THE WEEK FOLLOWING her relief that her best friend was okay was full of Christina's annoyance that Peter had detention ever since his fight with Flash. But, while the blonde was irritated with him after everything that had happened that day, she did feel as though he deserved it and that he was suffering through a fair punishment that didn't last as long as either of them thought.

The second week after the fight consisted of Christina hanging out with Harry and Peter at her house every other day when they didn't have to study for any tests or they didn't have homework. They always saved their homework sessions for whenever they went to the Parker residence, and it always ended with them laughing themselves silly and not getting their homework done.

Well, Peter always got his homework done. Harry and Christina, however? Not so much.

Probably explained why they had failed at least one or two exams during senior year. Peter could safely say that he was disappointed in the two. But he still helped them from time to time, even though he would never let them copy off of him during their homework sessions. Whenever they would get stressed over not figuring something out, he was always there for them.

But, nowadays, Peter was a lot more closed off from the two; he hardly focused on his homework just like they did, and that was very unusual for him to do. Every now and then, Christina would catch him staring into space when he was supposed to be answering the questions of an assignment from any subject, which drew her suspicion. Eventually, the three would go from having sessions three to four days a week to about half an hour a week, much to Harry and Christina's disappointment.

So Christina started having homework sessions with just Harry, which led to them bonding more than they thought they would. They would often help one another when it came to studying and either one of them would suggest having a fifteen minute break every hour or two so they could just be themselves. It ended up working out, and they eventually started managing just fine without Peter's help.

The blonde girl was still concerned for her best friend, however, so she tried her best to reach out to him. But she would get the same reactions and responses every time she asked Peter. Every single time she questioned if he was alright, he would say something along the lines of, "I'm fine, Chris. Don't worry about me," or, "Nothing's going on. I have no idea what you're talking about." And, while Christina found that much more suspicious than normal, she chose to run with those answers and ignore her worries; this was mostly due to her not wanting Peter to lash out at her if she ever asked again.

She knew that day would come someday, but she didn't want that day to be anytime soon.

In the meantime, Christina chose to push her concerns to the back of her head as she continued to take notes in her notebook. She had a Calculus exam in two days and she wanted to pass it as much as she could since it was one of the last tests she would ever have to go through in that class. For that, she would be relieved when it was over.

She was lying on her stomach as she continued to take notes, Creed's What If playing softly from her record player on her dresser on the opposite end of the room. She was glad that it was playing quietly, since her mother was currently downstairs watching television and she didn't want to disturb her peace by having a loud song blare through the entire house. Despite it being a rock song, it helped Christina concentrate on her studying a lot more than she expected, but she figured she'd leave a little and maybe go study at the library.

Best to give Mom some more tranquility, the blonde thought to herself and she smiled.

Taking notes soon turned to Christina just drawing random shapes and animals since she started growing very bored. Her pencil eventually slipped from her left hand and she sighed, rubbing her right temple with her fingers as she got up from her bed and went to the bathroom across the hallway. She turned the knob on the sink and began splashing freezing cold water on herself so she would wake up more. "Come on, get yourself together," she mumbled after she was done.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a moment, taking note of the light scar that rested on her right eyebrow where she banged her head against the front doorway when she was nine. It was barely noticeable now but, if someone looked closely, they would ask questions. Christina touched it briefly before retracting her hand, almost as if it hurt to even touch the scar.

A small frown formed on her face when she saw just how tired she really was (I probably need a break, just a small one, she thought), but she tried her hardest to ignore that. It wasn't easy but she had to manage; she was so close to graduating now, and she couldn't give up. She couldn't allow herself to have a break, even for a single minute, unless she were to go to sleep right there.

Mom would scold me for not being easy on myself.

Christina eventually threw on a Beatles t-shirt, jeans with a few holes in them, and a pair of white Converse that she had lying around the room. She then slipped on a light green jacket before grabbing her notebook and Calculus textbook and heading downstairs towards the living room. She had a feeling that Margaret would stop her for whatever reason, whether that be so she had to wash dishes or take the trash out. Either way, she didn't want either of those things to happen.

