Narrative: When Peter loses his holiday spirit, three ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future takes him on a reflective journey through time to remind him what the true meaning of Christmas is about.
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When Peter opened his eyes again, he found himself tucked in his bed. The tear dried but he could still feel it on his face. Was it all just a dream? He couldn't tell. Peter didn't know what was causing all these apparitions to course through his mind, but he hoped that was the end. Unfortunately, life wasn't that considerate. And that wasn't the case when he felt his blanket being ripped off of him. Stripping him of the warmth and safety it provided.
"Get up," a familiar feminine voice told him. He groaned, realizing what he was going to face before sitting up and scouring towards the source of the sound. And what—more like who—he'd found made his voice hitch, "Liz." Standing not too far before him was a ghostly figure of his old crush emitting a red aura this time.
The color red always did suit her perfectly. At least that's what Peter thought, but before he could deeply ponder about her sudden appearance, the spirit had spoken. "Not quite," she replied and that's how Peter realized it was another spirit. "So who exactly are you?"
"I am the spirit of Christmas Present, but I think you already knew that," he nodded for in his mind, he did register the thought. "So I'm guessing you're here to show me the... present?" She rolled her eyes mockingly, "Wow, what great observational skills. But yes, I'm here to give you a reason why you shouldn't just let this Christmas or your whole life pass by you the way you're planning." Peter didn't get a chance to ask her to elaborate before the female had walked away from him and over to the mirror standing by his closet.
She beckoned him to follow and he quickly did so. Once they were both standing beside each other in front of the mirror, the spirit had spoken, "When you look into this mirror, what do you see?"
Peter stared a bit into his reflection, contemplating the question. What did he see in himself? "Nothing," he replied faintly. And it was true! When Peter looked in at himself he saw nothing he wanted to see. No one he was proud of. He felt like nothing and he felt like he had nothing. Nothing left to live for. So nothing had been the perfect description. The only answer he could think of.
"And what about now?" The mirror then rippled until a new image had formed. One with Aunt May in it.
May Parker sat on the edge of her bed, staring sadly at a frame in her hands. In the photo held her and her husband side by side next to Richard and Mary with a gleeful baby Peter in the middle of it all. Her heart ached to go back to that time... When they were all still here, and Peter was actually happy. All she wanted was the best for her nephew. After all, she was the only remaining family that he had. But because of recent events, he changed again. He suffered so much loss and pain that it finally caught up to him, affecting him—making him abandon all his hope, and she could see it. And she didn't know how to help him.
She sighed taking one last look at the photo before picking up another frame of just her and Peter. They were all that was left from the previous photo. She was all he had left. And May would never stop trying her hardest to be there for Peter because of it.
Peter felt the guilt consume him as they watched Aunt May let a tear slip from her eye. He wanted to hug her and apologize. He always felt like he was taking May for granted. She took him in after all. And she didn't have to—Peter wasn't her family by blood. But she chose to raise him and for that Peter will forever be grateful. His mind repeated the words over and over, wishing she'd hear it.
I'm sorry...
"You apologize far too much for things that aren't even your fault. Has anyone told you that?" It was as if the ghost had been peeking into his mind, but he couldn't disagree with her words. "Probably, but it mostly is my fault. I expected my parents to come back, but they didn't. I let Carradine get away. I ruined Liz's life. And if I had just listened to Tony and stayed back on Earth like he told me, maybe things could've been different? Maybe I could've had more time with him."
Peter's chest puffed up and down as he realized he was starting to raise his voice to the point that it cracked in the overwhelming pain he felt with each sentence.
"So you were supposed to know that your parents' plane was going to crash over the sea? You would've figured immediately that it was Carradine who robbed your house and shot your Uncle? You're telling me it was your fault Adrian Toomes was trafficking hybrid weapons when you were just a prepubescent tween without powers and incapable of doing anything to stop it? And yes, listening to Stark might've been the best decision, but you knew in your heart you had to do what a hero, like him, always does: putting the needs of the many first and saving the world from any threats. And he was damn proud of you for doing that. For stepping up and becoming the hero you were meant to."
Peter was at a loss for words, evaluating her own. It's true none of their deaths were necessarily his fault. But why did he feel he was still to blame? Why did it weigh so heavy upon his shoulders?
And as if she were reading his thoughts, the ghost of Christmas present—who was still in the form of Liz—spoke once more: "You think it's easier to blame yourself, because at least then you have some control of your emotions. Because if you allow in the possibility of the truth; that none of it was your fault nor could you have stopped it, then you'll be faced to deal with new emotions. With having to cope in a different way. And finally being able to let go and move on. But at some point Peter you're going to have to. To get past this "what if" state of your grief. Otherwise, it'll destroy you from the inside."
