𝗕𝟮 | There are only bad decisions beyond us. With the vulture gone, it was time to work on bonding. However, a threat out of their hands attacks once again, causing their actions to have until the last consequence of their will.
(𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗯𝗮𝗻�...
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"Have i told you i'm sorry?"
The words slipped out before he could stop himself, and immediately, he felt foolish. He'd said it so many times that he'd lost track, murmured it against memories that wouldn't let him go. But here, in front of the murals built to honor the fallen, the urge to say it came back as if it were the first time.
The murals weren't grand, but in that part of the city, they were sacred. Five years had passed, and the spot remained untouched, carefully tended by family members or volunteers who came by each week to trim the grass and leave behind fresh flowers. They wanted it to look dignified—a small, quiet gesture of honor for the fallen. But only a few knew the weight of the sacrifices that had been made, the lives that had been risked in that fight.
Nikolas looked down at a small flower growing along the mural's edge. He plucked a delicate white petal and held it in his fingers, feeling the softness against his skin.
"Do you remember this kind of flower?" He mumbled to himself, as if Peter might somehow hear him. "It's like the one you gave me years ago, at school... for the dance. My first dance."
His fingers tightened around the petal.
"I wanted to give you something fancy that day, something that looked... I don't know, worth it. But all I had were a couple of coins in my pocket. Guess the Stark internship doesn't pay much." He added with a quiet laugh, remembering all the price they had been paying.
"Morgan won't stop asking about you, and every time she does, I just... freeze. It's like I'm not really there. I get pulled back to the last time we were apart, back to that exact moment. I keep torturing myself thinking about everything we could've done, everything I could've done differently." He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw to hold back the weight of it all. "Ned and I... we barely talk these days. I guess you were the spark that kept us all together. The heart of our little arachnid trinity, huh?"
He drummed his fingers on his knees, the familiar motion failing to bring him any comfort. Each visit, each time he sat before those names etched in stone, he knew it would exhaust him. The phone inside his sweater vibrated but he just rolled his eyes and ignored it.
"They say to move on. But how am I supposed to?" His voice broke. "Don't know how to do that. Not without you. Everything is just... one endless 'what if.' What if I'd stopped you? You'd be right here, right now."
The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the memorial park. Nikolas knew he needed to follow the rules and head back to the outskirts of town—his new, unfamiliar home under Stark's roof. But just as he was about to leave, soft, careless giggles made him stop. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw two kids kicking at the flower arrangements laid gently at the base of the memorial pillar, their small feet trampling over the spot where Peter B. Parker was etched into stone.