"Hey, Mom, I'm headed to the library to study," Christina called out to her mother as she walked right past her, noticing the middle-aged woman watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? on the boxed-in television sitting in the far left corner of the room.

"No, you're not," she heard Margaret reply in return and she turned to see her stand up from the recliner that sat in front of the coffee table in the middle of the living room. "You're getting in the car with me and we're going somewhere. It doesn't matter where but I'm going to help you clear your mind for tonight."

"Mom..." Christina began, about to start protesting but Margaret held up a finger that represented her saying, 'Don't argue with me.'

"Don't you dare start with me," she retorted as she smiled at her daughter. "We're going to go somewhere to eat and God knows what else. Because tonight isn't 'Oh, I'm gonna lock myself in my room and study 24/7' night. Tonight is going to be 'I'm gonna spend quality time with my mother' night because we hardly even talk to each other anymore." Margaret grabbed her jacket and purse quickly before turning back to her daughter. "And I'm not gonna have that today."

The young adult rolled her eyes but she, reluctantly, gave in and followed her mother out the front door. She walked towards the Cadillac that Margaret owned but, before she climbed inside, she swiftly turned her head around and stared back at her house. She had no idea why she did this... maybe out of instinct? Gut feeling? She didn't know.

All she knew was that she had a bad feeling settling in the pit of her stomach, and she wanted to trust that instinct of hers. But she didn't realize when she would need to go along with it.

Taking a deep breath, she finally got into the passenger seat of the red Cadillac and saw Margaret waiting for her inside. With a smile, the older woman took her key and turned on the ignition before pulling out of the small driveway, noticing Christina staring out the window and at the houses that passed by at a brisk pace.

The blonde inhaled deeply as some secret form of relief settled into her heart, and she relaxed knowing that she was glad to be getting to spend time with her mother. She hadn't done so in so long and she never thought about how much she missed it, which made her feel selfish inside. A pang of guilt suddenly hit her and it made her sigh to herself since she had never even realized just how much time she had truly been spending by herself. It made her feel a little ridiculous knowing this and she now seemed like a small child instead of a nineteen year old woman that was about to graduate from Midtown High School.

She shook her head a little to snap out of her slight trance and she turned her head in her mother's direction, still frowning a little. "I'm sorry for not being around you as much," she mumbled to her shyly, cringing at how rarely timid her voice sounded. "I just wanted to study as much as I could lately because I don't want to fail any more of my tests and I want to graduate so badly and —"

"You don't have to apologize," Margaret responded pointedly, glancing over at her only child. "I understand why and I'm not mad at you for wanting to focus on succeeding in life. I just want you to take a tiny little break from all of that... even if it's just for tonight. Tonight, we're gonna focus on ourselves, okay? Tomorrow, you can go back to boring ol' studying like you always have been."

Christina knew that Margaret was joking, and that may have been what made her giggle just then. She didn't really know. All she did know was that she was happy to be talking to her mother again; and not just a passive back and forth like it had been lately. She was actually having a conversation with her. It made her reminisce about the many afternoons when she would come home from school and tell her mom how her day went and then ask her about how work was for her. Those conversations would last from at least ten minutes to at least an hour and a half to two hours.

Then the dreadful thought set in, and Christina knew that those days were quickly approaching their inevitable end. She knew that the afternoons of her coming home from school and talking to Margaret to the point that she wouldn't leave her alone were going to be over by the time August would round the corner and change the way she currently looked at life.

In fact, everything would change, really.

Not only would her time with her mother be limited, but Christina would become distanced from the two young men that she had been friends with since she was five (a mere two years after she, Margaret, and the girl's father moved to New York City from Missouri when Michael had gotten a new job). Who knew? There may have even come a day where she would stop speaking to the two completely, but she didn't want that to happen. But a lot of people would tell her that most high school friendships didn't last, but college friendships lasted for the rest of your life.

