Author's Note: This oneshot takes place immediately following the end of The Amazing Spiderman 2. I would love any feedback you, the users of the internet, would be willing to give me!
{Disclaimer: Certain elements of this work (including but not limited to: characters, backstory, and setting) belong to Marvel and its affiliated companies. I do not own them.}
As soon as it's over, he runs.
He had been operating on adrenaline, but he can barely stand up now. He feels like a rock settled in his gut. It had been stupid; he shouldn't have gone. His one consoling thought is 'At least that kid is safe.'
It doesn't take him too long to change into regular clothes and swing to the cemetery. All in all, he gets there less than half an hour after the battle with the giant rhino. He body screams from the bruises, but he ignores it. He should never have gone anyways.
He darts through the gate like he has no time to spare – he really doesn't. He ends up collapsing in front of her tombstone, legs crossed like a child's. Tears sting at his long eyelashes, but he blinks them away before they can fall. He crumples the mask that he didn't know he had been holding until it is just a red lump in his pale hands. The sky has quickly clouded over in the time it took him to get there.
"I'm sorry," he gasps out awkwardly, because really, he could never be anything else with her. His mind races with everything that he's apologizing for, but he doesn't expand on it. He has already said the two words to her so many times that he is sure that by now she understands. That is, she would understand.
He isn't sure how long he sits there. Long enough that the damp grass lends its moisture to his dark wash jeans, and he still sits. Sirens ring out a few blocks away. He can't bring himself to care.
He suddenly remembers that he should be paying better attention to his surroundings when he doesn't hear footsteps. Instead, a soft voice. "Peter?" she asks, for it is clearly a girl by the sound of her voice. He turns to look at her. In the growing darkness, she looks familiar, but he can't place her. She smiles at him sadly, then moves towards him. He turns back to the headstone and assumes he must have seen her at the funeral. At the last second, he starts to shove the mask he had forgotten about into his hoodie.
She laughs slightly, but it isn't until she speaks that he knows who she is. "You don't have to hide with me, Tiger," she reassures him softly. It's the nickname he recognizes, because she had changed so much that even her voice sounds different. Mary Jane Watson. Years before, when his parents had left him, he had met MJ; her family lived next to his aunt and uncle. Her family had moved out of New York the year they'd both turned thirteen. Thanks to her, he had grown up hearing about Gwen. MJ would always talk about her amazing cousin Gwen Stacy. He had just forgotten.
Peter lets the mask fall back into his lap, wrinkling it through his hands again. He tries to ask, but he has to clear his throat first to get the lump in it to fade. "How did you know?" he finally gets out. His voice sounds scratchy in the chilly evening.
He doesn't look up to see MJ's face, but he can practically feel her smile, just like he could all those years ago. Back when they were friends. When his parents were gone, but other than that, the world had been perfect. She kneels in the grass next to him. "I moved back a few months ago," she starts. "Peter Parker basically disappeared, and no one had heard from Spiderman in ages. Both started when she died," she says him calmly, nodding towards Gwen's name on the stone.
Peter feels himself stiffen at her seemingly uncaring attitude. But this is Mary Jane. MJ who he's known since childhood. MJ who was a bright patch of sunshine when he'd been struggling with being abandoned. MJ who had lost maybe more than he had (at least in terms of family), because at least he didn't have an abusive father. MJ who lost her cousin just like he had lost the love of his life.
"And you were always the heroic type," she continues.
"I'm not a hero," he mutters just as his chest tightens. Because he isn't. He doesn't see himself that way. "I killed her, you know. I thought I could save her, and then-" He cuts himself off. He has to stop talking. He hasn't seen or spoken to MJ in years; why would she care?
"Pete," MJ sighs, then he feels her hand rest on his shoulder. He looks up at her long enough to see the sad look in her eyes, but there wasn't a trace of pity. "That's not true," she says, and he's heard it a dozen times but not once has it sounded as convincing as when she tells him. Not that he believes her. "You didn't kill Gwen any more than I did. You know I didn't come to the funeral because I felt guilty?" Peter doesn't answer. What could she possibly be guilty for? She hadn't even been in New York when Gwen died. MJ goes on, "After my family first moved, Gwen and I emailed every day. Well, the longer I was gone, the less we kept in touch. It was almost a year that I had talked to her last before she died. And I just…" Her voice trails off and he hears the emotion quivering in her ragged breath. "I thought that maybe if I had just…been there for her, you know?"
MJ stops talking then. Peter knows exactly what she is saying, but more in the literal sense. If only he had been there. Three feet closer and he could have grabbed her. If only he had been there. All that time when she was mourning her father, and he had stayed away because of a promise he'd never actually made.
MJ sniffs and moves her hand away from his shoulder "So. The last email I had from Gwen," she says, and her voice sounds off now. "I never responded. I got busy. Excuses." Peter turns his head and squints into her green eyes. MJ offers him a small, though genuine, smile. "She talked about you. She…" MJ hesitates. "She really loved you, I think." The last sentence is quiet, honest.
Peter takes a deep breath and stares at Gwen's name on the stone. Again, he had heard it before. Everyone said that Gwen had loved him, Gwen would want him to move on with his life, Gwen hadn't died for nothing. It was all meaningless. He wants to scream that into MJ's face so she would leave him alone, but all at the same time he needs her to keep talking to him because when she speaks, he believes her.
"MJ," he finally says, "I don't think she would have been there if she didn't." It's a revelation that he didn't even know he had until that moment. Because Gwen wouldn't have come to help him defeat Electro if she had not loved him. She had known it was going to be dangerous, and she had helped him anyways. "And I," he chokes on the last part, but he has to get it out. "I really loved her too."
The cemetery is quiet again because MJ doesn't answer. Instead she just grabs his hand and holds it in a show of support. He squeezes, once, just like when they were kids. He doesn't have to wonder if she remembers when she squeezes back.