(Presumed Dead) - Take My Heart Clean Apart
“The moon is a loyal companion.
It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human.
Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.”
-Tahereh Mafi
It was beautiful. Maybe it was because he couldn’t move, the ice water sucking all of his energy straight from his bones. Peter held his breath, floating - drifting down towards the bottom of the lake. He had turned to see Hammer, eyes wide and unseeing - dead. His kidnapper was dead. He figured that he should feel some relief from that fact, but he didn’t feel much of anything right now.
He gazed up - though the hole that he had fallen through. It was beautiful. Pitch black water - a galaxy broken by death - with a gaping hole, the full moon shining down brightly on his face, begging to be seen. He reached a hand up towards it - staring at the blue light it cast in awe.
His chest was getting tight, his leg ached, his head pounded. He didn’t care. The moon. It was so peaceful. Calling to him, beckoning that he have peace. Peace with the darkness that would inevitably swallow him whole - the darkness that he leached so many people that he loved. He had always hated that darkness - yelled and cursed and cried. Kicking and punching, hoping to damage something infinitely more powerful than he. That if he could just yell loud enough, or grieve with enough passion, the darkness would surely give him back his family. Re-stitch the heart that world was so positively set on destroying.
But as he grew closer to the bottom, he felt the peace that came with it. He didn’t have to fight or kick or scream anymore. He could close his eyes and relax. Not fearing the future, not worrying about getting better.
His chest was too tight. He breathed out. Little bubbles of his breath - floating to the top. He imagined them hitting the surface and screaming. Raging for the life left unlived. Fighting in his wake.
He didn’t try to stop the rush of the chilled water. It hit his lungs like a hammer and he gasped. His body spasmed - a great pain overwhelming him. Peter blinked, his body stilling as though it had been paralyzed.
The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves.
He doesn’t want to leave Mr. Stark and May - knows they’ll be desperately grieved. But as the darkness floods into his vision, as he blinks one last time - staring at the palid loneliness of the
moon - he knows that this was his destiny. And he doesn’t fear it.
-
For all the darkness and grief that had pulled him straight to the bottom of that lake - when he opened his eyes it was all light and beauty and comfort. Peter felt tears in his eyes - and for the first time in a long time they were good tears.
He was sitting on a couch that he recognized all too well. It was May and Ben’s old apartment, before Ben was killed and May moved them. She couldn’t stand to be in that apartment, seeing Ben in everything she did - it hurt too much.
The couch was a worn-out plaid couch that squeaked with every move you made, but wow had he missed sitting on it.
Peter looked around the room. It was just like he remembered it. Then he heard them. Voices coming from the balcony. Ben had always loved that balcony. He spent every morning on it, with a cup of coffee and the newspaper - waking Peter up as he would whistle his favorite song right outside his nephew’s window.
Peter stood quicker than he ever had - relishing in the fact that he felt no pain. In two steps he had bound outside and - oh God. It was everything he had dreamed of for so long.
“Mom? Dad?” He didn’t remember much about his parents. A few things, like his last Christmas with them, or how they said goodbye before they got on that airplane, but they were exactly like he remembered. His dad, tall and nerdy and with those round-frame glasses that were ingrained in Peter’s memory. His mom, with her short brown hair and her kind eyes and soft smile. He dove - crushing them both in a hug at the same time. Tears streamed down his face and he didn’t care at all. His mom was crying and running her fingers through his hair, his dad kept rubbing circles into his back. Peter would have been content to stay there all day, had it not been for -
“Ben?” He questioned quietly, terrified that he may be wrong? That this could be another nightmare. But then he turned, his parent’s releasing him for a moment.
“Hey, Pete.” His uncle’s voice, so quiet and kind. Holding every bit of warmth that Peter had remembered. He turned, and he cried because he had missed that face more than anything. Ben’s
death had done - terrible things to him. Peter lunged, and folded himself into Ben’s chest, weeping openly.
