A/N: Here it is. The final chapter. *sniffs* Finishing this fanfiction is like saying goodbye to a friend, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I thank all the readers who left such kind and insightful reviews, and hope that this ending meets your approval. Go ahead, read it, and be on the lookout for another story from me soon, a Spiderman/Batman crossover. Dare I mix Marvel and DC? I'll try. Enjoy the conclusion to this story.
Peter went to the hospital the next morning, after receiving the call that MJ had come out of the coma and had been asking to see him.
When he walked into the room, her bed was raised so that she was in a sitting position. Their eyes locked for a moment, and the joy he felt at seeing the color of her eyes again, the joy at seeing her eyes open brought tears to his own. Her hair was unwashed and messy, her face pale and bruised, and yet she had never looked more beautiful to him. She opened her arms, silently imploring him to hug her. He went to her without words and sat on the edge of the bed, putting his arms around her, feeling her arms around him. A few tears of joy and sorrow slid down his face as they embraced. She rocked him as a single sob shook him, born of the aftermath and irony.
She had survived. Mr. Osborn had not.
She pulled back after a moment. "Peter," she whispered. "I know who you are. And now I know…that all those times I wasn't sure if I loved Spiderman or Peter Parker, it was you. I love you, in both identities…nothing is ever going to change that. Please…tell me if you love me, too…so I can know."
What do you think your love feels for you? A hatred as strong as my own?
Peter gazed at her, eyes saying all she needed to know. "MJ…I've always loved you. I always will. But how can you…how can you love me after what's happened to you because of me?"
"Because nothing changes love, Peter. Please...be with me. Say you'll be with me."
This time, their embrace became a kiss.
A few days later, Peter was standing in the cemetery again. It was dusk once more, but this time, there was no storm. The setting sun painted beautiful colors across the sky.
MJ had been discharged from the hospital. Her bones would heal, her head trauma as well.
The building that had burned to the ground that night was being called "a freak accident from old wiring". Due to the fact that no one had been in Oscorp for a while, there was to be no search for bodies.
Harry also knew his best friend's secret identity. He had told Peter quietly that night on the way home. He had said nothing about his father's first "death", but did not appear angry or hateful toward Peter. Oscorp had been sold. He had been subdued the last few days, but Peter expected that. The lines in Harry's face had deepened. His eyes now carried the pained, tormented darkness, the expression that said he had taken the pain life had dished him out.
He looked like his father.
If Harry ever guessed, or found out the truth about his father, he never said anything. In fact he never mentioned that night, or anything about the Green Goblin ever again.
All was taken care of, so to speak. Peter had gone to the cemetery that night after taking Harry home and filled in the grave, crying silently as he did so, mourning. He did not mourn the Green Goblin. He mourned the wreck of the man who had become the Goblin. Peter had cared for Mr. Osborn without realizing it. He had been another father figure to Peter. Hate twisted within him at the injustice of the world. So many deaths of close people…evil touched so many.
Do not mourn forever. Or hate forever.
He let the hatred flow from him, washed away with pain. Pain would fade. Hate would not. Hate could destroy a man.
He had seen it destroy a man.
Do not mourn forever. Or hate forever.
Peter would carry those words within him for as long as he lived.
He now stood before Norman Osborn's grave again. "MJ's fine…" he said quietly. "She's out of the coma, and came home…" he trailed off before speaking again. "I think Harry knows about…you…" Peter closed his eyes. "He hasn't said anything. I think he forgives you, if there's anything to forgive."
He swallowed hard. "I forgive you, too."
He read the gravestone one more time.
Norman Osborn 1949-2002 Loving father, He will live forever in the hearts of those who knew him.
Peter said a silent prayer that he was finally at eternal rest. And a silent prayer for his soul.
As Peter Parker, the amazing Spiderman, the protector of the city, turned to leave the cemetery and go out into the darkness to perform his nightly deeds, something drew his eyes to the night sky. The next day, he would tell himself he hadn't really seen it, but standing in the cemetery, surrounded by darkness, with the cold wind blowing around him, he was unable to deny it. As he gazed at the brightness of the city from the blackness of the cemetery, he thought he saw the dark shape soaring among the skyscrapers of New York City. He strained his ears, listening carefully.