"You don't have to believe me, but you must know the damage you're doing by pushing the people that care about you away. By pushing him away," she stated as she pointed to the mirror again. It ripple into a new image with his best friend, Ned Leeds lying on his bed as he scrolled through his phone.
Ned had quite a hectic day, trying to plan and do a flurry of chores and tasks. But his mind often drifted to one person: Peter Parker. His best friend had been going through a lot and he felt helpless because no matter what he did, he couldn't cheer him up the way he use to be able to. He felt as helpless as Peter because there wasn't anything he could do to help him. Although he did have one more idea to try and that's what had kept him so busy.
Too busy that he didn't notice the sounds of shouting and things crashing within his household until just then. He winced hearing his parents argue so loudly, it could wake up the neighborhood. It's always been like this for Ned. His household wasn't the picture perfect family the movies would display. But he got through it. And often times, it'd be because Peter was at his side to help him. Now he wanted to return that gesture, because that's what best friends are for.
Peter gulped, realizing Christmas Present was right and something else too. He really hadn't been a good friend to Ned as of late. Or at least the kind of friend he needed. Because now that Peter was hurting, he wouldn't even give Ned the chance to help him the way the hero had always done for the other teen. To allow Ned to comfort Peter in his time of need. But that was something Peter always had trouble doing: allowing himself to be vulnerable to anyone else.
Maybe that was the reason he always felt he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Because he never let anyone share the burden with him.
"You don't have to go through it all alone, y'know." The spirit assured him, still somehow managing to read his thoughts and feelings. "There's so many people who are still by your side and want to be there."
A new image rippled through the mirror again. One of an unfamiliar bedroom, yet sat on the desk near the corner had been someone he knew quite well...
Michelle Jones was sat at her desk, scribbling away at a blank piece of paper. However after reading her last line, she realized how obvious she was being and mentally kicked herself. The letter was suppose to be one of a friend addressing another and wishing them a happier holidays. Not a full on confession of her infatuation with him that's been developing since the day they met. She sighed in exasperation, crumpling up the paper, then standing up to dispose of it and grab a new one.
As she exited the frame of the mirror's view, a black haired miniature schnauzer trotting in, took her place. Soon, Michelle made her return, calling to her dog to hop off her chair so she could get back to her task at hand. "C'mon, boy, you can sit up here," Michelle told the dog as she patted her lap. He'd done as commanded, situating himself on her lap as Michelle went back to rewriting her letter. Once she was finished, she placed the letter on an envelope and set it on top of a gift box on the side of her desk. She soon let out a tired yawn, and a rain of sleep overtook her as well as the dog on her lap.
Peter smiled at her sleeping image, wanting to push away the hair obscuring her resting face. As his hand made contact with the mirror in front of him, Peter felt himself falling through until he stumbled inside the very same room he had been staring at. Christmas Present followed along, watching in amusement at Peter's surprise. Peter looked around in confusion before his eyes then landed to the sleeping figure of the girl he'd often find himself thinking of. When he wasn't so occupied with his self pity and emotional torment.
He'd walked over to her, taking a glance at the letter he had seen her with earlier. "To Peter," was marked in the back. That made Peter's mood brighten a little, and made himself question if his feelings for her were reciprocated. If Michelle was one of the visions the spirit had demonstrated then it must have meant she was one of the people that cared for him. But before he could continue the thought, he'd seen her shiver slightly in her sleep. "Can I pick things up," he turned to the ghost in Liz's form. She nodded her head, and with that Peter proceeded to grab the smaller blanket from Michelle's bed and wrap it around her.
Just then, the schnauzer laying on her opened his eyes and began to start barking towards Peter. He'd gotten off his owner and over to the two ghostly figures. Peter tried his best to silence the dog, while turning to look at the spirit incredulously. "I thought nobody could see us," Peter stated, but was more so asking for confirmation. "They can't. But animals have different senses compared to humans," she informed him. Peter nodded then bent down to pet the small dog still yapping. He'd identify the boy as a friend than foe, and let Peter rub his belly to silence him.
When Peter turned to the ghost of Christmas Present once more, he saw her gesturing for him to follow her out the door of the room. He gave the dog one last pet, then stood to follow the apparition as they made their way out of Michelle's presence.
Peter had then entered a completely black room that began to form into one of a familiar living room belonging to the Stark household. Or what's left of it. On the couch of said living room sat Pepper and Morgan Stark with one Rhodey sitting on the arm chair nearby and Happy Hogan leaning on the doorframe of the entrance.
