Almost. It's a simple word, very little meaning. For most people, that is. It's a word used to describe something that was close but wasn't achieved or didn't happen. The Blackhawks almost won the Stanley Cup. The concert was almost canceled due to rain. Wendy, Michael, and John almost stayed in Neverland. Almost is an adverb. Nothing special. But, to Peter, it was. Almost was no longer a simple adverb he used when describing how close something was. Instead, he used it in the form of a noun.

You were his almost.

His friends asked about you. You were their friend, too but when people go their separate ways, sometimes it's easier to avoid certain for awhile. You were never together in the first place. So, when asked, he always responds with almost.

"I thought you were together?"

"Almost."

"Weren't you two together awhile?"

"Almost."

It was blatantly obvious to them and to Peter's aunt and everyone, that you two should have been together but you weren't. You never asked and Peter never got the chance. Because when people disappear for three months without a trace, it's hard to be with them. It's hard to forgive them. It is so fucking hard to pretend that they didn't abandon you when you needed them and Peter asked that of you. He asked that of you without even an explanation. A simple:

"Please, I can't tell you."

And

"I promise, it's okay. Yo-you just have to trust me."

Which was only followed by

"I'm so sorry. I-I am. I just, I'm sorry."

You were not together. Feelings were there, strong enough feelings to make the world stop, but Peter feared labels and labels didn't matter. And when he wanted to make it official, he was taken too soon and it left you alone. So, you were almost together. Almost a couple. Almost lovers. But you weren't.

People don't disappear for months for nothing. But he wouldn't tell you and you couldn't handle that and he knows that. He knew it then and he knows it now. He knows it now as he watches you dance with your new boyfriend at a mutual friend's wedding, one of the only mutual friends the two of you maintained. You're laughing and smiling, looking happy and bubbly. Not an ounce of sadness seems to be flowing through you as your spun around gracefully.

"Staring isn't healthy, dude." Ned says as he approaches Peter and takes a seat beside him.

"Yeah." Peter nods, taking a drink of the water at his table.

"She looks happy." Ned's voice is soft, almost pleading for Peter to move on.

"I know." Peter mumbles but doesn't move his stare from you.

Everything in him wished he could take back the day he didn't come home. The day everything changed. The day you thought he'd simply stood you up which turned into the day you thought he died. It was the day he made you think he died and he wanted to take it back but he can't change the past so he's left sitting alone at a table watching you dance with someone new. Wishing it were him, wishing he had the strength to come home. To tell you anything to keep you from walking away. But he didn't.

"I'm heading out." Peter mumbles to Ned as he reaches for his jacket from the back of his chair.

"Already?" Ned's brows furrow in partial disappointment.

"Yeah." Peter nods, taking one last glance at you but this time, you see him and your eyes lock for the first time in well over a year.

His mouth dried as he froze, standing there with sad and regretful eyes. You swore everyone around you could have heard your heartbreak if there wasn't music. Peter was always so full of life and happy. Peter Parker is someone who lit up everything around him even on his darkest days but this was different. He seemed to have a grey cloud hovering over him and it was about to start striking lightning at any time. The literal definition of physical sorrow.

But, he breaks eye contact with you first and rips the black jacket from the back of the chair and leaves, not a single word to Ned or you or anyone. Your eyes land on Ned who gives you a sorry smile before you look back to your date.

"Peter?" He asks, his hand holding one of yours while his other is rested on your hip.

"Peter." You confirm. You bite the inside of your cheek as your eyes lock with his and you know what you're about to say is fucking unfair but no one ever said life was fair. "I-I gotta-"

"Go? Follow him?" He asks, almost expecting those words to have been said at one point or another that night.

"I'm so sorry. I promise I didn't mean this. I just, this is just, this is something I have to do." You found yourself saying and almost wanting to roll your eyes at the words. The familiar words you'd swore you'd never tell anyone because they mean nothing but maybe you were wrong all along. Maybe those words hold some form of meaning you didn't realize until this exact second. Until you're the one that has to them to someone.

"It's fine. Go one." He jerks his head towards the door and you waste no more time in exiting the venue hall.

Your heels hit pavement as you walked as fast as you could. You knew Peter would be ahead of you, far ahead of you. Unless, of course, he stopped to let out a few huffs and control his anger and hurt. Which, that's exactly what he did. You reached the parking lot and spotted him staring at the sky, his hands dug deep into his dress lacks and his curls loose as if he'd ran his hand through his hair a hundred times since exiting the building.

"Peter." You say, just loud enough for him to hear.

His head comes down and his shiny black shoes slide against the asphalt to turn himself and face you. His face is pale while the tip of his nose is rosy pink and his eyes are a tint of salmon.

"Y/n." His voice is broken with your name and he can't believe you're standing in front of him. He said your name for the first time in so long it should have been foreign but it wasn't. It was like the subtle scent of home.

"Are you okay?" You hesitate, standing a solid three yards away from him. He is heartbreakingly breathtaking with his jacket loose and his dress shirt untucked and city lights cascading through his features.

