The alarm clock went off with the same annoying buzz it always did. Peter groaned and rolled onto his side, blinking open his eyes. He moved again and reached under him to pull out a piece of machinery he'd been messing with the night before. After that, he shifted his father's glasses back into place on his face and reluctantly climbed out of bed.

While getting dressed, his eyes landed on the framed picture of him and Gwen. He paused in his scramble to get ready and picked it up. He still wasn't over her death. He wasn't sure he ever would be. It had been his fault she'd died. He could have saved her. He could have saved her...

Peter was snapped out of his thoughts when a teardrop landed on the glass that protected the picture. Still holding the picture in his hands, he walked over and opened the door to his room.

"Aunt May? I think I'm going to stay home from school today. I don't feel too good..." He looked down at the picture frame in his hands before closing the door to his room once more and locking it. He curled up on his bed and hugged the picture to his chest tightly. Tears rolled down his cheeks and stained the pillows and bed sheets. Peter eventually pulled the blanket over his head and continued to cry in the dark cocoon he had made for himself.

Vivid images of her frightened face as she fell flashed through his mind and sent another wave of hot, salty tears pouring down his cheeks. He could have saved her. This was all his fault. He should've saved her. She trusted him, and now she was gone. All because of him.

"I'm so sorry, Gwen." His voice came out a quiet whisper, full of sadness.
"I should have saved you. I'm so sorry." His voice cracked and trembled as he took shaky breaths. How could he have let her fall? He loved her so much more than he could explain, and now she was gone. She was gone and could never come back. And it was all his fault.

Peter cried like that for hours, still clutching the photo to his chest. He'd never get to see her beautiful smile again. Or hear her adorable laugh. Or just spend time with her, talking about anything and everything in the world. Eventually, he fell asleep with these thoughts, having dreams of their time spent together.

•~•~•

The next day, Peter woke up to his alarm clock again. He quickly shut it off and stayed in bed for a few minutes, just looking over the framed picture he'd slept with the night and day before.

"No, Peter, you have to get up. You have to go to school." He told himself. Peter stood and replaced the picture back to its spot, then walked over to his closet to get ready. It didn't take him long, and within five minutes he was ready. Pulling on a light jacket, he grabbed a piece of toast and shoved it in his mouth. He grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He hugged Aunt May quickly.

"Bye, Aunt May. Love you." He mumbled around his toast before taking off out the door. He burst out onto the sidewalk and started running, dodging people and apologizing quickly.