Happy smiled as what remained of Tony Stark's family were gathered together watching the classic holiday film, Elf, on the giant screen of the television. However a part of him felt as if there was something missing. Well actually, more like someone. He'd fished out his phone from his pocket and opened up his messages to stare at the long list of delivered ones sent to Peter. The boy hero and young prodigy Tony had been mentoring when he was still alive.
Happy hadn't heard from him since the end of the long battle with Thanos—since the funeral of Tony Stark. He had been left with the task to watch over the kid as instructed by Tony. And he's been worried that he hadn't been doing a good job, and over the teenage mutant too. It didn't help that the head of security himself had also began to grow fond of Peter. Though he'd never tell. He was also getting close to May Parker, but in a more intimate way. Yet again, that was something he wouldn't reveal, until the right time.
Hogan attempted to call Peter one more time, in hopes the boy had a change of mind, but like all his other attempts, he was left on a single voicemail. "Hi, this is Peter Parker. If I didn't answer the first two times, I'm probably not available. Or maybe I just didn't want to be bothered by you. Really varies if your name starts with Flash. If this is Happy about the Stark Internship, I'll make sure to call you back soon. So uh, okay, bye."
As the image began to slowly fade away, Peter could hear the sound of his phone ringing in the distance. He wanted to reach out for it, but when he spun around, he was surrounded by total darkness. No ghost beside him. Yet in a matter of seconds, the spirit's voice rung out all around the empty void.
"Don't you see, Peter? They care for you. And you for them. They don't want you to throw your whole life away. Neither would your parents, or your uncle. Nor Tony..." He nodded, finally understanding that it was true. Then the ghost continued on, "And yeah, it always hurts to know that some of the people that you love are no longer there. But don't push aside those who are still here. They're worth living for, and they think you are too. So, allow them to help you heal from that pain. Let yourself be vulnerable, Peter. That's the only advice I can offer."
Suddenly, images of everyone Peter cared for—at least those still around—started circling all around him. There was Ned and May. Happy, and Pepper, and little Morgan who never failed to make him smile. And Michelle's radiant eyes gazing into his. Then Liam who sat alone in his room at the orphanage, looking out the window in hopes to catch a glimpse of his favorite local superhero. There was the decathlon team and even Mr. Delmar. And all of Queens, New York that he had come to know and vowed to protect when he made the choice to become a hero.
With the images and their voices circling around him, Peter failed to notice the returned presence of Christmas Present. Until a hand was placed on his shoulder, distracting him from the fading images. "Do you understand now?" She asked once more. Peter, still in a daze, nodded, then swiveled over to the spirit and asked, "Well, how 'bout you—I mean, Liz. How is she?"
Peter still felt guilty over the way he left things with the girl. He needed to know that she was moving on from her life after having to deal with her villainous father. Christmas Present smiled at him before raising her hand to conjure up a new image.
At the foot of a crib in a newly painted room stood Liz Allan. The real Liz Allan who looked much older. And she was happy. Beaming almost. It was the start of something new in her life. To have a family with the man she loved. The one that was perfect for her. She could've spent most of her life thinking on the "what ifs" but instead she chose to rise from the issues of her past. The issue of her father and missed chances she left behind in New York. During the five year period where the universe was in chaos, she was left behind like some others, but she used it as a time to better herself.
And in that time she had found her happiness amongst the gloom. All leading up to now, where she was holding her daughter in her hands with the rest of her life figured out. And soon, a man entered in joining her, causing her smile to brighten even more.
"She's forgiven you, if that's what you mean," the ghost concluded. The teen felt relieved at her words and at the image. He was glad that despite whatever damage he had caused to Liz's life, it didn't permanently affect her the way he imagined. He saw a genuine smile that replaced the tearful face she had left with all those years. And he figured, in that moment, she was okay. Liz would be okay, and that's all he needed to know.
The image began to slowly move towards Peter, and he wasn't sure what to do. When it got near, he shut his eyes tight letting the image pass through him; and once he opened his eyes, he was back to where he started, standing in front of the mirror inside his bedroom.
oOo
Peter blinked again to make sure it was real, but when he looked, he was still standing in front of his mirror. He sighed, trying to decipher what all these weird dreams meant and what he needed to do. Then, as he turned to head back to his bed and just work it out in the morning, he saw another ghostly figure lying on the mattress in his place. The perfect image of none other than Tony Stark himself. Before Peter could get the urge to call out Tony's name in surprise, his mind forced his mouth to clamp shut, already realizing that he was, in fact, not Tony.
