~Iron Family~

With Great Ability Comes Great Accountability

Peter's vision was white. He glanced around him, but there was nothing to look at.

It was an endless void.

He didn't feel any pain--he felt strong and energized. He looked at his hands, which weren't bloody or scratched. In fact, old scars he'd had for years had disappeared. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt under his old hoodie, which wasn't ripped anymore.

He took an uncertain step forward. There was a field of grass beyond the white void, a lush carpet of green speckled with bright yellow daffodils. It stopped abruptly at the white void by his feet, almost as if it had hit a wall.

A soft breeze tickled his face, which made the yellow flowers dance and wave at him.

Out of the endless bright light, four people walked toward him. There were two girls and two boys. They each held hands with someone. The pair on the right looked more familiar than the pair on the left.

It was hard to tell from here, but Peter knew who they were.

His parents.

His aunt and uncle.

Tears streamed down his face. He fell to his knees as he watched them approaching together, shaking with joy, grief, and sadness.

They stopped a little ways away from him. The woman on the right reached out her arm as if she couldn't reach him.

"A--Aunt May?" Peter choked. His voice was eerily smooth and clear, echoing through the void.

"We can't reach you," her soft voice whispered in his ear as if she were right next to him. "But we wanted to tell you how much we miss you."

"We love you so much, Peter," his mother's voice said.

After a few moments of awkward silence, his father cleared his throat.

"Death was...an interesting choice," he mused.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked, panic rising in his chest. "You mean I'm really..." He was unable to bring himself to say it.

"Not yet," Ben's voice boomed as if he were calling to Peter from across the living room when they watched baseball. His silhouette crossed his arms.

"You're hanging in the balance," May explained. Her voice continued to tickle his ear, as if she were tucking him in at night and promising to see him in the morning.

"'Hanging in the balance?' What do you mean?"

"You've done great things," Ben's voice said, skirting the topic. "You've truly taken the statement 'with great power comes great responsibility' and made it your own. I'm so proud of you, Pete."

"But--but what's going to happen to me now?" Peter asked, trying to keep his voice from sounding like a frustrated five year-old's. "I don't want to be left here alone. I want to come with you!"

Aunt May stepped forward, making herself clearer. Peter saw her lip trembling. She crouched down and inched closer, reaching her hand as far as she could. Her fingertips hesitated on the edge of the wall where the void started and the field ended.

"May," Ben warned sternly. She ignored him.

As soon as her warm hand made contact with Peter's cheek, a burst of love and affection washed over him. It was as if she were sending him telepathic emotions. He didn't notice the tears until they dripped past his chin.

"I want you to come too," she choked. Her eyes were glassy with tears and her voice trembled so much, Peter found it hard to make out what she was saying. "It's not your time yet."

"But--but my dad said--"

"No matter what Rick said." May's eyes twinkled with humor. "He's just looking out for you, he always has."

"He left me," Peter growled, continuing to drink in the warmth of May's hand pressed against his cheek. "You and Ben were the only ones to ever care about me."

"Peter," she whispered, knitting her eyebrows in confusion. "Your parents love you. And you and I may not be related by blood, but I love you more than you will ever know. Because we aren't tied by blood--we're tied by love."

"But--but--"

"You can make a choice," his mother's voice echoed, full of fondness and grief for her little boy. "You can choose to remain here with us, learn the secrets of our past and your life."

Peter gazed at his family, trying to force down his emotions. He went to take a deep breath to calm himself, but it slipped right over him. He tried again, but it was like trying to grasp a wet bar of soap. Apparently you didn't need oxygen here.

"Or you can choose to return to your family," May offered. Her big brown eyes glistened, full of so much more life than they had ever on Earth. "Help them. Comfort them. They need you, Peter."

"But you are my family!" Peter protested.

"Family is more than blood," his father said, which was probably the most he'd talked during this freaky dream. "Family are the people that care for you, who love you just as deeply as you love them. Don't you feel that way about the Starks?"

"I--I guess," Peter struggled to admit. "But that doesn't mean anything! You all are more important."

"Are we?" May gave him a sad smile. "Peter, we'll never stop loving you, but we've learned to let you spread your wings, to move on and let go. You should too."

"You have the rest of your life ahead of you," Ben commented. "Who's going to be the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man? Who's going to continue to go to Mets games? Who will play with Morgan every night before bed, or chase Harley around after he's said something stupid?"

"I..." Peter gulped. "I guess you have a point."

"Peter, it's a choice. But know this: each of us would have loved to have this choice, the choice to return to be with the boy we love and be there as he grew up."

Peter shook with silent sobs, staring at May's hands that squeezed his. He didn't want to leave her again.

But his family needed him.

He opened his mouth, unsure of how to say his choice out loud, but they seemed to understand.

"We love you," his mother whispered. Peter tried to grab Aunt May's hand, but the white void was slipping away.

Peter closed his eyes and sank back into the real world of pain, loss, war, and death.

But everyone seemed to forget it was also a world of peace, love, joy, and life. You just had to know where to look.

He sank back into the real world, where his new family would be waiting.