It is obvious… she told herself. That I have worked hard to the point where I am seeing thing too. Rubbing her eyes didn't help. Nope, still doing it.
Peter did falter a bit when he saw MJ, but after a moment, he went right back to dancing. Movement helped him focus in ways that sitting around never could. I guess I prefer just… moving. Plus… the music wasn't bad. Just very strange—and he couldn't understand the language being used at all.
He was surprised when Mary Jane joined him.
The redhead grinned. If it was something that made him happy, why wouldn't she get involved?
Only one thing could put a damper on her mood.
Their appointment tomorrow.
As far as dates might have gone, this was one of the most entertaining "unplanned" dates they'd had in the last few days.
Peter was too busy being giddy at having a willing dancing partner that he didn't focus too much on the agitation he'd felt that week.
6:32PM
"That's so strange!" Mary Jane exclaimed; green eyes wide. She nearly dropped her fork.
"Agreed," Peter mumbled, stuffing more spaghetti in his mouth, splashing a bit of the sauce on his chest.
The two were seated at the table, sharing a pot of spaghetti and meatballs. A half loaf of garlic bread was to the side, and each had grabbed a piece.
"Peanut butter…" MJ repeated, twirling her fork in the pasta. She'd found his assignment and even their eating arrangement strange. Ordinarily, she would have served them from the stove, but Peter had suggested they just eat straight from the pot on the table.
"I'm still trying to understand why only one loaf of bread was stolen." The ratio didn't add up. Even if the thief or thieves threw their entire body in the peanut butter fully clothed, they would still have more peanut on their bodies than the bread could fit on its surface.
"Maybe… it was a giant loaf of bread?" MJ asked, reddening at the incredulous stare she was on the receiving end of. "Oh, come on, Peter! Don't act like you didn't wonder that yourself!"
"Hmm… Maybe?" he agreed, still eating. "What my main concern is… figuring out why I keep getting these stupid assignments." He wasn't going to mention his concern over the memory problems he seemed to be experiencing.
"There's more than one?" the redhead asked. Seeing Peter nod, she spoke up softly. "Can you… elaborate a bit?"
"My last assignment was to a museum. A museum that discussed different types of gum."
Mary Jane blinked, then rubbed the side of her ear. "That's odd, Tiger." Does he actually mean…
"There are many types of gum. I know that now. Honestly, I could have gone the rest of my life having never stepped in the building."
"Gum?"
Sighing, Peter scooted his chair back. "I'll be right back. Bathroom."
MJ nodded, offering a smile. "Sure. I'll have your tea ready when you get back."
"Thanks."
Mary Jane waited a moment, then peered around the corner to make sure that he was gone. Heating up the kettle took a few minutes. While she waited, she discretely dropped a pill into the tea cup. Once the water was boiled, she loaded the tea in a tea ball and dropped it into the tea cup along with the pill… covering them with hot water. The medication would—she knew—dissolve and be completely undetectable. I hope you forgive me, Tiger, she thought, sighing.
If only he voluntarily took the medication, there would be no need for her to do this.
Sure enough, Peter returned a few minutes later and gratefully accepted his tea.
Schooling her features, MJ sat down across from him, enjoying her own cup of tea. It didn't matter what she had to do at this point. Whether it was slipping the pills into his food or drink… she was determined to make sure he took his medication. Her eyes became heavily lidded.
No matter the cost, she would do it.
October 7th – 8:30AM
Peter yawned, stretching just a little. In the confines of the cab they were riding in, he could also move so far.
"Tired, Tiger?" MJ asked, a half-smile in place.
"Yeah," he replied, rubbing his eyes. "No clue why." I slept enough… he thought. At least, I should have had enough sleep.
"Maybe you can take a nap after we get back," she advised him. "It would help you feel better." Yet… the redhead knew why he was so fatigued. The doctor had told her recently that she could double his dose if his 'episodes' got too bad. He'd received a double dose just that morning to keep him calm, mixed in with his eggs and cheese. The side-effects—she knew—included fatigue… along with a whole other host of things.