"Yeah, just have to head out." He avoids your eyes, afraid of what will come from his mouth if he sees them shine again.

You hang your head wanting to say so much but not being able to even think of where to start. How do you talk to someone you were never anything with after a year? You never got there and now you're just standing in an open parking lot at ten at night questioning everything that's happened.

"Uh," Peter gestures out with one hand as he swallows hard. "You should get back, with, with your boyfriend."

"Not my boyfriend." You say softly.

Peter quirks a brow but his expression doesn't change. "Your date." He corrects himself.

"You know, he's great." You take a deep breath as you clench your jaw.

"Good." Peter says and his voice is drenched with sincerity but leaks disdain.

"Like, really fucking great, you know? He's nice and he respects me and he's there when I need him." You start rambling, feeling your blood start to boil and your body warm despite the chilled air. "He doesn't lie to me. He tells me what I need to know when I need to know it. No secrets, nothing. And we're not even dating. He's really fucking great and I'm out here with you."

"So, go back in there." Peter says, his voice defeated.

"Do you want me to?" You ask.

Peter looks to the right and closes his eyes. Of course he doesn't. He wants you. He's wanted you since the day he saw you. But, he knows what he did to you was not fair and you did not deserve it. He wants to be so fucking selfish and cup your face and feel home just one more time, savor the taste of it, the feeling. But you do not deserve it. You deserve someone who is not selfish.

"Don't lie to me." You sigh, gaining his attention.

"Go." Peter says.

"You don't want me to." You counter.

"What's it matter?" Peter asks.

You scoff and suck your teeth. "Did it hurt?" You nearly yell and Peter looks at you with questioning eyes. "Did it hurt when you left? Did it fucking hurt you when you left me? For months without a fucking word? Because it fucking killed me. I thought you were dead." Tears burn the back of your eyes with your words.

Peter releases a harsh chuckle before taking a step forward, his face contorted with all sorts of pain and anger, but not at you. "Of course it fucking hurt, y/n!" Peter looks away from you and takes a deep breath, calming himself. "It almost killed me, too."

"Then why'd you do it?"

"If your date is so great, why don't go back inside?" Peter changes subject, something he got quite good at whenever you'd fight about something that was about him, something he didn't want to tell you.

"You know what, he is everything you're not." You yell, tossing your hands out. "He is everything I could fucking ask for." Peter heart snapped with your words but he gritted his teeth and swallowed the hard lump, ignoring the barbed wire lacing around his heart. "But, that's the problem. He is everything you are not including you. He is not you. So, I'm standing out in the damn cold without a damn coat on because I fucking miss you and I want answers because I deserve closure at the very least."

"We weren't together." Peter's voice cracks and you can see his breath in the front of him almost as clearly as you can see the heartbreak in the wrinkles of his face.

"But we almost were." It's such a broken statement and you feel it and Peter does, too.

"I'm sorry." Peter says.

"You said that already."

"I know." Peter nods shamefully. "B-but I am. I'm sorry for hurting you and leaving but I had to do it."

Silence falls within the two and a half yard between you. It's the same thing. He said the same words a year ago as did you. It's the exact same thing. Somehow, nothing and everything has changed. The distance between you has grown but the feelings and lies are still there. Maybe the worst part of it all is that two and a half yards. Those two and a half yards that might as well be miles. If you'd close the distance, maybe, just maybe, it would change. You'd feel Peter against you and suddenly the weight from your chest would be lifted. Peter's heart would relax and he'd feel safe again. But, neither of you move. You stand and stare.

Peter's first to break the silence with a sigh. "O-okay." Peter swallows the harsh word and blinks away the burning sensation behind his eyes. "I-I have to go." Peter licks his lips.

"Of course you do. You always have to go. Some things never change, huh?"

Peer's brows furrow as he stares you with disbelief. He knows he deserves whatever you're gonna throw at him but he couldn't believe you were actually laying out on him. You were never mean or rude or anything but simply worried. Now, now you're pissed and hurt and broken and it is his fault and you are going to take it all out on him. But, he doesn't want that. He doesn't want you ruined and bitter over what he did because that is so fucking unfair to you. He is your almost and you are his but he should not be the one that fucks you up. The one that you compare everyone else to in hopes that they are different so they do not break your heart. He can not be the person that makes you fear relationships. But, he is. He is right now and he knows it. So, he has to fix it.

"Fine," Peter says with a tight jaw. "You wanna know?" You nod, not able to say a word as you've never seen Peter with such mixed emotions. "Meet me at Corona Park."

"Park's closed." You say quietly.

"Meet me in the back by the lake. Twenty minutes."

"You're gonna be there?" You question, not really believing him but hoping with everything in you that he's telling the truth.

"Yeah." He nods. "I-I, uh, can't promise that I'll be able to explain everything but, uh, I can some at least but before you go, you can't tell anyone."

"W-why not?"

"Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"Promise..."

"Twenty minutes." Peter mumbles, turning on his heels and heading out of the parking lot, leaving you alone yet again.

