I literally JUST saw TASM2. I am still crying. Just my thoughts on it I guess.
Peter was lonely. That word seemed to follow him everywhere. It was only silence that seemed to keep his company. He felt as if he'd been pulled under the water and had nothing to pull him back up. Just sinking. Alone. In silence. He was tired of the silence. So he stood from his normal spot on his bed, and switched on the radio.
*We have a robber on 75th street, and is currently west bound in a white-*
He quickly switched it to a random channel, hoping to not be reminded of himself. His pitiful self. He slumped back down on his bed, letting the commercials fill his lonely world in a white noise. He lost himself in thought, his mind drawing its attention away from the dull drone of the radio as it purged to things beyond the world he was sitting in. Peter found himself gazing at the pictures of Gwen he had on his wall and desk. She had been perfect, even when she was frozen in a void of nothingness.
'Say something I'm giving up on you.
I'll be the one if you want me to.'
Peter's mind jerked back to reality as he shot a glance at the radio. The song had a sad ring to it, almost mourning. Almost how he felt. It was how he felt. He had wanted her to be his, one him to be hers. He wanted to be with her. He would have given anything to be with her right then.
'Anywhere, I would have followed you.
Say something I'm giving up on you.'
He would have followed her anywhere. Peter would have followed her everywhere. He had even been planning on following her to England. He couldn't be without Gwen.
'And I, am feeling so small;
it was over my head.
I know nothing at all.'
It had been, Peter agreed with himself. It had been way over his head. He hadn't loved someone so much, and he had let it flood him. And it ended too fast. Much to fast. And he had been left in the shell of it, wobbling on the edge and peering down in hope that she'd come back. But she wouldn't.
'And I, will stumble and fall;
I'm still learning to love,
just starting to crawl.'
Gwen had taught him how to love. It had been a breathtaking thing, his glue when everything was falling apart. She had been there to help him, to open her window and smile and hug him. He missed her smile. The way her face lit up like Christmas lights when he said something that made her laugh. The way she laughed, like the sound of bells. The way she would absentmindedly rub her nose. The little things she would do, like the way she would cuddle with him thoughtlessly, or kiss him on the cheek before leaving. She had been the one to catch him when he fell, to heal him when he was wounded.
'Say something I'm giving up on you.
I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.
Anywhere I would have followed you.
Say something I'm giving up on you.'
He was sorry. He couldn't explain in any form how sorry he was. He couldn't make it in time. Just one split second in time. That's all it would've taken.
'And I, will swollow my pride.
Your the one that I love,
and I'm saying goodbye.'
His memory flashed back to that fateful night.
"Stay with me, stay with me." Peter had cried.
She was limp, unmoving, but still just as beautiful as he remembered. Her hair was done up in curls, and spread lazily about the floor.
"Stay with me, stay with me. Stay with me." He tried again.
She remained as such, the full moon filtering silver beams onto her face, making her seem to glow. A red line drew from her nose to her face, ad Peter's stomach dropped. He cried, his face battered and bruised compared to her still perfect one.
He couldn't say goodbye, not to Gwen.
'Say something I'm giving up on you.I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.
Anywhere I would have followed you.
Say something I'm giving up on you.'
Peter was in an indescribable pain. His leg had been twisted quite far, and his foot was being crushed in the gears of the clock. He managed to push Harry to the side, and pull his foot out. The web holding Gwen snapped, and she fell. Peter jumped, his arms stretched out as far as it could go, willing himself to go faster. Then he shot the web. It shot through the gears and metal pieces of the collapsing clock and grabbed her. A split second to late. He could hear the resounding 'crack' as her head hit the concrete. He couldn't bring himself to believe the inevitable. He just couldn't.
'Say something I'm giving up on you.'
But Peter couldn't give up. He couldn't. He kept believing that one day, one day he'd see her smile and hear her laugh again. That she would walk from behind her gravestone while he was visiting and hug him, and walk home with him. But it was a fruitless hope, and he knew it. His heart sunk to the ground. She wasn't coming back. He closed his eyes as the music slowed down more, a piano playing quietly. Gwen had liked piano music.
'Say something...'
The song ended and he switched of the radio. He could almost feel her there with him, telling him to go and do what he hadn't done in a while. He hadn't been Spider-man for five months. Suddenly he felt the base of his brain tingle lightly. It wasn't threatening. Then he heard something, though only hardly.
'I love you.'
Those words seemed to float through the air in symphony. It was a barely audible whisper. Peter's head snapped through the air, trying to find the source of the noise. There was nothing, just the wind blowing the curtains lightly. He whirled around again just as a picture fell of the wall and hit the floor with a light crackle. That second he was scared. He looked at the picture. It was him and Gwen, curled up comfortably on a mattress, an early sunlight lighting the pair up. Gwen was snuggled by Peter's chest, and his chin rested on her head. He looked at it, remembering the day. He held it up, and light filtered through. Something caught his eye. He flipped it over, and saw a small note scribbled on the back.
Do what you do best. -Someone Close
Peter smiled as he slipped it into a frame, and directed his attention to his closet. He was ready to do what he did best. Be Spider-man.