Peter

The feeling sank deeper everyday. The thought that his Gwen was no longer here, alive and smiling. That she was below him, because he chose to keep her in his mess rather than listen to her fathers dying wish.

If he hadn't caught her with his web and rather had used his arms, maybe she'd still be here. Peter would never forgive himself for that. One move he made. It was enough to kill someone he loved so deeply.

Mistakes. That's what he hated most now. Not his best friend Harry Osborne, who had also been the reason for Gwen's death, but mistakes that could have gone differently.

If I had done things differently...

Peter shook his head clear of those thoughts as he finished shoving dirty clothes in a large box, double, then triple taping it because he couldn't trust the U-Haul to not break the tape open.

He had done that to the other boxes, whether there were breakables in there or not, he didn't care. As long as nothing opened, it would be fine.

Aunt May had left about an hour ago to get more items for Peter's new apartment. New towels, silverware, kitchen items, all of that. He tried talking her out of spending her money on him, but she was very insistent on it.

Looking around his bare room, Peter sighed quietly, sitting down on his bed that had yet to be torn down. He could use this time to move all of his boxes into the U-Haul, but he'd much rather mope about leaving his aunt.

Sure, the reason he was leaving was to keep her safe, but it's not like he wouldn't miss her. She had been there for everything. Taking him to get his license, his first homecoming, first prom and girlfriend. She was there for him when he needed her most.

When Uncle Ben died. And when Gwen did, too. She was all he had left. He wasn't going to risk losing her, too.

Sitting up again, Peter stretched for a moment before grabbing several large and heavy boxes, carrying them all downstairs and to his U-Haul. It only took five and a half trips (and a half because he dropped a box on the patio and had to run back to get it.)

In that time he had moved everything, along with his bed and dresser, Aunt May had come home with things for Peter. He just shoved it all into the U-Haul, spending a few minutes holding his aunt as she cried softly into his shoulder.

"You visit when you aren't working, alright?" May asked as Peter hummed a soft smile, and nodded.

"Of course. And if you ever need me I can just swing by." He smirked to himself at his joke, to which his aunt still hadn't a clue of his secret identity, and hugged her again. "I love you, May."

"I love you too, Peter. Please be safe." She ordered as he nodded, patting her back.

"I always am."

𖣔

Peter's apartment was on one of the less enjoyable parts of New York where crime usually happened, which was great for him. Kept him distracted from all of the personal things going on in his life.

Peter had attempted to move out of New York but quickly realized that May wouldn't like if he moved out of state for the first time, deciding to stick to the city and hope it went well.

His apartment wasn't much. Single bedroom and bathroom. Kitchen and living room were practically in the same spot but separated by a small island. It was both cozy and uncomfortable, but maybe he'd be able to make it his home.

His floor was currently unoccupied, since the building had been destroyed during his fight with The Lizard and was recently rebuilt. The apartment complex only held about four or five people right now, and one of those people occupied the apartment right above Peter's.

His apartment was also in a hallway that was separated by a door leading to other apartments, so it was just him and an empty apartment across from his. So, that meant he was probably going to be alone for a while.

And he was okay with that, for the most part.

𖣔

Peter looked around at his semi-furnished bedroom, his eyes slowly falling into a box that he shoved into a corner.

Gwen's things

His heart pulled him towards the box, though his feet were desperately trying to walk away. He had shoved all of the things she left in his room into that box the day after she died, and he hadn't looked at it since today.

He couldn't remember what was in there. Maybe some clothes, or makeup. Maybe a photo of her in her cap and gown. All he knew was that box reminded him of happier days. Days she was there.

His hands reached for the lifting tape, slowly pulling it back as the box sprung open with clothes, two pictures laid carefully on top of everything.

And he was right, one of the longer pictures was him and Gwen in their caps and gowns, bright smiles on their faces with even brighter futures they thought they'd have.

The other was just Gwen, her soft smile permanently on the printed picture, eyes piercing into the camera. He could practically feel the small amount of happiness that radiated from her in that picture. And he so dearly missed that smile.

The pain to debate putting the pictures up in his apartment was strong. If he put them up, that meant he hadn't moved on, nor had he forgiven himself. But if he kept them in that box, they would stay there until he moved again... or worse.

He couldn't do it. The thought of her was enough for him. Peter didn't think he'd ever move on. And how could he? First girlfriend, first true love, his first everything in a relationship.

Eventually he would forgive himself, but for now he'd have to deal with the pain of losing her. And maybe he would be okay with that.

He tapped the box shut again, going to his closest and hiding it away.

Maybe for good.

Okay, I think this prologue is pretty good. We obviously haven't met MJ yet, but we will soon, I swear. Hope you all enjoyed this and don't forget to comment, vote, and add this to your library so you don't miss when I publish the next chapter ;)