You shake your head and go back inside to gather your things. You say your goodbyes to the bride and groom before you head out to your car. You'd have just enough time to get your apartment, change, and make it the park. It was patrolled regularly but no ever bothered to check by the lake.

It was a rather strange request to meet at a park. You never met at a park, ever. But, you needed some type of closure. It was very unhealthy to still be hung up on someone like Peter. You had to keep reminding yourself that he left you. He left you first. Your fingers would hover over his contact and you'd want to call him but that voice in the back of your head convince you otherwise. He deserted you. Peter Parker did not deserve a phone call from you.

The twenty minutes and came went and you're heading to the back of the park that's mostly shielded by trees. Your hands are dug deep into the pockets of your jacket, trying to stay warm as you get closer to the lake. You can see someone leaning against a tree, looking at the city's reflection. You know it's Peter but he has a blue hoodie on and its hood is covering his head. If you were being honest, he looked sketchy.

"Um, Peter?" You ask, approaching him.

"Told you I would be here." He says, not looking to you.

"So, what happened?" You ask, not wanting to waste any time as you stood beside him.

He looks at you and there's one curl covering his forehead while his eyes are sadder than they were earlier. Who knew someone could look so forlorn?

"Remember the war?"

"That nearly destroyed the city? Yeah, who could forget?" You quirked a brow, moving your stare to the water.

"Went to fight." Peter mumbles.

"A lot of people went to fight, Peter." You roll your eyes.

"No, no," Peter shakes his head. "I mean, I like went to fight."

"Yeah?" You respond, growing annoyed with his repetition. "A lot of people were fighting."

Peter groans and pulls your arm so you're facing him. "I mean I went to fight and I almost died. I was," Peter looks to the ground. "I was up against a lot and I almost died so I left."

"So, you almost died and your solution was to run the fuck away?" You can feel your throat wanting to start swearing at him.

"No," Peter's voice is quiet. "I went for three months because I didn't know what to tell you. Because I didn't know how I was going to continue this and be with you."

"Peter, what the hell are you going on about?" You scrunch your face and Peter sighs, bringing his hand up to the zipper of his hood. The sound of his zipper echoes quietly and as the fabric separates, you start to see a metallic red with hints of metallic blue, a spider emblem right on the chest. "You're kidding, right?" Peter just shakes his head. "You're....you're Spider-Man?"

"Yeah." Peter says. "That-that's why I was always bailing and out late and not answering your calls. I-I promise I wasn't just ignoring you. I just have to do this and then I went to fight this guy and he almost killed me and I didn't know how I was supposed to be Spider-Man and how I was supposed to be around anyone. A lot of people died, a lot of people died because of who they know. I-I couldn't bring you into that. Not then."

You blink a few times, trying to process what's going on. All this time, he's been Spider-Man. You never knew. You never suspected him but now it all makes sense. Random bruises, cuts, injuries. Everything. It all makes sense but you still find yourself completely devastated.

"You left to heal for three months and you couldn't call? You," You grit your teeth as you stare at him. "You couldn't tell me? Really? Because what? You were afraid I'd get fucking hurt? Guess what, Peter! I'm fucking heartbroken anyway."

"I-I'm sorry. I am, honest and if I could take it back and just tell you, I would. I really would."

"Well, you can't. You can't just change the past or make everything better by telling me. This, this makes it worse!" Your yell is cracked with rage and sorrow.

"How?" Peter counters.

"BEcause now I'm going to walk away from you and never know if you're okay and that's not fair either! BEcause you made me, you allowed me to walk out on you in the first place! Over this! Over fucking Spider-Man!"

"That's why I didn't tell you!" Peter's voice raises as his hands go in front of him. "I didn't want you to worry!"

"Well, look how great that's going!"

"You know what, y/n? You wanted to know what happened and I told you. I told you. Now, I'm telling you and you're still mad. You're madder than you were in the damn parking lot so what do you want from me?"

"To get the hell over you!"

Peter's eyes narrow as he scoffs. "I-I don't know how to do that." He shrugs one shoulder and his hands rest against his sides.

"I got answers." You surrender every ounce of fight you have. "I'm going home." You run on your heels, hands thrown in pockets and tears brimming.

"Stay." Peter's voice is rush and intertwined with agony. "I'm asking you to stay." 

You turn and face him, his eyes are darkened by the shadow of the tree above him and for a second, you question if you'll really stay this time. He left then you left but now he's here, like he said he would be and you know his secret and he almost died. He almost died and was too afraid to tell you because he can't stand the thought of you being worried about him all the time. He didn't tell you his secret because he wanted you safe. Peter was laying everything on the line to try and give you what you needed most but what you needed most was Peter Parker, Peter Parker from before it all happened.

"If being anything with you," You steady your voice with a deep breath. "Means having to deal with everything Spider-Man," You can see the tears pooling in Peter's eyes, knowing you were not going to give him the answer he was hoping for. You wanted to so fucking bad but how could you? If being anything with Peter meant worrying about him never coming home, how could you live like that? Surely, never getting over him would be better than waking up to a knock on your door or a phone call saying he was never waking up. "I can't stay."