Archive of Our Own ^beta

She sleeps peacefully, no signs of worry and wear reflected on her elegant face. Puffs of air leave her parted lips with every exhale and he hovers his fingers over them, the warmth pleasant against the digits. She paints her eyelashes and brows darker when they are awake, but carefully wipes it away before bedtime, letting the pale hairs that frame and protect her eyes to shine like gold. A light smattering of freckles cover her nose, fanning out over her cheeks and he spends sleepless nights after his patrols kissing every single one of them.

She is a dream come true. She is everything he's ever wanted, the perfect being. The reminder of a woman he'd loved. And therein lies the problem. He can accept Gwen Stacy's daughter, but he cannot comprehend the father, his arch nemesis.

Gwen's killer.

He doesn't want to admit it, is ashamed of the fact, but in these moments it's easy to ignore who she is. It's pathetic of him, he knows it, but he needs to pretend she's Gwen. Her golden hair, eyes the color of the sky on a bright summer's day, pink lips he was drawn to even years after that day...

But when he focuses on her eyes, when he cannot pretend anymore, the act fails. The gaze is cold, calculated and predatory. She smiles at him and it is like facing a shark. He doesn't truly fear most of his rogue's gallery, those unfortunate men who seemed happy to abandon all common sense and make a quipping costumed Spider their primary obession, but the big exception will always be Norman Osborn.

And here he is, holding Norman's daughter in his embrace, loving her with everything he has to offer. Hoping it'll be enough to erase the father and make the mother live again.

~~

MJ doesn't talk to him. She can hardly be blamed for that. The divorce proceedings had been quick and the entire time she'd refused to spare him a single glance. She's accepted an offer for a role in Hollywood and he knows she took it without thinking it through. On the day her plane leaves he goes to see her off, not expecting her to acknowledge his existence. Amid the crowd of theater people bidding her farewell, she sees him and shocks everyone by walking over.

"Peter."

"Hey, MJ. Um, good luck. You won't have a day's rest when you get there, so try to look after yourself, okay?"

She sighs. "Why did you come here?"

"We're still... Okay, perhaps not friends, that's too much, but we've known each other for years and despite everything that's happened, I want to know you're doing alright."

Sniffing, though not in sadness - she is beyond that - she digs around her purse. "Does Sarah wish me well?"

"MJ," he turns to look away, the visage of his ex-wife's hurt too much to bear, "please, let's leave her out of this."

"I always knew I was second rate to Gwen," she whispers, still digging into the depths of her purse, as though the answer to all her problems lay at the bottom, "but to even be second rate to her daughter? Norman Osborn's daughter? You fell for it hook, line and sinker, and I've never been more humiliated and disappointed in my life."

"You aren't second rate, Jesus, you've never been that. I still love you and I always will, but-"

"But she has Gwen's face and her blood and that's all that matters. Good-bye, Peter, when you've grown bored of your new wife, don't call me - I'm sure you have some other hapless fool just waiting to become the next Mrs. Parker."

He doesn't watch her leave, but stays rooted on the spot until the sound of her voice and the clicking of her heels fades amongst the crowd around them.

~~

The relationship had started purely by accident.

He'd been happy with MJ, Sarah had been on a mission to kill him. He'd defeated her and her twin, she'd learned the truth about Norman. They left on more understanding terms and that was that. The memory of Gwen was tainted, though he felt embarrassed by his reaction to learning she'd had sex with Osborn of all people. A dramatic scream to the skies wasn't perhaps the best image, but he could live with it. He didn't know if he'd ever see Sarah again, but a part of him was pleased something of Gwen's lived on in this world.

Then he ended up in France and spent time with her. It wasn't proper, all those evenings alone with her, laughing at her jokes and admiring the curve of her waist, but MJ wasn't there. When they'd kissed, he wanted to pull back.

But MJ wasn't there.

So he'd deepened the kiss and she had tugged on his shirt. Afterwards, when they were panting on the couch, clothes thrown around the room, he'd cried.

"Oh God, no, I'm married, oh fuck..."

She'd shushed him and their lips met again. The allure of her had been strong but so was his guilt. When she'd figured that out, she stopped and rested with her elbows on his chest, staring down at him.

"I know you wanted me," she'd purred, "and I want you too. This face of mine, I know why you are drawn to me and I don't begrudge you for it. I want to make you happy, Peter, and take care of you." She'd leaned forward and whispered the truth against his ear. "You can't protect Mary Jane, not really, but I am the daughter of a murderer, one of the most feared and hated men in the world, and no one will dare face me. I can hold my ground and you can finally relax, have everything you've ever wanted." She'd taken a sharp intake of breath, her last words coming out far too excited. "I can have what I've always wanted."

Words of sin.

But he had accepted them. And now, he had to learn how to live with them.

~~

Aunt May is upset and makes passive aggressive snips at Sarah whenever they visit her. Peter pulls her aside and tries to stand up for his new wife.

"She doesn't deserve this, Aunt May, she's a good person."

She raises her eyebrow. "A homewrecker who tried to kill us? My dear boy, what has she done to you? That can't be what you really think."

"People change, I want you to see her like I do."

"Oh yes," she drawls, glancing toward the door leading to the living room where they'd left Sarah, "Gwen's skin over the body of a Goblin. I see her, yes."

They make their excuses soon after and leave the tense household of his childhood. Afterwards, when they're getting some pizza, she leans on him, looking off into the distance.

"Do you think she'll accept our baby?"