They arrived at their destination quickly and MJ led Peter inside. She didn't try to take his hand, having noticed how he was starting to flinch at her touch again. She sincerely hoped that the effectiveness of the medication wasn't reducing. The doctor had told her of the way it could be ingested and what it could be mixed in.
Peter looked a bit disoriented along with tired… and it didn't improve when he went into see his doctor. After watching the man ask him a question, Peter sucked in a deep breath and sighed. "I have no clue."
The doctor squinted. "No clue of what, Mister Parker?"
"This conversation, what you are talking about. I'm not even sure why I need therapist to begin with!" the webslinger almost yelled, looking at his hands.
"It's only with your best interests in mind," the other man commented. "Don't worry. We're not here to cause you any harm." He was quiet for a moment, until he saw Peter gaze in his direction. "Have there been any problems you've noticed?"
"What do you mean?"
"Anything, Mister Parker. Anything at all causing you any issues?"
"Well…" Peter hesitated. Should he mention the memory problems? As he studied the therapist, something about the man rubbed him the wrong way. It was intense enough that he as shocked his spider senses weren't going off.
"Yes?" the man asked.
Peter noticed that MJ was looking intently at him as well.
"Just frustrated over my current assignment."
"That's all?"
Feeling even more concerned with gaps in his memory, Peter nodded.
"Alright," the older man said, sitting back in his seat a bit. He looked over some of his notes from previous sessions with Peter. "So… are you still having those strange dreams?"
"Dreams?" Peter asked.
"Yes. Seeing things?"
"He has," Mary Jane volunteered. The last time he did it, she was understandably upset. "It's sudden."
The therapist nodded lightly and looked at Peter. "Mister Parker," he began.
Peter unconsciously tensed his muscles.
"Can you tell me about what you saw?"
"Darkness," Peter replied. "Darkness and being underwater."
Noon
He lied.
How he managed to pull that off was anyone's guess.
Despite the dishonesty, he did learn something new. His 'therapist' revealed himself to be a psychiatrist who had prescribed him medication to treat these 'episodes' of hallucinations. Peter was handed a script and told to remain in compliance. The young man had kept a straight face throughout, promising he would take his medication.
The look he saw on MJ's face solidified what he was afraid to admit to himself. She knew…
His fiancée had been drugging him. It was a prescription medication—true.
But what was it supposed to do?
I have a lot to think about…
8:46PM
Things hadn't gotten any better by the time he had to go on patrol. He had dutifully taken his medication in front of MJ, but only to gain her trust. He just hoped that enough of his mind was left afterwards. I just need her to relax her guard…
Tonight's patrol had him stalking down alleys, this time upright and on foot. He trusted his spider senses to warn him if someone came up behind him. Maybe it'll be a quiet night…
A scream split that desire of his right down the middle.
"No! Please, no!"
Springing into action, Peter took off at a run down the alley, trying to follow the sound. As he rounded a corner, he came up short. What in…
Standing right in front of him was a woman… who was very tall.
And very green.
His mind went blank, pupils constricting.
"You're going to do your part, right?" she asked. She was at current holding a frightened man up in the air by the collar of his shirt. His hands were grasping at her wrists, but she didn't seem to mind at all.
"Y… Y—Yes," he wheezed.
Satisfied with his answer, the woman tossed the man away from her. "Don't do that again, ya creep!"
Hitting the ground with a grunt, the man scrambled to get to his feet and limped away.
With her back still to Peter, the woman looked down to her right, extending a hand. "Come on. It's safe."
Another woman was sprawled on the ground, her eyes wild. Her lipstick was smeared and her blouse ripped. She glanced in Peter's direction, the fear on her face ratcheting up.
Alerted, the tall woman quickly spun in that direction, ready to cause some serious damage to whoever was there. But… she pulled up short, resting her balled up fists at her side. "… Fancy seeing you here, Spider."
