Updated and edited: 12/02/14

Internal Struggle

Chapter 1: A Marvelous Perspective

Most people think they know Carol Danvers. Humph…they're wrong.

What they see is a well built and tended to façade.

I used to be in the Air Force. I did it to get my dad to notice that I existed. Hell any good that did. He wasn't exactly happy with a daughter, and basically ignored me. I guess that's where my attitude towards men comes from-I didn't really have a role model on how men should really be like.

An encounter with the Kree then changed my life, giving me awesome powers, and a whole new perspective of life. I've been Ms. Marvel ever since, for years now; a hero and an Avenger. I've stood side by side with the greatest men and women I have ever known. I've faced monsters, gods, aliens and demons and live to speak of them.

Recently, I've been thinking about taking up the mantle of Captain Marvel, my predecessor and mentor. My inspiration. One of few men that I hold respect for. One of fewer men that have been there for me and meant so much to me.

…

*chuckle*

Seems I always come back to that. The men of my life.

Though I guess that I have to admit that's only half of it.

My life as Ms. Marvel has…plagued, for lack of a better term, with a lot of pain, suffering and loss. More than most heroes, I think sometimes. I've been hunted, tortured, wiped of memories, manipulated…raped… and lost loved ones. Hell, I even died once.

Mystique has been a cause of much of my pain. She killed the first man I really loved, sent Rogue after me and had her steal my powers and memories. It was also around this time that a being from Limbo named Marcus came and manipulated me into "loving" him, kidnapped me and raped me.

That was a blow to my pride and independence. That hit me like a ton of bricks. It hurt, that I had fallen and broken so easily. But what hurt me even more, probably what hurt me most was that the Avengers, my teammates, they…abandoned me, right when I needed them the most. I was at my most vulnerable, and they did nothing; they just stood by and let it happen, not bothering to question the ordeal that was before them.

By this time, with the help of Charles Xavier, my memories had returned to me. Well…most of them. There are bits I didn't get back, bits I know that I may never get back. To this day, I don't even remember what my first love's name was. I think it was Mike.

My self-confidence and pride were crushed. Because the Avengers failed me when I needed them, I no longer sought to put trust in this so-called team of mine, or many of my former friends and allies, with the exception of Jessica Drew. And my attitude to men, already fragile because of my estranged relationship with my father, grew worse because of the death of Mike (?) and because of Marcus. I allowed my military attitude to resurface and take over once more, to shield me from any harm that others could inflict upon my already scarred heart, from any pain the world could throw my way.

Jessica, my best friend, she never left my side. She was my support and foundation. I can honestly say that she has been essential to getting me to a lot of points of my life. The X-Men gave me sanctuary while I started a journey of self-discovery to find out what my new purpose was. It was around this time I obtained a…godhood, of sorts, as Binary. Cosmic energy power granted by a white hole. It was intoxicating, the taste of superpowers like no other, the feeling of importance I got when I used this new power as a superhero. But it didn't last; I lost the connection during Galactic Storm, gaining back my original powers. And my confidence once more crashed-I had become addicted on that scale of power, and I could not bear to be without it. I became a depressed alcoholic, and I disgraced myself in front of my teammates and friends.

Now that I look back at this, I am disgusted by what I did then, but I understand it. I needed a crutch and alcohol was the easy way out. With Stark's help, I quit drinking. I got my life straightened out again, wrote and published a book, restarted in heroics again, and was an on-off Avenger up to when Scarlet Witch broke down.

Through everything that has happened since then up until now-the Civil War, the Skrull Invasion, Osborn's rise to power, the Siege, the reformation of the Avengers, the Serpent's attack-there were always times when I thought things were finally looking up, only for my hopes to come crashing down once more. The New Avengers formed; a few months later the Civil War, and Captain America is assassinated. Wonder Man and I get together and I become the leader of the Mighty Avengers, and the Skrulls decide to invade. We win and save the world, and Osborn is suddenly the new Nick Fur, Simon leaves me and I'm forced underground for refusing to work for Osborn, and end up finding sanctuary with Luke Cage's New Avengers resistance. The same resistance I had been hunting down just months before. Ironic.

That's too many failures in my eyes. I was already dealing with the problems I had from my early days-the loss, pain, betrayal. And in less than a year, everything goes to hell and I have new problems to deal with, along with the return of old ones. I failed an idol, someone I held in high reverence, and he was assassinated. I failed another relationship, losing one of the people closest to me. Simon Williams was the first real relationship I had since getting my life back together, and I thought we had something special. But when Osborn's Dark Avengers revealed their own Ms. Marvel, he believed it was me, and that I had betrayed everything the Avengers stood for. In a way, he was right. I betrayed my friends. Guess being on the opposite side of the law makes you see things differently.

That guilt was nothing compared to the guilt that hit me when I faced my old friends turned enemies when I asked for sanctuary. The looks of suspicion, hostility and hurt told me they had not forgiven me, had not forgotten the hell I helped make their lives. They had every right to feel this way. I betrayed their friendship, their trust. Yeah, they eventually welcomed be back with open arms, but that first time was seared into my brain-their body language and faces. My guilt for hurting them remains in me until this day, and it's why I'm so afraid of losing their friendship, and why every day I strive to make it up to them a bit more, to prove that I deserve their friendship. I wish to God that I could fix my mistakes.

You know it was around this time that Mystique came back and tried to destroy me with a Captain Marvel clone? That hit too close to home. She had tainted his legacy. But it got me thinking: was I tainting his legacy too? Would Captain Marvel have willingly complied to hunt down friends and allies, other heroes, to obey a law that no longer made sense?

