Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any of the products mentioned within this document. All rights go to their respective owners.
Summary: "Some things you forget, but other things . . . they change who you are."
Who We Are And What We Were
It's a cold winter day in New York City, but Peter Parker finds most to be. The wind cuts through his coat and disperses against his skin like icy daggers, lapping at his flesh and reddening it the longer he stands still. However, he remains frozen in place, for exactly twenty-two minutes with his dark gaze focused on the lump of stone before him, his fingers flinching against the bouquet of flowers he just picked up along the way. He doesn't even shiver, his body numb, and his mind blank.
When he does move, it's an involuntary action on his part, his lips part and the word 'Gwen' slips off his tongue in such a gentle tone he might as well have not said anything at all. But he does, and it's enough to have reality come crashing down on his shoulders with enough force to cause his knees to buckle and his body to hunch over, trembling.
He reaches a hand up to his face and wipes angrily at the tears threatening to spill. "I know you wouldn't like seeing me like this," he forces out, voice shaking with the pent up emotions he has for the person buried beneath the tombstone before him. "But I can't help it. I let you down . . ." He reaches out and runs his fingers across the engraved letters of Gwen Stacy's name, his heart aching while doing so.
"I miss you so damn much, Gwen."
He recalls the torrent of emotions flashing across her visage as she got closer to the ground, those beautiful blue eyes meeting his, a spark of hope, then - nothing. Absolutely nothing. He was too late in getting to her, the whiplash of her body arching was too much and it was over in a blink. By the time he reached her, which wasn't long, she was already gone, the look of hope that had been in those fiery sapphire irises just moments prior dulled into a pool of lifelessness, and the warmth of her skin fleeting.
All he could do was hold the woman he loved and weep, begging her to stay with him. Of course, it was a futile effort.
Peter pinches the bridge of his nose between the forefinger and thumb of his right hand, a gentle sob escaping his throat.
He never has been good with goodbyes - and probably never will be.
The young man manages to calm himself and takes in a deep breath before licking his dry lips. "This is the third Christmas in a roll without you, Gwen." He pauses to let out a bitter chuckle. "I know you'd expect something witty and sarcastic from me right about now, but I don't have any fuel." He sighs. "I know I was never the best with showing my feelings, at least not in a conventional way. Sometimes I was a complete asshole, but we all have our days, I guess. That and I was just a kid - still am, too."
He bows his head. "All I can think about lately is that last Christmas we shared. I took it for granted - I took you for granted. Especially the little things."
All it took was one look at Peter's ridiculous sweater for Gwen to snort and cuff a hand over her mouth in an attempt to contain a fit of laughter. He gave his girlfriend a pointed look that clearly displayed that he wasn't amused, but it didn't stop the blonde from having her fun. "Laugh it up, blondie," Peter muttered, the corner of his lip flicking up, betraying the irritated act he is trying.
"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head, "really, it's great - it suits you."
Peter arched an eyebrow and briefly looked down at the reindeer on his shirt with a bright nose as if he couldn't remember what was stitched upon it. "I don't know if you're saying the colors bring out my best features or if you're insinuating that I have a runny nose."
Gwen smiled and approached, pushing herself up on her tiptoes while snaking her arms around Peter's neck. She rubbed their noses together, the smile on her face broadening when his hands found purchases upon the rounds of her hips. "How about both?"
"You always did love teasing me, didn't you?" he mumbles fondly, his eyes glazed over with memories that he shares with the beautiful woman who was - and in his mind is - Gwen Stacy. "But it was mutual. We knew right how to get under each other's skin."
"I'm not kissing you in front of your mom, Gwen." Peter deadpanned in a whisper, his mouth hovering centimeters from Gwen's ear, his cheeks as pink as the pig on the Piggly Wiggly sign. Gwen chuckled, her hold tightening on her boyfriend (not that he was complaining for a multitude of reasons).
"It's mistletoe, Peter," she said. "Are you going to defy tradition?" She pulled back, her eyes widening in dramatic fashion and one of her hands flying up to her mouth simultaneously. "Imagine the consequences!"
He narrowed his eyes, exasperated. "Your sarcasm isn't appreciated right now."
Mrs. Stacy took a drink of the red wine in her glass and shook her head. "I'm a fully grown woman, as is Gwen, I know you two kiss, so don't be shy now."
Peter focused back on Gwen. "Is that the liquor talking or is she -"
He was cut off by Gwen smashing her lips against his own. He tensed momentarily before relaxing against her, his eyelids drooping as his mouth moved slowly against hers in a warm, coaxing embrace.
Gwen eventually broke the kiss and pulled away, her hands never leaving his shoulders. "There. Was that really so bad?"
"Actually . . . I'd like seconds," he declared, swooping back in for another kiss.
"I was so lucky to have you in my life," Peter says, his voice cracking and his heart throbbing in his chest. "But I was just a death sentence for you. Nothing more, nothing less." His free hand curls up into a perfect fist. "A damn curse that plagued you."
He thinks back to the day Gwen came into his life - the day he changed - those times he showed up in her window, injured, and she would nurse him back to health - the day he promised Gwen's father that he would leave her out of his life - and the day he broke said promise to keep the one he kept to Gwen herself. He remembers every touch, every kiss, every laugh, and every tear, scream, argument, and takes the positive and the negative and lets them wash over him like a bittersweet breeze.
He allows himself to feel the emptiness that came with losing Gwen and the wholeness he felt when she was with him and lets it cripple him in just that moment, because he's more than just brainiac Peter Parker who has to deal with a plate full of shit. He's more than a young man struggling with the same rat race that every other human being is apart of.
But because he is also Spider-Man, he has to suck it up.
He leaves the flowers at the base of the tombstone.