His mouth dropped open behind the mask.
Tilting her head, she waved a hand in front of his face. "Hello?"
Abruptly, he gasped, grasping at his throat and chest with both hands.
Alarmed, the green woman looked to the frightened woman behind her and to him.
Peter lost his balance, falling flat on his backside.
Sighing, but willing to take the risk, the green woman knelt down and reached out to pull off his mask. She was startled to see how dilated his pupils were. "Peter?" she asked, lowering her voice. "What's happened to you?"
He was running towards the opening of an old, dilapidated warehouse… but someone was walking towards him from inside. He took a few steps back, watching as she stepped out the front door, with an unconscious man slung over her shoulder.
"J—" he struggled, the name feeling familiar on his tongue. He just had to get it out.
Her mouth moved, but he had no clue what she was saying. He watched her lower the unconscious man to the ground and approach him. Her grin was just bit shaky, and she said something else before yanking him to her. He took in her smiling green eyes.
"J—" He felt it when she pulled his mask up and kissed him. She felt so warm and real and here… and safe.
"J…J—Jenny?" Peter asked, his muscles freezing in place.
Suddenly… sound was less of an issue.
"How are you handling all of this?" Jennifer asked, lowering her head. She was currently sitting in the half-full bathtub, as bare as the day she was born. She had on a black eye mask, held in place by a pair of black shades.
"If I'm honest Jen… I'm more concerned about you," he replied. He was holding a sudsy wash cloth and was soaping up her back. "Are you sure you don't feel sick?"
"I told you webhead," she replied, turning towards his voice and offering him a smile. "All I have is a headache. The glasses are helping."
"I… I need to wash your face at the sink. I'll have the lights off."
"Understood…" Pursing her lips, she turned her head towards the wall. "I'm so sorry about this."
The young hero continued to wash her back, working over to her muscular shoulders. "There's no need to apologize. Reed will be here soon… and we can get you back t—to…" he hesitated. How was he supposed to say it?
"The word you're looking for, Pete, is 'normal.' It's fine. I agree with you, because being the She-Hulk doesn't feel the best right now."
"J… J—Jen…" Peter whispered, his voice soft. "Please…" Thinking this was another 'hallucination,' he began to tear up. Figment of his imagination or not…he felt so much better seeing her. "Please, don't leave again."
"Uh…" Jennifer frowned, taking in his strained features. "No clue what happened to you, but I think you need a trip to Reed." Gently pulling his mask back into place, she reached down and lifted him up into her arms.
"P—Please…" he whimpered, clinging to her.
Frown in place, Jennifer turned, noticing the woman she'd helped was gone. Sighing as his hold on her tightened just a little, she started walking.
"What a cover this would make, huh?" Jen asked aloud. She could imagine the headline already…
"THE MASKED CRUSADER – RESCUED OR TAKEN HOSTAGE? NEWS ON CHANNEL 30."
To Be Continued…
Author's Note: Hello! So, I'm trying a sort of tried and partially true method. Instead of straining myself from the jump to get my chapters edited… then up, I'll upload, then print out and edit the chapters. Then, I'll go and edit and upload the edits.
It's probably more work. I'm too sleep deprived to know right now.
This is with the hope that I've edited properly while in the middle of writing.
Makes sense, right?
Right?!
As it is, I have chapter 26 and 27 to do that to. And now that I have a printer that actually prints on both sides, I can do that. Yes! Saving that paper!
I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I look forward to seeing you at the next one!
Oh… and it feels really good to be back! My physician told me to spend time writing, playing with my cats and hanging around my friends. We're currently working on improving my mental health because of a 'hiccup.'
… if only I could get the sleep hygiene in order.
XXO
~J. Lyst
Edits for the broken chapters will be up soon too. Please be patient as they are very long.
PS. Please don't kill me. (｡Ó﹏Ò｡)