All this guilt, my insecurity. In looking back, I guess I have to admit that it all stems back to me and my dad. I felt like I was never a good enough daughter. I felt I was guilty of failing his expectations. The first of a long list of this I feel guilty for, and the ones close to me that I fail.

This is my internal struggle, what I deal with each and every day from morning until night. My punishment, my burden. It sometimes feels like I'm going to break down, and there have been times when I almost have, and times I did. But I never let anyone see, because I refuse to let anyone see me as weak. That is why I have this mask, my Air Force upbringing. A mask of strength and confidence that I keep on at all times.

But I know I'm just lying to myself.

Despite how strong I make myself look, how independent I seem, I know that deep down inside, I'm just a girl screaming and crying for her daddy to love her and be proud of her, a girl holding in everything, trying to hold back the tears every night, hiding behind a façade. Every day, I have to deal with this burden of guilt and this insecurity of low worth…the pain and loss in my heart. Everything that I've buried over the years. Jess, my best friend, understands what I deal with, probably because she has her own issues as well. But at least she's upfront about it. I can't bear to let people see the real me. I'm afraid that they'll see me as weak, hurt me more, and take advantage of me. Even though they have proven time and again that they wouldn't. Probably just my insecurity of self-worth.

So I've kept up the mask, never taking it off. And everyone has bought it. My Mighty Avengers, my enemies, my teammates in the New Avengers, my closest friends. Even Jessica is occasionally fooled. Everyone.

Well…almost.

Everyone except him. He saw right through the mask, and right into me, the real me. He saw exactly who I was and what I was feeling.

And to my shock, he didn't care.

Sure he was wary at first, they all were. But then, he was the first one to welcome me to their resistance against Osborn with open arms. I was so confused.

He never judged me or my actions. He never poked fun at my issues, never tried to provoke my guilt or blame me continuously for their situation. And I never understood why. At least not until I really got to know who Peter Parker really was.

He, too, is a man ridden with guilt and issues of his own. He knew it was his fault that his Uncle Ben had been murdered, and he's had to live with that burden of guilt, of failing the man who raised him, since he was a kid. He lives with the guilt of the death of his first real love, Gwen Stacy, and her father, Captain Stacy. He couldn't save them in time. In trying to save her, Peter had accidentally killed her. It still brings tears to his eyes. He has had to everyday deal with the fact that he brought a monster to Earth in the form of the Symbiote, every time he sees the carnage left in the wake of Venom. The people he cares about have always had to be held at arm's length to keep them safe, explaining why he has a long list of exes that "he repeats to himself every night as he cries himself to sleep."

*chuckle*

Peter carries all this guilt with him; he is hated by a bunch of people who still think him a menace, and has his own insecurities of failing others. And yet, he doesn't fall down, doesn't collapse under the pressure. He stands tall and strong, refusing to surrender, no matter how high the odds are stacked against him. He will do whatever it takes to help the common man, those who can't defend themselves; friend and foe alike, and I can't help but admire him for that.

He has understood me in a way I never expected him to. He understands what I've been through. And many times, more than I can count, Peter has been a shoulder to cry on when I just can't hold it in any longer; he has been a friend to embrace when I just needed someone there; he has been my support system, letting me know it'd all be ok. He has always been there for me, never judging me. Ever. He opened his arms to me, always made time for me. He was there for me, whether I deserved it or not. In Peter's eyes, I had earned his friendship, deserved his friendship and already held it.

When we first met, he pissed the CRAP out of me with his joking and constant talking and him never seeming to take anything seriously, AT ALL. I wondered exactly what Captain America saw in him that had gotten him chosen as an Avenger. Now I see him as a true hero, and a true friend.

Maybe even more…

I once asked him why he remains so optimistic all the time when it looks so bleak…why he can laugh in the face of evil…why he never backed down from a fight. His answer astonished me.

He told me it was all just a mask for all the guilt and pain he carries-for failing his Uncle Ben, Gwen, Ben Reily, and so many others. Peter used humor to mask his pain and insecurities. And instead of dwelling on them, he uses them to give him strength and courage to do what's right, from facing the average mugger to tackling the Sinister Six. It is his burden, to defend New York in the names of those he has lost and failed. He would do good, turning his internal struggles into his strength. To live by the words of his uncle, whose meaning he had to learn the hard way.

With great power must come great responsibility.

That day, my respect and admiration for Peter increased tenfold.

Nowadays, we both are Avengers. I began to develop feelings for Peter, ever since Osborn's Reign. He makes me feel wanted, cared for, at peace. I never knew if he held similar feelings…until one night he just kissed me. Out of the blue, a routine mission, we were saying goodnight, and he then just grabbed me and kissed me. Of course, being Peter, he immediately started to apologize, but I never let him finish as I hungrily brought his lips back to mine. One thing led to another, and two hours later we're in my bed naked. Given our track history with relationships, it was kind of obvious we were hesitant to see where we would go from there. But then he told me he had the same feelings for me, and wanted to make it work. That was when I knew this time it'd be different, that it would all be worth it.

Peter continues to be my beacon of hope in dealing with my guilt and insecurities. He is still my support, that one who'll hug me tight when I just need someone, who'll be that shoulder I need when the tears come out. And just the same, I help him out too, in dealing with his own guilt and pain, being his shoulder and his support system.

No other man has treated me like Peter has, made me feel like this like he has. It's because of him that I now know to not dwell in the past but to focus on the now and tomorrow. He makes me feel loved and wanted. I can honestly say…that I have never happier than I am now. With Peter Parker, my light, my shoulder, my friend, my lover.

My Amazing Spider-Man.