Peter Parker & Gwen Stacy One Shots

Reminders of You

TRIGGER WARNING; Contains heavy angst, grief and themes of death and loss.

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Peter heaved a sigh as he materialized in his bedroom back in his own universe. A part of him was relieved to be home, in the reality that he knew best, but there was another part of him, that now that he was home, didn't quite know what to do with himself. Peter one had his MJ, and Peter two had his own MJ to go back to. Then there was himself. Of course, he had his Aunt May, but that didn't stop the empty feeling from creeping back upon him.

He couldn't get his mind off of the events of the night; working with two strangers that he'd never met, yet instantly was drawn to them as though they were his brothers that he'd known his entire life. Though what was playing on his mind more was one moment in particular. MJ had fallen and he had been the one to save her. He was happy that Peter one didn't have to suffer the way he had when he'd lost Gwen, and in a way, it was comforting to know that they would get to be happy because he had caught her.

But it did not take away the pain. Instead it acted only as a painkiller; easing it for a while but eventually it returned. And usually, when it did, it was with a vengeance.

He didn't understand. He had saved MJ. So, why couldn't he save Gwen?

With the lingering question, he threw his mask down on his desk and quickly pulled on some pajamas before his Aunt May could come knocking. His eyes were growing heavy and his body ached still a bit from the fight, and the moment he laid his head down upon his pillow, his eyes fluttered closed and he fell vastly into a deep sleep.

He didn't know exactly how much time had passed, but when he woke up the room was still plastered in darkness with the moonlight streaking the room being the only source of light. He peered into the darkness with hooded eyes and closed his eyes again as his imagination ran wild. Though he soon turned over to the other side as he found himself unable to get comfortable.

As he settled into his new position, he opened his eyes once more and almost fell off the bed in shock. Laid in front of him, with her body parallel to his own, and her blonde hair sprawled out behind her, was Gwen. Not the distorted, broken visions he'd been seeing in his nightmares since her death, but Gwen Stacy as he always knew and loved her. He could just make out the shape of her face in light provided by the moon and her eyes that bore into his own. Before he could stop it, a whimper escaped from his throat and he swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat.

"It's okay, Peter." Her soft voice traveled through the air almost like a lullaby.

He couldn't speak. He didn't know what to say, and when he opened his mouth all that came out was a choke that set free unshed tears from his eyes. This didn't go unnoticed by her as she reached out with her right hand and caressed his face gently, catching and wiping away each tear that fell with her thumb. It was only then that he was able to find his voice.

"No." He shook his head. "It's not okay, Gwen. I- I should have saved you." He stammered, sniveling as he unsuccessfully attempted to pull himself together. "It's my fault. Everything... it's my fault."

Gwen's expression twisted into a pained one and she appeared to be struggling with her own tears. "You can't think that way. It's not your fault, okay? None of this is your fault."

"I- I saved her tonight. She fell, and Peter- the other Peter, couldn't catch her. So I saved her." He cried. "Why couldn't I save you?" He questioned.