Summary: Mary Jane finds an old diary from a great grandmother. When she reads the diary, there is knowledge about events in her family she didn't know about, events that may change her life.
Note: I don't think this type of story has been done before on Spider-Man, but there is always a first time for everything. If there is a story out there similar to this one, I would like to read it.
Spoilers: Both movies. But for the first one mostly. Very minor ones from the second movie and the novels.
Timeline: Ten months after SM1 and about seven months before SM2.
Feedback: Always happy to hear what readers have say.
Archive: Anywhere, but please ask me first. I would like to know where it's going and to make sure it will have my name on it.
Disclaimers: They're not mine. Stan Lee and Marvel own them. Anyone else not realizable is mine. Not making one penny for this story. This fic is just for enjoyment.
Thoughts, flashbacks, quotes from the movies (SM1), and the parts that in the past based on the diary are italics.
Pulling a lock of red hair behind her ear that had gotten free from her ponytail, Mary Jane Watson sighed. She went back to putting yet other stack of dusty books in the nearly full box. If anyone ever thought cleaning and organizing an attic was fun, they're nuts.
Having heard her daughter's sigh, Madeline Watson straightened from her hunched position wiping off a small dust covered antique table. Mary Jane had been working since this morning without stopping for a break. Neither of them had bothered with something to eat since this morning.
"Why don't you take a break, dear?"
"I will as soon as I am done with these books." There were a dozen or so more books left that needed to be placed in the box. Grabbing a handful of books from the shelf, Mary Jane stood up to carry the books back to the box. As she did that one of books fell, hitting the floor. Not bothering to bend down again, M.J. carried the remaining books to the box.
Walking back over to the fallen book, she picked it up, looking it over. It was old, the cover thick with dust. The book was made of leather, and must have been a rose color at one time, but now the color had faded. It was a thin volume, the pages yellow with age.
Opening it carefully, Mary Jane looked at the written print on the first page.
It's a diary, she said to herself seeing the date. The date on the page read, June 17, 1865. 1865? She looked at the date again, sure enough it was right. The print had faded, making it difficult to read. The lighting in the attic was dim, not helping matters.
"What did you find?" Mary Jane turned her head startled to see her mother next to her.
"A diary, an old one. It's dated in 1865." M.J. handed the book to her mother.
"Oh…" Whatever Madeline was going to say died on her lips as she opened the diary.
"You've seen it before," It was more of a statement then a question.
"Yes, I have." Madeline didn't explain farther.
"And?" Mary Jane asked. Why this diary got her curious to read it, she didn't know.
Madeline sighed. "Your father wanted to write a book on it. I never read this myself," she raised the book in question. "But I didn't think it was right to tell his ancestor's history, just to gain the best seller's list or money."
"The diary is from Dad's family?"
"From a great great great great grandmother, that much I do know."
Mary Jane could understand why her mother would hide the diary even if she had never read it herself. M.J. knew her father, he would have written a book to gain some money. Mary Jane didn't know if he would have gone so far as to claim the story was his own idea; a work of fiction. But she wouldn't put it passed him.
Her parents had finally gotten a divorce a few months ago. Madeline had kicked Phil out, or Phil claim he left, depending on who M.J. talked to. She didn't talk to her father much, so she knew without her mother telling her, that Madeline kicked Phil out.
"Do you want the diary? It is more yours then mine." Madeline held out the diary toward her daughter.
Without a word, Mary Jane took the diary. She opened it to some point near the end of the book. The pages were blank. The diary is a thin volume, it wouldn't take much to fill it up would it? M.J. was about to comment about this fact when her mother spoke first.
"Are you ready to start modeling Monday?"
"As ready as I'll ever be." M.J. smiled, though it was a bit forced. She was going to be modeling for a semi unknown fashion designer. Pierre had been in the fashion business for a few years, but his designs hadn't made it big yet.
Still auditioning with no luck at getting any parts on Broadway, Mary Jane didn't mind if they were small or large. She wanted to act, not model. But this modeling job would help with the rent. She didn't have a job at the Moondance anymore since quitting six weeks ago. But quitting her day job had its advantages.
As if reading her daughter's thoughts, Madeline asked, "How is John doing?"
"He is doing well. He is training somewhere for the next few weeks."
"He seems like a nice young man." Madeline had only met John Jameson recently. Mary Jane had been dating him for about a month.
After John helped her at the Moondance, he asked for her phone number. Which had surprised her. M.J had expected that John would have asked her out. Though, she probably could count on one hand how many females turned down a date down from John Jameson.
Looking around her, Madeline came to a decision. "We made a lot of progress today." She said looking around the cleaner and neater attic. "You can go on with your day after you finish with the books."