Well, she would believe that saying over her dead body.

Christina perked up after a little while when she noticed Margaret pulling into the parking lot of a local restaurant closer to downtown Manhattan, and she was surprised at the limited amount of traffic surrounding them. She glanced out the windshield and spotted the glowing blue sign that radiated the words Mi Nidito back at her. She jumped slightly when she felt her stomach growling rather loudly, and she heard Margaret trying to stifle a bit of laughter.

Rolling her eyes lightly, she stepped out of the car, immediately feeling the chilly air hitting her body and it made her shiver. She hugged her arms closer to herself as she tried to avoid the embarrassment she just went through.

After going inside, being seated, and taking their order, Christina glanced outward and into the dark New York night... a dark night that somewhat unnerved her. She sighed shakily as she drummed her fingers on the table, feeling anxiety for a reason that she personally could not comprehend. Maybe it was because that night time was always the worst possible time to be out in public in New York City, specifically downtown Manhattan. This was why she always preferred to stay inside a building or her own house whenever the sun set every single day.

She received her Coca Cola not too long after sitting down and she sipped it through the straw that was provided for her, humming softly to herself as she struggled to think of a topic to bring to her mother. No matter what topic that would be, it would be something casual and nothing more because tonight felt like the worst night possible to bring up something serious. But Christina could tell that Margaret was monitoring her every facial expression as though she were a therapist.

She's probably about to ask an important question, she thought to herself and she almost laughed. It caused her to start tracing the pattern of the restaurant table with her fingernails out of anxiety, which a new version of it was slowly forming by the second.

"You wanna talk about it, sweetie?"

Christina looked up at her mother and felt slightly intimidated, but only because she never really talked about mental health with her. It made her sigh to herself out of defeat and she smiled at her weakly, abandoning her journey of fiddling with the table's pattern and unique woodwork. Biting her lip, she opened her mouth before thinking about how she was going to say whatever she wanted to say to Margaret. After a few seconds of pondering, she finally decided to speak.

"I'm not really looking forward to graduating..." she admitted, looking towards Margaret solemnly.

Margaret's eyebrows scrunched together in surprise, frowning slightly. "What do you mean?" she asked gently, leaning forward just a little bit. "You used to always talk about how you couldn't wait to move into a dorm and make new friends and pursue your social working dream. Why the sudden change of heart?"

Christina shrugged her shoulders lightly as she hummed in reply. "I don't know..." she mumbled timidly, her inner shyness truly coming out for once. "Maybe it's because I'm so used to living with you that... it would feel lonely not being around you as much. I'm going to miss being at home and spending time with you...."

The middle-aged woman's face softened with sadness towards her daughter as she reached out and put a hand over hers. "Oh, honey..." she murmured soothingly. "You know I won't be that far away from you. You'll just be further downtown than Queens. And besides, I'm just a phone call away if you ever need me, okay?"

The blonde woman just simply nodded, feeling a little relaxation in her heart by knowing that her mother would always be there for her. Margaret was all she really had left after Michael had left when she was twelve, so she relied on that so desperately since everything had been really bad for over half a decade. She just tried to hide her negative emotions; that was why she was always so overconfident whenever she had the chance to be. It was only to hide her insecurity and her fear that she would never be good enough.

"Yeah, I know..." she said with a small smile on her face, knowing she still had people who loved her.

Margaret briefly moved over to the other side of the booth so she could get access to hugging her only child, smiling sympathetically as she held her. "Everything will be okay, sweetheart," she whispered to her lovingly, like she always did whenever Christina was upset as a little girl. She felt as though this would be one of her last chances to do this before her daughter moved away for good, so she wanted to take every opportunity she could to hug her since she didn't get as much time with her as she used to.

