❝ goodbye, goodbye, goodbye,
you were bigger than the whole sky ❞

026. my boy only breaks his favorite toys

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐓. The fight was over. The Green Goblin was cured, along with the others. Yet, despite the victory, the massive, ominous rift in the sky — an unnatural tear spilling flickering streaks of violet—  remained. Dr. Strange was doing everything he could to contain it, but Peter could see the strain in his movements, the grim determination on his face. There was only one solution now, and Peter knew it.

The realization sat heavy in his chest, but he didn’t let himself dwell on it. Not yet. Not when he had more pressing concerns.

As Peter’s feet hit the ground in front of the statue, his heart lurched when he saw them running toward him — his friends. Ingrid reached him first, with MJ and Ned close behind, all three looking winded but determined. Relief washed over him like a tidal wave. They were alive. They were okay. For now.

Peter’s voice was urgent, almost desperate as he scanned Ingrid's face. "Are you okay?" He asked, stepping closer. His hands hovered awkwardly before he let them fall back to his sides, like he was afraid to touch her.

Ingrid gave a quick nod, her breaths coming out in short bursts. "Yeah, we’re okay," she managed, though the faint tremor in her voice didn’t escape him.

But Peter wasn’t convinced. His gaze locked onto her face, and his expression twisted with worry. Before she could react, his hands were on her, cradling her face gently but firmly. His thumb ghosted over a fresh cut on her forehead, where blood trickled in a slow, crimson path down the side of her face. "Oh my God," he murmured, his voice breaking slightly. "You’re bleeding."

Ingrid blinked, startled. "I — what?" Her fingers instinctively reached up, brushing against the wound. When they came away smeared with blood, she frowned, almost confused. She hadn’t even noticed. "It’s nothing," she said quickly, brushing it off. "I’m fine."

Peter shook his head, his grip on her face tightening ever so slightly as his eyes darted back to hers. "Are you sure?" His voice cracked, a mix of fear and disbelief.

"I’m fine," Ingrid repeated, her voice steadier this time. To reassure him, she cupped his cheeks, only to wince at the feel of his battered skin. The cuts, bruises, and swelling beneath her fingertips made her stomach turn. "I promise," she added softly, her eyes searching his.

Peter didn’t seem satisfied. He carefully pushed her bangs aside, examining the cut with an intensity that made Ingrid’s heart ache. His brow furrowed deeply, his lips pressing into a tight line. But then she smiled — soft, tired, and warm.

For a moment, Peter let himself believe it. He let the weight in his chest ease as he mirrored her smile, his lips tugging upward despite himself. The chaos around them faded into a distant hum. It was just the two of them, standing on the edge of a collapsing world.

The spell was broken by MJ’s voice, sharp and practical. "We should go… right?" she asked, her tone laced with urgency.

Peter’s smile vanished. His throat tightened as reality came crashing back. He glanced at MJ, then at Ned, and finally back at Ingrid. This was it. The moment he’d been dreading. He didn’t want to say it, but he had to. Better to rip the bandaid off quickly than let it fester.

"You’re gonna forget who I am," Peter said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ned was the first to break the heavy silence. "What?" His voice cracked, disbelief etched into every syllable.

Ingrid stood frozen, her frown deepening with every passing second. Her eyes flicked upward, to the jagged tear in the sky where streaks of purple lightning crackled and twisted, breaking apart the soft hues of the early morning light. She shook her head sharply, as if trying to shake off the weight of Peter’s words. "Peter, what are you talking about?"

Peter forced a swallow. "It’s okay," he said, his voice low and strained, barely managing to hold steady. "I’m gonna come and find you, and I’ll explain everything. I’ll make you remember me. It’ll be like none of this ever happened. Okay?"

Ingrid shook her head, her movements growing more frantic as tears threatened to spill. "No, not okay!" she snapped, her voice breaking under the strain of her emotions. She took a shaky step closer to him, her chest rising and falling unevenly. "I swear, if Strange put this idea in your head—" Her voice faltered as her gaze shifted upward, locking on the distant figure of Dr. Strange standing at the top of the Statue of Liberty, his silhouette barely more than a speck.

"But what if it doesn’t work?" MJ’s voice cut through the air, tight and trembling.

Peter’s eyes dropped to the ground, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the question. It was one he had been trying not to think about, one he didn’t have the strength to answer. "It has to," he muttered, his voice almost inaudible.

"No, no, no!" Ingrid’s voice rose, cracking with desperation. Tears streamed freely down her face now, and she didn’t bother wiping them away. "There’s gotta be something else we can do." Her hands balled into fists at her sides as she took another step forward. "I... I can do something, right? We don’t need magic!" Her words came out in a rush, almost frantic, as if saying them fast enough might make them true. "I can fix this. Please, Peter." She looked at him, begging him to believe her, begging herself to believe.

