A/N: This was written after I had seen Spiderman 3 for the 2nd time. The song is Linkin Park's, from their new album, "Minutes To Midnight". It started as slash, really, but I can't write slash to save my life.

WARNING: A/U, ANGST-INCARNATE. Enjoy, and please review!

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Valentine's Day

My insides all turned to ash, so slow

Slow. The second those spears pierced him, the cruel device of his own making, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Like time wasn't moving, jut to taunt me: Here's another one you couldn't save.

And blew away as I collapsed, so cold

He blew away with the wind, the tears still shining in his eyes. It was hard. It was an internal battle; it took me time, but I finally forgave him.

A black wind took them away, from sight

Until the end, he couldn't let go of the feeling of power that the nameless black evil gave him. Gave, and demanded his self in return. I attempted to save him, tried to salvage what I could, but he chose to die with his artificial confidence, the one thing that made him believe in himself.

And held the darkness over day, that night

The dark shadow of that cab, that death trap, was hanging over me constantly. I loved her, loved her with all my heart and soul. I had hurt her; made mistakes – but I wanted her to live.

And the clouds above move closer, looking so dissatisfied

It rained when we buried him. It rained when we buried his father, too. It's like the clouds were mourning with us; they knew all along that the tough exterior was just hiding fear – of rejection, of loss. Like father, like son. Or not.

But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing

He approached me, after I had been battered, like an angel of salvation. I turned to him, he helped me. The wind was blowing in my ears the whole time, keeping me from telling him how I really felt, that he was the best buddy I ever had. I only told him that when he died.

I used to be my own protection, but not now

The invincible; the great; the saintly. I heard their descriptions of me, and so did my ego; it grew accordingly, and hid from me my source of strength, my rock; the one who I truly loved and needed to support. I didn't.

Cause my path had lost direction, somehow

Direction. The way to go, the path to take now, was lost to me. It was hidden from my sight by the blood of my murdered friend and the sand of my forgiven foe. It was hidden by the flash that killed the corrupted innocent and the darkness that followed the harrowing rejection.

A black wind took you away, from sight

Black. I never liked that color, and I never will. It tainted me and ruined me; ruined what I had, ruined what I didn't have, ruined what I disliked, ruined everything.

And held the darkness over day, that night

That night was darker than any night, any day, any time. A blameless man was lost, a victim of circumstance and human nature was absolved – and a dear friend was gone. Three things that changed me.

And the clouds above move closer, looking so dissatisfied

The rain clouds at his burial gathered; the father and son that they saw being buried wasn't enough, they wanted more. I was more than happy to offer myself, but they declined. Why?

And the ground below grew colder as they put you down inside

And now, 20 years later, I watch another burial. The cold February wind blows and the rain clouds gather again, to watch my sorrow and pain. Outside I am acting as any mourner might act, but inside I am dead. Ash has no feelings.

But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing

Leaves rustle. Grass moves with the cool wind. The breeze chills the ground, the tears on the gathered people's cheeks, my hands as I lay a pure white rose on your freshly turned grave. There is no warmth left in the world for me. It is deep in the ground, with my best friend and the only woman I had ever loved.

So now you're gone, and I was wrong

I thought that 20 years of peace and quiet, loving companionship, would be enough. (I was wrong. An eternity with her would not be enough for me.) I thought that children would be running beneath our feet constantly, but they didn't. (The doctor said it was you, but I blamed myself.) I thought that anything could get us through your sickness, that only a simple surgical procedure would save you. (I was wrong. Nothing could save you by the time the doctor told you about the tumor.)

I never knew what it was like, to be alone

On a Valentine's Day

I stare at your headstone, after everyone had gone. Only then, only when I am truly alone in this world, do I allow the tears to blur my vision.

Mary Jane Watson-Parker

Loving wife and friend

Died on the 14th of February

RIP

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Comments? Concrit? All is welcome!

-Gabrielle