He should've known. He was a fool to think he could be happy, to think he could have what he wanted. That wasn't for him. He wasn't allowed to be happy. It's retribution, he figures. He's messed up a lot. Made too many mistakes to count, not to mention accidentally killing the first love of his life. Nevertheless, he forgave himself and moved on. He tried to make a life for himself. Even if the world was against him, he was going to try his best to make life worth living. He wasn't the same as he used to be but he tried his best.
He even fell in love. That was the first mistake of this new life. He went and fell in love and actually allowed himself to think that life would go his way. It was a stupid idea to begin with. He loved Matt, with every cell in his body, but he knew he'd never be enough for the other man. Matt was recovering from Frank and Peter was terrified of even touching Matt for fear of breaking him. Yet, they fell in love. Stayed together. Made a life that they wanted to live. Until it all came crashing down.
Because Peter Parker didn't deserve love, and the world knew that. It was just a matter of time before everything he cared about was destroyed, taking his souls along with it. It was a sad truth, but it was Peter's reality. Matt was dead and so was Peter, just not physically. Yet.
—
Matt rolled off of Peter in a heap of limbs and sheets. They both attempted to catch their breaths, skin hot and sticky with sweat. Peter felt almost like he was floating as he came down from the high. It felt like his head was in the clouds, he felt amazing. If Matt's appearance was anything to go off of, he was in much the same state. His hair was messy, brown locks falling across his forehead while flyways stuck to his skin, glued on by the excess sweat. He was gorgeous.
Peter mentally swatted the thought away. He wasn't here to admire Matt. He was here because Matt needed someone and so did he. It was an exchange. Nothing more, nothing less. They weren't here to fall in love.
"You're staring." Matt states and Peter lets out a small laugh.
"How could you possibly know if I'm staring or not?" Peter has a smirk on his face and a matching one is growing on Matt's.
"I just know." Both Peter and Matt laugh at that. Peter figures in a normal circumstance he would compliment Matt and they would curl up together to fall asleep. However, this isn't a normal circumstance and Peter has no fucking clue what to do next. They're breathing has matched rhythm and Peter hopes to God that this moment never ends. He's happy, he hasn't been happy in a really long time.
He knows Matt probably doesn't feel the same. Frank recently left him and Peter is just a stand in for right now. He has to be because Matt needs something and Peter is okay being what Matt needs.
"I can practically hear you thinking, Peter. What's up?" Matt breaks Peter out of the world he had lost himself in and he has to stop to think for a second. He can't be honest, so a quick lie falls off his tongue.
"Someone who's been running around Queens. Trying to figure out the best way to get him." He hopes he sounds convincing enough. Matt looks like he'll argue it but obviously decides against it.
"We just had amazing sex and you're still thinking about your night life? I'm hurt, truly." Peter's thrilled that Matt lets it go and lets out a breathy laugh.
"Multitasking is important in our line of work." Peter retorts back and Matt shakes his head.
"I'm a lawyer, Peter. Multitasking in my line of work can cause mistakes. Can't have that." Matt clicks his tongue and Peter pushes his shoulder slightly. They share another small laugh and then plunge back into silence.
There's a sigh from Matt before he's rolling out of bed and tugging on his boxers and pants. Peter thinks about asking him where he's going, but decides against it because it isn't his place. They're not together. They're barely friends. This is just sex. Nothing more.
It's nothing more but fuck, Peter wishes it was.
—
The conversation had been carrying on fine before someone had brought it up. Brought him up. It'd been a month since his funeral, Danny probably thought he was in the safe zone to talk about. That didn't matter, Peter didn't want anyone talking about it. Didn't want his name uttered out of anyone else's mouth.
"Matt used to-" And that's all Peter really heard before he was sitting up straight, the forced small smile he was sporting all night falling from his face as he stared at Danny.
"Don't. Don't say anything else." Peter spats out and he knows it was harsh. Danny was just talking about his friend, Peter wasn't the only one who was affected by Matt's death. That really doesn't matter to him because no one else was in love with Matt. No one else had plans with Matt. They didn't plan their entire future around him. Peter thinks he has somewhat of a right to deny talking about Matt. Sure, Danny's small and harmless statement was just that, but it would have snowballed into a conversation about Matt and who he was and what he used to do.
