Chapter Text
Michelle wasn’t around for the aftermath of the snap. She was dust in the wind, left in a sort of stasis that was shaped as an impermanent death. She’s seen photos, despite how much her mom wishes she wouldn’t. She’s seen the way her Nana flinches at the sound of wheels screeching, something any New Yorker would normally ignore. Half the universe gone, no discrimination. Balance – that’s what it was sold as, and many had managed to find some semblance of that in the years that followed, but those first initial days-... it must have been chaos.
The streets must have looked a lot like the sight she sees before her now. Smoke, turned over cars, fire, destruction. She knows that they did, but its a different feeling seeing it in person. It’s a different feeling knowing she’s seeing only a fraction of what her Nana did, seeing what her dad ran from.
It’s a different feeling knowing that somewhere amongst the wreckage is Peter.
She continues to barrel towards the center of the bridge. There are carcasses of drones all around. Her mind reminds her of the quick glimpses she got of Peter’s raw power, stripping them apart as he tried to find a version of her that didn’t exist, and tried to fix a mistake that wasn’t entirely his fault.
But that was Peter, wasn’t it? Helping. Even when it wasn’t his own fault. When he could have just walked away. He might have wanted a normal vacation but he’d seen trouble in Venice and acted because he could. He was always going to wind up here, and every other version of it.
Mace in her hand, ready to fight h
er way through to reality if needs be , and eyes on the vision of a boy who’s stumbling put from the wreckage, Michelle picks up, sprinting and dropping the weapon in hand until Peter is in her arms.
There’s no mistaking the way he returns the hug, fingers curling into her and gripping her, trying to establish exactly the same thing.
Real.
There.
“Are you okay?” She whispers into his neck. The smell of charred fabric is filling her senses. She can feel the fabric of his suit fraying in places under her fingers.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” He says quickly. MJ thinks it’s a little bit of a lie. “Are you okay?” Peter asks, pulling back a little to look over her, eyes catching the bruise she’d gained in her car ride.
“What happened? H-Happy said that you were gone, and I-...”He stutters. She can see the panic taking over in is eyes as he tracks over the events of the day. MJ touches his hand, trying to pull him back to the present.
“Beck needed final clearance. He came and got me, and uh.” Her breath catches, remembering the way he’d mimicked Morgan’s voice, remembering how real every single cry she’d heard had felt.
“I get it.” Peter says, because he always does, doesn’t he?. Effectively stopping her from going down that road too, bringing her back to the present. Beck had implied he’d seen Peter before she’d woken up. She can’t help but wonder what he’d seen in that time too.
They’re both too hyped on adrenaline and fear to really have a productive conversation about it. This isn’t something to be discussed on a burning bride, but a quiet rooftop in afternoon sun. It’s a conversation they’ll share with each other and say to the sky, because Peter gets it.
“Did you get him?” She asks, wetting her lips. Peter’s eyes leave her for the first time, looking off to the side with an expression she’s never seen on him before.
Peter Parker who did everything he could to minimise the crash of her dad’s plane. Peter Parker who had ensured Liz’s dad had lived through that catastrophe. Who must have held his punches back, looked conflicted in how he felt about his answer. Guilty and relieved, both at the same time.
“He’s gone.”
Gone. Not arrested or hanging from a web, screaming out profanities. Gone.
Dead.
Guilty and relieved.
She doesn’t think Peter has it in him to kill someone. Unavoidable circumstances more likely to have led to it than Peter’s own hand. He feels guilty he couldn’t stop it. He feels ashamed that he’s quietly happy it’s over. No one had gone after his friends before, after all.
“You should-... probably check. Though. That everything’s down.” Peter says, unleashing his fist and holding out the glasses she’d seen both he and Beck wearing over the last week.
“I gave him-... I don’t have access.” She tries to explain how she’d handed it over. Beck’s contingency plans, didn’t want her meddling even though, ultimately, she had. Part of her doesn’t want to put them on again. Just another reminder that this is her legacy.
This is what she’ll be known for.
“Tony always had a back-up plan, right?” Peter tries to smile, holding them out and she realises that maybe he needs this confirmation. Tony’s back-up plans were improvisation and quick thinking. She thinks Peter needs to cut himself some slack in that regard, stop idealising something he’s never going to be.
Something they don’t need him to be.
Michelle takes the glasses from his hands and put them on. They dim the already gloomy bridge that’s only lit by the afternoon glow and a fire a few feet away from them.