"Wait," Peter stopped the ghost, who had his mouth opened, probably ready to give out the same speech as the last two spirits. "Let me guess, you're the spirit of Christmas Future, and you're here to show me what my future will look like if blah blah blah..." Peter mocked, and that had amused the golden glowing ghost ever so slightly. "And I'm guessing you're the depressed smartass I have to teach a lesson to, huh," the ghost quipped back. And a part of Peter wanted to burst into tears at the sight and the sound of his former mentor, who wasn't actually him. Their exchange felt as if Peter were really talking to Tony, and his heart ached more at the thought.
Although, he couldn't let himself get distracted by it as the spirit hopped off his bed and towards him. "So, let's get this over with shall we," Christmas Future gestured, then raised his arm until what resembled the real Tony's repulsor formed around it. Peter's eyes widened in awe as a golden ring of energy emerged once the ghost fired the weapon. It opened up a portal of sorts where the beam was fired at, then the ghost looked to the hero once again. "After you."
Peter, reluctantly, moved closer to the portal, testing it out before finally entering through it. With the ghost in Tony's form following in tow, Peter and him were suddenly transported into the large room with open cubicles spread out.
"Where are we," present-day Peter queried. "This is Oscorp Industries. Basically your new home." "I work here," Peter looked around in shock. "Well it can't be me," the ghost jibed. Peter inwardly clicked his tongue. Were all spirits as sarcastic as the ones he's been encountering or did he just get the short end of the stick? He erased the thought from his mind as he heard someone call out his name.
"PARKER!" A voice rung out through the building floor, prompting a thirty-year-old Peter Parker to walk out of his lab and towards the source of the sound. In a corner nearby, stood one Norman Osborn with a crossed expression etched on his face. "Yes, Mr. Osborn," Peter questioned as he finally neared the man. "What's this about the A.R.L.O.W. project being delayed?"
"There was a malfunction during the beta test sir," Peter explained, "We'll have to run it again in order to find the cause." However, the older male looked none too pleased at this. "Well, what are you waiting for?" Norman was an awfully impatient business man and it took all of Peter's strength to not throttle in that moment. "But, sir, that'll take all night."
"I don't care if takes you a hundred years! Get it done." The man walked away from Peter without another word, but Peter's eye was twitching in vexation at his boss's audacity. Despite how much he execrated the man, he knew he needed to finish his work. Otherwise, it was his job on the line. So, Peter went on to run the test once more without any further complaints—at least, none said out loud.
When he opened the door to his lab, the setting soon changed as the time passed and he was entering into the dark background of his apartment. The man sighed as he set aside his lab coat and collapsed onto his couch. He was tired and aggravated and just wanted for life to hurry on. He looked around the room just for the sake of looking, until he noticed something perched on the coffee table nearby. It was an old frame carrying a picture of him and his aunt May. The same one present Peter had seen May hold onto a few visions ago.
And beside that frame was a shattered one holding a picture of him and the rest of the decathlon team. They looked happy. He looked happy. Peter doesn't believe he's been as happy since the moment the picture was taken. Life has really took a toll on him over the years. If only he could return to the past, he would do things differently. He wanted to be happy again.
Current Peter watched his future self with pity and almost disdain. Was this really how he would turn out later on? He'd gotten the job of his dreams as a physicist in quantum mechanics, but he looked miserable. And where was everyone else? Where was May, and where were his friends? "This is my future," Peter asked the spirit with incredulity. However, the ghost with his late mentor's face only shook his head. "No, no, this is only a possibility of the future, not exactly your future per say."
"So, you're saying this could happen?"
"Yes, but it really depends on the choices you make. Nothing is set in stone yet."
"Okay... then, what happened here? Where is everyone? Where's Aunt May?" Peter had a flurry of questions spinning rapidly inside his mind. "Your aunt is fine. You've just moved away from her. You're a grown man after all." "And Ned? ...MJ?" He asked again, but the ghost hadn't replied.
"A lot's changed Peter," Christmas Future finally explained. "Like what?! What the hell happened on Christmas?" Something drastic must've occurred for Peter's life to end up this way, and he was determined to find out what. "It's better if you see for yourself..."
When Peter woke up that Christmas morning, he scorned himself. His initial plan was to stay in bed the whole day and forget the holiday even existed, but the growling of his stomach and the sounds of the city's cheer woke him up. Irate with the noise, he got up off his bed and slammed his window shut, making sure it was closed good enough to tune out the outside world. Once he made it out his bedroom door, trudging to the kitchen, he noticed something different around the apartment.
There had been Christmas decorations all around that weren't there before, causing Peter to groan in annoyance. As he entered the small kitchen, he spotted his aunt preparing an assortment of dishes. When she spotted her nephew, she smiled at him. Greeting him with a "hello" and "merry Christmas."