Danny shrinks back into himself a little, but he doesn't argue or say anything. Peter wants to feel bad, but he's interrupted before any of his thoughts can go further. "Come on, Parker. We miss him too, but that doesn't mean we snap anyone on earth who might utter the name M-"
"Shut up, Jessica." Peter was never usually that blunt, but a lot had changed. He didn't do a lot of the things he used to and he picked up new habits.
"Okay you know what, no. I'm sick of this shit. He's dead and that really sucks, but you're gonna have to move on eventually." Jessica is sitting forward in her seat now and everyone else is in stunned silence. Danny looks guilty for having caused all this and Luke looks five seconds away from bolting away from the mess.
In a normal situation, a situation in which Matt wasn't dead, Peter would just give in. Accept what Jessica was saying and move on. Unfortunately for his friend, it wasn't a normal situation, and Peter was more than ready to fight. "Well I'm sorry I've actually been able to have a partner unlike you. You don't know what it feels like-"
"That's not fair." Maybe it isn't because Peter knows what Jessica's been through and why she steers away from relationships. He'd feel bad but he doesn't care. Doesn't care about anything anymore.
"I don't care. You don't know what it's like to fall in love with someone after losing everything. You don't understand the hoping and the planning and the expecting everything to go right because maybe, just maybe the world will let you have something. All of that for it to be ripped away from you in a matter of seconds. It's a fucking nightmare and you don't understand it at all." Angry tears were forming in his eyes, but he just let them fall. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing did. "I knew Matt better than all of you. We lived together. We loved each other, so don't tell me to just move on. I can't move on, so don't fucking tell me to."
The room is plunged into a sudden quiet that Peter feels like he's drowning in it. Now that everything is off his chest, he isn't sure what to do now. He thinks he should apologize but he can't be bothered to care. He's just tired, he's always tired now. "Get out." He mumbles and past Peter is slapping present Peter across the face because what the hell is wrong with him? When no one moves, Peter looks around and points towards the door. "Get the hell out of my apartment. Now."
Danny and Luke are out in the blink of an eye, leaving Jessica to linger around. She grabs her bag, and as she heads out the door, she stops and turns back to Peter. "You keep this up and Matt isn't going to be the only one you've lost." Peter's jaw clenches and he waits for Jessica to leave on her own accord before slamming the door behind her.
—
It was tender and warm, vastly different from the frantic and heated encounters they've been having. Peter isn't sure what changed, but he wants to take his time, and Matt has yet to object. His lips are pressing tender kisses on Matt's face, the edge of his jaw, trailing down his neck. Out of the corner of his eyes, Peter can see the almost permanent smirk that's etched on Matt's face. His eyes are closed, eyelashes brushing against his under eyes. His lips are parted slightly, taking in air slowly, letting it out in the same fashion, a perfect rhythm. He looks fucking gorgeous. Peter has half the mind to tell him so before he stops himself. He knows they aren't here for that, so he continues his downward trek.
He's placing feather light kisses on Matt's chest when Matt's hand finds its way under his chin, lifting his face up. Concern immediately washes over him as he examines Matt for any sign of discomfort. He finds quite the opposite, actually. Matt is completely relaxed, that same soft smirk drawn on his face. His eyes are open now and fuck, he's so pretty. Peter wishes he could have this everyday, wishes he could wake up everyday and look into Matt's beautiful eyes. Matt's hand that is still holding onto his chin tugs forward slightly and Peter obeys. They're closer now and Peter is suspended over Matt's body.
It's silent for a minute, Peter staring into Matt's eyes and Matt taking in the moment. He breaks it eventually, his quiet voice breaking through the abyss. "I really like this." The statement takes Peter by surprise. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. He almost laughs at the bluntness of the statement, but he controls himself and settles for a smile.
"I'm glad. I do too." Matt's smirk loses the edge to it and becomes more of a smile and Peter's heart swoons.
"I could tell."
"Oh, and how's that? I smell like I enjoy it?" Peter huffs out a laugh and Matt smacks his chest lightly. His hand lingers on the bare skin, over the area where his heart resides beneath the surface.
"Your heartbeat." Matt responds and Peter pauses. "It's always calm and steady when we're together. Even if we're going fast."
"Well I'd like to say that's because I'm always calm, I'm a very cool and collected person." The quip falls off his tongue easily and Matt huffs out a laugh.