After a while, they got their food and they ate away, talking about random nonsense like they used to. It felt good for Christina to temporarily forget about her worries and stresses whenever she had her mother by her side helping her ease her concerns.

All she needed to worry about was eating all of her chicken, cheese, and rice. She would worry about final exams later.

Over an hour passed of just eating and having many conversations at a time and Christina became more animated and happy in her mother's presence, much to Margaret's absolute and utter relief. She was just glad that her daughter was cheered up from her dread of the future, not really aware of the fact that her blonde daughter and every single right in the world to dread the upcoming days to follow.

Something then interrupted the tranquility of their moment, however. In fact, the word 'peace' was taken and shattered against the metaphorical ground almost as if it were glass.

A loud gunshot sounded from just outside and next door to the restaurant; it was at one of the many downtown public libraries, as a matter of fact. Christina felt as though it were the only sound that had gone off at that moment, and her stomach dropped out of fear. Spinning her head around, she was able to see a small commotion going on from the limited view she had due to people starting to gather as witnesses to the potential mugging or murder. She couldn't get a clear look at what was going on, so the blonde woman stood up to peer through the glass and catch a glance at anybody she could possibly recognize.

"Chris, get down!" Margaret yelled desperately. "What on earth are you doing?!"

"What if someone needs help?!" Christina replied anxiously, turning back to look at her mother. "I've got to go see if whoever was shot is hurt... if anyone did get shot, that is."

"Are you crazy?!" Margaret shouted, standing up to follow her daughter outside. "Ugh, fine. But I'm gonna make sure nothing happens to you."

Christina didn't even have the courage to say that nothing would happen to her, merely nodding as she pushed the restaurant door open and stepped outside. The air was now freezing cold as she heard the screams of panicked people beginning to surround the scene of where the gunshot had taken place. Once she was able to get closer, however, she was able to get a glimpse of a figure standing in the middle of the crowd just as a beige station wagon speeding away into the distance. This made Chris freeze as she temporarily stared after the vehicle, recognizing the very familiar color of it.

It looked to be the exact shade of color, year, and style of a car that a certain elderly man that she had known for almost fifteen years owned.

No... Christina whispered in her mind. Oh, no... God, no!

Coming to a horrible realization, she sprinted forward and towards the crowd of people, ignoring her mother's pleas for her to come back. She attempted to push her way through the pandemonium of dozens of people in order to make her way to who she had a feeling would be awaiting her on the other side. But, as she did so, she distinctly felt herself being pushed out of the way as a middle-aged man sprinted out of the crowd and away from certain people shouting for others to go after him for what he had supposedly done.

Once she got to the front of the crowd after a long time, she saw that there were no authority figures on the scene just yet. But she did see a few civilians gathered around a man who was bleeding on the ground and trying to apply pressure to the wound in his chest. The moment she recognized who the man was, she let out a strangled wail and ran to his side, attempting to help the others stop the bleeding but she had the feeling that there would be no use.

"SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!" she screamed at the crowd, her face contorted in agony as she fell to her knees and crumbled. "HE'S HURT! SOMEONE CALL FOR HELP!" She then turned towards the man who she looked to as a grandfather for almost her entire life, noticing he was either unconscious or already dead. "Uncle Ben! Uncle Ben, can you hear me?! Please wake up!"

She didn't see Uncle Ben even make an attempt to open his eyes, but Christina stayed right by his side regardless. She didn't even register any other sound around her other than her own sobbing and heavy breathing as she tried her best to get him to come back to consciousness, knowing she was failing every time. She chose not to give up, however, knowing she would feel lifelong guilt if she did.

Eventually, the sound of police sirens filled her ears and she looked up to see several officers step out of their cars and approach her. That was when she felt her arms being grabbed by someone behind her and she was suddenly being pulled away from Uncle Ben, which was the last thing she wanted at that moment. She struggled desperately to be unleashed from the female officer's grasp and she even began to cry so much more than she previously was.

