When Two Are One, a spider-man fanfic

Disclaimer: Sadly, i don' t own Spider-Man. Marvel does. But i would love to. The only Spidey things that i own are the movies and one short comic. And i don't own Atreyu (Quite obvious, It's illegal to own people.) I also don't own their song, "When Two Are One". But i have played it on guitar, not that that changes much. I own nothing... Hell, i don't even own this text, Microsoft does...Bit depressing when you think 'bout it, eh?

A.N: I am so surprised that I'm not dead yet. It's like 11:00 at night, and It's taken forever to type this up. I kind of wanted to type up what Peter would be going through after i re-watched the first movie. Oh, and I am 99 sure that these lyrics are correct, because they came from the Atreyu booklet thing in the CD case. I'm only saying 99 because Hollywood Records could've made a typo (It's human nature). Anyway, enjoy...

When I look into her hazel eyes, I just can't help but pity her. The sad thing is that I know she's pitying me back, god knows it. Before I can stop myself, I can feel my gaze drifting to her gorgeous face, taking in her most amazing features. I want so much to look away, because I now that it is forbidden, but I can't seem to keep my eyes off of her. I never could, even in the first grade. I try to look away; I don't want to give MJ the wrong idea. But my eyes won't obey my commands, and I don't know if it was out of sorrow, or just because she's an angel. I just don't know anymore.

Mary-Jane Watson, so much more than I can ever hope to be. Heck, she's more than I can even begin to comprehend. I just love her so much, and that's why I have to go. I can only hurt her, in this world of fantasy. And she needs a real life, not something out of a Children's book. She needs a regular man, not a super-hero. She doesn't need a Peter Parker to ruin her dreams.

She pulls her hand off of my face, and I can see the hatred boiling up in her eyes, the eyes that could tell the most amazing stories. It's nothing but hatred and confusion because she doesn't know my secret, nobody does. And I can't tell her either, because 1, she wouldn't believe me, and 2, that could cause her to have problems. Problems with the criminals and the super-villains alike. I can't have that on my consciousness, because that would be a sin of utmost temptation. And my responsibility is to ignore those thoughts as much as possible.

Proving myself a real man, I gather up enough courage to move my feet, and try to walk away. This was the first problem that I've ever walked away from, and hopefully the last time I would ever have to do so. MJ's agony was all my fault anyway.

Bang!

Explosions in my head that just won't quit.

A train has crashed into a wall around my heart and left the old me dead.

Obliterated.

Stop!

My breathing in the night when you're not there.

The silence ringing through my ears.

And all I want to do is hear your voice,

But you're not there.

After going maybe ten feet south, I started to hear muffled sobs. I so badly wanted to turn and comfort her, hold her and tell her that this was some kind of nasty joke that Harry and I had planned. But I couldn't do that and lie to her, since this whole mess was my fault anyway. I could only hope for her forgiveness.

I start to ask myself what I could've done differently, how I could've spared us from this horrid fate. Though I soon realized that at this point in time, nothing could be done, I had already caused the damage. I'm like the harbinger of calamity myself, and sadly there's nothing that can be done about it.

Drawn together,

Painter's brush stroke.

Sleight of hand,

We won't go up in smoke.

Fates colliding,

Love undying.

Like the rising tide,

Beating hearts grow but never die.

To simplify.

I'll stand by your side,

Close my eyes,

Hope we'll never die.

As I get into the cab, I can't help but feel uncomfortable. Aunt May was there with me, and I have a feeling that she knows something, quite obvious due to her facial expressions. I can always tell with that look, that friendly almost-glare. I have a sudden urge to look out the window at the woman that will never be mine, can never be mine. But somehow I know that she is still staring at me, my spider-sense alerts me to those kinds of things. And I just want her to look away so that I can take in her features one last time, to take in her almost perfect face. It almost makes me jealous, almost.

As we finally pull out of the cemetery parking lot, I can finally rest my head against the cool glass window of the cab. Though it was very uncomfortable indeed. Oh well, I did deserve it. And today was the blackest of all days. It hurt so badly, for me anyway. I really don't want to know how much pain I have inflicted upon her, I don't need to repent over it.

I really would have gone out with her; I still would, if it wasn't for my enemies. They would torture her, or kill her f they knew that we were involved, I couldn't let that happen. And Mr. Osborne had kindly showed me that he wasn't afraid of taking Mary-Jane away, and throwing her off the tallest bridge in New York. If it wasn't for the bridge thing, I might have accepted her love for me. But I can't love her, and just be her friend, she won't want that. And actually, neither will I.

Go!

Take away the pain of being me.

Soothe my soul,

Caress my heart,

And end my fear all my bad memories.

Eradicated,

Ring!

Like gunshots heard against a silent night.

My love is louder than these words.

They're stronger than the rest,

Unstoppable!

And as I stare out the window of the cab, I can almost see MJ in the mist outside, accompanied by newly falling rain. They remind me of Mary-Jane's tears, and I almost look away. But then I remind myself that if I can't look at the rain, I won't be able to function in this world. Even my own fantasy paradise won't equal this. I can't just keep hiding.

So I buck up and look outside, still vaguely seeing MJ in the mist. Then quite unexpectedly I remember a quote even more useful then that of Poe or Shakespeare; my uncle's. The day of his death he told me that 'great power means great responsibility', and I will always remember those words of wisdom. That's why I can't be with MJ, because I'm responsible for what I do. I'm responsible for what I do to myself, my family, and even my friends. Hell, I am even responsible for the fate of New York, and that's something major.

I smile slightly as we get close to my Aunt's place, knowing that I'll be doing my duty as long as my body can still function under its own power. That I can continue to help people because it's the right thing to do, because im their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. A man with responsibilities, who puts others before himself. Someone that has stared death in the face, and has overcome it. Someone like Peter Parker.

"I'm sorry Mary-Jane" I whisper to the mist, a tear sliding down my pale cheek, the mist slowly but surely evaporating. "That's all I have to give, nothing more. I will always be your friend, I promise."