"Aunt May what the hell is all this," he looked around in confusion. "Tsk," May voiced her displeasure at him, "Don't curse at me, young man. And it's Christmas! What do you expect?" Peter let his own disapproval be known, "May I said I didn't want to celebrate, and I meant it. I'll be in my room if you need me." With that, he made a hasty departure from the kitchen, retreating back to his room with an apple in hand.
By the time Peter woke up again, he heard a knock at his door. "Peter," May called out to him from the other side. "What is it Aunt May?" "Someone's here to see you." Peter shifted in his bed, grumbling. "Can't you just tell them to come later," he whined.
"Oh c'mon, Pete," a new voice entered the conversation, "It's Ned. Open up." "No," Peter still refuted. "I have the new lego Death Star set," Ned pleaded sing-song, "We can go finish it then play some extreme snow ball fight. C'mon you love snow ball!"
But his bribery failed when Peter countered, "No I don't. You do. I just want to stay here. Where it's warm and safe and away from you people!" He situated himself back on his bed with no other intention but to stay there.
"Peter, you need to come out of there sometime."
Peter was getting aggravated with everyone's persistence. He just didn't want to celebrate. Why couldn't they understand that? "No I don't! I don't need anything. Not this stupid weather, or this stupid holiday. And I certainly don't need you to try and cheer me up right now, Ned. So just leave me alone, please." There had been no response after that from the receiving end. Maybe he'd finally given up.
Meanwhile, in the hallway outside of the door where Ned was left to try and coax Peter on his own, he had grown silent with the other teen's last sentences. Peter didn't need him? He asked, although it had been more of a revelation. He'd wanted so hard to try and make Peter happy again, but it seemed that Peter didn't want his help. Didn't need him. It hurt Ned so much, he was just frozen in shock and pain. All his efforts were for nought; and in that moment, it was as if Ned had just lost his best friend. The real Peter was now nothing but a hollow shell of the person he once was. The person Ned considered his friend.
Ned finally allowed himself to walk away with the pain of Peter's words stabbing at his heart like an open wound. When he trudged over to the kitchen, he saw May turn to him with hopeful eyes, but they'd dim down again when Ned just shook his head as a signal of defeat. May felt bad for him, still not comprehending why Peter was acting the way he was. She watched as he continued to drag his feet toward the door and make his leave. However, he had been stopped by the sight of Michelle in front of the door once he opened it.
Michelle came over early to help for the surprise Christmas gathering May Parker and Ned Leeds were throwing for Peter, but when she saw Ned opening the door before she could even knock, she noticed something off about the scene. Ned looked as if his heart had been shattered into a million pieces. She almost wanted to reach in and pull him into a hug. What happened to him? She was about to find out.
"What's wrong? Am I too early?" Michelle watched him in anticipation. "No, no, you're fine. On time actually, but..." Ned paused, turning his head to stare longingly down the hallway of the apartment towards what seemed to be a bedroom door. Peter's room most likely. "The party's canceled. Sorry." Ned excused himself, navigating past Michelle to walk out of the building for... forever.
She furrowed her brows in confusion turning to the Parker adult who was moving towards her. "I'm guessing things didn't go well," Michelle assumed. She figured Peter must've declined from the look on both May and Ned's faces, but she realized there also had to be something more for Ned to look completely devastated. May shook her head in response, unable to give her a clearer answer. The Jones girl just stood there for a bit, contemplating. "Well, uh, I was just here to drop this off," she said as she held up the present and the letter along with it, "but..." She drifted off, eyes lingering on Peter's door.
May smiled at her, offering, "Would you like me to give it to him?" Michelle nodded back. Seeing the result of Ned's face, she could see Peter was still in a fowl mood and didn't want to spoil it even more by just being there. So after handing the items to May, she walked out of the building still in quiet anticipation.
Peter could've listened in to the muffled conversation from outside his bedroom walls, but like everything else he tuned it out. The next time he heard a knock on his door, there wasn't a response when Peter asked what the situation was then. Instead, there was just the sound of something being slid under his door and footsteps retreating away. Peter glanced down to spot an envelope with his name written on the back in familiar handwriting.
He got up off his bed, picking the item up and opening it to take out the letter addressed to him. Out of curiosity, he began to read it:
Dear L̶o̶s̶e̶r̶ Parker,
Hey! So, I've noticed you seemed a little down lately. A lot of us have actually. I'm not exactly sure what happened, and I know it's not really my business to ask, but I hope you're doing okay. And I also can't offer much assistance, but I can tell you this, Peter: you don't have to go through it alone. Whatever you're dealing with, whatever happened—just know that there are people by your side to help you. There's May, and Ned—who's been a bit of a pain in the ass lately because of you (fix it). Heck you have the whole team too—when Flash isn't being an ass. Even... even me. I'll be at your side if you need anything. Or if you just need a shoulder to cry on or someone to listen. Besides, I can't have my best member quitting on me now. And you're still my loser after all.