“Ben - Ben - I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, I should have-” Ben just squeezed Peter, so tightly, his large hand on the back of Peter’s head, pulling him into his chest.
“Hey, none of that now. You know better than to blame yourself for that. It’s in no way your fault. I never blamed you- not once.” Peter continued to cry, but he felt himself release a breath he had
been holding in for too long.
“I love you - I love you, and I’ve missed you so much. May - she does too.” He muttered as Ben continued to hush him. Peter stood there until his eyes dried. He could feel Ben’s mouth moving, as though he were talking to someone. Then he heard her voice.
“What about me, Tiger? Am I good enough for a hug?”
And God, if he hadn’t heard that voice in every nightmare he had ever had. In every waking moment. Had he not heard her voice in the passing of a taxi cab, in every ring of the school bell that
carried her laugh, he had imagined this exact moment since their last one together.
He turned around, slowly. Afraid that he had been imagining it.
But there she was, the sun behind her head, creating a perfect halo around her dark curls. Her eyes were everything home. And with a bravery he had never possessed, Peter grabbed her face and kissed her.
With every inch of passion and grief he had ever felt. Tears mixing into their kiss, the taste of salt making Peter kiss her harder. He felt her fingers, at the back of his head, through his hair, squeezing his arms as he kissed her and kissed her until his breath left him.
Peter put his forehead up to hers and just breathed in.
“I missed you - I, oh God, I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, Pete.” She whispered, her voice barely making it to his ears.
“I’m so sorry - I tried - I thought that I’d - I’m so-” She pulled him into her arms that time, shushing him.
“Hey, it’s not on you. I’m happy here. I never once blamed you, never once. So don’t do that to yourself.”
He took her hand and turned to see the rest of his family.
“Where - where is here?” He asked, though he was certain he knew. Ben leaned against the balcony rail, smiling softly.
“You’re almost there, Pete.” He said. Peter blinked, and when he opened his eyes again his surroundings had completely shifted. He was standing at the edge of a cliff, his family surrounding him.
There was a bridge over a roaring ocean, and it was met by a bright, shining light.
“What is this?” He asked MJ, turning to her as her hand squeezed his tightly.
“It’s the stepping off point.” She whispered, and Peter nodded. He had known he was almost dead, but he knew in his gut that if he stepped onto that bridge, that would be no returning.
“What’s it like?” He asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“It’s - it’s everything, Peter.” She said, her lips playing at the grin that he adored.
Peter saw his parents and Ben as they watched him.
“It’s time, pal.” Ben said quietly.
“Time for what?”
“Whatever you choose. You can come with us, or you can go back. It's your choice.” Ben said it in a way that had Peter knowing he wouldn’t judge him.
“Come on, kid! Don’t you dare!”
Peter could hear that voice, and he gasped at the pain in his chest. Something snapping inside of him.
“Where will you go?” He asked all of them.
“Please! Peter, don’t- don’t leave me now!”
“We will be right here, waiting for you next time. If that’s what you choose, son.” His father said, and Peter turned to look at Michelle.
“I can’t-I can’t do this without you! Don’t let this be it - God don’t take him away from me!
“Don’t rush yourself. It’ll be the blink of an eye, Pete. Do whatever you have to do.” She whispered, leaning in to kiss him again.
“Please.”
“I love you.” He whispered back. And with his heart ripping out his chest, he took a step back. He watched the four of them, as they turned to smile at him. “You’ll be here next time?” He asked,
the fear evident in his voice.
“Right here, waiting to walk with you again.” Ben said, and Peter nodded, assuring himself that this was the right thing to do.
“I love you all so much.” They all smiled back at him. And, turning, they stepped onto the bridge and Peter’s knees buckled. He watched until they disappeared, engulfed by the light.
Crunching, tightness, he couldn't breathe. He was choking. Something was coming up his throat.
“That’s it, buddy! Come on, Peter! Come on, Peter!”