"Would you shut it, you idiot?" Peter does just that. "I know this was no strings attached I just-" Matt pauses and Peter feels his heart rate pick up. Matt had to have been lying about the calm and steady part because right now Peter feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. "I hate when you walk out that door. I hate listening to you walk away from this." Peter's heart about stops and he swears he isn't breathing for at least five seconds.
He tries to speak, searches deep for the right words, but he just can't. He doesn't know why. Matt must sense his distress because words are falling out of his mouth quickly. "And if that's not what you want, that's fine. I get it. We weren't in this to be together and I know what happened to you and I completely understand-"
Peter cuts Matt off with a kiss because for some reason that's the only thing his brain could think of to do. He's still suspended above Matt and after a few seconds they separate and Peter rolls off him, sitting up in the bed. Matt pushes himself up and leans on his shoulders. They stay like that for a moment, quiet and trying to figure out exactly what to say. Peter finds his words first.
"This is the most attached I've felt to a person since Gwen." He's totally honest and he knows Matt can hear that. He swears he hears a miniscule sigh of relief from the older man, but he decides to ignore it. "I didn't think you wanted anymore. I mean I know how it's been since Frank and I didn't want to rush you into anything-"
"You're not rushing me, I promise." Matt cuts Peter off this time and it's Peter's turn to sigh with relief. "I want to make something of this. I'm ready." Matt sounds so genuine and sincere and Peter swears he's never felt this happy in his entire life. "I'll have you, if you'll have me." That smile is back on Matt's face and a matching one is painted on Peter's.
"Yeah. Yeah I'd really like that." Peter leans forward, bringing his hand up to rest on Matt's cheek. The kiss is soft, but it's quite possibly the best kiss Peter has ever had. It lasts a few seconds before they're pulling apart and Peter is speaking again. "And I'll try my best not to run away from you." Peter knows the joke could possibly go south really quick, but it doesn't and Matt is laughing along with him.
"And I'll try not to die on you." A part of Peter wants to be upset at the response, but he figures he brought it on first, and it doesn't sting like it used to. It feels like a promise rather than a stab at an old mistake. It feels like the start of a new life.
—
Peter was throwing his punches. Or webs, same difference. His flips were slower than they used to be and he was in no rush to get the fight over with. The fabric of his suit felt too tight, it clung uncomfortably to his skin. It never used to bother him before, but everything's changed now.
He wasn't working alone tonight, Wade had made a stop in Queens to help with a take down. Peter didn't ask, didn't want the help, but Wade had never cared about anyone asking. That's just who Wade is. Usually, Peter could find comfort and appreciation in that part of Wade's personality, but now it's pissing him off. He doesn't want the fight to end and Wade is making it go way too fucking fast.
While Wade is doing his thing, Peter is against two guys. The knife that one of the bad guys held sliced through the thin material of his suit, doing much the same to the skin beneath. It stung and Peter hissed before continuing the fight. Another slash or two later, both criminals were down and Wade had finished off his share of the work. Peter was examining his wounds when Wade ripped off his mask and started talking to Peter.
"What the hell was that?" Wade's rare serious voice echoed off the alley walls. Peter just rolled his eyes and shook his head, leaning down to begin dragging the criminals out into the open. Wade stomped forward, grabbing onto Peter's shoulder and stopping him. "No, we're not doing this today. You're going to answer me."
Peter huffed and pushed Wade's hand off his shoulder. "It doesn't matter." Was his quiet reply as he kept discarding criminals.
"Like hell it doesn't." Came Wade's quick response. "You were pulling your punches. It took you way longer than it should have. You were slow." The word makes Peter stop dead in his tracks. Slow. Too slow. He was always too slow. Too slow to save Gwen, too slow to save Matt. Always too slow. The word bounces around his skull. Slow. Slow. Slow. Slow-
"I'm always slow, Wade. Too fucking slow. Maybe I'm not as fast as you think I am." He spats out and throws the last goon out of the alleyway. He steps back into the darkness of the place and takes off his own mask, needing the fresh air for a second.
"What's this about, man? Matt? You're doing this because you couldn't save Matt?" Wade inquires and Peter spins around quickly and points a finger at the other vigilante.
"Don't- just don't." He grounds out, jaw clenched tight. Wade lightly slaps Peter's finger away from his chest and moves towards the younger man.