Yours Truly,
MJ
"MJ," Peter gasped in confusion as he finished the note. She must've came by and left this, he figured. He went over to his window, propping it open to see if he could still catch her, but after inspecting through the crowd below him, he found nothing. Little did he know she had only begun to make it out of his apartment building, just barely missing his line of sight. Peter sighed again as he leaned against his window staring down at the note.
Peter was unsure on how to feel about her letter. A part of his heart bursted in butterflies because the girl of his dreams actually seemed to care for him, yet another part ached because he wouldn't be able to respond to her the way he wanted to. He just needed time to clear his thoughts right now, and process everything. So, after placing the letter onto his desktop, the teen hero geared up in his suit, making sure May was occupied before swinging out of his bedroom window. to somewhere he could get the peace and quiet he aimed for.
However, Peter had made the mistake of leaving his window open. The winter wind took the opportunity and weaseled its way inside the room, tugging at the letter until it was lifted up and it too was escaping from the window. The paper flew out into the open air of Queens where it coincidentally landed on a small puddle Michelle was soon to come across. As she noticed the paper landing into the area of the mucky street water, she leaned over to pick it up before it got completely soaked.
When she looked over the sheet again, she realized it was the letter she gave Peter. What was it doing out here? Michelle was confused. She looked over to the side of the building and up to where Peter's bedroom window had been opened, but he was nowhere in sight. Did he purposely throw it away? Michelle pondered, and she suddenly understood the heartbreak Ned had felt as he walked out. With more questions running in her mind, the more Michelle misinterpreted the situation entirely. Peter had let her down as he did Ned. It was stupid of her to think she had a chance of changing his mind. Tears threatened to fall from her face, but Michelle was too proud to let anyone see her like that. So she hurried away from where she stood, never wanting to turn back to where Peter had disappointed her.
The real Peter, watching it all occur, wanted to jump into the scenario and fix it all. He hated seeing the pained face of Ned and Michelle that HE caused, but he knew he couldn't do anything. It was just a vision after all. Soon the setting shifted once again into what seemed to be like an airplane.
Flash forward to a few months later, school had come to its annual end and it was now time for the science class trip to Europe. Peter was groaning in annoyance. He couldn't escape the academic excursion as he signed up for it months ago. But that was when Ned coerced him to do it as an opportunity for him to hang out more with MJ. Now he had lost both of them because he couldn't move on from this depressed state he had been in.
And he couldn't face them again because he felt as if he'd fail them and that they'd never forgive him. That was, however, untrue. Michelle and Ned often stared longingly at the teen, wanting for Peter to join them once more and continue their friendship, but neither side seemed to enact forward with anything. It caused them to just keep on drifting apart from Peter.
Now he had to watch as Ned avoided him in the halls, and MJ was spending most her time with Brad Davis. The once young rascal in the middle school nearby who stayed behind during the decimation. Peter felt so jealous, yet also really regretful, because it should've been him that was making her happy. Making her smile. But instead she'd always frown when she looked his way. Peter fucked up. He really fucked up, but he couldn't do anything about it. At least that's what it felt like.
Throughout the whole trip, he was absolutely miserable. Until a new threat came along. One by the name of Mysterio. He had painted himself to be the good guy. The hero. But Peter had a bit of suspicion about it. And boy was he right to do so...
Now here he was, standing in a building, going against the actual teen Avenger with his illusions. And Peter, who's emotions muddled his senses, was falling for them every time. Green smoke started to circle Peter as he was clad in the old version of his suit. Or at least that's what Mysterio wanted him to think. The next thing he knew, he could hear a familiar voice echoing from the distance. It called out again, and he ran towards her, yelling out her name.
"MJ!"
"Peter? What's going on?"
Peter stared into her helpless eyes almost falling for another trick, but he turned away. "I know this isn't real!!!" He shouted into the air, trying to avoid the fake Michelle. "Do you though?"
Mysterio appeared in another gust of green smoke. Hand going straight for the illusion MJ's neck. She gasped for air, clawing at Mysterio's hand wrapped around her throat. It was then that Peter failed to detect the reality from the illusion, because he soon reached in and tried to grab for the girl. Unfortunately, Mysterio had let her go from the ledge she was practically hanging above, and she'd fallen straight to her doom. Which Peter absentmindedly dived down after her without second thought. Although, it seemed he was right before and she too had been an illusion as she disappeared into green mist once Peter's body made contact with the cement ground of the warehouse.
