Spiderson Oneshots

Take Me as I Am--Peter

Warnings: Character death, language

Peter's P.O.V.

It hurts like hell to wait for someone to come back who never will. You're sitting their, legs crossed, hope shining in your eyes, waiting, waiting, for the moment when you'll see them in your line of sight. You'll hop up and give them the biggest hug, telling them everything that happened and how bad you had felt because it should have been me. And they'll hold you as you cry and pat your back and do everything they can to know that they're sorry for not being there to see it. It hurts because you'll know that'll never happen, no matter how much you want it to. That the sheer hope of them coming back won't be enough to bring them back. And so you sit there, waiting for eternity, feeling guilty that it wasn't you and wondering if anyone would have waited for you.

While you wait, there's a whole bunch of time to think. Too much. You think about the time you spent with them. How you admired them for doing things you couldn't do. You think about all the times you got mad and stormed out. You think about all the things you could have said, all the jokes you could have shared, all the hugs, and movie nights, and advice. And you start to wonder if you'd really known them at all. Because there are always people who knew them better, who suffer more yet still moved on. You can't help but wonder what makes you different. And one day, it just clicks. You're the kid. The one who can't seem to let go. The naïve one. The hopeful one who hasn't been beaten down yet.

That's when you start to realize that they're not coming back. When they're not there telling you that you're wrong and that you're not a kid, you're just loyal. When they aren't there to reassure you.

The thoughts start to hit you. You wonder if you can be a hero compared to them. You wonder if they even cared because if they had, they'd still be here. You wonder if they're happier. If this was all some part of some plan to make you destroy yourself.

Your thoughts are all jumbled in this pain of mourning. You aren't sure about anything anymore. Just confused. Why did they have to leave instead of me? Guilt clouds any perspective you had as you see over and over again in your head and hear their words. You can't remember anything but the repeating thoughts that it should have been you. And then you wonder where your comfort has gone until you're forced again into the cycle of having to remember.

Yeah, it fucking sucks. By losing one, you've lost everyone. Everyone leaves as you wait. Everyone leaves as you push them away. No one realizes that you're hurting because you need comfort that can't be given anymore.

And then, you finally realize. It finally hits you. And it breaks you. You realize just how alone you are. You're the person that you'd always walked away from because you were scared of being like them.

All you can hear is the silence broken only by your sobs. All you can smell is nothingness broken only by the painful memory of who you used to be. All you can feel is the feel of your arms hugging your body as you try to imagine that it's someone hugging you. All you can see is the painful blur stirred only by the memories of the look on their face as they realize their fate. All you can taste is the salty taste of tears. You can't do anything without thinking about them. Without being forced to remember. Being happy, being sad, being angry, being scared, everything reminds you of them.

Before you know it, you've dug yourself into a far deeper hole than you'd ever thought. Your hands claw at the walls, trying to pull yourself free. Skin is torn, blood flowing, hands bruised. All you can see is the teasing view of the beautiful sky, knowing that you'll never be able to reach it. You can see their faces, laughing at you. Saying that you should have just walked away. Saying that look where staying had gotten you.

You had never wanted to die more than that moment. To see your friend again. You want to be free. But you can't help wondering if they wouldn't just laugh too. Suddenly, that's all you can hear. The laughter is getting louder and louder, pulsing in and out of your vision, head pounding. You feel like you'll shatter and revel at how you've managed to stay together. You wonder if it'll ever stop.

And once again, you're sitting back on that bench, waiting and watching the light for the impossible to weave the person you've wanted the most. And you hope that no one feels this way. "Free me, let me go! Take me as I am!" you cry, not sure what you'll dread more--the echo or the answer. Because no one would ever set you free. Don't you remember? The only person who'd set you free is dead.

And they took the key.

---~---~---

I shut the laptop. I couldn't write anymore. I didn't want to write more. The painful reality of putting my feelings into words that no one would dare read was more real than the reality I lived in.

It had been a year. One whole year without the man I had once called mentor, Mister Stark, and maybe, if we'd had a bit more time, Dad. Yet every day, I still carry this heavy weight of emptiness, wondering how nothing could weigh that much.

I feel more lonely than I ever have. I'm surrounded by people--good people--who can't read the signs I've displayed. I'll bare my chest, hold up a sign, cry to the world, and they'd turn away. They've moved on. I haven't.

I don't know what to do. I've tried so damn hard. I've tried to talk. I've tried to distract myself. I've visited his grave. I've done everything in my power to let him go, but his ghost holds tight to my heart, begging me not to move on. He never felt loved. He always was so lonely. He doesn't want to be forgotten. So I'll hold him in my heart. Let him be warm and comforted. I'll let him get to know Mom and Dad and Uncle Ben and all the others.

It's become my job to hold the souls of those lost in my heart. No one gave it to me but myself. Yet I mourn them even if I didn't know them. They deserve it when others have moved on. I know I've doomed myself to a life of hurt and painful laughter, but I've given them a death of happiness and companionship. My only thought is who will hold these people when I'm gone. Who will take my heart and everyone in it? Who will take me as I am?

I open up the laptop again and let my fingers rest once again on the keys, channeling myself into this document that won't judge me. And I hope that one day, someone will care just enough to remember them. Not me. I don't care for myself. Just let them be happy. And maybe, they'll take me too. Maybe they'll save me. Maybe someone will care. Maybe after all those years, someone will take me as I am.