"No! I'm sick of this-" He waves his hands around Peter in erratic motions, "bullshit. You're isolating yourself and I'm tired of it. We're supposed to be friends, you're supposed to talk to me when you're going through shit. There is no better time to do that now." They're face to face and Peter can see the concern etched on Wade's face. It's almost scary to see him so serious, but Matt's death has sobered his personality a bit. Matt's death changed everyone.
"And what if I don't want to talk about it?" Is Peter's only response and Wade crosses his arms in front of his chest.
"Tough shit." Wade's expression softens a bit and he drops his arms. "Peter I just- I get it. Matt died and it really really sucks but that doesn't mean you need to go out here and be reckless. Do you really think Matt would want-"
"It doesn't matter what Matt would want! He's dead, Wade. It doesn't matter anymore." Peter's words echo off the walls and he takes a second to steady himself. "What Matt would've wanted for me doesn't matter because I don't think he wanted to be dead right now. Matt's wants are irrelevant." Wade rolls his eyes and begins walking away, pulling his mask back on his face.
"Fine, but if you get yourself killed, that's on you. I'm not going to be here to save your ass anymore." And with that, Wade is gone and Peter is alone. He growls in frustration and punches the nearest wall. His suit does little to absorb the impact and he can feel small cracks beneath his skin. It doesn't hurt as much as it would. Nothing does anymore. His entire world is just muted now. Deduced down to a low hum.
Wade's statement rushes through his head like a freight train. Maybe he would get himself killed, and maybe that's what he wanted. He wasn't sure, all he knew was he didn't want to be doing this anymore. Not without Matt. He didn't want to do anything without Matt, he just knew he had to. He couldn't suddenly disappear off the face of the Earth. Maybe getting killed while working wouldn't be so bad. It'd certainly throw suspicion off of him. He could see the headline. 'Spidermandies after a trivial fight with, insert name of the villain of the week.' It'd be easy.
And maybe he'd be able to see Matt again.
—
The dinner was nice. Peter wasn't exactly sure what compelled Matt to take him out on this specific night, but he couldn't exactly care. He was enjoying it too much to exactly care about anything other than the smiling man in front of him. The top two buttons of Matt's pale purple shirt were unbuttoned, a blazer hung loose on his shoulders. He didn't have a tie on, but Peter likes to imagine that a dark blue one would compliment the purple of the shirt. Not that it would matter to Matt, but Peter likes to imagine.
A breathy laugh escapes his throat as Matt says something back to him. They're quiet for a moment and Peter sips on the wine in front of him. Everything feels perfect. Over two years of a relationship and Peter has never been happier. Matt was everything that Peter could ever want. Sure, they would get into spats (mostly pertaining to their nightlife) but they worked through it. They made it work and Peter had never been more thrilled to be with a person.
"Three years ago." Matt breaks through Peter's remembrance session and a confused look is drawn across Peter's face. Matt's smile has dimmed but it's still there.
"Hm?" Was Peter's response and Matt set down the glass that he held between his fingers.
"Frank walked away from me, three years ago today." Peter nodded along and hummed slightly, making sure Matt knew he had his full attention. "For the past two years, this day felt dull, dry. Not because of you, never because of you. I love you more than anything, but I kept letting what Frank did get to me. I don't want this day to continue to affect me like that." The smile is back on Matt's face and before Peter even realizes what was happening, Matt is carefully slipping out of his chair and onto the floor. He's kneeling, balancing on one knee, and Peter can't breathe. His chest is tight and Matt is already speaking before Peter can get control of his emotions. "I love you, Peter, and I want to be with you forever. So, will you marry me?"
Peter is shocked, frozen in place for a minute. His brain doesn't seem to catch the drift and his emotions are reacting before he does. Tears are streaming down his face and a huge smile is on his face. He's somewhat aware that there's people around him, watching with an acute attentiveness to see what he does and how he reacts. He doesn't pay attention to them, because all that matters is Matt and the sparkling silver ring nestled inside of a blue velvet box.
Soon enough Peter finds his words, speaking through the tight lump that's lodged in his throat. "God, Matt, of course." He's nodding his head up and down and his hands are finding Matt's face. He brings the man towards him, meeting him halfway as they both stand from their positions, lips connecting in euphoric bliss. Peter listens to the muted claps of the restaurant around him, but as far as he's concerned, its only him and Matt. They're the only two here, trapped in their own world in which no one can touch them. Just happiness in each other.