Nothing happens. It’s silent. Peter’s brows dip in concern for a moment. MJ wants to laugh. One mistake and, for all intents and purposes, she’s booted from the family tree.
Will FRIDAY respond to her when she gets home? That thought alone hurts more than EDITH not even recognising her.
Then.
Blue, and way too much input. She can’t focus on the number of windows that are popping open in her vision before “Verification needed”.
“She didn’t do that before...” Peter murmurs to himself.
“Beck had me taken off. Just in case.” She tells him, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Michelle Jones-Watson.” She says before the blue turns to red.
EDITH repeats her request.
“MJ.” She tries again. EDITH only repeats her request. Michelle sighs and goes to remove the glasses before pausing. “Michelle Stark.”
The blue changes to red.
A back-up plan, indeed. A name he never thought she’d call herself. Smart. She’ll give him that.
EDITH confirms all the illusions are down. She confirms the drones are returning. She confirms it’s over. She doesn’t need to say it, but she confirms how implicit MJ feels in all this, reminds her that this is what she has to face now with no clue how to do it.
Something must show on her face because Peter calls out to her, drawing her attention over to him. “They don’t suit you. I mean. You look great. In everything. But they’re not you. You know?”
Despite the feeling in her chest, the corner of MJ’s mouth ticks up. “Verbose for a guy who limped over here.”
Peter snorts. “Cut me some slack? I hit my head as well as... my well, everything.”
He says it too casually, like he’s used to it, and maybe he is. She should be too, but her heart still jumps with worry.
“What I mean to say is they look great, but I got you something that. I got you a souvenir that might suit you a little better?” He says, the words slow and self conscious as he struggles to pull something out from a slim pocket in the lining of his suit. As soon as it’s in his hands, his face cracks, all the hope and quiet relief that had been building suddenly dropping from him.
“No. No. Oh, MJ, I'm so sorry.” He says, hands cupping whatever he’d been trying to give her, looking down at it mournfully. “I had this plan, this stupid plan.”
Michelle steps forward and peers into his hand, seeing a silver chain and shards of black glass. The longer she looks at it, the more she thinks a few of the shards look like petals.
Oh.
Oh.
“Peter.” She tries to say. He keeps going.
“I wrote it down, I was gonna buy you this and give it to you in Paris at the top-“
MJ has to makes a decision.
Peter will always be dealing with this, and for better or worse, MJ will be too. Whether or not, she ever shares her name with the world, there will always be another fallout from the legacy that rests on her shoulders.
There’s always going to be something, but maybe, as much as it will hurt, it will be nice to have someone there at the end of it. It might be nice to give into those feelings that aren’t ‘just’ anything, and stop letting someone else’s choices dictate what she gets to enjoy.
It might be nice to have a voice at the end of the line, or have someone calling her name. Her name. Not someone else’s.
MJ makes a decision and takes a step.
She stops Peter’s words with a quick peck. It’s awkward and rushed. Her lips chapped and his covered in ash and grime.
“And you just kissed me. What?” he says, smile quickly recovering from the loss of the necklace in his hands.
“I don’t have the best luck getting close to people. I didn’t want you-... having to take on all this-“
“I want to.” He cuts in quickly.
“So I lied. When I told you I was only watching you because you were Spider-Man.”
Peter’s smile broadens, his eyes softening and focusing on only her. He’s looking at her like he often did at school and she feels so dumb for ignoring it for this long.
On a fee rare occasions she isn’t too smart for her own good, apparently. Too protective of herself, maybe.
Peter holds out the necklace to her, still pooled and shattered in his hands. He touches it delicately like he’s scared it’ll break again.
“It’s meant to be a Black Dahlia.” He explains.
“Like the murder?” Like an afternoon on a rooftop.
“Yeah.” He admits. The tips of his ears are red. He’s been wearing a mask all afternoon there’s no way that they’re sunburnt this time. “I’m sorry it’s broken.”
MJ hums. She holds out her hands to take the pendant from him, moving the broken leaves away and looking at the remaining one, looking like hands on a clock. “I think I like it better broken.”
It feels a little more true to her.
“I really like you.”
She matches his smile with one of her own. It’s only been a few days but it feels nice to smile, to properly smile not from a bitter laugh or pure relief, but over something just pleasantly and wholeheartedly good.
“I really like you too.”