He shrugs. It's easier to pretend the words get stuck in his throat than to admit he doesn't have anything to say.

~~

Yawning, he opens the window to his bedroom and slips in quick. He's more careful now than when he was still dealing with regular costumed kooks, but you could never be sure whose head was turned the wrong way. The sun hadn't set yet so it was still bright enough to remember details better left forgotten. More than ever he is grateful for not making the greatest mistake of his life and revealing his identity to the public. He still remembers the cold hand around his heart when the idea had first made rounds and the instant deicision to pull back from Tony Stark.

Throwing his suit on the bed and making a note to clean it after dinner, he makes his way into the living room and stops dead in his tracks. "What the-"

"M'boy! How are you?"

"Why the fuck is he here?" Peter growls, unnecessarily pointing towards the object of his displeasure.

Sitting there as though he were a regular and beloved guest to his apartment was Norman Osborn, former convict, current head of the Thunderbolts. The Green Goblin. His legs are stretched out on the ottoman, one thrown over the other, and he daintily holds a cup of tea. Sarah sits next to him, hands resting on his bicep, a curiously nondescript smile dancing on her lips.

"I asked daddy to come over, he's been asking to see us," she clarifies and Peter grows more upset.

"You've been talking to him? Excuse me, but I hope this hasn't been going on when he was still sitting in a cell. A cell, might I add, you should find your way back to, Norman."

She huffs. "Of course I talked to him then. He's my father and he deserves to know how we're doing, especially now that there's a baby on the way."

Norman jumps in, a wide grin on his face. "Indeed. I have to make sure you're treating my only daughter right, Peter, though I have every confidence in you. Always have!"

Peter doesn't know what to say. This feels like a dream and a nagging thought is trying press through, reminding him of Aunt May's words regarding Sarah. But no, she was wrong, Sarah did not deserve to be judged based on who had fathered her.

(Even if she still kept his company)

"But I won't linger," Norman continues, "I have too much work nowadays, important stuff. I just wanted to see my darling little girl again." He turns to her, teasing. "Twins again, maybe? Or a precious girl? I'd love a tiny princess to spoil."

"Only one this time, dad. And a boy, but I hope you aren't too disappointed."

Getting up, the older man shrugs. "Oh, it doesn't really matter. In any case, you're both so young, there's enough time to fill the house with the sounds of tiny feet." He walks over to Peter and slaps a strong palm on his shoulder. "Can you imagine it? An Osborn and Parker child, what a great man my grandson will be."

"Stacy and Parker, Norman." With a sharp jerk backwards, he shrugs the older man's hand off him and notices with dark satisfaction how his eyes flash with barely contained rage. "Sarah didn't carry your name, she had her mother's."

A muscle under Norman's eye twitches, but he manages to cool off and plaster on a painfully fake smile. "Ah, but it's the blood that matters. Names are grains of sand, all with the fate of Ozymandias. But no matter. I'll call, Sarah darling. Tell me when the babe gets here, I can't wait to meet him."

After he leaves Peter and Sarah avoid each other. She goes to thoroughly clean the one cup her father used while Peter furiously scrubs an imaginary stain on his suit.

~~

Norman's visit fills him with rage, but a more curious creature ends up being Gabriel Stacy.

Without warning, he'll show up for dinner, shaggy and dirty, clothes thrown on haphazardly. Sarah will tut and nag at him until he washes up, after which he'll sit at the table, devour the contents of his plate in a minute and stare at the other two occupants under his brow. Today is no different.

"How ya doin', Gabe?" Peter asks. The man unnerves him, but that might just be Norman's face on a younger body causing that. He's not sure what Gabriel actually does every day and if he's keeping out of trouble, but Sarah uses her soft, comforting voice to assure him of her brother's well-being.

Gabriel grunts. Peter desperately wants to ask him to translate that from caveman, but bites his tongue. After a glare from his sister, the other man turns his constant frantic gaze towards Peter. "I'm fine."

"Do you have a job? Not trying to sound like a nagging dad, just curious."

His plate is empty, but Gabriel makes a show of trying to gather the last microscopic-sized pieces of vegetable on his fork. He's squirming and lets the silence linger before answering. "Kind of."

"Okay. Well, if you need money, I can help. I don't have much, but I'm always willing to lend a hand to family."

"Are we family, Parker?"

"Now, Gabe," Sarah says, looking at her twin with a suprisingly mocking smile, "he's your brother-in-law, of course we're family. It's nice, isn't it?"

Gabriel tilts his head and narrows his eyes at his sister. "Y'know, not too long ago we thought Pete here was our father. And now you're screwing him. Dunno, it's getting a bit Freudian here. If we hadn't learned the truth maybe you would've gone after our actual father, make it even more fucked up."

He expects her to jump out of her seat and scream at him to get out, but she just laughs loudly, never once showing any discomfort at the direction the conversation took. It's somewhat concerning and Peter feels a heavy bang of worry in his heart. Yet, his Spider-sense never goes off around them and he doesn't have an argument against trusting it. They're just weird - odd, sad children raised in an empty manor by a distant, domineering man whose hands were covered with the blood of their mother.

After Gabriel has left, he asks her if she's alright.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she says, that damn smile still dancing on her lips. "Oh, if it's the stuff Gabe said, ignore it. It's just our jokes, you wouldn't get it."

Our jokes. Why did it feel like they were laughing at him?