—
His legs dangled weightlessly beneath him, swinging back and forth off the edge of the bridge. The water below laps slowly, the natural current carrying it towards the nearby bay. The lights from the surrounding buildings cast a low glow and Peter can see outlines and shadows of plants on the water. The familiar area of Mill Creek brings him some comfort. Reminders of summers before his parents died and restless nights where he wouldn't dare wake aunt May all flash past. So do the memories of Matt, the long walks they'd take around, throwing pennies into the river, not because they believed in luck or wishes, but because there would forever be a reminder of them out in the world.
The thought makes Peter want to scream. Matt isn't here but somewhere at the bottom of the river, or in the bay, there's a reminder of him. A reminder also sits tightly in his hand. The circle digs into his palms with how tightly he's clutching it, but he doesn't care. Maybe if he grips it hard enough it'll cause permanent scarring that he'll never be able to get rid of.
He evacuates the thought immediately and opens his fist. He wasn't here to keep the thing with him, he was here to throw it away, just as they'd done with the pennies before. Images of buildings are reflected off the silver as Peter twists it in his fingers. He stops, using the dim light to read the engraving on the metal.
Always and forever, the perfect calligraphy states. It makes Peter sick. A cruel twist of fate in which the statement is false. The promise that got broken. He remembers putting on the ring for the first time, the unfamiliar but comforting heaviness of the object. It felt like nothing after awhile, it became a part of him
But now, now he can barely stand to look out of it. It almost burns his finger whenever he thinks about putting it on. He tried, for Matt's sake. He kept it on for about a week before it became too much and he yanked it off, throwing it across the room. He'd picked up and hoped maybe it chipped or cracked or something, but it sat perfectly, just as the day he had first put it on. It infuriated him, but he just threw it in a side table drawer and moved on.
Except he didn't move on and he constantly thought about the metal object that was sitting, collecting dust in his apartment. He couldn't stand it anymore. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with it at first, but an impulsive decision had him snatching it out of the wood casing and brought him down here.
Tears are stinging in his eyes and he can't look at it anymore. He tears his gaze away from the object and takes a deep breath. In a split second he raises his hand and chucks the thing. He listens as it makes a plopping sound in the water. Peter's face feels wet and he's aware of the tears dripping down his cheeks. He thinks about wiping them away, but doesn't make any effort to do so. He lets them almost freeze on his face, the wind combined with the liquid causing a chill to run through his body.
He sits there, staring at the area the ring had fallen in. There's an irrational part of his brain that's telling him to jump into the water and get it back. The rational part knows it's long gone and that's what he wanted.
It still stings. A pang to his chest as he forces down the sobs that threaten to escape. His heart hurts. Everything inside of him hurts and he can't do anything to fix it. He thought getting rid of the ring would make him feel better, but it doesn't. He feels the exact same. Stuck and lost in a moment, a life that he'll never get back.
—
Laughs boomed through the closed off area. The cool, but not freezing cold, breeze brushed past them. Peter had his arm around Matt's waist, the man leaning his weight against Peter. His body was warm, contrasting the night air. Everything felt right. It was perfect, everything he could ever want.
He watches on as Foggy and Danny dance around each other, Colleen and Karen giggling behind them. Even Jessica has a smirk on her face, Luke and Claire shining similar smiles. Aunt May is sitting at a table, drinking water and laughing along with Jessica's friend, Trish. The atmosphere is lively and Peter basks in it.
Matt peels himself away from Peter and his gaze follows the other man's. He quickly gets the hint and grabs Matt's hand, pulling them towards the makeshift dance floor. The song changes from an upbeat one to a slower one and Peter holds Matt close. They both lean down, fitting together perfectly, the matching puzzle pieces they discovered themselves to be what feels like forever ago.
As they sway, the world fades away. Everything has been narrowed down to just him and Matt, a moment he'll savor forever. They've done this once before tonight, but everyone was watching them then, and it didn't feel the same. Now, nobody's paying attention to them (as far as Peter knows) and Peter feels like he can focus on just Matt. His husband. God it feels amazing knowing that Matt's his husband.
"You're happy." It's not a question, but a statement. When Peter leans his head away from Matt's, he sees the bright smile on his face. Peter nods before answering.
"Yeah, I'm happy. Really happy." Matt hums and they continue swaying, Peter staring into Matt's glasses and Matt looking god knows where.
"Did you think you were going to be doing this with someone else?" Matt asks and Peter knows he's been thinking about it since they got engaged. He can tell.
