Chapter Text
It had been rough days for everyone in New York City. Especially for Peter Parker.
Gwen Stacy had died right in front of Spider-Man. The hero hadn’t been fast enough to save her—to keep her alive. That moment didn’t just take her life; it took something from him too. Something he wasn’t sure he would ever get back. It was his greatest failure, both as Spider-Man and Peter Parker.
That was the last time anyone ever saw Spider-Man. He vanished without a trace.
No more patrols, no more quiet acts of kindness like Helping old ladies cross the street holding their groceries. No more fights against villains like Rhino or Green Goblin. No more desperate attempts to keep the city together like he always used to do, trying always to make a difference for the people, no matter what.
Spider-Man had disappeared and It was as if he had never existed, as if Spider-Man had been nothing more than a story people told themselves to feel safer. A superhero story to make people feel hope and whatever kind of responsibility Spider-Man represents.
with a great power come a great responsibility
Crime rose steadily across New York, especially in Queens, and the media didn’t hesitate to place the blame on the missing hero. like they always did when something in the city went wrong
Meanwhile, Peter Parker hadn’t left his house in five months. No college classes, no job, no internship at Oscorp—nothing. His world had shrunk to the four walls of his room and the weight pressing constantly against his chest.
He barely left his bed except to grab something to eat, and even then it was only because of Aunt May. He couldn’t leave her alone. He couldn’t fail her too. The rest of his time was spent half-asleep or looking at sealing sinking in self-destruction and depression or sitting in front of his computer, replaying the same video over and over again, her speech, Gwen's graduation speech. He had memorized every word, every pause, every breath, yet it never felt like enough. nothing felt enough after her passing.
Peter took a shaky breath as he sat in his chair, a blanket wrapped around him, and pressed play once again. Gwen started talking, her face full of life and hope and dreams it make him want to just stop right there.
“It’s easy to feel hopeful on a beautiful day like today, but there will be dark days ahead of us too. There will be days where you feel all alone, and that’s when hope is needed most. Keep it alive..”
The words hit him just as hard as the first time. Keep it alive. He hadn’t kept her alive. He hadn’t kept hope alive. He hadn’t even kept Spider-Man alive. Everything she believed in, everything she said, everything she knew him for, felt like something he had already failed. Something he was not worthy of anymore.
“No matter how buried it gets, or how lost you feel, you must promise me that you will hold on to hope and keep it alive. We have to be greater than what we suffer. My wish for you is to become hope. People need that.”
Peter let out a broken breath, his hands tightening around the edge of the desk. He felt like a hypocrite. He had the power therefore the responsibility to do good, to help people, to be something more. And he wasn’t. All he did was sit in his room, watching videos of his dead girlfriend, the girl he hadn’t been good, responsible, enough to save.
Gwen didn’t have powers. She never had that responsibility. And yet she had been the one inspiring people, pushing them toward something brighter, something better. She had believed in a future worth fighting for, in people she didn't even know, in a hope that didn’t depend on masks or abilities like his.
She died because of it. Falling. She fell and died.
“I know that we all think we’re immortal. We’re supposed to feel that way we’re graduating. The future is and should be bright. But, like our brief four years in high school, what makes life valuable is that it doesn’t last forever. What makes it precious is that it ends. I know that now more than ever.”
Peter squeezed his eyes shut. Her life would have been precious without that ending. She didn’t need to die for it to matter. She didn’t need to fall. She was going to be good, she was good. She was very good.
“And I say it today of all days to remind us that time is luck. So don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Make yours count for something. Fight for what matters to you, no matter what. Because even if you fall short, what better way is there to live?”
"She would have never fallen short" Peter whispered to himself, his voice barely audible. She had been too bright, too kind, too good for that. There was nothing about Gwen Stacy that could ever be considered less than extraordinary.
“I know it feels like we’re saying goodbye, but we will carry a piece of each other into everything that we do next, to remind us of who we are, and of who we’re meant to be. I’ve had a great four years with you, and I’ll miss you all very much.”
The video ended, but Peter didn’t move. He just sat there, staring at the screen as if it might start again on its own.
He didn’t need it to start again. He knew every second by heart
And still, it never felt like enough. Nothing felt like enough anymore, not without her at his side. So instead, Peter slowly turned off the computer and stared at the dark screen in front of him. He knew he would carry a piece of Gwen Stacy with him wherever he went whatever his life would become from now on.
It was his punishment.
And his curse.
and he will gladly take it.