A chill ran through him a moment later when carried on the cold winter wind came the ghostly echoes of familiar laughter
Finis
Peter went to the hospital the next morning, after receiving the call that MJ had come out of the coma and had been asking to see him.
When he walked into the room, her bed was raised so that she was in a sitting position. Their eyes locked for a moment, and the joy he felt at seeing the color of her eyes again, the joy at seeing her eyes open brought tears to his own. Her hair was unwashed and messy, her face pale and bruised, and yet she had never looked more beautiful to him. She opened her arms, silently imploring him to hug her. He went to her without words and sat on the edge of the bed, putting his arms around her, feeling her arms around him. A few tears of joy and sorrow slid down his face as they embraced. She rocked him as a single sob shook him, born of the aftermath and irony.
She had survived. Mr. Osborn had not.
She pulled back after a moment. "Peter," she whispered. "I know who you are. And now I know…that all those times I wasn't sure if I loved Spiderman or Peter Parker, it was you. I love you, in both identities…nothing is ever going to change that. Please…tell me if you love me, too…so I can know."
What do you think your love feels for you? A hatred as strong as my own?
Peter gazed at her, eyes saying all she needed to know. "MJ…I've always loved you. I always will. But how can you…how can you love me after what's happened to you because of me?"
"Because nothing changes love, Peter. Please...be with me. Say you'll be with me."
This time, their embrace became a kiss.
A few days later, Peter was standing in the cemetery again. It was dusk once more, but this time, there was no storm. The setting sun painted beautiful colors across the sky.
MJ had been discharged from the hospital. Her bones would heal, her head trauma as well.
The building that had burned to the ground that night was being called "a freak accident from old wiring". Due to the fact that no one had been in Oscorp for a while, there was to be no search for bodies.
Harry also knew his best friend's secret identity. He had told Peter quietly that night on the way home. He had said nothing about his father's first "death", but did not appear angry or hateful toward Peter. Oscorp had been sold. He had been subdued the last few days, but Peter expected that. The lines in Harry's face had deepened. His eyes now carried the pained, tormented darkness, the expression that said he had taken the pain life had dished him out.
He looked like his father.
If Harry ever guessed, or found out the truth about his father, he never said anything. In fact he never mentioned that night, or anything about the Green Goblin ever again.
All was taken care of, so to speak. Peter had gone to the cemetery that night after taking Harry home and filled in the grave, crying silently as he did so, mourning. He did not mourn the Green Goblin. He mourned the wreck of the man who had become the Goblin. Peter had cared for Mr. Osborn without realizing it. He had been another father figure to Peter. Hate twisted within him at the injustice of the world. So many deaths of close people…evil touched so many.
Do not mourn forever. Or hate forever.
He let the hatred flow from him, washed away with pain. Pain would fade. Hate would not. Hate could destroy a man.
He had seen it destroy a man.
Do not mourn forever. Or hate forever.
Peter would carry those words within him for as long as he lived.
He now stood before Norman Osborn's grave again. "MJ's fine…" he said quietly. "She's out of the coma, and came home…" he trailed off before speaking again. "I think Harry knows about…you…" Peter closed his eyes. "He hasn't said anything. I think he forgives you, if there's anything to forgive."
He swallowed hard. "I forgive you, too."
He read the gravestone one more time.
Norman Osborn 1949-2002 Loving father, He will live forever in the hearts of those who knew him.
Peter said a silent prayer that he was finally at eternal rest. And a silent prayer for his soul.
As Peter Parker, the amazing Spiderman, the protector of the city, turned to leave the cemetery and go out into the darkness to perform his nightly deeds, something drew his eyes to the night sky. The next day, he would tell himself he hadn't really seen it, but standing in the cemetery, surrounded by darkness, with the cold wind blowing around him, he was unable to deny it. As he gazed at the brightness of the city from the blackness of the cemetery, he thought he saw the dark shape soaring among the skyscrapers of New York City. He strained his ears, listening carefully.
A chill ran through him a moment later when carried on the cold winter wind came the ghostly echoes of familiar laughter
Finis