Summary:For most of his life Spider-Man, New York had rejected Spider-Man, but how does a city react when he dies.(comic verse)
Warning: character death obviously
Timeline: After the Other, but before Civil War
It was a day that started like any other. Mary Jane could still feel Peter’s kiss on her lips right before he went out the window, out to save the day. Looking back, she wished she’d kept him around for a while longer, but instead she’d let him go, telling him she’d see him later. May had asked her for the laundry and she’d carelessly taken the dirty costume that Peter had dropped on the floor the night before and put it in the basket.
She’d called her sister, said a few words, listened to a cute story about Kevin and headed for work. The atmosphere during practice had been electric, static between them building up as every word seemed to slip out perfectly, with just the right cadence behind him and every note filled with emotion.
She’d gotten caught in the silence when she stepped out of the theatre. People were standing outside stunned and she wondered what was up with them. She looked up at the view screen as she passed Times Square and her heart stopped. Peter.
Words were being said, but they didn’t matter, Peter….
She grabbed her phone, why hadn’t anyone told her? It was only then that she noticed her phone had been down, there were five messages waiting for her.
His face on the big screen, hundreds of people looking up at his bloodied image, mask half destroyed, camera on him as if he were looking straight at it.
“Mary Jane, May, I love you.” And then the screen went white.
Doctor Octopus she heard, Octavius had built a nuclear reactor in the middle of the city. He was planning to let it explode and destroy the entire city and millions of lives with it. Spider-Man had stopped him. Spider-Man had sacrificed himself so that all other New Yorkers might live.
Mary Jane wanted to fight her tears. She couldn’t let people know, couldn’t betray him. But then she saw a woman start crying right next to her, then a man behind them, a woman on their left. And silence, tears and silence and MJ could no longer hold in.
“No. No! Not him.” She whispered, she wanted to scream, but she couldn’t.
She grabbed her phone, checking who the messages were from, Steve, Tony, May…. Peter.
“This is Mary Jane. I’m not here right now, but please leave a message after the beep. Beep.”
Her voicemail answered before moving on.
“MJ, I… I don’t know how much longer I’ve got.”
She barely even noticed that onscreen the words were being repeated she was now hearing on her phone. She listened to his voice, repeating, repeating, it was all she had left of him.
It wasn’t enough.
Mary Jane stumbled further, people stared at her for a second, but seemed caught up in a daze of disbelief.
She hadn’t even gotten away for more than a few feet, still at the plaza when Iron Man came landing down towards her. She fell in his arms.
“I’m sorry Mary Jane, the doctors they…”She couldn’t answer. “I’ll take you to him.”
Time was a flash after that, arriving in the hospital, the doctor’s recognized her from the last time she’d been here. But what hope was there for yet another miracle?
Jonah sat alone behind his desk. Staring out through the window, he wasn’t sure what he was waiting for.
“Today is a day of mourning, yet at the same time, it is a moment of rejoicing.”
Shouldn’t it be? Jonah was too stunned to be sure. The remote felt harsher than ever. He’d told Glory not to allow anyone into his office. Not even Robbie.
“Through the sacrifice of a hero, millions of New Yorkers were saved. It was Spider-Man’s selfless sacrifice that the supervillain known as Doctor Octopus failed to destroy the entire city and possibly the entire state.
It isn’t quite clear yet what the former atomic physicist was trying to accomplish, all we know is that it lead to a nuclear reactor about to have a meltdown in the middle of New York. Uprooting the reactor and sending it in space was considered, but it seems the reactor was too unstable to even attempt it.
Spider-Man, now identified as part time high school science teacher Peter Parker, managed to stabilize the reactor, but soon fell prey to the heavy dose of radiation he was subjected to while doing this. The Avengers have yet to release a full statement to the press.
Peter parker, more commonly known as Spider-Man died approximately one hour ago at Beth Israel Hospital. He was 32 years old and leaves behind a wife and child.”
“The bastard, that rotten, good for nothing wallcrawling menace, that…”Jonah spat out the words, almost like in a habit, but there was no force in them, no rage and he sat there, not quite believing. Watching the news, Parker’s face, only halfway hidden by the cursed mask as he sat there, crumbling after he’d done it, after he’d saved them all. The image was frozen on that moment, on the man, the hero as he clutched onto the phone in his hand, before coughing blood. Before the other Avengers finally managed to make their way to the sealed off room. Careful not to let out the radiation. It had taken a while before they could even try to get him out safely without endangering everyone around him. Parker had sealed the locks behind him just to make sure that the others would be safe. It was that last bit that sealed Jonah’s coffin once and for all. Parker had known, he’d known he would die and he’d done everything to make sure no one else would share his fate.
How could the undeserving gloryseeking little shit have done this to him.
His worst enemy was dead.
Peter was dead.
Peter had been Spider-Man, and he was dead, and he’d managed to disprove every single thing he’d ever written about the man in the past seventeen years.
This was too much, this last defeat.
Jonah went to his desk and took out a disc, something he’d started out on paper, and updated whenever he felt guilty or ashamed, no not ashamed, just unduly charitable…
He opened the file on it on the computer and read the first line: “For years I called Spider-Man a menace, a threat to us all. I was wrong.”
He barely found the strength not to delete the entire file and sent it through to Robbie for his last editorial. This was it, he was done. He’d never write for the Bugle again.
It killed him to see the screen fade out, he turned down the light and closed the door behind him.