Sweeping the attic with a glance, M.J. said, "I said I was going to help today, and there's more that can be done." She didn't want her mom to do more work by herself. Not only that though, M.J. thought something might be wrong. Her mother never said, but Mary Jane could tell that she hadn't been feeling well.
"I think I am going to call it day with the cleaning up here." Her mother said, then sneezed. "I believe all of this dust is getting to me."
Nodding reluctantly, Mary Jane asked, "Cleaning up here, did it tire you out, Mom?"
Madeline laughed softly, "You're too young to be worrying about me, dear."
I started to worry long before now, Mom. Dad surely never did. Mary Jane remembered to hold her tongue in time. Though she didn't let her father control her life now, and they talked every now and again, it was going to be some time until she could think of more kinder thoughts about her father.
Smiling outwardly, so her mother would not wonder what was going through her mind, M.J. said, "Alright, fine. We'll stop for the day. Which doesn't mean you can come back here and clean when I leave."
"Who is the mom, here?" Madeline smiled. "I won't come back up."
Putting the diary on the clean table, Mary Jane walked back to the rest of the books. Picking up the last of them, she walked over to the box. That done, she closed the box and stood up.
"Do you want to something to eat before you go?"
Picking up the diary, her daughter shook her head, no. "I'll just going to catch a cab, and go home."
Her mother nodded. They were quiet as they walked down the stairs to the first floor. After calling for a cab, Mary Jane gave her mother a hug. She thought Madeline felt thinner then she remembered.
M.J. knew better to probe her mom about her health. She'll wait for another day to see if she could get Madeline to go to the doctor.
Stepping out the front door to wait for the taxi, Mary Jane breathed in deeply. The air had a slight chill to it. It was only mid-September, but fall would be early this year. "So much for an Indian summer," she murmured to herself, walking down the front steps.
Sitting on the last step, she looked over the diary in her hands. Opening it to the first page, dated June 17, 1865, Mary Jane began to read.
This is a little strange. I am not use to writing my
thoughts on paper, but I need to write something down.
I don't have anyone I can talk to, no one seems to
But I suppose I should say something about myself? My
name is Anastasia Peterson. I am seventeen, with blonde
hair and hazel eyes. Odd, I feel like I am telling about
myself in a letter to someone I never met.
Why am writing in this diary? I keep asking myself. It
has to do with my father. He wants me to marry Eric, but-
"Good afternoon, Mary Jane."
The red haired young woman glanced up, startled. Looking over to the next house over, M. J. saw May Parker in front of her flower bed, a small garden shovel in her hand.
"I don't think you have much more time with your flowers, Aunt May," she said standing up, the diary forgotten for the moment in her hands. Mary Jane's neighbor wasn't her real aunt, but she and her friends had picked up habit of calling May aunt.
"Yes, I know, dear." May smiled.
Mary Jane smiled in return. It looked like the one person who could call the older woman 'Aunt May' wasn't visiting today.
"How is Peter?" M.J. realized too late that she didn't want ask that question.
Peter Parker. The one person she didn't want to think about. But he still was there in the back of her mind, lurking. And what was worse, she couldn't stop thinking about him.
"He tells me he's doing well," But Aunt May's tone said, she didn't believe her nephew. Any time she talked to Peter, he sounded tired.
"I thought he would try to visit you on Saturdays?"
"Peter does when he can." May understood her nephew's schedule. College, a job, whatever else he did that kept his life in chaos, as well as trying to keep an eye his aunt. "He had to do some pictures for the Bugle today."
A man in red and blue spandex soaring through the air of New York City, popped into Mary Jane's mind. Is Peter taking pictures of some event, or his lens focused on Spider-Man?
"I hope he isn't taking pictures of that Spider-Man person."
M.J. blinked at Aunt May. Did I speak my thoughts out loud? She asked herself.
May continued on, unaware of the younger woman's thoughts. "It's bad enough that there is a…clown putting himself, or whatever he is, in danger, and Peter has risk himself for a photo."
Mary Jane wasn't so sure. She knew that Spider-Man could take care of himself. As for Peter… "I'm sure Peter is careful." Unfortunately she couldn't say more, because her cab stopped at the curb. "I have to go. It was nice talking to you, Aunt May."
"You should come more often. And I will keep an eye on your mother."
Mary Jane stopped. She had wanted to mention her mom, how did Aunt May know?
"Thanks." M.J. smiled at the older woman. She turned back toward the waiting taxi.
"Your welcome, dear." Now if only May could keep an eye on her nephew…she wouldn't have to worry so about him.
I hope everyone liked the first part. This is not finished. I don't how long it is going to take me to update, so you will have to bear with me.
Coming up Part 2 Secrets. Please Review. Jenn