Peter shook his head, his own tears brimming just out of sight, his jaw tight with the effort to hold them back. "There’s nothing we can do," he whispered, each word cutting deeper than the last. "But we’ll be okay."

"You promise?" Ned’s voice wavered, small and fragile, as he spoke up again. He looked at Peter, his eyes wide and glistening.

Peter hesitated for the briefest moment, his chest constricting with the lie he was about to tell. Then he nodded. "Yeah," he said, his voice firm despite the ache in his heart. "I promise."

Ned swallowed hard, his lips trembling as they went through the motions of their handshake — one last time. It was familiar, comforting, and unbearably final. When it was done, Ned pulled Peter into a tight embrace, burying his face against his shoulder. "I’ll come find you," Peter murmured, his voice barely audible. "Okay?"

Ned nodded against him. "I know you will," he said, his words muffled but steady.

Peter didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to break the connection, but he had no choice. He pulled away, turning next to MJ.

MJ tried to force a smile, but it wobbled and fell apart before it could fully form. Her laugh came out as a choked sob. "You better," she said, jabbing a finger weakly at his chest. "If you don’t, I’m just gonna figure it out myself. I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again."

Peter managed a faint, broken smile. "I know," he said softly, wrapping his arms around her. "I believe you."

Peter knew what came next, but knowing didn’t make it any easier.

Ingrid was staring at him, her big green eyes shimmering with unshed tears, her expression caught somewhere between heartbreak and desperate hope. She looked utterly lost, and it made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t thought possible. He bit back a sob, his throat tight as he forced himself to stay strong — for her, if not for himself.

"You’re sure there’s nothing I can do?" Ingrid’s voice was soft, trembling, almost childlike in its vulnerability. Her hands hung uselessly at her sides, as though she wanted to reach for him but didn’t know how.

Peter’s face softened, even as the weight of the moment pressed harder on his shoulders. He shook his head, barely able to meet her gaze. "Only wait for me," he murmured. He couldn’t do this anymore — not the talking, not the pretending to be okay. The pain was too much. With a shaky breath, he pulled her into a tight embrace, burying his face in her hair. "I promise I’ll fix this," he whispered, his voice breaking against her ear.

Ingrid held onto him like he was the only thing tethering her to the ground. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped, the world outside their bubble fading away. But she couldn’t stop herself from pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes. Her hands trembled as she cupped his cheeks, her thumbs brushing away the tears he hadn’t realized were falling. "I love you," she said, her voice steady despite the tears streaking her face.

Peter froze, his wide eyes searching hers as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard. His lips parted, a response forming on the tip of his tongue. But Ingrid wasn’t finished.

"I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time," she said, her voice breaking now, raw and vulnerable. "But I need you to know. I love you. No matter what happens. I love you."

Peter’s world was, quite literally, falling apart at the seams, but somehow, she was the only thing holding him together. Despite the chaos around them, he smiled, soft and genuine. "I love—" he began, but Ingrid cut him off with a shake of her head.

"Just wait," she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut as fresh tears spilled over her cheeks. She couldn’t bear to look at him now, couldn’t let herself break completely. "Tell me when you see me again. If you say it now..." Her voice caught in her throat, and she took a deep, shaky breath. "If you say it now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go."

Peter swallowed hard, choking on the words that were clawing their way up his throat. Instead, he forced them down and nodded. "Okay," he whispered, his voice hoarse and thick with unspoken emotion.

He leaned in, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat, and kissed her with all the love, fear, and desperation he’d been holding back. His hands cupped her face, pulling her closer, and she melted into him, her fingers clutching at the fabric of his suit as though it might keep him there. The salty tang of their tears mixed with the kiss, making it bittersweet, a memory that he would ever forget. She will.

But Peter knew it couldn’t last. He forced himself to pull away, every fiber of his being screaming at him to stay. Taking a shaky step back, he looked at her — really looked at her — as if trying to memorize every detail.

She was beautiful, even through the tears, even as her lips trembled and her shoulders shook with silent sobs. He offered her a small, bittersweet smile, the kind that broke hearts and stitched them together all at once.

He turned, leaping onto the edge of the concrete. For a brief moment, his gaze flickered to the sunrise, the pink and gold light painting the horizon like a fragile promise of hope. Then his eyes returned to her, the person he’d always fought for, always would.

Ingrid forced a smile despite the tears streaming down her face. Her lips moved silently: I love you.

Peter felt his chest tighten, his own tears threatening to spill over. He clenched his fists at his sides, physically stopping himself from saying it back. Instead, he gave her a small nod and a trembling smile.

And then, Spider-Man swung away, leaving Ingrid standing there, her heart breaking as she watched him disappear into the rising sun.