Disclaimer: It's not mine. So don't sue me. I'm just borrowing the characters...
One Way StreetAuthor's Notes: Just a short story inspired by a bad experience.
Summary: EU. This is Peter's thoughts after being rejected by Mary-Jane. This is an extension of the middle part in Spider-man 2. Companion piece to 'Responsibility' but can stand-alone. Mainly movieverse.
Note to readers of "Brave Prince" LOTR: It's coming along fine...I'm just doing other stuff while I'm at it :)
Peter's thoughts are in italics...Mary-Jane. The name echoed hollowly in Peter's mind. He felt like he was nothing. Yet his mind desired her all the more. She made him feel important. All I am to MJ is just an empty seat. But she's right, I wasn't there for her and I should have been. But I also have a have a responsibility as Spider-man don't I?
Peter fiddled with his jacket. He had genuinely wanted to make that eight o'clock curtain. It was all just a bad misunderstanding. It wasn't that he didn't want to make it to Mary-Jane's show but he had other, more pressing matters at the time. I had to do my job. It is my curse and my gift. Being Spider-man. Sometimes I wish it wasn't me. That it had been somebody else but that's part of being a hero isn't it? I need to be steady and give up the thing I want most. Even my dreams. That's the problem isn't it? I know that I can have the thing I've always dreamed for in my grasp, if only I would reach out and take it. Peter paced around the small room he called home. His fingers itched to call MJ – to tell her everything. To tell her that he was Spider-man. To tell her that it was this job that kept him from her. To tell her that it would never work out even if they could go out. To tell her that he desperately wanted her.
To tell her that he loved her.
Yes. It's ironic isn't it? I love her so I want to keep her safe. It's this 'love' that keeps us apart. Isn't love meant to bring people together? Peter absently flicked on the TV, he had developed a habit of doing this recently. He would just stare at the tiny screen for hours on end never really paying attention to the show. It wasn't that the TV was all that fascinating but it provided him with a welcome distraction. He really didn't want to focus on his life. My life is a total mess. It was my entire making. But I know that it's for the good of everyone else right? Peter didn't know how long he could continue to play the hero before he was burnt out. My grades are slipping. MJ hates me. Even my powers seem to be failing. I feel like a failure. Why is this happening to me?
Peter didn't want to be a disappointment to anyone. Especially not to Mary-Jane. He knew that he disappointed her tonight. He knew that hurt her deeply. Maybe she'll never forgive me for that. Peter felt as if he were digging himself into a deep chasm of depression. I had to help people. It's only for the good of others that I missed the show. The thought had repeatedly come to his mind. It was his reason why his life was falling apart. Or am I just using it as an excuse? Somehow, it seemed that half his life was missing. Peter didn't feel...whole. He certainly felt that there was a hole in his heart. He missed MJ.
I don't have a choice. I HAVE to help these people, if I don't then no one else will! I NEED to help people, it's my job, my responsibility! The other side of his mind frantically argued. A true hero denies themselves for others. They sacrifice their needs for the good of mankind. Peter felt so torn. It was such a classic struggle, Peter thought, like all the poets in the poetry I've been reading lately. It was always a battle between duty and love like when the soldiers had to go into war. And some of them didn't come back. That's it isn't it? Is this the point of no return? Peter was in the maze of life, a maze with endless possibilities. Then why do I feel like my choice is already made for me? Why do I feel that there is only one way out? Why do I feel like I'm doing all the giving ?Why can't I take something back – for myself?
Suddenly, he was tired of being at home. Peter opened his window and quietly climbed to the roof of the building. It was raining but he didn't care. He was wearing his Spider-man suit anyways. His Spider-man suit was waterproof but it didn't stop Peter from feeling the coldness of the rain. Nor did it keep out the chilly bite of wind. Yes, I am a hero but it doesn't stop me from being human. I still feel. This was one of the reasons Peter was often out at night – rain or shine. He wanted to be out, among people. He liked watching people get on with their lives. Normal people that is. Deep down, he knew that it was his deepest desire – to be just like everyone else. Often he flew around the city and watched MJ but it was always from a distance well away. I always seem to be distant; I am never close to her. Not in the way that I would have want.
He could hear the roaring of the thunder. It was a loud rumbling crack. The bright flashes of lighting illuminated the dark night sky. In each intense flash, Spider-man was silhouetted against the sky. Only Spider-man, not Peter Parker. I live the life of Spider-man now. Peter Parker does not exist. Spider-man has no wants and knows no needs. He exists for the sole purpose of helping others. Peter lay crouched on the roof of a building feeling the rain slide down his back. The neon lights of the city were brighter than ever. The streets were empty at this late time at night. In a few hours, the sun would rise again and it would be another day. I wonder what it would be like to live a day in the life of Peter again. I want to live my own life. But what I want doesn't count...not if I have to be Spider-man.
After an hour of fighting against the bitter cold and fatigue, Peter succumbed and sombrely crawled back into his room. The television was still on. There were no messages on the answering machine. Peter had checked twice, hoping against all odds that MJ would ring him. He ached to hear her clear and almost musical voice. You wish, Peter. Get a grip. The rain continued to drizzle outside. Peter closed the window and watched the raindrops make patterns on the dirty glass, washing it clean. Peter was exhausted. He had stayed up well into the night. It's funny how I have the powers of a hero but I'm still bound by the limits of being human.
He walked into the bathroom. He was going to have a shower to warm up. In the steaming jets of the shower, Peter tried to clear his mind except that all he could think of was one person. The one person, which meant everything to him. Mary-Jane. He thought of her auburn coloured hair. How it had always reminded him of the colour of glorious sunsets. He thought of the intoxicating smell of her floral perfume. Like a fresh bouquet of spring flowers. He thought of the dress she'd worn the last time he saw her. How the smooth coffee coloured material would have felt under his fingers...He thought of her blue eyes. Not like the sky, but like sapphires. Mary-Jane was like no other. He could and would never compare her to anyone else – in Peter's mind she was special and unique. I love her but I will always be Spider-man...
I am Spider-man. It doesn't matter what I want. Peter slammed his fist on the bathroom wall in frustration. The worn tile cracked instantly. Peter could see that the off-white tile had been already fractured before. Peter's hand was bleeding but he could hardly feel the pain. It was infinitesimal compared to the searing pain he was feeling in his heart. Peter exited the bathroom and slammed the door noisily behind him. But if I really loved her, I would let her go. It's for her safety. For her good.
Peter realised something stir in his heart. I don't want to let her go.
The End!
Please Review!