"Miss, you're gonna need to stay back so they can examine him," the female officer spoke up in a stern, yet sympathetic tone.

"No, please!" Christina sobbed hopelessly, tears coursing down her face as her arms gave up their fight against the officer. "You can't... He's my family..."

"I understand, and I'm so sorry, Miss," the female replied gently. "But you're gonna have to stay to the side so we can see if he'll be alright."

Once she was let go, Christina plopped down on the concrete sidewalk and buried her face in her hands out of pure grief and disappointment in herself. Out of all the times she had the opportunity to be the hero, this was the one instance where she didn't even get that chance, and it utterly destroyed her. She automatically felt like a failure, especially when the thought popped into her head of how she was going to have to tell Peter and Aunt May about this.

Fortunately... or unfortunately for her, she wasn't going to have to wait very long for that.

Margaret eventually came over to her and sat down next to her, immediately pulling her wrecked child into her arms. "It's okay, sweetheart..." she whispered shakily, tears very evident on her own face. "The paramedics are on their way and they'll take a look at him and... hopefully, he'll be okay...."

Based on her tone of voice, however, Christina concluded that Uncle Ben would not be surviving this ordeal... no matter what hope she had in her heart.

After about five minutes, she began to hear someone in the crowd muttering "Excuse me" repeatedly and she perked her head up just a tiny bit. Probably just a passerby wanting to see what happened, she thought sadly, and it made her look back down at the pavement of the wide open street being blocked by many people just passing by. But then she glanced back up when the voice got closer, and she could have sworn that her heart stopped beating a little out of horror.

She recognized that voice.

She got up in an attempt to block the view of Uncle Ben from who she knew it was.

But she wasn't able to make it in time.

"THAT'S MY UNCLE!" the voice bellowed.

Peter suddenly entered Christina's line of vision and knelt down in front of his dying uncle, making the blonde freeze in place out of guilt. She couldn't bring herself to walk up to him in order to comfort him, since she was afraid he would scream at her for not saving his father figure. So, instead, she just stood there and watched as he tried to get Ben to wake up, her legs shaking from the amount of emotional stress she had just put herself through.

It felt as if she had been staring at nothing for an extremely long time because, eventually, she found herself on her knees from having finally cracked due to the sadness. Her vision was blurry from the dozens of tears that had freed themselves from her blue eyes as she was helped off of the ground by Margaret and led towards their car back at the restaurant.

"Let's go home..." Margaret murmured to her comfortingly, although she was still crying. "We can maybe pay Aunt May a visit..."

Christina could barely bring herself to nod as she was pulled closer to the vehicle her mother owned. But, before she was completely removed from the crime scene, she noticed that a white sheet had been placed over Ben Parker's now deceased body, confirming his forever fate to the blonde. She could see him being placed on a stretcher and being loaded into the coroner's van.

And Peter was nowhere to be found. It was as if he was never there.

__________

Sitting on the couch in the silent living room, Christina stared at the carpeted flooring, messing with some of the marbles that Aunt May contained in the bowl on the coffee table. It was all she could do, and she couldn't say a single word to either woman in the room with her. Three hours had passed since she and Margaret arrived at the Parker residence, it was almost midnight. Still no Peter. He hadn't shown up at all. Christina knew he wasn't in danger; she just had the feeling that he was physically alright.

But mentally... emotionally... she knew damn well he was anything but okay.

This time, there was no way she could call him because she had no idea where Peter was now. All she hoped was that he was safe and that he would come home soon, but that didn't stop her hands from shaking out of pure worry for him.

A pained sigh left her lips as she looked upward and to her right, spotting Aunt May struggling to hold back her own tears, a hand over her mouth to keep the sobs silent. Christina wanted so badly to walk over to the elderly woman and hold her in her arms, but she couldn't even move; she knew she would be able to bring herself to comfort May later on, though, when she had her own messy emotions together for good.

