Spiderson Oneshots

Beautiful--Natasha and the Avengers

Warnings: Character suicide

Pairing: Kind of Natasha x Bruce at the end

Natasha's P.O.V.

In this world, a beautiful soul is a difficult one to find. Beautiful souls are buried beneath chains and protected by lock and key. They are hidden and camouflaged. Yet, beautiful souls glow. Underneath their bonds and their camouflage, the beauty that they hold cannot help but burst forth. Those of us with keen eyes can see it.

But Peter, his camouflage was unable to hide his beautiful soul. He was kind to us who had done wrong in our lives. He was kind to everyone he met, and everyone could not help but smile when they saw him.

I don't think there could have been a more beautiful soul than his. He was a ball of joy. He made all of us want to be better. He was the sun in our lives, providing light for all of us. He was the center of our universe.

Peter didn't bother to hold back his want to help. He was always asking 'what else can I do?' and 'how are you feeling?' He knew the pain we had. He wanted to take away our pain. I wanted nothing more than to keep his pain away.

But how do you help someone who won't accept it? Whenever we asked what was wrong, he'd shrug it away. He'd change the subject. At the time, we pushed it away as hormones. We were adults who hadn't gone through what he had, how were we to know? I would give anything to go back and ask one more time.

I'll never understand why he did what he did. I thought we were doing okay; that we were being supportive. I thought he would've come to us. Thought that he'd want to talk about it.

I should've known better. I didn't want to talk about my pain, why would he talk about his? I thought because he had someone to talk to that he would take that opportunity. I never had that opportunity, and maybe that's why I don't understand.

Growing up, I had gone through so much--some would call it torture, and it was. But I thought it was just making me stronger. I felt that because I had no one, it wouldn't matter if I lived or died. So I lived for me. I didn't care what people thought. Until Peter. All I wanted was for him to like me, to see that I wasn't just an assassin. He made me want to be better. For the first time in my life, I did something--bettered myself--for him. I just wish he were here to see it.

I think that having us didn't help. He didn't see the opportunities that we provided because he didn't want to. He wanted to believe that we hated him because I think that made it seem easier. I don't think he wanted to be here. He was alone except for his aunt, living without parents, then an uncle, at such a young age. He didn't want to be here because he was too good for us. His heart was too pure; his soul was too beautiful. He wanted to leave early because this wasn't his home--no matter how much we wanted it.

Peter reminds me of the saying 'beauty is pain.' His soul was beautiful, but there was a cost. He lived in so much pain. Someone that young shouldn't have gone that early.

I don't think anyone will forget him. He impacted us all. He made us all want to be better. We will continue to be better for him. When we meet again, we'll all have so much to show him. We'll show him that he wasn't forgotten, that he was missed. We'll show him that none of us could live without doing good as he did.

I continue to search for a reason why. What drove him to what he did? But most of all, why did we not see it? I think that will always be a source of guilt for us.

I speak to you now, Peter. You will be missed. You are and will always be loved. I can't wait to see you again. Peter, I want you to know that we cared. We do care and will always care.

When I was little, I never believed when people said that love was endless. I'd never been shown much love in my life. It was all pain. But now, I believe it. I believe it so much that it hurts. Because my--our--love for Peter was endless. It crosses the boundary between our worlds. We'll never stop. He was the light that led us through the darkness. He was the fire that we huddled about for warmth. We never would've done the good we've done without him.

I didn't think it was fair: I got to live while this beautiful boy had to go. But I think I understand. We stay because we have to learn how to truly love, how to be the best we can be. Peter didn't need to stay, because he's known that all his life. I believe this should be a celebration--a celebration of the life that he had. A celebration of how good he is.

Peter, you beautiful boy, we'll never forget you. We'll love and treasure you forever. Our love is endless, and though our time was not, I am happy that the time we had was happy. I'll never be over you--I don't think anyone will--but we'll go on. Just know that it's for you. Everything was always for you. And that's how it will always be. Forevermore.

---~---~---

I was crying. The tears were rolling down my cheeks and falling to my wrists, gliding down my fingers to the keys of the laptop. I wanted to scream, wanted to hurt myself, wanted to do something that wasn't this. He was like my son. No mother should ever have to write this for their child. Mothers aren't supposed to outlive their children. Mothers aren't supposed to speak at their child's final goodbye.

I never thought that I'd love anyone--platonically or romantically. I was meant to kill. That was the pain I went through was for--so I wouldn't love. But that beautiful soul had changed my mind. I just wished that the payment for the pain I'd caused wasn't his life. Why did he have to die? It should've been me.

---~---~---

"Can I read this for you?" I didn't want to talk, and my voice showed that. My voice was hoarse like it was after you had cried all your tears.

"Go ahead, Natasha. We'll all listen," Steve said. The others piled onto the couch, but it wasn't as crowded as it used to be. There was Peter's space, left open by all the others out of habit. Everyone stared up at me, and I breathed in. I pulled myself together although I had no tears left to cry.

"'In this world, a beautiful soul is a difficult one to find...." I stared at the paper in my hands, wrinkled and flimsy. I read it, knowing the words almost by heart. I didn't stop, afraid that if I did, I'd break. I heard the others crying--sniffles here and choked sobs there.

"You have to read that. It's what he would have wanted," Steve said, speaking for everyone.

"I wish it wasn't," I said.

Bruce had me in his arms in an instant. "We all do. But we have to be strong." I nodded, burying my head in his shoulder. I didn't care what the others thought at this point. Now, it was about Peter. To my surprise, I felt arms around us, hearing the creaking of the couches and the addition of body heat.

I opened my eyes for a moment, seeing everyone around us. But what surprised me most was in the distance was Peter. He was transparent, his body glowing gold. He smiled and waved, and I waved back. 'Be strong,' he mouthed. I buried my head in Bruce's shoulder again, letting the tiny candle that I'd locked away be lit once again. Hope was its name, and bright it would burn for as long as I lived.