"After Gwen, I didn't think I was going to be doing this at all." He pauses and thinks for a second before continuing. "But at one point, I imagined being here with Gwen." Matt hums again and Peter feels the need to explain. "Not that I didn't think I'd be here with you. I was scared for a while, scared that maybe this wouldn't last. Something would go wrong, I just felt it."
"But it didn't." Matt cuts him off and the smile comes back on Peter's face.
"No, no it didn't. And I'm really glad it didn't." Peter leans forward and their lips meet each other. It's soft and quick. They separate and Matt's dopey grin has Peter mirroring him.
"And it won't. Because we've got each other. Always and forever."
"Always and forever."
—
Wet leaves crunch under Peter's feet as he makes his way through the familiar place. The soil and grass are wet, residue from last night's heavy rain. It almost made Peter rethink coming today, but he had to. He couldn't miss it. It could still be raining and Peter was going to make the trip. This was too important for him to not come.
He stops, eyes falling upon the gray slab Peter had placed in that exact spot. It's in Hell's Kitchen, and Jack Murdock's own gray slab is placed not too far from his son's. His eyes trace the lettering etched onto the rock, the familiar words that he had placed there tease him. It's a nice statement, sums up Matt quickly, but Peter wished he never had to choose what to put on his own husband's gravestone. Peter takes a deep breath, preparing himself for what he has to say.
"Hey Matty." He starts, and the lump in his throat has already formed. "I uh." He tries to continue before he stops, unsure what to say. What do you say to your dead husband? "It's been a year. You know that of course but- Jesus Christ." He breathes out, lowering his head. A small laugh escapes his lips as he does. "I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe you're making me do this. Talking to a dead person, how sane of me." He sniffles as he feels the snot start to drip from his nose. "I'm so mad at you. So fucking angry." He states and he's not exactly sure where it came from. Truly this is the first time in a year that he's allowed himself to express his true emotions about Matt's death.
"You broke our promise. It was always and forever, right? What a load of shit." He practically spats at the rock. "You told me always and forever then went a fucking left me. Died on me. What kind of person does that?" Peter realizes just how irrational and fucking insane he sounds, but he can't stop. He's so angry that he barely understands what he's saying as he says it. "If I had known you were going to do that to me, I wouldn't have married you at all." Lie. He's lying now. It's pathetic. He would have married Matt anyways. Matt was his destiny.
"I miss you so fucking much." He sobs out and it's the only truth he's told so far. "You know when Gwen died, I didn't think I was going to recover. I didn't think I'd be able to move on. I told myself I wouldn't. Then I met you. You with that stupid dorky smile and the most beautiful eyes. I thought maybe I could have something, thought maybe I could move on. You told me I could, made me believe it. And then you died. You died and everything I thought we could have was gone. It hurt worse than Gwen. At least when she died I knew there was nothing I could do to prevent it. She was dead either way. But you could have stopped yourself from dying. You made that choice and I can't fucking believe you'd do that to me." He really hopes no one is around to hear his angry rant at his dead husband. It's pitiful and embarrassing and all around a terrible look. "You left me alone because you were too much of a damn hero to think about yourself for once."
Tears are streaming down his face and his chest feels tight. "I love you so much, Matt. I-" His chest rattles with a sob. "I don't think I can keep doing this without you."
—
Peter needed to make a deposit, that was it. That was all they had come in for. His latest gig had offered a hefty check and Peter didn't feel comfortable having it in the house for any longer than necessary. He was going to go by himself, but Matt insisted he go with him. Peter figured it'd be a nice little outing for them. They've both been busy with work, Matt taking on more cases and Peter had back to back gigs that barely allowed time for breaks. He thought it'd be fun to go out with his husband for a change.
He only wishes he could tell his past self how fucking wrong he was.
The bank was quiet when they arrived, only a few attendants and a couple other patrons were milling around, but it was otherwise empty. Peter was up at one of the booths, smiling at the teller as he handed her the check and his ID. Matt was sitting on a bench near the door adjusting the glasses on his face. As Peter reached through the box to grab his ID, the hairs on the back of his neck. He spun on his heels quickly, trying to find the source of whatever was making his sense go crazy.
He quickly found it as two people pushed their way through the entrance and shot up towards the ceiling. Peter flinched and crouched down, eyes scanning the building for Matt. He found his husband in a similar position, except Matt was right in front of two little boys and what looked to be their mother.