"Do you know where Peter could have gone, sweetie?" Margaret asked Christina, glancing over at her daughter out of concern. "I saw him take off down the street and he seemed more angry than upset..."

"I don't know where he went," Christina stated bluntly and monotonously. "I wasn't able to pay attention. I didn't even see him leave, Mom."

"Okay, okay..." Margaret mumbled soothingly, placing a hand on Christina's tense arm. "Let's not get overworked, alright? I'm sure he's probably hitching a taxi ride back here. That poor kid... He doesn't deserve this....

Christina didn't reply as she sighed, her fingernails digging into her palms as her eyes casted downward and back onto the floor. She tried her best to emotionally detach herself from what was going on, even going as far as to count the amount of flowers on the piece of wallpaper in front of her. Her emotions didn't matter, the pain of Peter and Aunt May mattered more than hers ever would and she was aware of that. She used that to her advantage and tried to pretend that she wasn't hurt, focusing on the wallpaper as best as she could.

There are 124 flowers on that piece of wallpaper, she murmured in her subconscious.

She could faintly hear crickets chirping outside and it nearly brought her solace. Nearly. It still wasn't quite enough.

"You two don't have to be here," Aunt May said weakly, sniffing a little bit. "I feel like I'll be a bother to y'all."

"Nonsense, May," Margaret replied gently, looking over at the woman who was nearly two decades older than her. "We want to be here for you and Peter, okay? We honestly don't mind."

"Ben was important to us, too, May," Christina added, her voice cracking ever so slightly. "He was important to me... I always saw you two as grandparents.... I just wish you weren't going through this, that's all."

Aunt May visibly softened at Christina's statement and it even made her sigh, possibly more stressed than before. "That's sweet of you, Christina," she whispered. "But you don't have to say that about us, really. I appreciate it, but I don't want you to feel obligated to say that."

"I'm not feeling obligated about anything," Christina responded with a sad little chuckle. "I really mean it, I do. And if you and Peter ever need anything, I'll be there for you two. Mom and I will be here for you. It doesn't matter what you need. We'll be there...."

May Parker couldn't help but smile just a tiny bit, feeling nothing but grateful that Peter had gained a friend that would have done anything for him and his family, even if she had to die for them. Sure, she wouldn't have wanted that to happen, but she had the feeling that Christina would do that if asked so, no hesitation. She knew right then and there that Margaret Johnson had raised her only child correctly, just like she and Ben had raised their nephew right. They wanted him to grow to be a great man, and it seemed that Christina's mother wanted the same for her.

Christina went right back to being distanced from the other two women in the room, not in the mood to cry again. She would cry when she felt like she was allowed to, and now was not the time. Peter and Aunt May were the ones that were supposed to be crying, not her. Ben wasn't her uncle, he wasn't even her family by blood, but she felt as though he were her grandfather. He felt like the grandfather she had always wanted; her grandparents on her father's side rarely spoke to her, and her grandparents on her mother's side were dead. And now one of her surrogate grandparents was dead as well.

She knew that would be blamed... she was sure of it; she wasn't blameless, after all. She could have saved Uncle Ben's life, but instead, she had cried like a stupid little child. She had tried, she had certainly tried, but it wasn't enough.

Nothing was enough anymore.

Just what she needed. More pain. More internal torment. More emotional fights in her unconscious mind. Nothing she ever did would ever be enough.

Peter would, for sure, blame her for his uncle's death... and she would thank him for that. She would secretly be happy that he was blaming her.

God, she felt as though she could faint right then and there. But she didn't.

The wallpaper has 124 flowers, Christina thought.

She suddenly heard the front door open and her head snapped upward, staring in the direction of the entry hall. She had no doubt of who would be standing there, but the thought in her head didn't pain her any less, and it never would. Christina couldn't even bring herself to move from the couch when she saw Peter walk into her line of sight and Aunt May getting off of her rocking chair to step over to her nephew. The sight brought her even more grief, if nothing else.

