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MJ Watson isn’t one to be rattled easily. Everyone around her knows her for her calm resolve, able to remain rational in the face of whatever life throws her way.
But right now, standing in front of a closed hospital door with the nauseating scents of antiseptic and bleach floating their way into her nostrils… Michelle Jones was frozen. Her heart was beating what feels like 100 miles an hour. How could it not be, knowing that Spider-Man Peter Parker was behind that door, laying in a hospital bed fighting to stay alive, a lethal bullet wound having pierced his body in an effort to protect someone so vulnerable.
A small part of her was telling her to turn around, that she is once again overstepping by even being here. They were currently only a small step above strangers and seeing him in such a vulnerable state is much too intimate for acquaintances. That tiny part of her was insisting that she doesn’t belong there.
But a much larger part is yelling at her to woman up and open the goddamn door. Not only so her hours of internal conflict about even showing up and subsequent near begging with the hospital staff to let her see him (it was a miracle they even did with his hospital room being the equivalent of Fort Knox) wouldn’t be for nothing, but because she knows that the tiny part couldn’t be more wrong. Deep in her heart she knows there is no where she belongs more than next to him. The magnetic pull towards him was too much to push down and ignore, something not even the strongest of heroes would be strong enough to fight. It was palpable. Which is probably why the hospital staff opened up the locked gates of this pristine sterile tower to allow her in to see Sleeping Beauty, because something in them also knew how badly she needed to be next to him.
But more than that… Peter needs her to be next to him. The crowd outside was providing enough well wishes for his masked alter ego to last a lifetime… but not one soul was here to see him. Nobody was here to see Peter Parker. The mere idea of that, of someone with a heart big enough to be filled with the amount of kindness and love required to do what he apparently did for her, not having anyone there for him when he is so fragile… it made her stomach turn. It was unacceptable.
If Peter Parker was brave and kind enough to sacrifice everything for her safety, then damn it Michelle Jones had to be brave and kind enough to simply sit by his bedside.
If anyone deserved that much… it was him.
So, with a final steeling deep breath (breath… breathing… something she can do sans machine…) she opened his door, walking in more timidly than she knew she ever could be.
“Peter?” She whispered into the room as she slowly crossed the barrier, barely even audible over the sounds of the machines keeping him alive.
Gingerly closing the door behind her, she allowed herself a good look at him… and she felt all the air leave her body in a whimper.
His beautiful bambi eyes were hidden behind gently sealed lids, his face littered with cuts and nearly hidden under an oxygen mask, giving him priceless breaths. He was hooked up to so many monitors and IVs that someone as precious as him should never even have to think of. And she knew that that was only the tip of the iceberg, and the worst of it was hidden under the cotton hospital blankets. She allowed herself to be grateful to be spared that despite her heartbreak that he didn’t get that luxury. That he had to live it.
Her eyes grew misty as she approached him, that magnetic pull drawing her to the chair right next to him, close enough to reach out if she dared to handle something so delicate.
“Hey Peter.” She breathed out as she settled beside him, voice wet with unshed tears for him. The fact that he was so close to death felt so much more real being close enough to see the rise and fall of the heart monitor, and it was enough to choke her. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I’m here.”
Without even thinking, she reached out to his comatose sleeping form. Her hands found his soft chestnut curls like muscle memory, in the same fashion as one might accidentally drive to their old high school while visiting their hometown. Except this didn’t feel like a mistake. It felt good. It felt right. Her fingers began detangling some small patches and it felt like they were home.
She let herself linger there for a little bit, feeling like she was petting a puppy. And in a way, she kind of was, wasn’t she? Peter Parker and his big brown puppy eyes were practically a golden retriever in human form. Loyal to a detriment, full of light and comfort… her lips quivered into a small smile at the thought of that comparison, realizing she may have saved a lost stray desperate for a home and affection. At that moment, she made a mental promise to keep him around if he is willing to stay. Nobody deserves to be alone, much less him of all people. And while she may not feel anything romantic for him, she isn’t going to turn down a friendship with someone so good.
Suddenly, MJ was pulled out of her thoughts by something unexpected.
She started hearing soft sounds from the unconscious boy in front of her, and her heart fell for a second, hand pausing and body tensing into a statue as worry filled her body that something was wrong and oh god it’s happening he’s dying Peter is dying!
