Prelude
"Peter!"
Warm, sticky blood flowed through my fingers as I gasped his name, the same red liquid bubbling on my lips as I spoke, coating them like a thick lipstick.
Clenching my cold, numb, fingers harder on the wound at my throat, I stumbled back, watching him- the boy I had once detested, and then loved- take a step towards me.
His movements were weak. The science that gave him grace failing once again.
For the first time in a long, long time, he was that bumbling kid from Queens all over again. Not a superhero. Not my whole world. Just a kid with glasses and a backpack bigger than he was.
I thought I would be trying to memorise his face -that perfect face- and body beneath his suit as I sunk to my knees, drinking in the last sight of him. But instead, my eyes were on his. He couldn't take a step further. Couldn't hold my face in his hands and kiss my temple.
And the strength in my body was already failing. I surely could not go to him.
All I could do was watch those wet dark eyes, and pray that somehow, some way, he wouldn't be able to watch this. Peter could close his eyes now, even if it meant I couldn't stare into them for bravery. That he wouldn't watch as another was ripped from his life, their death always beyond his control. Beyond the abilities the world coveted.
He was speaking, lips moving like a prayer. But I couldn't hear it. Couldn't hear anything past the buzzing in my brain, boring into my eyes.
Those eyes began to shutter, the pain of my mortal wound still numbed, but by the river of blood pouring from between my cold fingers, I knew that it would not be long.
Somehow, despite the exhaustion clinging to my every vein forcing me to blink, I kept my eyes wide, watching his.
Close your eyes Peter.
A hand, fingers like ice on my right collar dug into my flesh, dragging me backwards.
I watched Peter, my entire world, his body tensed and face contorted in agony as he tried to move. He was a spider caught in the sight of a far more lethal predator.
That hand on my collar tightened, and my legs left the ground, my vision rocked as I flew backwards, the biting cold hand leaving my skin as my body was thrown away from Peter. Away from the predator standing between us.
I barely caught a glimpse of the red from his suit, tried to whisper to him though my bloody lips surely made no sound as I fell over the chasm's edge.
Earth surged past, and even when he disappeared from my sight. I kept my eyes open, watching the stars, the constellations, as ground inevitably rose up to meet my body.
What a beautiful night to die.