A/N: So I finally got a chance to see The Amazing Spider-Man 2, and due to the awfulness of Gwen Stacey's death (BY FAR ONE OF THE WORST THINGS TO EVER HAPPEN EVER) I've realized that even I - myself - am having a hard time really believing she's gone.
Is it bad that a fictional character's death has rattled me more than anything dying in real life?
. . . nah!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Spider-Man whatsoever, if I did, then ThIS WOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED!
Warning: This is a deeply depressing fic, with little in it but just sadness. BECAUSE THAT'S ALL THERE IS IN THE WORLD!
With that in mind, enjoy!
Peter Parker watches but doesn't really see the television in front of him, blaring news that otherwise would have rattled, if not for. . . everything.
What little awareness he had told him that it was a news channel, and the words written in read bold said: Possible Spider-Man Connection?
"Gwen Stacey's body was found at the bottom on a destroyed clock tower, along with the remains of the mysterious menace going by the name of Electro, and the unconscious body of Harry Osborn, son to genius and deceased Norman Osborn, creator of Oscorp."
He is the biggest failure in the history of failures.
What kind of hero can't even save his friends? His girlfriend?
And there it is again; just the thought of Gwen sends a chill down Peter so profound, to call it pain was a gross understatement. This, this feeling, it was beyond pain, beyond guilt, beyond shame.
Just. . . beyond, like an alien creature. Peter has never experienced. . . this.
There just isn't a name for it. It rattles Peter down to his very bones. His soul.
Oh, Gwen. . .
"Could these two have played some sort of role in the vigilante's life? By going deeper into the mystery, could we be one step closer into finding out the man behind the mask?"
Peter closes his eyes. He wants to scream, but everything inside is just too dead, to hollowed out to produce such a thing.
"Did Spider-Man contribute to Stacey's tragic death?"
He should have known, looking back. It was all too quiet once Gwen stopped falling.
No gasp, no indication of surprise, or even pain.
When had victory ever been so. . . silent?
"Harry Osborn has been arrested and taken into custody. Upon the scene, strange weaponry was found attached to Osborn, along with a peculiar, green metallic suit. What has allowed Osborn to steep so low?"
The pain of Harry runs deep within Peter, too. Just once - just once - could something not be his fault?
What were his choices? Let him die or let him have blood and die or perhaps worse?
It might not be the beyond pain-beyond guilt feeling that he has experienced only following Gwen's death, but Peter's sure there's a reason for that.
There were always choices. Always, with Gwen. Some he might not have liked, but some he could live with.
Not like. . . this.
Leave Gwen out of it. . .
Leave Gwen out of it. . .
Leave Gwen out of it. . .
Who would she be, had it not been for him? What would she have become? What would she be?
Not dead, at least.
"Sources say Stacey was off to England, as she had gotten a scholarship to Oxford University, and was to be taking a flight that very night.
The question remains: what was she doing near the clock tower at all? Is it possible that Spider-Man had led her there?"
Oxford, she was going to Oxford.
Gwen Stacey was dying more and more, everyday, over and over, in more ways than just a snapped neck.
There were slow, agonizing realizations all around Peter.
She would never smile again.
Never joke or laugh (nope, still adorable!)
Never find another awful hiding place for the both of them. He'd have to do that, and his hiding places weren't nearly as awful.
Never kiss him or be silly with him, or help him defeat his baddies.
The lack of Gwen, and that beyond pain-beyond guilt feeling comes over him and envelops him and be all there was.
And ever could be.
"Another possible clue happens to be the lack of Spider-Man activity; since Stacey and Osborn were found, the vigilante sightings have been extremely low.
Could this be a leave of grief? Could Spider-Man be grieving the life of a lover?"
Two Stacey's dead and buried. No one seems to put it together that Peter just can't look Mrs. Stacey in the eye as she shares her pain with him or come near any of her brothers or friends.
She wasn't just his girlfriend. Gwen had a life - friends, family, colleagues, dreams, aspirations - a person was gone. Just. . . just gone.
Mrs. Stacey's legs give out as her sadness hardens to rock and pulls her down in a head of sobs and moans. She breaks down completely, over the loss of a husband and a child.
You don't give people hope.
Peter turns from the family and doesn't (can't, could never, is physically incapable of) looking back.
You take it away.
"Stacey was only eighteen."
She could have been anything. . . anything, had it not been for him.
