Miguel O'Hara x Oc
Every superhero has a mantal to uphold, including a Spider. However no one ever tells the pain that follows and lerks in the shadows, and Liza Pierce aka Fire Wing is no exception. She excepts her role and upholds her mantal and d...
The life of being a spider is one of great power, however it follows with great sorrow. It's our responsibility to uphold the peace and protect those who can't. It's the greatest honor any superhero can have. Yet, no one ever tells you the hardships you have to face. The most painful hardship is death. The death of civilians that you slaved to protect, the death of dear ones caught in the crossfire because they loved you, and the finish line for yourself.
Does it always end with the death?
Short answer: Yes. At least for a spider.
However no one wants to see that on a tombstone. Any normal person wouldn't even understand what that kind of honor means or feel the weight on their shoulders. And who stops to read someone's tombstone when they never knew what the lost soul's face looks like. I might be the weird one that does. That person's loved one spend time to morn them and memorialize their life in only so many words, it only takes a few minutes out of my day to mourn the lost as I walk to my friends.
Peter Parker and Ben Reilly lay to rest next to Ben Parker and Peter's parents. I kneel down to rub my fingers along the engraved words on both Peter and Reilly grave.
With great power comes great responsibility.
The same words were craved in Ben's tombstone; the same words he spoke to Peter before he died. I look up at the sky as if they were looking down at me.
"Peter, don't forget to thank your uncle for the tattoo idea." I say to the sky as I trace the inked words on my chest.
"Our team is doing good. Nova is no longer giving us the silent treatment anymore. I think us calling him bucket head is still a little too soon." I sigh. "You kinda reserved the nickname now... You already know how our spider team is doing. It's still just me and MJ, however she's taking a step back to focus more on her reporter career. She's looking at a promotion. Jameson is finally seeing her potential."
I giggle to myself as I think of all the spats Spiderman and J Jonah Jameson, or in Peter's words: J Jonah Jerk Face, had. As annoying it was to hear Jameson's complaints about Spiderman, it was weird to not hear him grumble about the web crawler as I swung through the city.
"Oh Cho is doing good in college; it's not surprising the smart fucking graduated early. He's also an intern under Tony." I remember the day Cho turned in his Iron Spider suit to Peter. He said he realized being the Iron Spider wasn't his dream anymore. So now he's working alongside Tony to advance Superhero's tech.
"Flash is training the new recruits at the Academy. After your death I don't think he'll ever come out of retirement." He took Peter's death really hard, maybe even harder than the rest of us. He retired as a field agent after Spider-man's public funeral.
The next few hours go like that, me talking to the tombstones giving them current updates. It sounds sad but I like to think of this as my debrief from life. To give my old team leader an update on our team members lives. Even though I'm not around them as much as I used to. The later it gets the more I grow quite. Until a lightning bug lands on my firefly tattoo on my hand making my eyes shoot up to Reilly's grave as if it's his way of asking how I am.
"It's been forever since I seen a firefly," I say out loud. "Maybe I should tell you guys about how I'm doing." I rub the back of my head, not really wanting to talk about myself. "I'm not really doing much of anything to be honest. If I'm not out in the field I'm just at home or training the new recruits. Now saying that out loud I realize how sad that sounds. I swear I'm doing good though. I-I, I'm actually content right now-" I pause as I realize what I'm doing. I'm rambling to no one. How pathetic.
I get up and gather my stuff as I realize how late it is. As I turn to walk away I pause to look back at the tombstones. I sigh out a 'see ya later' and a kiss to my hand and linger my fingertips on Reilly's grave. With a little more effort than I like, I pull myself away to make the walk home to my apartment. On days like these I like to walk the busy streets of New York. It gives me the chance to pretend I'm just a normal civilian walking to an unknown destination like everyone else. It also gives me a chance to see the faces of the people I work hard to protect. It reminds me and gives me the strength to fight for these people so that they never know the pain of something stronger than them. In a weird way it gives me peace of mind.
The later it gets the more civilians get sparce on the sidewalks and the cars on the streets. New York is still as live as ever even long after the sun lays to rest until the morning. Even my drunk party neighbors are awake at the late night hours. They couple tumble down the steps of our building to my direction.
"Hey Liza! Where did *hic* ya come from? *Hic*" Erika asks me as she clings to her boyfriend who is also having hard time standing straight.
"Oh I was just walking around to clear my head." I say as I sidestep the couples staggering steps.
"Oh well have fun, Erika and I are heading to another party!" John says with more clear speech, but his cherry red cheeks stand out on his dark complexion. As they continue down the street he turns around and says, "There was this weird commotion from your apartment, I didn't know you got a pet." Then he turns around again to head to whatever party they were heading to.
Interesting. I don't have any pets. As I reach my apartment door after taking the steps to the 4th floor, I check the lock. Untouched and locked. As I unlock my door I form my dagger to my hand, letting the light form the cool, yet warm, metal in my hand.
"I suggest you leave out the way you came," I call out in the dark when I notice my window was open.
A few silent moments go by. The only sound heard was the clock on the wall and the busy streets of New York, yet I knew someone was still hear.
Five. I count in my head as I close the door.
Four. I put my bag down on the floor in front of the door.
Three. With careful quiet steps I walk to the corner of the kitchen to get the layout of my apartment in my sights.
Two. I slow my breathing to center myself.
One.
"It took you long enough to come home."
Authors Note:
I didn't realize how much I miss writing and how rusty I am. Writers block and definitely kicking me in the ass. I don't have a schedule but I'll try to post on Saturday or Sunday. Also if you see any grammer mistakes KINDLY point them out in the comments please. Until next time.
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