Fool

Peter Parker stood amongst the eerie fog and unaltered silence of the cemetery. The words on the stone in front of him seemed so foreign, so distant, though he knew the name was familiar. Benjamin Parker. As his fingers brushed over the engravings, he began to get a little bit choked up.

Not here, he thought, Not now.

"A real man isn't afraid to let it all out once in a while," Uncle Ben had once said. "Crying doesn't make you any less of a man."

The problem was not that he was afraid to cry, per se. In fact, he had been crying a little too often lately. He just didn't want to do it here; not in this empty graveyard.

He had been avoiding this trip to the cemetery for a while now, but he figured that maybe coming here could make the dreams stop. Well, more like nightmares. The night had become a cyclical purgatory in which he unremittingly relived the events of his uncle's death until sleep became impossible.

He would be in the car with Uncle Ben, drowning out the old man's words, storming out the car door, sauntering into the building, demanding the money he rightly deserved, letting the thief get away, seeing Uncle Ben's body, cold, unmoving –

"Pete!" a voice called from behind him, and he turned to see a familiar head of red hair. As she got closer concern coated her features, and she continued, "Are you okay? You're shaking again."

"I – what?" He could hardly even think straight anymore. "MJ?"

"I'm here, Pete. How are you?"

Peter sighed, avoiding eye contact. "I'm... okay." It was a diplomatic word.

"If, by some miracle, you find an amazing girl who is out of your league but still stoops to give you a shot in the first place, you should give her no reason to regret it," Uncle Ben had once said. "And don't let the stupid things tear you apart."

Peter hadn't bothered to listen at the time. As it turned out, he didn't even realize what good advice it had been until it was already too late, until he stood on the outside steps of the apartment building, watching as Mary Jane turned from him and walked away, her heels clicking down the concrete path.

"Pete?" Mary Jane asked, breaking into his memory and bringing him back to reality. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah," he replied, nodding, almost distractedly.

Mary Jane glanced over at Ben Parker's tombstone and sighed, trying to prevent the harsh, salty tears from welling up in her eyes. "Such a tragedy."

After a slight pause, he began again, "Listen, MJ, can we talk for a second?"

She seemed confused by his question. "We're already talking..."

"I know. But I mean really talk. You know, about us."

"Oh. That kind of talking." Her eyes wandered back to the slab of rock. "Is this really the place, Pete?"

"I feel like it's the only chance I'll ever get to talk to you about this." Even he could hear the near desperation in his voice. His furrowed brow formed a hard line against his otherwise soft features.

She pursed her lips before responding. "Maybe we should take a walk; go any place but here."

"I need to talk to you right now and—"

She interjected, "But it's so disrespect—"

"Dammit, MJ!" He hoped that he would be able to regain his composure after that. "Please... please, just listen to what I have to say, all right?"

Her arms folded against her lips, and she sighed in defeat. "I'm listening."

He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his brown hair, wishing he would have been able to wear his glasses so he had something to fiddle with. "I don't like where we ended. I was stupid. Trust me, I know. But I want to make it up to you, MJ. I want to make things right."

Her eyelashes fluttered, almost in response. "What do you mean, make things right?"

"Everything," he said, closing his eyes. "There's so much that I've done wrong. To you, to him—" He motioned to the gray stone.

Mary Jane must have, at that point, realized that the conversation transcended the petty argument that the two had fought out just a week before, and she moved closer to Peter, wrapping her arms around him. "I'm not mad at you, Peter. Please don't think that I am. I know it was stupid. I was stupid, too." She paused for a moment, mediating on what to say next, then continued, "And as for Uncle Ben... it wasn't your fault. You can't blame yourself."

"But it was." The whisper was almost inaudible.

"It was a freak accident, okay? You couldn't have stopped it; I mean, hell, maybe if you had superpowers or something—" Peter scoffed, but she ignored it. "But there was really nothing you could've done, Pete."

Peter tried to blink the tears from his eyes before looking back at her and exclaiming in amazement, "You're just... incredible. You know that?"

She half-smiled. "Do you feel better now? At least a little bit? I feel like I give pretty decent pep talks."

"It helped." His hand brushed against hers. "But, hell, even just seeing you helps."

"Let's not get all sentimental now, Pete."

He was deep in thought, lost again in memories, until he finally asked, "Where did I go wrong?" She tilted her head to the side, puzzled, so he tried to clarify. "What did I do to make you regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Giving me a chance."

She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. "You changed. It was simple as that. I wanted to be with the same, dorky Peter Parker that I've known all my life. And suddenly, that guy, that best friend, that familiar face... he was gone."

"He's still here," Peter cut in. "And he misses you."

"Well, I miss him, too. And if you happen to see him any time soon, tell him that I'm taking the bus home and that he should join me."

A smirk appeared on Peter's face. "I'll make sure to pass the message along."

Mary Jane laughed as he continued the joke. "You know, you're a fool, Peter Parker. A damn fool. Not always in a good way... but sometimes."

"If she leaves once and comes back, you'd be a fool to let her get away again," Uncle Ben had once said.

It was a reminiscent scene as Mary Jane walked, footsteps echoing, down the cobblestone pathway. But this time, Peter didn't just stand there. This time, he ran to catch up with her and hoped that maybe she'd have saved same old Peter Parker a seat next to her on the bus.

"A wise man doesn't need advice," Uncle Ben had once said, "and a fool doesn't take it."

Peter was sometimes a fool. Sometimes. And he did eventually want to be as wise as Uncle Ben. But, hell, as long as everything worked out, he was okay with being a little bit foolish... at least for now.