It was 7:00 PM on a Saturday night and like every other Saturday night, Ned and Peter found themselves laid out in the living area, anywhere there was space.

They decided to watch something different this night. They watched a couple of old Japanese movies with subtitles, and although they could hardly read fast enough to know exactly what was happening, the screenplay was all too entrancing.

As they neared the end of the second movie, Michelle opens the door loudly, stumbling with bags on her arms.

"Dark in here," she muttered out of breath. The elevator broke down and she had to walk up three flights of stairs just to reach the apartment. Then, she remembered that she had bags in the car and went back after her second wind to retrieve them. To say she was out of shape would be an understatement.

"Need help?" Ned asked, confused and concerned.

"No I'm good." Michelle mumbled, placing all the bags on the glass coffee table in the dining area. Peter still rose to his feet to help her put away the groceries.

"Had you told me you had groceries in the car, I would have helped. I heard about the elevator." Of course he heard from Ned considering he hadn't left the apartment all day.

"Shoulda, coulda, woulda. I'm here now." Michelle grumbled, placing the empty plastic bags underneath the sink. "Besides, wouldn't want to interrupt whatever this is. What are you watching?"

Peter watched her put the groceries in the kitchen before folding her arms in her cardigan and sitting on the arm of the couch. Her mood seems off, he noted.

"Oh, we're not really sure." Ned chose to speak first. "Some old movie Peter found on Hulu. It's actually interesting if you're into that kind of thing."

"Nice. Well, don't let me stop you. I'm just gonna go chill in my room." She gathered her things quietly, beginning to feel Peter's unmoving gaze.

"You're welcome to join us." Ned suggested, moving over to make space on the couch.

Usually, Michelle would take her chance to squeeze in an insult or two before joining them on the couch to watch the movie. She'd never give up the chance to watch something she'd never seen before and have intellectual conversation about it afterwards. But she only shrugged silently before shaking her head.

"A-are you hungry? I could order.. something, if you'd like." Peter spoke, still not quite sure if this was all in his head.

"That's okay." That was the last thing she said before she disappeared down the hallway.

"Did she seem off to you?" Ned asked Peter when he sat back down, eyes still on the narrow walkway that led to the bedrooms. "Peter?"

"Huh? Oh — uh, yeah. She did."

-

After Ned left, Peter picked up around the living room and finished putting away the groceries in the pantry. He turned the lights and the TV off and escaped into the hallway that led to the bedrooms. He was confused when he saw the guest bedroom door— that only May really used when she came to visit Peter and had one, two, three too many glasses of wine — was wide open, cold air escaping it. Peter walked in to see the french balcony doors wide open, and Michelle standing there looking over the city.

In an effort not to startle her, Peter quietly knocked on one of the doors. Michelle didn't even flinch.

"How's it possible that you walk so loud on carpeted floor?" Michelle asked. She was leant over the balcony railing, a glass of wine in her hand.

"You okay?" He ignored her question, knowing she didn't really need an answer from him.

Michelle stayed quiet. She had made it in her best interest to never tell a lie, but maybe the truth wasn't the best way to go right now. So she stood there, wearing nothing but her spaghetti strap body suit and a pair of joggers, silently watching the city she had grown to love so much. Of course, she was freezing, but that felt a little better than nothing.

"MJ?" Peter nudged her.

She chuckled, looking down and allowing a single tear escape her.

"You know, it's crazy,"Michelle sniffled. "How you can live your entire life in a city filled with people, and never escape the feeling of being alone."

Peter didn't say anything. Truthfully, he didn't know what to say. He had never felt alone. Aunt May, and Uncle Ben when he was alive, always made sure of that.

"My mom called today while I was at work. We weren't speaking for awhile because of this whole argument me and my family had at Thanksgiving. It was pointless and petty but I'm just like my mother. Stubborn. So, of course, when she called me this morning I didn't answer the first time. She calls again and again and when I finally answer I'm screaming at her. 'Mom, I'm at work. What could possible be so important?!' and-" Michelle is sobbing now. Peter pulls her into his arms and hugs her. She grips Peters shirt as hard as she can as she's crying into his shirt.

"Peter my dad is dead," she finally says.

"Oh, MJ." Peter began to rub her back gently, but Michelle pulled away and took a sip of her wine.

"I mean we weren't close. He was a republican, y'know." Michelle chuckled. "He didn't like that I'm bisexual. He hated the way I dressed and the books I read. He was always telling me to brush my hair and straighten it. I don't know how he bagged my mom, strong black woman that she is but all the same..." Michelle trailed off, placing her hand on her hip and letting her head fall forward.

"He was your dad." Peter understood. When Ben died, he remember thinking some of the exact same things. Ben was a lot like a father to him; he would punish him, take him down a notch, and knock him upside the head if it was ever necessary. But he would take all of that any day if it meant having Ben back in his life.

"The last thing I said to him was, 'why don't you just stay out of my life'." Michelle stared at her wine glass, lifeless.

"You can't think about that stuff, MJ. It's not you're fault he died when he did. I'm sure he knew you didn't mean it." Peter tried to comfort her, but deep down he knew that in that moment there was nothing he could say that would make her feel better. "How many glasses of that did you drink? Let me get you some water."

"Don't bother, I already took off for the next two weeks. A hangover is the least of my worries." Michelle sat in the chair that was on the balcony. "Don't worry about me, I'm just going to be out here a little longer."

"Okay. Just know that you are gonna be okay, MJ." He grabbed a blanket from the guest room inside and handed it to Michelle. Then, quickly made his way back inside.

Before he closed the door, Michelle stopped him .

"Thank you, Peter."