~~

Their son is born without complication and he forgets every peculiar thing surrounding his wife and her family. His son, his boy. He cries upon seeing him and can't quite believe the warm, pink body in his arms is truly his baby. She's gone through labour, but seems more put together than Peter. Her nose is buried in her phone and she's sending off rapid texts to presumably her father. A short while ago, her twin had sauntered into the room, taken a long look at the baby, offered a clipped congratulations to his sister and left. If someone were to ask about it later, Peter wasn't sure he could with a hundred percent confidence claim Gabriel had actually been there. But he didn't really care about the other man right now.

"Hey, buddy," he whispers, softly as not to disturb his boy, "I'm so glad to meet you. You might know me, I'm the annoying fella who kept pressing his hands against your mama's belly and singing off-key, but I promise I'm not that annoying. At least not all the time."

Sarah looks at them with almost boredom after pausing her typing. "Do you want to name him after someone? Your dad or uncle?"

"Yeah. Benjamin Richard Parker. We can call him Benji, suits a tiny kiddo better."

"Hmm, alright."

"I mean," he says, glancing at her, "do you have something else in mind? Anything but 'Norman', I won't accept that."

"You seem fine with your Godson named after him."

"Sure, but that was Harry's choice. Besides, they're gonna be cousins and having the same name would be confusing."

Waving her hand, she turns back to her phone. "It's fine, I want the baby to have your choice of names. It's a Parker baby after all. Let's not talk about Harry. "

A nurse comes to check in on them and he tries to pretend he isn't confused by her last sentence. She's just tired, let her be. It didn't mean anything.

~~

The struggle is finally over and Norman is lead back into a jail cell. They can all stop pretending it is normal to have this murderer pretty much running the country, doing whatever he pleased. He's not quite gloating enough to pop open a champagne bottle, but he feels smug and cocky. It's a victory to the true saviours and heroes of this country, not that fake hiding his monstrosity away behind the metallic shine of red, white and blue.

Of course, Sarah goes to visit him. Peter isn't surprised, but he'd hoped it wouldn't have come to this. She takes the baby along and he protests every time.

"He doesn't need to see him. We're better off without Norman and there's no reason for him to see what a piece of shit his grandfather is."

She rolls her eyes. "He's a baby, he won't remember this. Dad wants to see Benji and it makes him happy. He's still an Osborn, even if he doesn't carry the name. I don't know why you have to start so much drama over it."

But he's not willing to back down. It's pointless, she'll go anyway and he won't grab her arm like a brute and hold her back, but he wants to know he at least did all he could. "Benji deserves better than his first memories being of a dim, depressing prison and seeing a grandfather who doesn't really give a shit about whether he lives or dies."

"Daddy loves him. He should. You don't know anything, Peter." She leaves and Peter dons his suit and punches away his anger in the face of a criminal.

When she's like this, he misses MJ. God, it's such a mess. He'd been scrolling through his social media account while Benji had been napping on his chest and a post had popped up announcing her engagement to some hotshot pretty boy actor. He shouldn't have been angry at that, she wasn't his wife anymore, but the old emotions flared up and he had to admit there were still some issues he had to work through.

Sarah is his wife and he loves her. She has given him a son.

He loves her.

One day Sarah dresses up again and puts Benji in his stroller. He looks at her wearily, still aching from the beating Octavius had given him the day before. He doesn't want to argue, but can't break habit. "You need to sto-"

"We're going to visit Liz and Normie," she declares, stopping his complaint. He is taken aback. He had no idea she even had any interest in meeting her older brother's family.

"Oh! Well, I'll join you then, I can leave these papers for later, it's not that important."

Liz greets them with a measure of suspicion and it occurs to him she's never actually met Sarah before, though she is aware of her background. Sarah in comparison is chatty and clings to Liz's side, her eyes rarely leaving the other woman's fairly unnerved face. Once they've settled down, Liz leads them into Normie bedroom and the little boy is delighted at seeing his Godfather again.

"It's been so long, Pete," he whines, tugging the older man to sit down with him on the floor, "I wanna show you all my games and figurines."

Peter laughs and enjoys the presence of this sweet little boy, the only thing left of his best friend. The memory of Harry still brings tears to his eyes and he curses Norman's sickness, the horrid way he'd treated his then-only child. Little Normie looks so much like his father, though prettier - he knows Harry wouldn't be offended by that - and his wide blue eyes and mop of curly red hair complete the look.

"I'd love to see all of those, but I want you to meet someone first. Sarah, can you bring him over?"

Normie looks at the strange woman - his aunt - curiously, but is distracted by Peter's arms being filled with the form of his sleeping son. "Is that your baby, Pete?"

"Yup. His name is Benjamin - Benji - and he's actually your cousin. Your grandpa's daughter's son." He is sure Liz has told Normie of his extended family, but considering how much she can't stand Norman, he doesn't take it for granted.

"Oh yeah! I know that." He leans over to look at the baby's face closer. "Little cousin, hi! My name is Normie, from Norman, but I'll call you Benji too cuz that sounds nicer."

Benji smacks his lips, but doesn't wake. Staring at him a while longer, but growing bored by the lack of response, Normie turns back to his games and starts to show them off to Peter.

Before they leave, Liz pulls Peter to the side. "Look, I didn't want to bring it up while she was hovering over me, but I have to ask you something."

"Shoot."

She seems uncomfortable. "She has a brother, right?"

Oh boy, this won't be good. "Yeah, Gabriel. Big tall fella with the typical Osborn face and coloring but no waves. Have you met him?"

