DEAR PETER | ❝ dear peter, play good music at my
funeral. ❞
In which Peter's long time crush dies and she leaves him a series of video messages with what she wants him to do specifically for her funeral.
[PETER PARKER AU]
[COPYRIGHT TO ASH 2018]
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THE VIDEO MARKED WITH TWO SEEMED TO STARE THE SPIDERLING DOWN. He squirmed, he should space them out, right?
But he needed that, he needed to see her, he wanted to see her. Her cubby pink cheeks and her long wavy brown hair. He missed her so much, too much to be feeling anything but the pain of her not being there.
He didn't want to accept that she wasn't going to be there next to him at graduation, she wasn't going to be the person walking up the isle to say 'I Do.'
With a sigh, he grabbed the case the CD resided in. His hands trembled around it, his eyes only trained on the yellow '2' that stood on the front of the case. Fumbling, the boy grabbed the disc and placed it gently into his computer. That's the last thing he has of her, videos that she made before she died.
Videos she made when she used to be alive.
"You made it to video two," her face popped up onto the screen with a smile, "welcome."
"What a warm welcome," Peter scoffeded, how could an almost dead person be so, peppy.
"You're probably grumbling under your breath about how this isn't warm, this is death. And before you say some sarcastic comment about it, just know that I know because I used to be your best friend."
There were three words he hated. Used and best friend. He didn't want to accept she was gone, he didn't want to accept that she was only his best friend. That between the two neither of them got to say what they wanted to say, what should have been said.
Peter fought himself about that, he should have told her that he loved her. He should have told her that he felt that for her. It hurt his heart knowing that he wouldn't ever be able to say that. Knowing that his love would forever go unrequited, or at least from what he would think.
"But I wanted you to remember something of the good times, you know?"
"No I don't," Peter grumbled under his breath.
"Okay so remember when we were like 12 and I told you that we were going to the dance together?"
Peter did, he remembered how much he hated that. May took the boy to a shop where he was poked and prodded to get a suit.
"You vowed to me that you would never talk to me again," the girl let out the laugh that could always make his heart go whack, "but I bribed you into talking to me with a brownie on the fifth day."
He remembered that, the girls brownies were to die for. She would sit down with her mom and they would grab out the ingredients and make them. One time, Peter recalled, he was able to help make the brownies. He remembered the fact that the girl ended up throwing flour on his head and not getting in trouble, but when he retaliated and did it back he got an earful.
Now, that was a memory that made him smile, it made him remember the times when life seemed simple and he didn't have to just grieve over her.
That's what Mirabelle did everything about this for, to cause him to figure out how to grieve.