"Move over there, now!" One of the intruders yelled. Big guy, almost as big a gun, and a voice that sent chills down Peter's spine. The guy's gun was trailed on Matt and Peter swore his heart was going to beat out of his chest. Peter watched as Matt stood his ground, planting himself closer to the children and refusing to move. He'd find the act endearing if they were in any other situation than the current one. He suppressed a hiss as the guy yelled once again. "Move now! Last warning!"
Peter could make some smart remark about how this was only the guy's second warning and maybe shouldn't be his last, but the only thing he can mutter is towards Matt. "Just listen to him, Matty. Just move." His words are softer than he means to be because truly he wants to scream at Matt to get out of the fucking way. He guesses a rational part of his brain takes over at one point and stops himself from making the situation worse.
"Listen to the pretty boy, move or I'm gonna blow your brains out." The guy raises his gun a bit and Peter knows Matt can hear his heartbeat stutter. A few seconds pass and no one moves and all of it feels like it's going by too slow. And just when it seems like there's hope, Matt's body twitches as he goes to move away when suddenly a loud bang is resonating through the open area. Peter closes his eyes for a second and just for that second he sees his and Matt's life together flash past. Their first meeting, the first time they had sex, getting together, restless nights where neither could sleep, engagement and marriage, Peter loving Matt with everything in him for the past eight years.
Once his eyes are open, he wishes he could go back to that blissful second where Matt was in some sort of limbo of existence. That isn't reality though, and Matt is currently lying on the floor, hand clutched to his chest. His breathing is shallow and the gray t-shirt he had put in this morning is soaking up mass amounts of blood. His glasses were obviously knocked off his face and his eyes were searching around frantically.
Peter has a few seconds where she's not completely sure he's breathing. His chest feels all tight and his eyes are locked on Matt's body, watching as his husband's chest slows its constant rising and falling. His heart hammering against his chest is the only thing that can break him out of the spell, and once he's out, everything comes spilling out.
"No! No what'd you do! He was moving, you could have waited!" He screams at the guy who shot Matt. The man is looking over Matt, head only rising when Peter starts screaming. Peter's legs are shaky but he attempts to stand. One of the other robbers comes up behind him and grabs him. His wrists are held together tight, but Peter struggles against it, crying out again. "Stop! Stop, I need to help him! He's going to die if I don't help him, please!" He's desperate and he can hear other patrons begging him to be quiet but he can't. He can't stop because Matt is going to die if he doesn't do anything.
"He should've moved. This is all on him." Peter wants to rip the guy's vocal cords out of his throat. His voice is grating in Peter's ears and it sends him spiraling.
"He was moving, you just didn't give him enough time! I saw him! Please, that doesn't matter anymore, I just want to help him!" The tears drip quickly down his face, fast tracks that run like rivers on his cheeks. They sting and burn his skin and his eyes feel like they're going to melt. They've been forced open for too long, but he can't take his eyes off Matt. Peter isn't even sure if Matt's breathing anymore. His eyes are still open but they're not moving around anymore. A sob is ripped from Peter's throat and he can't even care to struggle anymore. His legs give out and his knees collide with the ground, hard.
The guy behind him lets go and he goes about his business. The one who shot Matt is standing guard, pacing back and forth in front of the door. Peter uses what little bit of strength he has to crawl towards Matt. Matt's body. If gun guy notices, he doesn't seem to care anymore. Once Peter reaches Matt, his impulse is to search for a heartbeat. His fingers wrap around Matt's wrist, index and pointer resting against the familiar pulse point. He waits, and waits, and waits, but nothing happens. There's no rapid, or weak heartbeat. There's nothing. Just Matt's still warm skin.
Another sob wracks Peter's body and he lets Matt's wrist go. He scoots towards Matt's head, placing his hand on his husband's cheek. He turns the man's face towards his own. Matt's eyes are empty, there's nothing left. It makes Peter want to throw up. He brings up his other hand and brushes his fingers over Matt's eyelids, pulling them down gently so that they cover his eyes.
His head falls forward without any prompting, and within the second his forehead is making contact with Matt. His eyes close, and all he can see is Gwen. Matt meeting Gwen. For the longest time Peter thought they'd get along. Maybe that's the sick part of it all. They'll get to bond in the afterlife (or what fucking ever it is that's out there) over Peter just not being enough. Not being able to save either of them.
