"Well, look who's here." A smile. It's a broken smile, a smile from a face that isn't used to showing happiness, a smile from a person who's had way too much pain in his life, but it's enough to make her heart leap. Enough to make her hope that he's moving on from all of the stuff that happened last year.

"I figured my best friend deserved a decent birthday. And no birthday is decent without me, right?" He shuffles around on her doorstep, as if he's not quite sure if he's welcome. Which is completely ridiculous, but at least it gives her a chance to check him out completely. Gone are the days where he'd have some sort of scar on his face permanently, his face is as unbruised as anything. His posture is the same as it always was, hunched over with hands shoved in his jean pockets. He's let his hair grow shaggy again, and she immediately wonders if he's been outside over the past few months.

And it's been months. Months of no contact, of ringing his phone and it going straight to voicemail, of sending him emails and texts that she knew would go unanswered. The fact that he's alive is no surprise, seeing as Aunt May seemed unworried, claiming that he was just "clearing his head," "exploring himself," "seeing who he really is and wants to be," whatever that all meant. But still. It would've been nice to know that he was well.

"I was just about to order some pizza and get my drink on, if you wanna join?" It was midterms next week and she wasn't going to sacrifice her hard work for a crazy birthday night. The real celebrations would come with the cast of the production she was in, or the friends that she had made through the million other classes she was forced to take. When she had to miss a lot of time because of being stuck in the hospital, MJ made a promise to herself that she would work crazy hard from then on. And she stuck to that, setting herself timetables and having an organization that would've made even Gwen Stacy jealous.

But none of that mattered right now. What mattered was the fact that Peter was here. He was here and they were going to catch up and everything would feel a little bit brighter because of it.

...

Peter doesn't remember the last time he felt this okay. Since Gwen's death (and yes, it still kills him inside to think about it and his involvement in that even), since Harry's death, since leaving town and not looking back, he's been feeling anything but okay. He goes from feeling angry - so angry that his wall has holes in it from the outbursts - to sad - so sad that it leaves him paralyzed for days - in a flash.

He ended up in some tiny town a few miles north of NY, where everybody knew everyone but if he kept to himself, nobody knew anything about him. And keep to himself he did. Besides from sending his monthly letters to Aunt May, he didn't bother to leave his apartment. He ended up selling everything he owned to keep himself afloat, and when he ran out of things... well, that's how he ended up back here.

It just so happened to coincide with MJs birthday, and so here he was.

...

"Are we allowed to talk about what happened before you left?" Eventually MJ decides to bite the bullet and asks quietly. They've spoken about how Aunt May is, how MJ is finding her classes, how NY has been, what Peter has been up to (not much, she finds)... both of them stealthily avoiding Certain Events.

"What's there to talk about?" His entire body moves so that he's distancing himself from her - a defence mechanism, she supposes. But that doesn't mean it doesn't sting a little. It doesn't mean that she doesn't feel cold from where his arm was shrugged around her shoulders, his feet curled around hers, his chest lightly pressing against her forearm.

"You never gave me a chance to thank you." He opens his mouth to protest, to claim that there was nothing to thank him for, but she doesn't let him. "You came after me even though Harry wanted to kill you. You put on that suit again even though you'd sworn that you would never again. You saved my life-" Her voice breaks, all the emotions spilling out and becoming far too overwhelming for words. "Your parents would've been proud. Your uncle would've been proud. The Captain would've been proud, and more than anything... Gwen would've been proud." She doesn't have to have known those people well to be able to say that with complete conviction.

God damnit, she's proud of him. Doing what he did took great strength, a strength she's not sure that she's even capable of.

"I just did what anybody would've done." He tries to shrug it off, act like he's nothing. Yet another defence mechanism. He's constantly belittling himself, making it seem like he's not worth any praise or compliments, still blaming himself for every single death that's happened.

"But don't you see, Peter? Nobody else could've done it. You made a decision that led to being this Spider-dude, but you're the one who chose to become Spiderman. You took losing your Uncle, losing both your parents, and you made it into a good thing. You saved more lives than I could count, and I can't imagine how it felt to lose Gwen, but you still made it into a good thing. You stopped Harry from doing something unspeakable, you saved my life and you did it because you're a good person." She grabs his face and forces him to look at her properly. "Peter, you're a better person than anyone else. And I'm always going to be here to remind you of that and I am never going to stop thinking it."

With that, his face crumbles, and the tears start to fall.

So she does what anyone else would've done. She hugs him and holds him through the sobs.

...

"You okay?" She murmurs. He nods a little, but squeezes her hand a little tighter - in a "I'm really glad you're here" gesture. And she's glad that he's here, too.

Thoughts bombard her as she looks down at the grave. "HARRY OSBORN" it screams, in gaudy gold lettering. She wouldn't be surprised if it was genuine gold - the Osborn's never could quite find the balance between classy and gaudy.

When she woke up in the hospital, almost a year ago, she tried to fill in the gaps of the events leading up to her unconsciousness. She remembers her conversation with Harry, she remembers Peter showing up... but then it was just blackness. Quickly she discovers that Harry's dead - and at the hands of one of his own creations, nonetheless. Spiderman WAS there, and he hadn't been seen since. Aunt May told her that he'd left, but he was okay. It was all going to be okay.

There was a lot of newspaper articles about the way that Harry had ended, the spiral of madness that started with Oscorp's hidden experiments, through Norman's death, the creation of the "Green Goblin," and finally Harry's death. Though the exact details of the experiments and who had been hurt by them (Gwen, mainly) had been left out, for which everyone had been very grateful.

"I don't feel guilty." Peter broke his silence, finally. He'd woken MJ up that morning by telling her he needed to see the grave - for finality and closure. And it'd taken a lot of persuasion to get them allowed in, seeing as the grounds were strictly family only - and even then they would need to leave any bags or items at the gates. Luckily, the Osborn security had always had a soft spot for MJ, seeing as she had been Harry's longest girlfriend. And so they were in, and Peter was breaking his no-talking-about-Harry rule.

MJs usual style was interrogation - constantly asking questions until true feeling came out and everything was honest and real. But Peter had taught her that sometimes it was best to let the honesty diffuse out, because with him it always tended to. So she squeezed his hand in response, letting him know it was ok to continue if he needed to.

"He killed Gwen." She had to struggle against gasping at this. Ever since it happened, Gwen's death had always been labelled as Peter's fault. Not by anyone apart from him, of course, but now he was admitting to not feeling the blame for it? It was a big confession. "He broke us up and ruined the last few months we had together. He nearly killed you and he injured countless other people, hiding it behind the Goblin persona. If he hadn't died then, you wouldn't be standing beside me. Hell, I probably wouldn't even be here." He looks at her now, and she sees a little bit of hope in his eyes. "And that doesn't sound like a very good world, does it?"

She smiles in response, leans into him a little more. Who knows where they're going to go from here? All that matters is that right now they have each other. And their little bubble of happiness is safe for a little longer.

A/N: Finito.

Read and review as always! Love you guys, you made this thing really enjoyable to write!