Tears welled up in Christina's eyes again and she couldn't hold them back this time, allowing one to slip down her left cheek. She couldn't even imagine the suffering her best friend was going through; sure, she had lost her father but that was from him and Margaret splitting up and divorcing. Sure, he hadn't talked to her in seven years, but she didn't care about that anymore. Michael hadn't died, at least. Uncle Ben had died.

She didn't even have to hear what Peter was saying to know what he was telling Aunt May; he was confirming his uncle's death to her. She could hear May's cry of anguish as she fell into Peter's arms and wailed and shook with despair. It made Christina'a heart clench from the agony that crushed it from hearing those heartbreaking sounds of sadness. Now she did couldn't move from her spot on the sofa.

She could feel Margaret's hand gently take hers and squeeze softly, offering silent comfort, not able to think up the words she needed to say in that moment. But that was enough for her to handle, so she squeezed her mother's hand back.

After what seemed to be forever, almost like an eternity had passed, Christina caught sight of Peter and Aunt May breaking from their emotional hug. Several tears were now falling down her face and she didn't even wipe them away, feeling no need to. She locked eyes with her best friend — her closest friend, and that was all that was needed for her to break right there.

Christina got up and sprinted in his direction, practically throwing herself into Peter's arms as she sobbed hysterically. It was the only grief she had truly felt in her life, and it was soul-crushing for her to handle, and it made her tremble in her friend's arms as she cried more than she ever had in her nineteen years on this planet. She mumbled "I'm sorry" over and over again, trying her best to comfort Peter through the tears, but it was no use. She was just making it worse for the both of them and she knew that.

"I'm so sorry, Peter..." she whimpered through the sobs, clutching onto him desperately as she failed to keep him comforted, since she could hear him crying now. That made her emotions ten times greater than before and she practically broke right there, just wishing that he didn't have to cry over this.

Christina's sobs and apologies practically ripped Peter's heart to shreds, and it made him internally wince as he gently held her. He didn't want her to hurt since he felt he deserved it much more than she did... he was partially responsible for Uncle Ben's death, after all. If only he hadn't taken after that wrestling campaign.... If only he hadn't wanted a car so that he could impress Mary Jane (he was lying to himself but he didn't care)... none of this would have happened.

Ben wouldn't have been dead, Aunt May wouldn't have had to be mourning, and Christina wouldn't have had to be crying her eyes out in his arms.

Poor Chris... he thought to himself. She doesn't deserve to be feeling the pain that I'm feeling. She needs to be happy... she needs to be smiling.

"What are you sorry for, Chris?" Peter murmured to her as he pulled away to look down at her. He held her hands in order to keep her knees from buckling due to the agony she felt.

"If... If I had b-b-been there," she began, her voice breaking with every word and sob she let out. "I could have s-saved him... I'm so sorry... You can blame me i-i-i-i-if you want...."

Peter's eyebrows raised as he shook his head, pure sympathy washing over him as he stared down at the much shorter girl. "Why are you blaming yourself...?" he asked gently, a frown placing itself onto his face. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Chris... You didn't do anything wrong, I promise. None of this is your fault, I swear, okay? Please don't blame yourself...."

The words that left Peter left Christina with a new form of reassurance as she slowly nodded and hugged him again, burying her face into his shoulder as she cried more softly now. She vowed to be there for him through the grieving process as much as she could, even if she had to dedicate her entire life to him being happy.

She wouldn't hesitate to do so, however.

A/N: this chapter is done! woo-hoo! i always feel as though my chapters are either too long or too short! let me know which one...

anyways... uncle ben died and i'm sad now... :(

but not to worry! more uplifting chapters on the horizon!

also, it's obvious that peter is in love with christina at this point and that he's been faking his feelings for mary jane, right? no? just me?

anyways, be looking forward to the next chapter! i hope you guys enjoyed this one and even loved it! until next time!

-denbroughswife