But that couldn’t be the case. His machines stayed steady, the soft beeping of his heart monitor grounding her and stopping her rapidly approaching panic attack.
But then… what was that sound?
She listened closer to the soft vibrations Peter was imitating, feeling him subconsciously lean into her hand as if silently asking her to continue petting him.
Was he… was he purring?
She tentatively began playing with his hair again, feeling him lean in even more as he got ever so slightly louder.
She remembers a comment Peter made in the bunker alluding to mutations, and remembers seeing a fun fact somewhere on some stupid gimmick twitter account that sometimes spiders purr and…
Oh my god Peter was purring. He felt so safe and loved in her presence that he was purring for her.
A giggle escaped her lips as a wide smile danced on her face, a single tear slipping from her eye at the adorable realization. “Okay, so less puppy, more kitten then.” She joked to his sleeping form, knowing that if he were awake that would get an adorable breathy laugh out of him, a laugh she was already growing to adore again.
God, she hoped she got to hear it again. She wished with all her might that he would be okay, that he would pull through and survive this. That he got to leave his tower, go ride home with his knight in a not-so shiny grey coat and be safe. She doesn’t believe in fairytales, the mere idea of such cliches being enough to make her want to throw up, but if she saw a shooting star right now, she knows she wouldn’t be above making this wish. Afterall, if magic can be used for something as devastating as erasing someone from collective memory, surely there is some left to make sure Peter is okay. Because he has to be.
But for now, she does what she can by continuing to comfort him, whispering soft assurances and playing with his hair as if it was precious silk. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
MJ stayed like that for half an hour or so, until the comfortable silence began to pull her under, her eyes beginning to flutter shut. Typically, she wouldn’t dare sleep somewhere so foreign, but she feels safe with Peter. And she knows he feels safe with her. So, it will be okay if she rests for a bit.
Before sleep takes her, she gives one last look to his poor face, and she swears she sees his eyes open. For a brief moment, she thinks they make eye contact, and the last thing she sees before her voyage to dreamland is a delicate smile under the oxygen mask, one that she can’t help but mirror as her eyes fall shut.
She dreams of swinging through the skies of a European city, safe in his arms.
A knock startles MJ awake, body jolting as she returns to the land of the living. “Wha..?”
She looks up, noticing the room has now gotten dark around her, and sees a kind looking nurse standing in Peter’s door frame. “Hi, I’m so sorry, but visiting hours are over. Unless you’re family, I’m afraid it’s time for you to leave.”
For a brief moment, she considers telling the nurse that she is his family. It wouldn’t be a complete lie; she is probably the closest person he has to family… but she knows it wouldn’t be right. Right now, they’re not family, despite hopes that one day, maybe they will be again.
She wipes some sleep out of her eyes, standing up to leave. “Yeah. Yeah okay.”
The nurse gives her a kind smile before leaving her to it, the door left slightly ajar.
Now at her feet, MJ sighs deeply and looks at Peter. He somehow looks even more broken with only the moonlight illuminating him, and the idea of leaving him makes her feel a sense of dread she thinks she has only felt one other time in her life. But she knows it isn’t goodbye.
She gently grabs his hand, careful of his IV giving him oh-so important nutrients and rubs her thumb over his bruised knuckles. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
A form of muscle memory takes over her again as she leans down, placing a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead.
As she pulls back, she can’t help but feel slight guilt at the betrayal to her boyfriend, but it feels so right that it quickly dissipates. I mean, what’s one more thing to withhold, right?
Slowly backing away from Peter’s form, her eyes glance to his bedside table, full of gifts and cards and pictures for Spider-Man. She smiles a bit to herself at how loved Peter’s other half is but can’t help the lingering sadness that comes with the realization that there is nothing there for Peter.
That just won’t do.
So, MJ reaches into her bag, pulling out her sketchbook and opening it to a sacred page, marked with a drawing of him and Ned, someone she wishes she could bring to visit him here. She gives her work one last smile before placing it front and centre, right in his line of sight, hoping it will bring him some comfort when he wakes up. That he will know she was here.
MJ slowly walks towards the door, regretfully having to leave Peter alone. She spares him one last look in the door frame, feeling a familiar and welcome warmth fill her body.
She may not love him, but by god does she care about him.
And for now, maybe that’s enough.