Author's Note: Hello everyone! I'm finally making my Spiderman debut! I am sorry that it has to be with such a sad piece, but I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless. Enjoy!
It happened on June 26.
I will always remember that date because I can never forget who I lost or move on. That day brings tears to my eyes even now, 30 years later. I don't even know why I'm talking about it again. Maybe because I hope that if I write it down, someone will see it and finally find out what happened to Peter and me. Maybe because I want to talk about it, but I don't know how or maybe because I think that some of the guilt will go away if I do write it down.
I don't know . . . but I think I'm doing this for Peter. At least, I'd like to think that I'm doing this for Peter. Then again, I have been known to be the selfish one in the relationship. I—Mary Jane Watson Parker—was never nor will I ever be the self-sacrificing one in any relationship. That's just how I am and how I will be for my whole life. Peter was always the one who gave in and I loved him for that. He always knew what things to drop and what things to keep pushing. Peter was the smart one and he was truly spectacular.
I miss him.
I miss his smile and his laugh, the way his eyes would light up whenever he became passionate about something, and his caring nature. Peter was everything I had ever wanted in a man and when I look back on it, I want to punch myself for not noticing that fact earlier. We could've spent more time together and maybe—no. What's happened has happened and there's no point in wishing for a dream that will never come true.
That day still plays in my mind whenever I go to sleep. It had been hot –a blistering 102 degrees—and I remember sitting out on the porch swing waiting for Peter to come back from work. Mr. Jameson had promised him some interesting project on a local Senator being a fraud or something and he had raced off to work with a quick kiss and a happy smile. We were living in a nice house in the suburb then. I hadn't turned on the TV—a decision which I regret now—and I was simply trying to relax. Peter and I had settled into married life quite nicely and I was glad that the constant stream of super villains had slowed down a bit. I remember thinking about how maybe Peter would be able to earn a normal living for awhile and that maybe Spiderman would take a little vacation. I had shut my eyes just picturing the wonderful life that we could have if things kept going the way they did.
My eyes flew open.
I knew that voice and it was a voice that I had never wanted to hear.
And sure enough he was there. Wolverine, one of Peter's friends from what I'd call his "real job", was standing before the steps of the porch. His eyes were downcast and I remember him sighing a lot as he shifted his weight nervously. Logan and I had only met once before when he had visited Peter on some X-Men business and frankly, the guy made me a little nervous. He had one of those shifty auras surrounding him and I didn't trust him. But after a little time—he stayed for dinner—I saw that Logan was mostly all bark and no bite. He also seemed to generally respect Peter and care for his wellbeing and that was good news for me.
Looking back, I realized that I knew what had happened. You know how people say that they know when something bad happens to the person they love? Well, I did feel something but it was a feeling that I had pushed aside because I didn't want it to be true. I didn't want to know that Peter had—well, you know.
"What makes you think somethin's wrong, darlin'?" He questioned, but avoided my gaze. I jumped up from my seat and rushed down the stairs. He and I had about two inches separating our faces and I made him look into my eyes.
"Don't lie to me," I hissed. "What's wrong?"
Logan had never been one to show up with good news. It was a trend that I was starting to get used to. He showed up, chaos broke loose, and he and Peter would fix everything. The only time Logan had shown up with good news was . . . come to think of it, Logan had never brought good news.
"Mary Jane," He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Sit down."
A wave of grief hit me. This was going to be bad, I knew that. I had always told myself that this day would come—the day when I would lose Peter and be alone, but I had always denied it. I had always told myself that it would happen next year and then when next year came, it would happen the year after that. I had never prepared myself for the inevitability that Peter would die and reflecting on it, I'm glad I didn't. I silently walked back up the steps and sat down on the porch swing.
I sat down and felt my body shake but not from being cold. My breath was starting to come in fits and it was getting harder for me to breathe. Logan slowly walked up the steps until he was standing directly in front of me. He looked like he was in pain just being here and I knew that the worst case scenario was coming true.
"Just tell me, Logan." I mumbled as he took a seat next to me.
A shocked moment passed as I realized that Eddie, the man who had wanted my husband dead for years was back. Peter had barely been able to defeat him the last time and now he was fighting him again? This would not end well.
