Spider-Man Imagines I

Give Thanks | Peter Parker [TH]

Losing a family member so near to the holidays was difficult beyond words for you and Peter. He knew grief well, and seeing that kind of emotion in your eyes was heartbreaking.

He loved you, even if he never had the courage to tell you that. You were his best friend - and he'd be lying if he hadn't thought of you in romantic ways, too. But loving someone meant you hurt when they did, and that you would do anything to keep them from feeling that kind of pain again.

And so Peter proposed that you come with him for Thanksgiving. And, as expected, you took in a deep breath and started with a tired, "Peter..."

"You don't have to decide for a while," he said. "You have a few days. I just... May and I are having dinner with Mr. Stark and his fiancee, Pepper, and I asked if there was room for one more, and he said yes." He smiled softly. "I know holidays are the last things you even want to think about right now, but you have options."

You looked down, eyes blinking as you stared at your lunch tray. "We aren't having Thanksgiving this year," you said bleakly.

He frowned. "I know."

"Was it like this?" you asked. "When your uncle passed... did it feel like this?" You touched a hand to your chest, which had been heavy and hurting for days straight.

"Yeah," he breathed. His eyes felt a little wet as he took in your hopeless face. "It did. But, hey-" He placed a hand on your arm. "___, it does get easier. Give yourself time. You're strong, ___. I know you can get through this."

You looked up at him, eyes searching his, as if you were thinking he was lying. But he didn't look away and you found yourself nodding, lips pressed together.

"I'll go, Peter," you whispered.

He couldn't help but smile. "Yeah?"

"But if I can't-" You couldn't finish, and you didn't have to. Peter knew.

"We'll leave," he promised. "I can take you home or we can get some fast food and watch some Netflix at my place, no Thankgiving at all."

"You'd do that for me?" you said, smiling a little.

I'd do anything for you, he thought. But he settled for just a quick nod and a quiet, "Yeah. Of course."

And you smiled a little bigger.

...

On Thanksgiving day, Aunt May drove her car to your house. Peter was excited and nervous, hoping that you felt good enough to come.

"We should have had our own Thanksgiving," she said. "I fried a turkey last year-"

"Yeah, and it was gross," he reminded her.

She shot him a look. "What kind of aunt am I if I can't even make my family a nice pan of stuffing without burning the bread and forgetting the vegetables?" she frowned. "Ben was such a good cook."

Peter looked out the window. "And you're a good aunt, even if your cooking sucks."

"Hey," she said, "Ben loved my meatloaf!"

"Sure he did," he said sarcastically.

"He did!"

"Uh-huh..."

They both laughed, a hint of sadness mixed in, but they laughed, which was more than you could do right now.

Peter was serious again as May turned into your neighborhood. "Don't mention him today, okay? I just... don't want to risk her being hurt more than she is already."