"Sort of." She hesitates and lowers her voice. "I think he's been hanging around the place. I'm actually sure it's him, he does look like Norman a lot and at first I thought it was him. That scared the shit outta me. But then I realised he was younger and well, Norman is safely locked away. Actually, Normie told me about him first. I'd sent Normie down to get the mail, let him do some tasks on his own and all, and Gabriel had been there. He'd stopped him and just stared at him up close. When he came back, he told me about it, but didn't seem too distressed. I think he mentioned something about him seeming very familiar to him. But Peter, I'm still scared. I don't know him and here he is, stalking us and I've no idea what his intentions are. Can you say something to him?"

Was this what Gabriel meant when he'd said he "kind of" had a job? Peter was disturbed. "I'll talk to him, don't worry about it. I'll make it clear what he's doing is wrong. I don't want to make excuses, but in a lot of ways he's still a kid and I guess he doesn't understand what he's doing is wrong."

Liz thanks him and the moment they get home, he asks Sarah to invite Gabriel over.

"Did Liz say something?"

"Yes." He studies Sarah's neutral expression. "Do you know what it's about?"

She picks Benji up and gives him a bright smile. "No idea. I'll call Gabe."

The smile doesn't reach her eyes.

~~

Something about him seeming very familiar to him.

That phrase keeps bothering Peter and he has to admit he knows why. It's easy to wave it away - after all, Gabriel is Norman's son and little Normie can see the resemblance between them. He wouldn't find his uncle's face too foreign.

But...

That isn't the only thing, is it, Pete? He'd talked to Gabriel and made Liz's request clear, using that opportunity to try and see him through Normie's eyes and grew very uncomfortable. That same feeling of familiarity also hit him whenever he looked at Sarah. Very slowly and not with any strength, his Spider sense starts to go off near them. He doesn't understand this power a hundred percent, but knows it doesn't lie to him. Still, it could miss things so he has to be careful. When it goes off when Peter is sure there isn't anything threatening him, that's when he grows concerned.

What is it about the Stacy twins that so bothers him? And not only him, but everyone else who meets them. Only Norman seems oblivious to their peculiarities, but perhaps he can hide it better or he knows more than he cares to let on. Peter isn't in a hurry to see him and discuss the matter so it is a moot point.

It's late at night and the sun hasn't set yet, a burning glow of red still hanging on, lighting up the sky. He sits on top of a skyscraper and waits, his half-eaten hot dog having grown cold in the higher altitude. A trail of fire rises from the direction of the sun and if the world weren't populated by superpowered beings it would be cause for concern. But every eye drawn to that sight knows what - who - it is and they ignore it. The buring red-hot trail changes angle and Peter sees it coming his way at a breakneck speed. He doesn't move, only reaching over to his side to unwrap a bruger. A moment later the flash of fire reaches him and in the flames the figure of a man can be seen.

"Hey, man! Oh, you got my fave?"

"As ordered. Kinda stale and cold now, but I know a guy who could heat it up again."

Johnny Storm sniggers and plops down next to him, turning his powers off. He's in his regular Fantastic Four suit and Peter knows he's come from a mission. "Who was it this time?"

"Oh, you know, some dude from an alternate reality who wanted to bla bla bla. Same old, let Reed deal with the whys and hows, I just helped burn down some drones. Now gimme that burger, I don't chat for free."

With a few bites the food disappears down his throat and Peter is weirdly reminded of Gabriel. He too eats as though he is afraid it will be his last meal. Another quirk of his, but with recent developments, he's been overanalyzing everything the twins do. "Hey, can I bounce off some ideas?"

The other man wipes off the crumbs that have fallen on his thighs and nods. "Sure. A scientific matter? Please no, I want something fun."

"Not fun, not scientific, sorry. But, well, it's about my wife. And her brother as well, actually."

Johnny becomes more serious and raises an eyebrow. "Ah."

"Yeah. Well, it's just something I struggle to put into words. My Spider sense - I've told you about that - warns me of danger, but that's relative, isn't it? How does it measure, for instance, the angle at which a steel beam is about to fall on me? Or if the amount of damage I am about to recieve is dangerous enough it could kill me?"

"You said this wouldn't become scientific."

"Sorry, I'll get to my main point in a bit. It senses the area around me, makes judgements based on that. In a way it isn't too dissimilar to an advanced AI and I can guess it must somewhat feed on the information I recieve and make its own judgements based on that. Johnny, my sense has been going off near my wife and her brother, and I don't know what to make of it."

Leaning back to rest against the stone wall, Johnny stares at the last remnant of the sun still clinging to its place over Manhattan. He isn't a brilliant mind capable of complex theories and plans like his brother-in-law, but he's smart in a completely different way - a way Peter needs right now. "First of all, when did this happen? Or was it gradual and sort of snuck up on you?"

"It was something Harry Osborn's widow, Liz, said. Her son had found Gabriel familiar somehow even though he hadn't known who he was. It shouldn't mean anything, he just thought Gabe looked like Norman or even his father, but I started noticing the same thought coming to me whenever I looked at Sarah, and I can't pinpoint what I mean by that. Of course she's familiar - she's my wife, I knew her mother, her father is my nemesis. But there's a difference somehow and when I started poking at the idea, it triggered my sense."

"It does kind of sound like you gaslit yourself into being suspicious."

"I know, but it isn't like that. I can't control my sense, that's the whole point. It doesn't depend on my stress levels. When I was younger, it was less developed and I would miss people who wished to harm me. That's how Norman got me the first time. He was nice and promised me a job, nothing was off. Yet he'd wanted to catch me in a trap and get rid of me. My sense did nothing then."

