The Amazing Spiderman – That Which We Can Stand

Peter never thought it would be this hard

After Peter woke up from getting bit by a spider, after all the horrific pain he went through, he set about becoming a superhero, and eventually, so he became, one way or another. His uncle died along the way, Dr. Connors mutated and changed into a monster beyond his wildest nightmares, and Gwen Stacy at last looked back at him (and continued to do so even after her beloved father died in a cold rooftop).

And now... Now she was forever young, forever beautiful, forever– Forever. She had been brave, much braver than him, what with his superpowers and mask, while she was physically so weak, so fragile, though her mind was sharp, agile, and capable of bringing down a demon even Spiderman couldn't dream of defeating by himself.

Gwen Stacy saved New York, and no one would ever know. Peter alone would look out into the city he so loved, that he had worked so hard to protect, and know it stood as it was because one perfect, bright girl had dared run into danger even knowing it might kill her – because she was a hero, the kind of hero people thought Spiderman was, but she was the real hero. Gwen Stacy was the greatest hero New York had ever seen, and Peter wished everyone could know.

"You'd hate what they did to that little bookstore near your place" – Peter softly told her as he sat by her grave – "It's a juice bar now, can you believe it? It's expensive and it's not even that good, or so the comments say. You said it yourself, things are going to hell when bookstores close down for something so empty like a hipster hangout place"

She'd smile at him, laugh with him at the state of affairs of book lovers in New York, then they'd kiss and life would be perfect.

But Gwen was dead, long put to ground to be mourned by her still grieving family, and Peter was left behind, visiting her grave and having no desire or courage to put on his Spiderman costume in order to go out and fight criminals. Why should he go and play hero when he knew who the real hero was? No matter how many robbers he stopped, Gwen would never again scold him for getting hurt, nor praise him for a particularly spectacle performance.

"Do you hate me?" – he whispered, but he couldn't face her headstone – "If it weren't for me, you'd still be here, your dad would still be here. Dr. Connors never would've– And maybe uncle Ben would–" – he chocked back a cry, feeling the weight of all the deaths in the last couple of years – "It's my fault, isn't it? It's all my fault, if I hadn't gone to– If I hadn't–"

For the next several minutes, Peter could only hide his face in his hands and cry all the tears he hadn't allowed himself to cry, for his parents, his aunt and uncle, Dr. Connors, Captain Stacy, Gwen, Harry... And even himself, he cried for the boy who was left behind by his parents, who grew up lonely and isolated, who wanted to become great and ended up only causing misery to all who came too close to him.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, Gwen, I'm sorry I killed you"

Some times, Peter did daydream about the wonderful life Gwen could be leading if she had never deemed him worthy of her notice. Would she have fallen in love with someone else?

Would she be happy? He thought so, because what did he give her other than a dead father and misery? Peter was the worst kind of boyfriend, inconstant and dangerous, especially because he didn't mean to, and love him she did, and die because of him she did. Without him, she'd be alive and well, if he hadn't expressed his love for her just as she had decided to leave New York and him, she'd be across the pond, and whatever longing he felt for her then would be nothing to be soul destroying grief he now felt.

"Did I ever tell you, how much I love you? I don't think I ever did, did I? I'm such an idiot, why didn't I tell you? I should have told you how much you mean to me– How much you meant to me, because you do, Gwen, you mean so much, you are everything, you are– You were the best person I ever knew, and I will keep loving you, I know I will"

At last he touched her name, simply carved onto the stone, and had to wonder if the letters would ever fade away. He hoped not, of course not, but his rational minds whispered that everything returned to dust eventually, Gwen would, her headstone would – and he would.

"I should go now, my aunt is worried I've been spending way too much time here as is, she thinks I'm not coping well with– With– You know" – he looked at her name again and pictured her smiling face, not her as she fell and he failed to catch her – "I'll come back tomorrow, okay? Should I bring flowers? I don't even know what kind of flowers you liked, what a terrible boyfriend, huh? The worst" – he tried to smile.

The wind accompanied him as he walked away, mind trying to move away from his dark thoughts, and Peter vowed to return the next day and brush the leaves and dirt out of Gwen's headstone. No matter what his aunt said, he thought he was coping just fine.

How did someone cope well with a death he caused, anyway?