Michelle "MJ" Jones

When I woke up from my nap, I felt a bit refreshed. I gently scooted away from Peter and looked at him. He was still napping, his head leaning a bit back. I smiled in amusement, which kind of surprised me. I guess me and Peter no longer on being on each other's shit list was one less thing to worry about. Peter and I weren't quite out of the woods yet. We still had to deal with Beck and likely Liz – I guess there was a small part of me that was wishing and hoping I was wrong about her being Firestar. But, despite that, I was no longer feeling like the sky was falling.

Maybe it was just the relief talking.

I pulled out my phone and checked for messages and missed calls. I didn't have any missed calls or messages from my parents. But I did have a message from Betty. After checking it, I muttered the words of the message as I read it.

"'I got the names from Pepper. I'm going to drop it off to Uncle Erik in the morning'." I smiled slightly. I then responded.

"Thanks, keep me posted."

After sending the message, I put the phone back in my pocket and turned towards Peter. He was still sleeping. I shook my head. "Still napping, huh?" I tilted my head briefly. "I can't say I blame you." I brought my hand on his shoulder. "I have to wake you up, though." I gently shook him. Within seconds, he was waking up. While his eyes were closed, his eyebrows were furrowed up and his lips were frowning as he groaned.

"A few more minutes," he whined.

"We have to get this done," I said. He opened his eyes and looked at me as he pouted. "Don't give me that look, Peter. We dragged our feet on this long enough."

Peter grumbled in defeat. "I guess." I shoved him playfully. He chuckled before he sighed. "Okay, let's do this."

We moved deeper into The Bunker where the gear and the Fabricator was located. I looked at the case where The Black Dahlia Suit stood. Actually, no, it was slumped amongst it pieces. I raised my eyebrows.

"What the hell happened to it?" I asked, taking in the state it was in. Surprise wasn't even the word for how I felt. I've seen videos of Peter wearing this suit and taking a whole lot of punishment. To see it damaged this much was something I never thought I'd see… which was odd, considering that I'm always thinking about the worst-case scenario.

"Kraven happened," Peter explained. I looked at him. He was staring at the suit. "…After we rescued Kaine – and Mikhail – we ended up running into Kraven, Calypso, and a bunch of other agents. Justin Hammer was there." He gave me a sideways look. "Justin Hammer is always there." He looked back at the suit. "Hammer tried to convince us to work with the government again. Kitty declined – rather colorfully. Calypso tried to make a move after Hammer drove off, but Carmilla put a bullet through her shoulder. That set things off. I punted Kraven as he checked on Calypso. I was kicking his ass at first, but then he turned the tables real quick. He headbutted me, and the mask shattered. Pieces of it were cutting into my face. I tried to retaliate, but with his bare hands, he was beating me down and breaking my suit. It got so bad that I sent Edith away to Frictor's helmet for her sake. I tried to web him down, but he grabbed my wrists and crushed my shooters like they were made out of aluminum foil."

My mouth was ajar as I listened to him. "…Shit." I tilted my head. "But you beat him, didn't you?" Peter nodded as he looked at me. "How did you do it? Did you find some weakness of his or something?"

Peter scoffed. "I wish."

"Did he tire himself out?"

"No. If anything, he looked like he could have beaten me down all night."

I shook my head. "So how did you win? Did you get some super mode like an anime character?" Peter went silent. My eyes went wide. "…What?"

"…It's a long story," Peter said sheepishly.

I glared at him. "Peter, all we've done today so far is tell each other long stories," I pointed out. "What's one more?"

Peter tilted his head briefly. "Good point." He took in a breath. "So, um… remember when he had that shared dream?"

I nodded. "I do."

"And remember when, in that dream, I told you about how I got my powers and how, while I was in the hospital, I was having fever dreams about this huge spider that said it has plans for me?"

"…Yes, and yes."