"Stacey's death was caused by a snapped neck, killing her instantly."
A horrible, grotesque sound that begins Peter's suffering.
"We will have more information on this scene when we can -"
Peter punches the off bottom and the television dies, leaving only a chilling silence.
Peter sits in it, soaks in it, watching the window. He witnesses the light of day drain away into yet another night of no sleep.
A small jolts Peter, and he turns. He looks to his left.
It is a picture of Gwen, of course, that fell. Peter lifts himself out of his chair and grabs it, staring at it.
Gwen is kneeling in front of the camera, smiling vibrantly, her beautiful strands of blond locks are coming down along with her, some stuck in mid-motion forever.
Peter stares and stares, almost as though should he look long enough that version will climb out of his photo and meet him.
That feeling comes to him, his only companion in the suffering, and this time, Peter welcomes it.
He sinks to the floor, tears streaming out and down his face as he clutches the picture of Gwen to his chest, whimpers turn to sobs.
This is pain. Anything before this was simply laughable.
"Gwen. . ." Peter trails, rocking. "Gwen, I'm so sorry, I. . . please. . . come back. Just - just be alive again, okay? Can you do that for me, huh? Just be alive, you don't have to ever see me again, just be alive again. . ."
Peter stays silent for a moment, waiting.
"Please, baby," Peter continues between sobs. "Please. . . just this one thing. . . please. . ."
Peter closes his eyes again, and is suddenly hit.
Reality shrinks and jerks, and Peter is stuck within his own head, his sorrowful mind.
Gwen. . . Gwen. . . Gwen. . .
Every moment replays, every moment with Gwen Stacey. Ever kiss, hug, playful pat; every dinner, every argument, every night spent together, and alone.
Everything. From beginning to end. The first and last, the genesis and revelation, plays out in front of him to enjoy one final time.
I'm going to take one last look.
"Oh - you - you know my name?"
"Oh, I know your name, I just wanted to make sure you knew your name."
Peter, despite everything, smiles at the bittersweet, innocent memory. Seeming so foreign and far away now, it brings him a teaspoon of joy.
He's holding her, and he says -
"I'm gonna throw you out the window now,"
The line disconnects -
"Gwen - Gwen! Oh, you motherhugger!"
He's pulling her to him via his webs, and she's in his arms -
"You're Spider-Man -"
"Shut up. . ."
The back alley is cold, but Peter is full of warmth as Gwen says -
"You're Spider-Man and I love that, but I love Peter Parker more. . ."
Gwen is coming to him, irritation laced in her features -
"Really? You web me to a car? What are you, a caveman?"
Peter's heart is filled with salt as he listens to the tape of her speech -
" I know that we all think we're immortal, we're supposed to feel that way, we're graduating. The future is and should be bright, but, like our brief four years in high school, what makes life valuable is that it doesn't last forever, what makes it precious is that it ends. I know that now more than ever. And I say it today of all days to remind us that time is luck. So don't waste it living somebody else's life, make yours count for something. Fight for what matters to you, no matter what. Because even if you fall short or even if we fail... what better way is there to live?
Peter opens his eyes, reality bending back to its respective place.
What was that?
I'm going to take one last look, and then I'm putting this stuff where it belongs.
Peter understands, a least a little.
He clenches the picture of Gwen, looks at it with all the intensity that he has within him, and then places it on his desk.
He reaches into his closet, and pulls out the Spidey-suit.
It's time to live again.
Whew, I hope you all enjoyed that.
As you probably noticed, I just couldn't find a way to end this on a really hopeful note, but I tried. For Peter to be suddenly hit with every wonderful (and not so) moment with Gwen, and then realize that he had to move on, and that people needed him.
Which. . . is pretty much what happened in TASM2, hehe.
I also wanted to show that while Peter is mourning the death of his girlfriend, he's also mourning her as her own person. A person with dreams and opportunities and a life outside of being Spider-Man's girlfriend.
She was his love, but she was also Gwen Fucking Stacey.
SO I feel a little bit better, and, like Peter, I'm ready to move on from this whole thing, and, even though I don't believe time heals all wounds, I think time makes everything easier to deal with. If you're patient, one day you can look at something that happened to you, and you won't be so shaken by it, nor will it bring you just body-crippling sadness.
Whelp, this was my contribution to Spider-Man fanfiction, hope you liked it!