Words slip from Peter's mouth, they're useless and futile but he has to same them or he's sure he'll never breathe properly again. That'll probably happen anywhere, but it might help a little bit. At least it does at the moment. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Matty. I tried I-" He chokes on his words and tries his hardest to reel in his breathing to somewhat normal levels. "I didn't get to say goodbye. I just wanted to say goodbye."
He goes into shock after that, losing time, and later, they're finally out of the bank and an EMT is rolling Matt's body into an ambulance with Peter watching from the sideline. There's a shock blanket around his shoulders and he wants to beg them to let him go with Matt. They'll say no, he knows this. It's just transport. Following a protocol that states they have to take a body for proper pronunciation of death. Peter knows this, but he stands there watching as a part of his heart rides away from the scene in a quiet ambulance. No sirens, no lights, they're not in a hurry. Matt's already dead and so is Peter. It doesn't matter that he's standing there physically, Peter will never be the same. He's already dead and the universe knows it.
—
The wind whips around him, tossing his grown out hair around, forming knots in the brown strands. It doesn't matter, it won't matter ever again. Rain droplets drip from the tips of his clumped together hair. They run down his face and soak the fabric of his clothes. His shirt sticks to his skin and his jeans feel heavy. He doesn't feel right now, he feels like he should be more dressed up. Something nice to meet his fate in.
That is what he's doing up here, waiting in silence as a storm brews around him before he makes possibly the easiest and hardest choice he has to make. Of course it can't be the easiest, marrying Matt was the easiest choice he's ever made. It can't be the hardest, the hardest was not fighting against the robbery that day. This falls somewhere in the middle, yet on both sides of the extreme. He wants to do this, he knows he does, but he isn't sure if he's ready for what follows. He figures what the hell? What's the worst that could happen. Hell? He already lives in a hell of his own making, nothing a possible evil entity could do will ever compare to what he constructed for himself.
There's also the possibility of a heaven, and in that case he'll know when he's made the right decision. He'll see Matt's face once again and everything that's happened will suddenly disappear. They'll have their always and forever.
Peter looks down, looking for signs of life in the dark alleyway. There's a rat that scampers by, a cat on its tail, but that's it. Good, that's how he wanted it. When Peter made the decision, he didn't want an audience. He didn't want to come close to being talked down and he didn't want to be pitied. He just wanted to get it done and over with so he could finally, finally move on.
He takes a deep breath, looking back up and his body begins to relax. The muscles in his legs become looser and he knows it's time. He's ready. With one final look towards the sky, Peter says a quick goodbye to everyone. An 'I'm sorry' goes out to his closest friends. Wade mostly. He knows Wade would beat himself up for not being able to stop Peter. He feels bad for a second, but not enough that he's going to revoke his decision. Wade will understand eventually.
And with that, a foot comes forward off the ledge, the rest of his body falling quickly behind it. He closes his eyes and embraces it. Embraces the wind whipping his hair for the final time. The rain pattering on his face, the smell and sounds of Queens.
He reminisces while he's in free fall. He sees Matt flash behind his closed eyelids. He sees their first time, he can almost feel Matt's hands on his hips, his lips on his own. He watches as they say I love you for the first time. He can hear every time Matt has ever said the phrase, voice stacking on top of itself. He feels the weight of the thrown away ring on his finger. It makes him want to worry. What will Matt think if he sees him without the ring? He knows ultimately it won't matter, so he moves on. The wedding, sleepless nights, stupid fights that both were sure the other had started when it truly was themself, it all comes back in an explosion of too many memories. A tear slips down Peter's cheek, it had been forming from the moment he stepped onto the building. It mixes with the rainwater and Peter would normally wipe it away. That's hard to do when you're in mid air, he thinks to himself, like it's some sort of joke.
It almost is but he doesn't have any time to think about it. The last image flashes by. It's Matt, his hair tousled and his closed as he snores quietly. It was always one of Peter's favorite images. Matt, asleep with not a single care in the world. Matt always said he was creepy for watching him while slept, but he couldn't help it, and at this moment he's glad he didn't try to.
With one last breath, he feels his back land on the hard concrete before everything is gone.
Later, when the police are searching his body, they find a note in his pocket. They unfold it carefully, the picture of Matt that Peter had kept in his wallet falls into the officer's hand. Peter's last words are written on the paper and the officer feels a pang in his heart.
I love you. Always and forever.