"Well, that spider was a lot more real than I thought. When I got captured by Calypso and I was sleeping, that spider showed up in my dream. Thing is, though, the spider wasn't a spider. It was this woman. Apparently, that was a form that spider was taking. She called herself Ero and said I needed to evolve and stop playing human. Before I woke up in the house after you guys rescued me, she said to call her name when the time is right. Fast forward to the fight, while I was on ground, I heard her voice in my head. She said to say her name. And I did. All of a sudden, I became this giant… were-spider. I had fangs around my mouth, six more eyes, four spider legs coming out of my back, and these spinnerets on my wrists. I even had these stingers on my wrists, too. I didn't know what I became, but there was nothing Kraven could do to beat me at that point. I brutalized him badly. I broke his jaw and his knees and stabbed him straight into his liver. I ripped some skin off of his chest, leaving a handprint. I then webbed him up, but not before telling him that Tony Stark would of have killed him easily. After I explained everything to the others – after things were handled – Kitty ordered me to not use that form. So, I haven't tried using it since. It's probably for the best."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"I kind of lost control and went on a rampage. I barely remember any of it, but…" He trailed off. "I wasn't trying to kill anyone, but I also wasn't trying NOT to kill anyone. And when Shadowcat was treating Calypso gunshot wound, Joanna and Kaine had to hold me back. I didn't know what I would have done to Calypso if they haven't."

I nodded in understanding. Peter was nothing if he wasn't careful about how he used his powers. Even nowadays, when he's been a lot more brutal, he never killed anyone. But, then again, considering how high hospital bills could get, maybe he might as well.

"Do you think you'll ever use that form again?" I asked.

Peter shrugged. "I don't know," he replied. "I'd rather not, but if push comes to shove…"

I nodded once more. "Okay." I took in a breath. "Let's get to work."

We went about rebuilding the suit. During the rebuild, we decided to add a few features I found after digging into the several blueprints of Tony Stark's suits. I was a bit impressed by how much each suit varied in function. I had mixed feelings about Stark. While I respected him as a hero, I did not respect how he recruited Peter and what he recruited him for. With that said, and being the ever paranoid person that I am, I can appreciate the effort in trying to be prepared for all kind of situations, scenarios, and the like. It came very handy when I found a blueprint for an armor made for space travel. Integrated within it was a liquid cooling and ventilation garment – basically like the kind astronauts use, except a lot more advanced – and an emergency fire retardant dispersal system that was present in most of his other suits. So we added that in. As we continued to make tweaks and additions, Peter and I talked about his last fight with Firestar.

"I thought I was getting the upper hand," Peter explained as we looked over the holographic projection of the Black Dahlia's blueprint. "Then she raised her hand up. She didn't even blow fire or anything. But a second later, I felt like there was this fire just underneath my skin. It's probably one of the most painful experiences I ever been through, and that's saying a lot. After that, things went downhill."

I frowned. "I'm sorry you went through that," I said. While there had to be footage of the fight going around, I refused to watch it. Even when Peter and I were on bad terms, the mere thought of seeing him suffer was enough to make my stomach churn. I pondered what he just said. It then occurred to me. "…You know, she might be able to control microwave radiation, if not produce it."

"That would explain a lot. You think we'll need to compensate for that?"

"No need. The suit is already made out of Postechnium, which is a steel alloy. It should be enough to handle the microwaves. But, just in case, maybe we should add a nanite reserve. As a matter of fact, let's add a bit of Postechnium fibers in the Kevlar."

"Good call. Anything else we should add?"

"Let's see." I used my hand to swipe at the right side of the hologram, scrolling through the blueprints until I found a folder named "For MJ". I tilted my head. "…Um, Peter… what's this?"

Peter looked at the list of files. He then started to look sheepish.

"Oh… that," he said slowly. He cleared his throat. "Um… well… you see…" He walked over and tapped the folder, showing a blueprint file named "Silk Shooters (tentative title)". He then opened it up in a different space. It showed two devices that looked like his old web shooters from before he got his suit from Tony Stark. However, they looked sleeker and made from better materials. "I didn't know how much you were going to use the Silk identity. I know you said you don't want to be a superhero, and I get that. But… the idea didn't leave my head. I figured that, if you were going to continue to be Silk, you could use a bit of protection – especially since you're going through martial arts training. So…" He gestured to the hologram.

My mouth became slightly as I raised my eyebrows. "…You drew this up for me?" I whispered out. I was a bit touched.

"Yeah, I did. I just forgot about it because… you know."

Because we each were having a staring contests with our own colons, I grumbled internally. Still, I was touched by the gesture.