Johnny thinks it over. "Your Spider sense isn't as reliable as you think it is. It can tell you all these things, but it doesn't have a voice so you have to learn how to interpet it. And Pete, I've seen you do great things with it, no other hero is as good at dodging danger as you, it's amazing. Though, don't grow too big of a head now." He waits until Peter has stopped chuckling. "I say ignore it and stay calm, but try to unravel the mystery you've obviously stumbled upon. It's one thing if you've got a brain thingy telling you there's danger right now, get out!, but another when it's built up more like a detective novel."

"Do you think there's something more to uncover?" Peter wonders, worried he's opened a can of worms.

Shrugging, Johnny taps his heel against the side of the building and gestures around the sprawling city beneath them. "There's always a bigger story in this city and with the lives we lead. Let's see how it goes. I know, so my family will also know. If you're in trouble, contact us."

Peter goes home with a lighter heart and when his Spider sense tugs at his mind the moment he sees his wife on the couch, their baby cradled in her arms, he ignores it for the time being. Johnny is right, he needs to stay steady and figure this thing out. It's probably nothing anyway.

~~

MJ pops in and out of town, cameras following her every time she goes to get coffee and eventually he cannot hold himself back. It's easy to learn where she'll be and when he steps into the small cafe, their eyes find each other immediately.

She cringes.

The man next to her, the husband or fiance, he doesn't know nor care, has his nose in his phone and doesn't notice MJ's reaction. Peter gets coffee, sits down the opposite end of the store from the couple and tries to make it seem like he didn't end up here on purpose. The chatter of customers seems so much louder than it should and Peter misses the moment MJ walks over to him. Looking up, he is struck by the deep red of her neatly coiffed hair. Once, he'd been the man to run his fingers through them, wrapping them around his digits and letting the strands slide away, only to do it all over again.

"Hey, Tiger."

God, he's missed being called that. "Hey, pretty lady. How's Hollywood treating ya?"

The corner of her mouth lifts and he admires the spark in her eyes. "I got them by the balls, so I'm doing fine. If they'd get me some actual good roles as well, I'd be even more pleased. Some days I feel like a product placement rather than an artist."

"You'll make it work, you always do."

"Not with everything."

He lowers his head, ashamed of how he'd acted when MJ had learned of the affair. He'd broken her heart and been so damn selfish. It had been easy to ignore then, when Sarah was so warm in his bed and the newness of his relationship made everything sing in tune to Gwen's name. But they have a child now and there are too many unanswered questions Peter still needs to know. But perhaps, now that she is here, MJ can help.

"Hey," he looks at her again, hoping she has forgiven him enough to agree, "do you want to come to my place for dinner tonight? You and your husband. It'd be nice to catch up."

She looks over her shoulder at the man she came with and stares at him for a while. He doesn't notice, still stuck to his phone's screen and a long sigh leaves her mouth. "You know what? Sure, we'll come."

Hours later he opens the door to the couple and his heart skips a beat at the sight of her. She's not wearing anything special and her make-up is the same as before, but something about her natural ease and charisma makes him regret every horrid thing he's ever done to her.

"Right on time!" He addresses her husband. "The name's Peter Parker, I'm the ex, but let's ignore the awkwardness of that tonight."

The other man laughs, too-white teeth sparkling in the light of the entryway. "That's fine by me. Eddie Carlyle, call me Ed. I'd say MJ has told me a lot about you, but well, that's not really true. But you're right, let bygones be bygones."

Sarah sneers when she sees MJ and holds Benji close to her chest. He hadn't told her they would be having guests as he wanted to catch her off-guard. It was a shitty thing to do, but he couldn't let this keep going on without uncovering more hints about the nature of his wife.

The doorbell rings again and she looks even more upset. "Are we having a party, Peter?" she spits, a red flush of anger on her skin.

"No, that's the last one," he answers and goes to open the door. He is greeted by the confused face of Gabriel Stacy who takes in the mood of the room and directs a questioning glance at his sister.

"I thought it'd be a nice get-together," Peter explains, "and I heard you were back in town. Hope you don't mind."

Gabriel shuffles his feet, but walks in and plops down on the couch. With Benji still in her arms, Sarah goes to get some drinks while Eddie goes over to chat with Gabriel (or rather, talk his ear off while the other man has his lips tightly pressed together). Taking MJ aside, Peter hopes she won't be upset with his plan.

"Hey, can you do me a favor? I know I don't deserve it, but I need your advice."

~~

They remind me of Harry, Tiger. I don't know what it is exactly and why, but something about them is so much like him.

That had been MJ's assessment when she'd called him the next day. She'd been a bit shaken and seemed unsure if she was making sense, but the conclusion was clear. It confirms Peter's suspicions of something being very off with the twins, but it adds another mystery to the equation.

Why is Gabriel stalking Normie? He still doesn't know and while Liz hasn't complained, Peter is aware Gabriel is still seeing them in some capacity. Is there more to the twins' oddities than the result of a neglected upbringing? And why does everyone seem to have an instinctive feeling of familiarity with them completely unrelated to just knowing who they are?

Does Harry have something to do with this somehow?

It is a cool summer's day when Peter goes to visit Harry's grave. Benji is now over a year old and holds on to his hand while toddling along the path to the gravestone. He's never been here before and stops often to point at a stone and babble the few words in his lexicon to his father. Peter kneels down to his level and reads the names to him, letting the boy trace the engravings. When they get to Harry's lot, Peter swallows hard - once, twice - and puts both of their hands on the cool surface of his stone.