A few more illusions later, and Peter was brought into another one, but this time he was just surrounded into an empty abyss. As Peter squinted his eyes, looking to the other side of him, he noticed a figure in the distance. He ran towards it to see it had been Ned! Tied to a chair, but his body seemed lifeless. Peter ran more and more towards him although it felt as if time slowed down.
When he finally got close enough, he saw something warped about the image. There had had been a gash ringed around Ned's neck, blood oozing from it. The closer Peter got, it was clear that his body was completely unmoving. "Ned!" He shouted, still running.
"NED!"
And just as Peter was about to reach out for him too, making sure his best friend wasn't actually dead, a heavy force came into impact with his already worn out body. It had been another illusion that Peter realized he fell for again!
Despite the pain surging through his whole body and the incoherency, Peter could slightly make out what collided with him: a bullet train that ran through the tracks of Berlin. He used whatever remaining strength he had to keep himself onto the train, pulling himself inside as he busted its doors open. Through blurry eyes closing and opening every few seconds, Peter could barely see the path the train was taking. And suddenly... it all went blank. The world and his senses faded away.
"NO!!!" Peter shouted as he watched the end of the scene. His mind coursing through so many questions and emotions all at once. What exactly did he just witness? Who was this Mysterio guy and why had he seemed so bent on ruining Peter's life? And most importantly...
"What happened to them?!" He questioned the spirit of Christmas Future as he swiveled over to him. However, the ghost returned a grim smile Peter's only ever seen on Tony a few times before. Then, the man, like Mysterio's other virtual illusions, gradually faded and Peter was taken to the setting of what seemed to be the future he was shown earlier.
Although this time, he was on the streets of New York. The faint sound of his spider-signal ringing from the distance. There must've been some trouble for it to alarm him, but where was his future self? The figure seemed to be out of the picture. And when Peter looked down, he noticed he was in his suit. He looked around in shock trying to search for a clue. Until he saw two figures nearby and they appeared to be coming straight for him.
From one of the two forms was Mysterio, but beside him was someone unknown. Yet also vaguely familiar. The person was clad in a tacky blue and orange outfit with most of their head was covered by a hood, but he could see the glowing red eyes shining from underneath. And the more Peter contorted his face to detect who it was under the hood beyond the scaly yellow skin, he had gasped in shock as he realized. It was Ned! Again! But this time he looked real, no illusion to him. And he looked villainous. Out for Spider-Man's head.
At that, Peter's instincts kicked in on its own, leading Peter to run the opposite way from the danger ahead. As he ran, he started swinging through all of Queens, in hopes to evade them. Nevertheless, they still managed to go after him, but this time they were chasing him up in the air. Mysterio was flying beside the goblin like Ned, who was navigating an oddly shaped hoverboard.
Peter dodged every one of their attacks, often speeding up his swings even more when they came close. And just as it seemed that he had the advantage, he began to run out of webs. Using his last web to swing into a dark alley, Peter hid from the two foes searching for him up above. The moment they spotted him though, Peter continued to run away. Endurance and fear guiding him. But they had gotten closer and closer to capturing Peter, laughing maniacally.
A little further ahead, Peter could spot a similar portal to the one he entered at first opening up. From there he'd seen a hand pierce through, reaching out for him. He hurried his pace, stretching out his own arm until his hand finally gripped the offered one and he was pulled through the closing gateway.
Peter heaved as he saw he was finally back in his room. The real ghost of Christmas Future staring down at him in amusement. "Whoops! That wasn't supposed to happen, must've been a malfunction."
"MALFUNCTION?!?" Peter parroted with perplexity, still trying to control his breathing as he regained his strength.
However, the other man just dismissed him nonchalantly, before continuing, "Now do you see why it's so important for you to choose wisely with your decisions? It doesn't just affect you, but everyone else you care about."
"And everyone else? What happens to Liam?" Peter was worried for what the future had in store for the little boy he thought to be his own brother—somewhat son. And he was right to do so after the words that would come out of figment Tony's mouth next. "He..." Christmas Future trailed off, pointing to an image rippling through his mirror once more. It looked to be a gravestone with Liam's full name etched across, and his birthdate. Then underneath it, the following Christmas date was written there.
"Didn't make it."
Peter felt his whole world slow down. He'd lost Liam too. But how? His tear filled eyes directed back to the apparition, questions laid bare on his expression. "He waited for you," Tony explained, "That evening on Christmas, he ran out onto the street without his crutch, looking around for you, but you never showed. And right when he was going to head back, an oncoming car ran into him." Liam suffered the same fate as his parents. That went unsaid, but was very much implied.