This time Peter is the one to take a step forward. This time Peter kisses her. It’s still awkward but they’re left smiling from it, both feeling a little more confident now that it’s out in the open.
MJ doesn’t ignore the butterflies or flips in her stomach this time. She doesn’t ignore the way she feels warm all over, unable to reign her smile in as they kiss again, this time a lot less awkward. She doesn’t ignore the way Peter holds her arm and the way she doesn’t want him to let go.
Nothing’s really changed this time because the feelings had been there for a while. Even if it had, she’s more than happy to navigate through it all with him.
MJ fights tooth and nail to fly back home with her friends. Waiting around for Happy to sort a private jet seemed less efficient than just going with her class, and she wanted to feel normal for just a little bit after everything she’d been through.
Her mom is split between not trusting her school to get her home after the events of this trip, and not wanting her abroad for any longer than needs be. It’s a lot of trying not to cry and long, lengthy video calls with both her Nana and her mom, alternating between them until they reach an answer.
MJ gets her way, but her mom compromises her morals just a little to allow FRIDAY to use every means necessary to track their flight home.
She doesn’t remember much of the flight, other than most of it is spent with Peter’s head on her shoulder and hers atop of his. She sleeps for majority of the flight, only catching to clutch Peters hand through take off and missing landing entirely. He smiles at her, a hint of mischief in his eyes as he looks down at their joint hands.
“Are you afraid of flying?” He asks, “Or is it heights?”
“I’m not scared of anything.” She murmurs, “I’m just cautious.”
“Well. If you’re not scared of heights then maybe I could take you swinging one day. There’s nothing like feeling the wind on your face, and I’ll bet you we could get some awesome photos if you’re willing to hold on with one hand.” He says, continuing to babble and blatantly ignoring how she turns to look at him in horror as they suggestion grows and grows.
“Oh, hey. We’re in the air. Take off’s over.” He tacks on finally, effectively putting an end to his stream of words before leaning forward to rap at his screen. MJ hadn’t even noticed the incline had levelled off.
The airport is busy, but its easy to see the parents waiting for them. They’re all holding signs and she can see her Mom and Nana with one of their own.
MJ Watson proudly written across it. It doesn’t get held up for long. As soon as they catch sight of her, it’s dropped and they’re rushing over barely giving her time to say goodbye to Peter.
They’re greeting is all tight hugs and hands on cheeks. It’s checking if she has a concussion and delicately touching the bruise at her temple. It’s kisses to her hair and clenched eyes. It feels a little bit like that day they all returned again.
Michelle doesn’t complain. She let’s it wash over her, happy to be home. Out the corner of her eye, she spots Flash’s name on a card, held by his driver and her heart breaks. He moves on before she can call him over.
“I did buy a couple souvenirs, but they-... I don’t know where my bags went.” She admits as they walk to the care, unsure of what else to really say about the trip, not wanting them to think she’d ever forgotten who was waiting for her.
“Sweetheart, you and your safety are better than anything you could have brought back.” Her mom says, reaching back from the driver’s seat to squeeze her knee. Her grip is a little too tight. MJ doesn’t mention it. “Plus, you’ve always got your memories from Venice. I’ll happily hear about that over any little trinket you could have gotten me.”
Her mind instead drifts to a little bit of plastic that had been sitting in her bag, bought from a random gift shop during a pit stop on the way to Prague. It wasn’t much, just something to hang on the door, but it had Morgan’s name on it. It was meant to be some kind of offering, a step, and now it was gone.
Billionaire Heiress goes to Europe and all she came back with was further complications to their relationship. She doesn’t want to let Morgan down though. She’s a kid, and she doesn’t want to even begin to explain what had happened and why there was no little gift waiting for her like she’d promised there would be.
She spends the car ride with her head tipped back trying to think of some kind of solution to a seemingly miniscule problem. There’s a pair of classes in her pocket that need to be returned to the Lake House, they’re in their rightful place, but she’s not ready for that weight yet, but they are not the kind of souvenir she wants to give Morgan – to give her sister.
Michelle has a day to ponder it before they’re all invited to the Lake House. Pepper and Rhodey keen to check up on her after her return, hearing the events from Happy. She doesn’t really know what that means for her going forward, she suspects that the far off promises Tony had made about getting her used to the Stark name and title would be brought forward a lot sooner.
She suspected her senior year wasn’t going to look as normal as she’d once thought. If whatever training or prep they have planned eases the transition once she’s finished college, she can’t say she’s too upset.