"Heya, Har, long time no see." The words come out shaky, but he presses on. "I brought a guest, hope you don't mind. Say hi, Benji."

"Hi!" the boy chirps, waving at Harry's name. Peter has to turn away and collect himself. When he thinks he has his emotions under control again, he turns back.

"He's my son, Har. And he's also your nephew. Long story, I know you were probably never aware of having a sister. Well, and a brother too. Let me tell you, I can't decide if you'd be disgusted when you learned who their mother was or if you'd make jokes about your dad being a shameless slut, but either way we'd be drinking the night away.

Harry, I'm worried. There's something wrong with them and I don't know what it is. Gabe, your brother, does some weird things but it's nothing too dangerous I guess and Sarah just hangs around and takes care of the kid. Yet, I sense something waiting, just out of sight. Am I being overdramatic?"

A bird chirps in a nearby tree and Benji looks around, trying to find it. His golden hair is messy and Peter pats it down. There is no easy answer to be found, but at least he came to ask. It's wishful thinking, but he cannot help musing that Harry would know what to do.

~~

Norman in the skin of Carnage is a terrifying sight and he claws his hands deeper in the rubble, trying to find something to help him. That bastard, that lowlife, everything is his fault. He'd corrupted Normie, he'd taken Benji - and not once had Sarah tried to save him.

"He won't hurt him," she screams, "stop agitating him, you'll make it worse!"

"He has our son! I won't sit by and let him get away with this. I forgave him once and he repaid me by killing the woman I loved. Your mother!"

She wrings Benji's blanket she's been carrying around and refuses to back down. "It's not him, it's that symbiote making him do this."

"What a convenient excuse, he has a lot of those. The Goblin made me do it, I'm just a victim, now you have to forgive me. What a load of shit! Why aren't you worried about Benji, why are you protecting Norman?"

"He's me fa-"

"AND BENJI IS YOUR SON!" He's lost his temper completely. A memory of MJ crying after the loss of their daughter comes to him and he lets fury fill him. It's always like this - he loves someone and Norman comes to destroy them. Gwen, Ben Reilly, Harry...

His marriage to MJ.

The pain of truth is too much and he walks out on Sarah, hot tears burning his eyes. A flick of his wrist and he's off, swinging between buildings, gathering up speed and picking up Norman's track.

Was he ever truly happy with Sarah? She knows he sees her mother in her face and she is alright with it, even encourages him to hold on to that image. But it's wrong, he can't love Gwen like a husband should, she is dead and would never come back. It isn't right to pretend Sarah can fill that void he refuses to let heal. He suspects her of... something, he hardly spends time with her, happy to not have someone who keeps forcing him to also be Peter Parker and not just Spider-man and he adores the son she's given him, but despises her family.

Truthfully, he doesn't like Sarah that much. Because of her, he'd ruined a perfectly happy marriage and let himself be pulled into Osborn territory. They might carry the name Stacy, but he sees little of Gwen in the twins. Sarah has Norman's pettiness, his envy, his hatred and Gabriel is all of his father's antisocial behaviour, greed and insecurities. He can't blame anyone but himself for making this mistake, the second biggest of his life.

He comes home in the early morning, exhausted and dirty, but warmed by the toddler sleeping in his arms. Sarah isn't waiting for him and he can't find her anywhere. There is no note, no sign of anything being taken. He falls on the bed, Benji sleeping on peacefully next to him, and lets his mind go blank.

~~

For a year he hears nothing of the twins. Norman is cracked in the head - moreso than usual - and doesn't make any sense and when he gets better, Peter is in no hurry to go talk to him. He turns to Aunt May, humbled, but she has always been stronger than him and takes them in as though she's been expecting it.

"He reminds me of you when you were a toddler, Peter," she says, smiling at the little boy following letters in his storybook and trying to pronounce them out loud. "It's a lovely sight, I'm glad I can experience it again."

"Me too, May. I just wish I hadn't..." he can't finish his words, but May understands.

"I don't think she'll come back, Peter, and I know it will hurt, but I'm still going to say it - don't wait for her. You're a young man and there's so much more to experience, there's no point in wasting it on a woman like that." She takes his hand and her grip is firm. "Benji deserves better. Give him a better life."

She's completely right. His world slowly starts settling back in place and Benji stops crying after his mother. He still tugs at Peter's hand and asks if she's coming home soon, but it becomes rarer.

A good thing, because a new threat shows up.

He calls himself Kindred and Peter can't make heads nor tails of his powers. The centipedes crawling around his form are grotesquely gray and their pulsing makes him imagine the pus ready to burst out. His grin is too teethy, like the skin has been pulled back too much, and the bandages around his skin leave what hides underneath to the darkest corners of his imagination. He talks of sin and he has so much power over his other rogues, making them fear even mentioning his name.

He swings around town trying to find Kindred, but he always seems to surprise him first. MJ is in town again and he warns her of this new threat.

"Is it that bad?" she asks, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. She's working on a play and spending so much time in darkened theater halls makes her a prime target.

"I'm afraid so. Mostly, I don't know what his deal is. He's hiding himself from me and whenever he appears, he manages to slip away faster than I can react. That's cause for concern, I'm pretty fast already."

"Yeah, that's true." She taps at her side, thinking. "Y'know, I wonder..."

"What?"