Peter was unsure how to feel. All of it was overwhelming. Was this really what his future would be like? A part of his mind didn't doubt that, and the spirit beside him could sense that. "Do you really believe this is what would happen?" Peter fixed his confused gaze towards the transparent glowing figure. "You still don't get it do you," the ghost asked in disbelief, "The other spirits of Christmas were right that you needed to heal from this pain you're going through, Peter. But there's more to the reason, isn't there? More than just needed healing..."
Peter pondered upon his words and surely he was right. There had been more to Tony's death than just Peter's grief over it. When Tony left, he took something else that held value to Peter. This idea of a challenge to prove his worth as a hero. When Peter had just begun his to advance his hero work due to Tony's help, he wasn't sure he was capable of living up to Tony's image of him. However, when all hope seemed lost, he redeemed himself afterwards, and Tony was the cause for it.
If he didn't have his former mentor there to really push him into that path and then guide him later on, Peter was sure he wouldn't have been able to overcome that challenge that all heroes must have to endure. To prove themselves as a worthy hero. Then the acceptance Tony showed him after his act of heroism made Peter feel as though he had some power in his corner. Because someone had really believed in him.
"Whether you accept it or not, you truly have let your faith in yourself dwindle, because you didn't even let it cross your mind that there was a possibility of a better future for yourself than the vision you were shown. You didn't even doubt this potential scenario of your future, and then just set it as the truth."
That had also been true. Peter didn't understand why his mind had accepted his fate so easily. Did he actually want what Christmas Future showed him to happen? But the more he'd gotten deeper into contemplating the question, the clearer his answer was:
No, no he didn't.
And it was as if though something just clicked inside of him. Some sort of trigger pulled or a figurative lightbulb turning on in his brain. But Peter had finally set it aside. His grief and pain and overall self-deprecation. He didn't know if it was the spirits' words, or the vision of his possible future laid out to him that caused it. All he felt was that final stage of grief finally arriving. He'd been told over and over that he needed to accept what's happened and let go, and in that moment, he finally understood what they meant and welcomed that idea of what he had to do.
Because he was tired of it. Tired of the tears and the anger and never feeling as though he was enough. He was sick of that torturous little voice in the back of his mind criticizing everything he did or couldn't do. Peter Parker just wanted to be happy for once. And the opportunity was right in front of him, he just had to reach out and grab it. So that's what he'd do.
He nodded in response to the ghostly figure in front of him, realization written all over his face. The spirit with the face of his former mentor could see that the teen figured it out—accepted his and the other spirits' words. So the ghost of Christmas Future smiled proudly back at him.
"Now do you finally understand what you must do?"
He asked as though it were obvious. Peter nodded again, but more vigorously and with more built up motivation. "I think so," he verbally replied, but it earned him a raised brow of skepticism from the comically sassy spirit. Almost like he was asking if Peter were sure. To which Peter responded again with a more unequivocal answer.
"I know. I know what I need to do."
"Well then, it seems our time is up," he said as he dramatically checked the watch on his wrist—earning him an unimpressed eye roll from the teen. "Remember what we've been trying to tell you, Peter. You have to move on. To keep living your life; not just existing in it. Your parents, and uncle, and Tony would want you to. Need you to. And be happy. You deserve to be."
That's right, Peter's conscience parroted more accepting. He did deserve to be happy. Deserved so much more than what's owed to him after years of pain. No more helplessness nor hopelessness. Not while he still had a chance to change things for a better and happier future. The one that he actually wanted.
"Wait!"
He called out to the ghost one last time before he could enter the portal which he'd just created. And for the first time in the last few hours, this ghost had actually stayed and looked back to Peter.
"What?"
Peter looked fixedly at him, tears still obscuring his eyes. "Can you—can I... can I hug you? I just, I don't know."
The ghost's lips lifted into an understanding smile and he nodded. Peter took that signal and walked over to the apparition of his mentor, soon wrapping his arms around the man the same way he'd done in their final moments together. But this time, it was tighter and kinder and didn't feel so culminating. It wasn't a hug of goodbye, but more so a greeting. An exchange of happiness and solace. And one that implied, "I'll be there for you. Always."
More tears spilt from Peter's eyes during the hug, but now they were out of relief. A part of his grief had been dealt with. He felt he could finally make that step into moving on.
The ghost was kind enough to hug him back just seconds after, and for a moment, they remained that way.
After a while, they would pull apart from each other, Tony's ghost grasping onto his shoulders one final time. "So long, Underoos..." With that final goodbye, the spirit of Christmas future opened another portal with Tony's repulsor, parting from Peter and making his leave.
Once the ghost had disappeared from his sight, he let out a quiet sob that mingled with the humming of the night wind and the winter's tune.