That doesn’t help her current predicament though. She’s still left with the prospect of a disappointed five year old, who’s too smart for her own good and will quickly realise that there’s something bigger going on or will cry because MJ is already a disturbance in her life and a lack of souvenir means that bot only has she waltzed in, but she’s waltzed in and forgotten her.
“I think you’re spiralling.” Peter tells her unhelpfully from her bed. May had freed him from the house arrest that all their parents seemed to have them under for patrol. He’d stopped by her apartment on his way home, interrupting her evening with the only other person who was free from their parents’ watchful eye.
“She is definitely spiralling.” Flash sighs, throwing a peanut in Peter’s direction, doing nothing to hide his smug smile when it bounces off his head. The realisation that Flash knew his secret had been rather anti-climatic, the pair seemingly coming to some kind of silent truce that they refused to inform MJ of. “Just overnight something. She won’t know.”
“It won’t be the same!” MJ huffs.
“Nothing you do is gonna be the same, Em.” Flash flicks another nut towards Peter’s head. This time he catches it, popping it into his mouth with a grin of his own, causing the boy to frown. One thing Flash hadn’t been silent about was ‘couple shit’ in front of him, making it known every chance he could he was disappointed in MJ for this. She knows that he’s happy for her deep down. Deep, deep down. “But something is better than nothing?”
“Plus, she’s five. You could draw some lines on a page and I’m sure she’d think you brought her the Mona Lisa itself.”
“This is why the kids from camp bullied you.” She replies with an eye roll but it does spark an idea for her. It’s not a souvenir, but something else that Morgan’s always wanting – time. A little extra time to get to know the person she’ heard about, curiosity about the ghost that sometimes walks the halls of her house.
“Wait, what?” Peter asks, sitting up a little straighter, head tilting as he laughs at the mere idea of it. Both MJ and Flash ignoring him.
“Did you bring me anything back?” Morgan asks after dinner. The adults are up in Pepper’s office talking. MJ suspects that’s going to happen a lot now, but has to commend Morgan for knowing to wait until they’re gone to ask. No doubt Pepper would apologise for her behaviour, say she’d tried to explain, tried not to spook Michelle.
MJ just shakes her head, propping her feet up on the coffee table while the TV plays some show Morgan’s fond of. It’s about a dog. It’s kind of cute.
“Why?” Morgan asks, not looking away from the TV herself.
“Lost my bags.”
“Why?”
“A monster asked me for them.” MJ replies. It’s bad to lie to kids, she knows that. She doesn’t care in this instance though.
Morgan goes quiet for a moment. MJ thinks she’s possibly gotten distracted by the show, and is ready to lay the whole thing to rest, feeling a bit ridiculous for worrying this much when the kid isn’t even all that bothered.
“A dragon or sea monster?” Morgan eventually asks.
“A sea dragon.” Michelle responds without a beat. Out of the corner of her eye she watches Morgan nod solemnly like that’s the only respectable answer to give.
She’s right, of course.
“In exchange for my bags though, they gave me this really cool idea. They said, that I could tell you all about Venice, it’s home and we could make some signs for our rooms filled with pictures of it.”
“Signs?”
“One for your door, one for mine.”
Morgan looks away from the TV , turning to watch MJ thoughtfully before nodding and getting up, racing across the room to pull her ‘good stuff’ from the play drawer.
It’s not a perfect solution, but given the circumstances there was never going to be a perfect one. However, she gets a little bit of time alone with a girl who’s meant to be part of her family, and she brings a couple of memories of a house that’s meant to be one of her homes.
By the end of the evening, Morgan has drawn an approximation of Venice that has her name embedded somewhere in the jagged purple lines - for purple is the best colour - Michelle can't really tell any of it apart but, then again, she'd spent so much time running through the city that the spirals and rough scribbles that are on the lage are probably the best artistic impression of her words that she could get. Morgan is happy with it. That's the main thing.
MJ's own sketch is nothing of Venice, not feeling so settled by her trip there as she might have hoped. Instead it's just doodles of things that matter to her. People she cares for, all standing along a street, her name on a street sign. In the distance, it's on something else too; a tower that had been sold years ago and had its name changed long before that. A recreation of a drawing that's hung up in a long empty lab.
She doesn’t stay the night, going home with her mom and her Nana, but she leaves the evening feeling less like a ghost that’s haunting those halls.