"Well, is every villain scared of him or being manipulated? Even the former ones? Maybe there's someone he can't control. You could check why and work from there. It's at least something to start off with."

He grins. "What would I do without you?"

He notices far too well her sad smile when he leaves to do some reconnaissance.

After several weeks, he has to admit there's one person who seems oddly detached from what is going on and it's the last man he wants to talk to. But if he knows anything, Peter has to pull himself together and follow the lead.

"M'boy!"

For fuck's sake. "Norman. Feeling saner?"

Having been released from his most recent stint in prison, Norman is now working at Ravencroft and Peter can't comprehend why anyone would allow him to make judgements on the minds of the criminally insane. Have any of these people met Norman? Did they have the memory of goldfish?

A placid smile spreads Norman's lips. "Quite so. It's been liberating to be free again, doing actual work. Keeps the mind from going insane, wouldn't you agree?"

Peter snorts.

"But I am glad you came to see me, son. I presume you're here to talk about Sarah?"

Ah, another bang of guilt. "No. I don't think Sarah is ever coming back."

This sobers the older man and he seems almost sympathetic. Peter realises he doesn't know where his daughter is as well and they are on the same boat regarding her. "No, I don't think so. My son seems to be off somewhere as well, but they always were so very independent."

"Not by choice. They were very lonely children who had to grow up too fast."

Norman shuffles some loose notes on his desk and clicks something on his work computer. When he's done wrangling the guilt - if he even has any - he speaks again. "Why are you here then? I doubt it's about Benji, I understand rather well I'm probably not invited to see him again."

"You're right about that. But I'm here to ask about someone you might know. His name is Kindred and I want you to tell me all you've heard about him."

Norman goes completely still. "Kindred?"

Narrowing his eyes, he knows he's got something here. "Yes. Don't try to pretend this is the first time you've heard the name, your reaction speaks for itself."

Coughing, Norman swivels in his chair and reaches for a bottle of whiskey on the cabinet. The sound of liquid splashing into the glass fills the room, uncertain and off-beat. He's nervous. Was Peter mistaken? Has Kindred managed to spook old Stormin' Norman?

"I have some suspicions," Norman whispers, the words barely audible even in the quiet room, "but nothing concrete. Please, Peter, let it be. I don't have anything that might help you."

"But-"

"Leave, I have work to do. Search for your Kindred elsewhere."

There's no point in pressing the matter, so with a great deal of frustration he leaves. He's not back at square one, but he still doesn't have much to work with. He has to hope Kindred's next move will reveal more info.

~~

"Because you're not quite my Gwennie, are you?"

He hears the drip of lust in his voice, the sick perversion, and shudders. He is disgusting, always has been and he can't go on making excuses for him, saving his ungrateful, back-stabbing ass again and again. Gwen, the other Gwen from an alternative world, stands hard as steel and snaps back at Norman's lewd remarks. But she doesn't know the truth - Peter doesn't bother telling them about the mother of his son, what her relation to this world's Gwen is. They don't ask, though one day it will probably have to come out.

Norman doesn't relent and he sees red. The older man's smile is mocking and cruel, he knows exactly what he's doing. Bastard, bastard. Does it matter that this man is his child's grandfather? Does it matter when he's done nothing good for his boy, only giving him memories of grinning devil-faced figures?

The door opens and there is shock on Norman's face, but the Goblin replaces that with glee. It was bait, Peter knows it, and the Green Goblin would rather take his chances down there than with these Spider-people. Deluded, sick man.

Before they split, the other Gwen pulls him aside. "Peter, what did he mean by that?"

He feigns ignorance. "He does that all the time. I've learned to move on from Gwen's death, but he always finds a way to rip that wound wide open again."

"Not that. He was being gross about it, sure, but... He was coming on to me, wasn't he? Peter, did he and your Gwen-"

"Leave it," he snaps far too harshly. It also gives the answer away. "It doesn't matter, he's a piece of shit and doesn't deserve to even be in the same room as you. Ignore whatever he says." It's aggressive, bordering on rude, but his words get the message across and she doesn't protest.

The next time he sees Norman, he's different. There is such pronounced sadness in his eyes, a haunting pain, it is as though he's finally meeting the true Norman Osborn for the very first time. He stands awkwardly in the middle of his living room, staring at a model car Benji has left on the floor. Peter brings him coffee and they settle into a tense silence.

"Is Benji here?" Norman whispers, the words reflecting a deep weariness.

"He's with May, she wanted to take him to one of those kid-friendly science fairs."

"I think I read about that, yes. I hope he has a good time."

Several minutes pass before they speak again.

"Is your ex-wife doing well?"

"MJ's fine, she's practicing for a play."

"And her husband?"

"Filming some commercial. Said he'd send me whatever product it is they're trying to sell."

"You seem to get along."

He shrugs. "He's a nice enough guy and I don't want to be a dick ex-husband."

Norman's cup has been empty for a while, but he brings it to his lips anyway. "Have you heard from Sarah?"

Ah, the real reason he came. Poor Norman, sinless and alone, wondering if there is still time to make things right with the children he's ignored for so many years, raising them only for revenge. "No, nothing. I'd say I was worried, but I never did understand her and Gabe completely, though I do know they don't mind working incognito."

Norman nods. "Yes. They were always good at that."

He grows tired of this painful small talk that neither has ever particularly enjoyed. "Look, if you want to say something or make a point, do it. I'm not a friend you can bother whenever you're feeling sad. I'll never forgive you for your sins."

