Spider-Man Oneshots

14. Birthday Cake

Summary: Peter's life through loss and love

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You called with the news, I thought you were kidding

"Hey, Pete? I need to talk to you for minute." Uncle Ben said, his eyes watering slightly.

"Okay Uncle Ben!" little Peter exclaimed.

Ben stiffly took a seat on a nearby armchair, motioning for Pete to sit on his lap. Little Peter gently put his lego pieces on the ground before bounding up to Ben and jumping onto his lap.

"Pete," ben started, a crack in his voice. "Your Mommy and Daddy died in a plane crash."

Peter looked at his uncle confused. "What does that mean?"

"Well, when you die, your heart stops beating. You stop breathing. Pete, they're not coming back."

A few tears welled up in little Pete's chocolate brown eyes.

"So, they won't be there to tuck me in at night, or snuggle with me?"

"No, they won't, but life is going to go on. We're going to be okay. It's a tough time right now, but we have things to look forward to."

"We do?" The tears started to gush down Peter's face, along with Ben's.

"Yeah we do! We're going to make a birthday cake tomorrow and we can try to eat it all in one sitting!" Ben laughed shakily.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

You were always joking all the time

"With great power comes great responsibility." Ben weakly told Peter.

"Uncle Ben! No! NO! Come on, Uncle Ben! Wake up! Please! No! No...."

Ben's lifeless eyes stared up at a 14 year old Peter.

"Help! Somebody help! Help!"

Eventually the police showed up.

One kind-eyed officer put a hand on Peter's blood drenched t-shirt. Peter was in shock. This wasn't real. This can't be real. Ben was still alive. It was a practical joke. Deep down, Peter knew he wasn't dreaming. It was happening all over again.

"Hey, bud. Let's go to my squad car and we can talk, alright?"

They say everything happens for a reason

Peter stood in his fully black suit. He stared vacantly at Ben's newly dug grave.

The upturned dirt made his stomach churn, knowing that the only father figure he had left was under there. Peter was the only one left.

Through the pouring rain, he thought about whether flowers would grow on his grave. Ben would have liked it.

The priest made his way over to Peter with an umbrella. They stood in silence for a few moments until the priest spoke.

"It must have all been in God's plan." he said, trying his best to comfort the teen.

"To Hell with God's plan. My uncle is dead."

But it only makes you mad

"Please come out of your room Peter." Aunt May pleaded through the locked door.

Peter wasn't eating. Wasn't sleeping. The grief was drowning him, and he couldn't do anything to stop the water from filling his oxygen-starved lungs.

"Go away Aunt May. Please."