Chapter 2
How many funerals were there now? First, his parents, then Uncle Ben, Captain Stacy, Gwen, and now Aunt May. The sole remaining pillar in his life had crumbled, and the guilt was crushing . He should have been there. He promised May he would visit when his fall break started but between catching up on sleep in his own apartment and wanting to start patrolling right away he had pushed it off. His last chance to ever see her breathing again was stolen from him by a robbery gone wrong. Just his luck.
Why am I even here? The question stung his mind, worsened by May's cold, colorless face staring back at him from the casket. Peter forced himself to come today, not just for appearances but to brand the memory of her face into his mind. It served as yet another bitter reminder of his inability to shield those he loved from harm – a tragic pattern that had become his painful specialty.
Long after all the guests had left he stood in front of the fresh mound of dirt sealing his aunt into the ground forever. At least she was with Ben now and they could talk about how Peter's selfishness had killed them both. He chuckled darkly at the thought as tears pricked his eyes. He was useless.
A sharp pain brought him out of his head. Looking down at the bundle of flowers held in his fist, he found a thorn he must’ve missed on the white rose he had brought for Gwen had pierced his thumb. Switching the flowers to his other hand, he lifted his thumb to his mouth to suck the blood off, but paused as his hand came closer. Although the pain of the small prick was nothing compared to what he normally dealt with it brought clarity to his mind for a moment. He felt like he could truly breathe for the first time in a week. It felt good .
Slightly shaking his head he refocused on the task at hand. Peter often avoided the cemetery but since he was here anyway he thought to visit those he’d been neglecting for a while and bring each of them something to keep them company. He brought May a wild flower bouquet. It was fitting. Peter knew she longed for the freedom and limitless opportunities of being with Ben with no children. Unfortunately those dreams were destroyed as soon as his parents had died. He knew she loved him but Peter wasn’t sure she ever wanted him. Ben shared in his aunt's desire for adventure so he got a sunflower. He brought light wherever he went and he could endure so much without losing what made him special. His mother and father both got lilies. He wished he could give them something more meaningful but when they died he barely knew what flowers were let alone what their favorites were. Captain Stacy got a lily as well. The man didn’t seem to like flowers a great deal but Peter had to pay his respects in some way.
One by one starting with his parents he placed the flowers at all of his relatives' graves. They were practically right next to each other. Having the same last name makes visiting cemeteries quick and convenient, Peter thought darkly. After gently placing the wildflowers over the fresh dirt he stood trying to steel himself against the overwhelming void of loss in his heart. His knees wanted to buckle, he wanted to scream and rage at the unfairness of it all, just how much did the world think he could take? But of course all he could do was stand and stare at everything he had lost, no one was left for him to grieve with, it was only him now and he’d rather die than do something as useless as crying over something that was his fault.
Just two more to go .
Footsteps sounded further down the row. Normally he would’ve paid no mind but ever since he had found- her his senses had refused to calm down. Every small sound, from a quiet inhalation to a distant, jovial laugh, or even the soft disturbance of dirt beneath a shoe, sent ripples of apprehension through him. Sleeping was impossible because of it but at least he was ready for anything. However, the calm, assured confidence of the steps quieted his exhausted mind. Closing his eyes and focusing on the rhythm, he forced the tears threatening to spill over his eyes away. No more weakness. It only got in the way.
The grounding steps had halted a couple feet to his right and behind him, He could feel two sets of eyes looking at him. What for? Think it's funny to stare at the orphan? Peter turned his head sharply, narrowing his eyes at the two men over his shoulder. They both flinched slightly as if they were surprised he noticed them. Peter supposed that it made sense. Their steps would be nearly silent to any normal person, but what can he say, he's on edge.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” Peter ground out bitterly. He was not in the mood to be the center of anyone's attention. The blond man set his teeth on edge slightly as he stepped forward. Peter stepped back in response, swiveling around to get a better view of them.
Holy shit .
Steve Rogers and James Barnes of the Avengers were staring directly at him.