Title: Missing
Author: IndigoNight
Summary: All Peter wants is forgiveness and love. But will it find him before he's gone?
Feedback: Yes please, yay reviews!
Pairing: Harry/Peter
Disclaimer: I do not own Spiderman or the characters I'm just borrowing them for fun.
Spoilers: Nope, not really
Rating: PG-13 for somewhat graphic gore.
Warnings: Slash, don't like, don't read, character death.
Author's Note: Just some random emo-ness I came up with. Please review!
Enjoy!
Please, please forgive me
But I won't be home again
I'm sorry, Harry, more sorry than you could ever know. It wasn't supposed to happen this way, I never planned it.
But I knew, that day, as the hate, which flowed from your eyes when you saw me with his body, pierced me, I knew that I had sealed our fate.
At first I tried to pretend. I lied to myself, told myself that it was Spiderman, not me whom you hated. That was foolish, for as much as I sometimes hate it, I am Spiderman.
'My only love, sprung from my only hate,' who was it who said that? Shakespeare? Well, boy was he right.
No matter how many times I begged for your forgiveness, you never gave it to me. Maybe I don't deserve it. But I can't live knowing your eyes follow me with hate, knowing that you want nothing more than to see me dead.
You won't cry for my absence I know
You forgot me long ago
Do you even remember the Peter Parker from high school? Do you remember? Or has your mind been so twisted by hate that you aren't even the man I knew then? I can't tell anymore. I don't know you anymore.
But I love you all the same. And I always will.
Isn't something missing?
Maybe one day you will remember. You'll think of the gangly kid you used to protect from the bullies, then bully into doing your homework for you. Maybe you'll remember the time we spent together. Maybe you'll miss me, once I'm gone.
Isn't someone missing me?
But it won't matter to me if you do, because I won't be there to know. I won't see it if you cry for me, though I doubt you will
Even though I'm the sacrifice
You won't try for me, not now
But that doesn't matter now, nothing matters now. As I lay here, beaten and bloody, I gaze up. I can see your bedroom window, so high above my head.
I am bound, entirely helpless to move, tied by my own web, how he managed that, I will never know. He looms over me, knife glinting in the moonlight.
I don't know his name, I don't know who he is. All I know is that he is about to kill me. I cry out as his knife digs once more into my flesh, tearing it from collarbone to waist. My vision blurs, blood flowing into my eyes.
I wanted your forgiveness, I wanted your love. But now I've lost, and I'll never even get the chance to see you again.
I can feel the life draining from me as the knife digs deeper. How this fight even began has long since left my mind now. Can you hear us? Way up there in your plush existence of hatred for me, can you hear my muffled cries as he kills me? Do you even care?
Will you be angry that someone else has stolen your prize from you? Will you care at all?
Though I'd die to know you loved me
I'm all alone
I'm all alone. Even my killer has gone now, left me for dead. I will not last much longer now. I lay helpless in a puddle of my own blood, my bonds being useless now as I have not the strength to move anyway.
I don't want to die, I think, as I stare up, imagining you above me, oblivious. I want to be up there, once more begging your forgiveness. I just want to see your face once more. I must see your face once more…
But I have no strength. I try, I struggle to move, to stand, to come to you. I cry out with the effort, and fall back, helpless, useless, lost.
My vision is going black, I am floating away.
"Peter? Peter!" I'm imagining things, I must be. I see your face, hovering, blurry around the edges as the world fades around me. I hear you, calling my name, feel you shaking me, telling me to hold on. That is what convinces me that this isn't real. The real you would never look at me like that, not anymore.
As I fade, I remember a time, long ago in the forgotten past. Before Spiderman, before The Green Goblin, before everything. In high school, when we were still innocent. We were playing basketball, and I'd gotten hit in the head with the ball. You called my name then too, shook me, held me just like this.
You had been laughing then. It was funny, a joke. Clumsy Parker had gotten in the way of the ball. But you aren't laughing now. You're… crying?
"Peter!" you call, and I feel the tears splashing onto my face, "Peter! Stay with me! Hold on!"
"Harry," I whisper. My lips are bleeding, they hurt, everything's bleeding, I cannot even feel pain anymore. The world is fading around me and I cling desperately to you, unwilling to let you go, "P-Please, forgive me."
"I do," you murmur, holding me closer, "I should have long ago. I understand now. I found his lab, I know what he did. Just don't leave me, Peter, don't-"
"I'm sorry," I whisper, reaching up, trying to touch your face, but I'm too weak, "I love you." I say that with my last breath, you had to know.
Then I float away, your cries of, "No! Peter, I love you too. Don't leave, don't leave me! Peter! No!" following me, following me, until I'm gone.
Isn't something missing?
Isn't something…