By Sunlight (P.P + M.J)

46. The Chosen Few

After a while, Peter was allowed to sit in MJ's hospital room when she became stable enough. The doctor said she could wake up at any moment, and that maybe it would be good to see a familiar face when she opened her eyes. It was late at night, and Tony had generously commandeered a private room down the hall for her parents to sleep in after being awake for three straight days. He arranged to make a donation to the hospital just so there wouldn't be any trouble over it, and wouldn't take no for an answer. They'd be back in MJ's room at the crack of dawn, no doubt. Peter was ordered to notify them if she woke up, obviously, or if anything slightly changed.

Before Tony, himself, left for the night, he gave Peter one last thing: Jack's black backpack. It had all of his things in it, like his phone and earbuds, his wallet and school books. Peter's heart hurt at the very sight of it, and he thought he might cry again when he hugged it to his chest. Even after three days, there had been no word on his whereabouts, and Gwen hadn't shown up. He had no idea what happened to either of them. Tony promised to find out, but Peter couldn't help but feel a sense of dread.

Peter, tired but not wanting to sleep, watched the news from the tv in the hospital room. There was nothing about what became of his friends, for the anchors were covering a massive prison riot that happened at Rikers. Not really caring for that at the moment, he busied himself with looking through Jack's stuff as he sat in MJ's hospital room. He felt bad for doing it, but maybe he could apologize if Gwen really had recovered the werewolf.

It turned out that Jack really didn't have a lot of things. His wallet was practically empty, save for a singular dollar with a note on it that said "give to Ned" and his Christmas list that Peter has been searching for. Curious, Peter turned on his phone and discovered that it wasn't password-protected. He stared at the apps, deciding to stay away from his friend's messages as he perused instead through his Tumblr. He had a ton of followers, and he took lots of selfies of himself from different parts of the city and with fans.

Everybody loved him.

Next, he went through his Spotify, and man, did he have a lot of playlists. There was a "Crime-Fighting with Spidey" playlist, a "Car Chase" playlist, one that consisted of just epic orchestral scores and soundtracks, and a lot of other ones. There was even one called "Anxiety Attacks!" and that one made Peter a little sad.

He was curled up on a couch that neighbored MJ's hospital bed well after midnight, swaddled in a hoodie and with earbuds in as he listened to Jack's calming songs from his anxiety playlist, almost asleep when he heard the click of the door handle. His eyes snapped open, hoping to see Jack, or Gwen, or maybe just a nurse, but didn't get any of those when an unfamiliar woman walked in. She had dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, brown eyes that were rife with concern, and she was pretty tall. It was odd, because for a split second, she looked like MJ.

"Oh, sorry," she said in a hushed voice. The woman sounded exhausted when she spoke, closing the door gently behind her before walking to MJ's bed and taking her hand in hers. She wore jeans and a flannel jacket, a little damp from the melting snow on her shoulders. She must have just arrived. Peter got up from the couch, taking his earbuds out, when she said, "How long has she been like this?"

"Three days," Peter replied, voice a little hoarse. "Doctor says she could wake up at any time." The woman gave her a look, eyebrow raised, and he stuck his hand out to her. "I'm Peter. Uh, Parker. Her boyfriend. And you?"

The corner of her mouth turned up in a small smile, and it really made her look like MJ when she did that.

"Jane, her sister." She took his hand and gave it a shake. "I've been wanting to meet you since she sent me a really vague text about how she was seeing someone and didn't want to talk about it."