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Misadventures in Paradise ↠ Peter Parker [2]

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𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄 | ❝The world's watching my every move. Might as well give them the performance of a lifetime, right?❞ In which saving the universe was the last thing the Avengers expected to do, but the dust has sett...

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12 | Three Is The Magic Number

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MISADVENTURES IN PARADISE
xii. THREE IS THE MAGIC NUMBER
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                                   MAY PARKER WASN'T A hero like her nephew
                            
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            

                            

                              
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   MAY PARKER WASN'T A hero like her nephew. She didn't have superpowers to give her strength or fancy technology to ease her labors. Most of the time, she had nothing, nothing to give but love. In the end, love cost May her life, and Riley was, again, reminded of Solar's bitter mantra. Death might be an inescapable fate, but love is a silver bullet shot by warm hands.
   Love spares no one. Love is a killer. Love is why we grieve. Love is why life hurts. Love is a drug. Even when we lack it ourselves, we crave it.
   May wasn't supposed to die, not yet. She was supposed to dance into elderhood, smiling through her fine-lined wrinkles and embracing her gray hairs proudly. She was supposed to watch her son grow up and make all the mistakes you're supposed to make when you're young. She was supposed to walk him down the aisle and give him unwarranted advice every time he visited as an adult because, at the end of the day, he would always be her boy.
   How could someone like May, who filled everyone she knew with life, die? May, who devoted her life to helping others? May, whose love made her almost godlike, like sunsets and flowers, reborn again and again? How?
   May Parker wasn't your typical hero, but she died as one that unforgiving November night.
   Riley didn't remember anything that happened next.
   One minute, she was home.
   The news reporter was describing May's corpse. They said even if the paramedics found her a second sooner, she had no chance of surviving. She had endured stab wounds, an explosion that destroyed half the building, and, worst of all, burns on her back that were already eating away at her muscles and tissues. This wasn't just the Goblin. This was Solar, too. They did this.
   The next minute, Riley was flying through the rain in search of Peter.
   Peter. Peter. Peter. Peter. Peter. Peter. She could only think of his name, like a ritual that would bring him to her. Peter. Peter. Peter. Peter. Peter. Peter.
   May was gone. His last piece of family. Just like that. Riley refused to let him believe he was alone now. He might feel like it, but he wasn't. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not as long as he had Riley. She needed to be there for him. She needed to find him.
   But the rain wouldn't stop falling into her eyes.
   No, she couldn't stop crying.
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