"It's collapsible, too," he continued. "They turn into bracelets so you can move around with them discreetly." He paused. "…Do you… do you want them?"

I looked at him and smiled. "I do."

We worked on everything for hours. By the time we were done, it was about eight o'clock at night.

Peter and I stood in front of the newly rebuilt suit. It looked good as new, like the day it was built. I smiled. I then brought my hands up and looked at the two silver bracelets that were around my wrists. I nodded. I started to feel hope. I didn't exactly revel in it, but I wasn't quick to squash it, either. I just let it happen. Why shouldn't I? I was having a good day. Peter and I repaired the Black Dahlia Suit, I got these handy new Silk Shooters…

And Peter and I were friends again.

I guess that was the main thing I was happy about. After weeks of cold shoulders, stubbornness, misunderstandings, stress from a threat from our past, and a huge argument that could've easily been avoided, Peter and I finally got to finally talk and come to an understanding while understanding more about each other. We still had to deal with Beck and Li… Firestar and I knew that. But not even the most cynical side of me could dull this silver lining.

I turned towards Peter and punched him lightly in the arm. He turned towards me and smiled. I smiled back at him. My smile shrunk a bit as the urge to hug him kicked in. I hesitated. Would he be accepting? After a moment, I threw caution to the wind, took a step forward, and wrapped my arms around his body as I pulled him close. Much to my relief, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, albeit slowly. We held each other for a while.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked.

"I'm not sure 'okay' is the word," I replied. "But I do feel better than before." I rubbed my cheek against his. "What about you, Loser?"

"Honestly? Ditto."

"Good." I squeezed him tighter, causing him to do the same to me. He started to let go, but I held on. "A few more minutes, please."

"Oh, but when I wanted to nap for a few minutes earlier, I had to get up?" Peter protested. He obviously didn't mean it since he held me again.

"Yup, that's the rules," I retorted.

He rubbed his cheek against mine. "I hate you."

I scoffed. "You love me."

"Always."

"Ditto."

The next day, at school, Cessily was with me on the roof. In my hand was the card Beck gave me. I really didn't want to make this call. But I had to. Even with the phone in my other hand, I couldn't help but stare down at the card with disdain.

"Are you okay?" Cessily asked.

"When I was younger, I had to change the diaper of my baby cousin," I replied. "In the middle of it, he ended up shitting on my hand. Disgusting as that was, holding this card somehow feels even worse."

"Somehow, I believe you." I looked at her. She looked serious.

I sighed. "So I call Beck and tell him I'm willing to spill?"

"That is what he told me." The "he" in question was Scott.

"And then what?"

"I can't tell you, mostly because I don't know the rest of the plan." I narrowed my eyes at her. "Plausible deniability – that's the reason he gave."

I scoffed. "Had it been anyone else…" I sighed. "Okay, I'm doing it."

I dialed the number on the card as quickly as possible. I then put the phone to my ear. The number rang three times. All of them felt like they went on for an hour. A part of me was hoping no one picked up. That hoped was dashed when someone did pick up.

It was Beck.

"Ah, Michelle, what a pleasant surprise," Beck said. To my annoyance, he sounded sincere. "I take it you've finally come to your senses."

"I'll talk," I said, doing my best to sound defeated. "Just keep my family and friends out of this."

"I'm a man of my word, Michelle. So here's how this is going to go. We're going to meet at the 53 in Manhattan this Saturday night at 7:30. I want you dressed in your best attire. You'll have dinner with me and a few others. Then you'll tell me everything. You cooperate and I'll make sure you and those close to you are protected while The X-Men faces justice. However, if I feel this is a ploy, well…" He trailed off.

"I get it." I looked at Cessily. "This Saturday night at 7:30 at the 53. I'll be there." Cessily quickly pulled out her phone and started to tap away at it. I figured she was texting Scott.

"Good. Oh, and Michelle, if you feel like a snitch, don't. You're only doing the right thing. Well, ta-ta for now."

The call ended. I almost wanted to chuck the phone off the roof, but I really didn't want to explain to my folks why I need a new one.

"Uncle Erik better make this worth it," I grumbled.

"He will," Cessily assured. "He will."