"No," I whispered as I jumped up and raced to the TV, but Logan's strong arm pulled me back. "Let go!"
"You don't want to see that." He informed me.
"And why the hell not!" I screamed as I tried to free myself. "Let go!"
"I won't," He told me as he dragged me back to the porch swing. "Trust me, you don't want to see that." He released my wrist and I wondered what to do now and if I was ever going to see Peter again.
"Is he alive?" The answer to that question would change the course of life forever and I think Logan knew that. I remember he dropped my gaze and looked out into the nice quiet garden in the front of our house. How could the sun shine so bright on that day? Why was it such a beautiful day when Peter was fighting for his life?
"I don't know." He confessed and I felt myself sink into the seat. "Peter told me to stay with you."
"He called me and told me that Brock was free," He paused, reflecting on Peter I suppose. "He wanted me to stay with you in case he . . ." His voice trailed off and I knew what word he was looking for—died. In case Peter died, that sentence cut me more deeply than a knife. God, I had known this day would come, but I had never known exactly how much it would hurt.
"Why aren't you helping him?" I growled.
"Because he wanted me to protect you," Logan answered. "He would rather die knowing you were safe than live and worry if Brock had gotten to you, Mary Jane."
"Peter," I broken down then and began to sob. I put my face in my hands and just cried. Looking back on it now, I realized that I must've cried for hours and Logan stayed with me through it all. Whether that was out of a sense of duty or friendship for Peter, I would never know, but now it brings me a little comfort to know he was there.
We stayed there on that porch swing for what seemed like an eternity. I don't even think I slept that night. In the morning, Logan was still there and when he met my questioning gaze, he shook his head. I felt as if all the air inside of me had been blown out. My mind could only process one thing—
Peter was dead.
They never found a body for Peter or Eddie, but the police said with the amount of blood spilled it was almost certain that the two had both bled out. They were going to test Spiderman's DNA to find out who he was, but mysteriously the Police decided to clean up the mess and leave Spiderman's identity alone. I learned out later that Logan had made a few calls to Professor Xavier who had been so grateful to Peter that he would do anything to help out. I hadn't realized how beloved Peter was to everyone and knowing that I wasn't the only one who cared about him brings me a little comfort when I try to go to bed at night.
I buried an empty coffin.
With no body, I had no choice. I also had to come with a story of how Peter died to his friends and to his family. I was tempted to tell his Aunt the truth that her nephew was a hero, but I decided that if Peter had never told her then I shouldn't tell her either. Eventually, I told everyone that Peter had died in his sleep and thanks to Matthew Murdock—Daredevil, another of Peter's friends— I had the documents to prove it. Surprisingly, Mr. Jameson ran a huge tribute piece to Peter in the newspaper and even a tiny one to Spiderman.
The funeral was on a quiet, sunny Sunday.
Everyone that Peter had ever known seemed to be there—all his friends from work, his superhero friends, and his family. I stood next to Aunt May who sobbed the whole time and I forced myself to be strong for her. I tried not to cry, but tears managed to silently snake their way down my cheeks. I locked myself in my room when I got home, surrounded me with pictures of Peter and me, and sobbed for hours.
I never married again.
When Peter died, my heart did too and I knew that I couldn't handle being in another relationship. The pain has dulled in my heart as the years have passed, but it has never healed completely. I still see Peter whenever I close my eyes, but while there is a slight feeling of pain, there is also a feeling of joy of seeing him again.
Time passed as time does and now is the 30th anniversary of Peter's death. It's been such a long time since that fateful day and I know with each anniversary that I manage to survive, I become a little stronger. I want to be strong because I know Peter would've wanted me to go on with my life—as impossible as that seems.
Logan is going to visit today.
He visits every anniversary. We don't talk much, but just having him here makes the pain a little less sharp. His reason for stopping by is always untrue and last year, he stopped giving me excuses for stopping by. I'm glad he comes. Because by having him here, I know that I'm not alone. He shares my pain too.
And that knowledge lets me get through my life a little easier.
Author's Note: Reviews are always welcomed!