"Sins. Yes, that's the thing, isn't it. All our sins and faults, the things we've been too weak to resist. Mine are rather obvious, but what do you regret most, Peter?"

Damn pest. "You know what, no need to drag it out again."

The older man's grin is crooked. "See, I can't tell if you're talking about cheating on your first wife or killing dear Gwendolyn."

Eyes blazing, Peter jumps to his feet. "I tried to save her. They can rip all your sins away and make you believe you're a better man now, but her blood is on your hands."

"And yet, Kindred seems to blame us both."

He manages to stay standing, but his knees go weak. Kindred? "What do you mean? Have you been talking to him?"

Sitting stiffly, Norman nods. "I have. And I've... I've some things to tell you about him." He doesn't continue and his eyes - beaten, aghast - beg him to force the reveal out of him.

"Go on, I'm listening."

A sob leaves Norman's mouth and Peter stares at him in bewilderment. He's seen the man brought to tears, though usually in anger, but this seems more primal, raw. "It's Harry, it's my baby. I don't know how, but he's alive and he's that thing. Oh, it's all my fault, my sweet boy." Words fail him and Norman leans forward, hiding his tear-streaked face in his hands.

Harry? No, it's impossible. Harry who died in his arms, who looked at him one last time as the breath left his body, who in his last moments succeeded in destroying the legacy left by his father. But looking at the sobbing figure, he knows it isn't impossible. They live in an odd, odd world. Norman had survived an impalement through the heart, his younger children became adults twice as fast as normal human beings and a radioactive spider didn't kill a boy some 15 years ago, but gave him superpowers.

"Did you see his face, confirmed it's him?" he asks after Norman manages to calm down.

"Yes. Even before that, I knew. The things he said to me... Only he could've known that, only he could've experienced the same things, suffered the way he had. But Peter, I don't know for sure what he wants. He has all the criminals in this city under his thumb and I fear they'll do his bidding whether they like it or not. You aren't safe, no one in our families are. I'd contact Liz, but, you know. She needs to keep Normie safe, you need to protect Benji. I am afraid things are going to get very ugly."

Peter agrees and a shudder goes through him. Beads of sweat form on his forehead and the room feels oddly cold. Dreams of death, of not being able to protect Benji, May and MJ come back to him and he knows Norman's assessment is true - something bad will happen and they aren't prepared.

~~

He's beaten and torn open, his soul hanging on by a thread. Another fist comes his way and he barely has the strength to avoid it. Doing so makes him miss the tentacle and he drips over it, the hard stone floor familiar and cracked from the last time.

"What's the matter, Pete, can't take it anymore?"

"Thought you were a tough guy, Parker, but you're going down pretty easy there! Should we try and be gentler, sis?"

"Oh no, absolutely not! Peter can handle it, can't you? Otherwise it'd be dear Mary Jane at our mercy and you wouldn't like that."

Leave her out of this! She doesn't deserve to be dragged into this mess, this isn't her fault. His mouth is bleeding and he lets it drip on the inside of his mask. There's really no point in wearing it anymore, not when everything has been laid bare. Movement in the corner catches his eye and he sees Norman, on his knees, begging.

"Please, listen to me! I am still your father, it doesn't matter how you were made. I love you, I haven't been good at showing it, but I love you both and I want to help you. You sent Sin Eater after me, you knew he'd take the Goblin away from me, but you must've known I'd want my children back. And I do, I want you both home with me. Please, stop this!"

He hears Gabriel scream incoherently and Sarah's sharp voice harsher than a whip. "You never wanted us, you thought we were a mistake, the result of a shameful act you had to hide! Now that you know the truth, deep down you are pleased in the knowledge you never sullied yourself with that girl, never had a moment of weakness. But you are weak, Norman, always have been!"

He knows what happened and he can't even feel any satisfaction. This was Harry's doing, he had done unspeakble things... What has gone so wrong, who can he blame?

A forgotten sensation - the cold fist around his heart, squeezing just enough to catch his attention. He raises his head in confusion and sees the figure lounge on what used to be part of the wall, now toppled over and in pieces. Everything around him fades away, the sounds of Osborn pleas and Stacy screams muffled until they too are replaced by the steady ringing of silence. It feels surreal, like in a dream, as does the thing in front of him.

"Peter... How nice of you to finally notice me. But then again, it was how I planned it." The smile is sharp and the eyes inhuman. His skin shines under the swinging lights and he finds the sickly tone of red disturbing. The form is human but that's where it ends. The reaction he elicits is enough to make him want to run away and forget everything that has happened and will happen. He struggles to open his mouth, knowing not whether to talk or to scream.

"Mephisto? You're involved with this?"

"Naturally." His smile grows wider. "I am absolutely delighted all of you have finally ended up here today. It took a lot of planning and a lot of pieces falling into place. Not an easy task or one where you can be sure your plans will be realised uninterrupted."

He can't move, but it doesn't matter. There is nothing he can do. "I don't understand. Did you help Sarah and Gabe? Did you turn them into Kindred?"

Mephisto waves his hand dismissively. "Oh, in a sense. But I don't go around telling people what to do, there's no fun in that. It's much better to see the folly and sin of humanity, watch as they fall prey to their insecurities and impulsive thoughts. Like your dear friend Harry."

His heart is still cold and the fist around it tight, but it jumps hearing that name. "Oh, God, Harry... What did you do?"

"Me?" Mephisto pretends to be insulted, though his smile never falters. "I did nothing. Well, nothing much. But imagine the days and weeks after his father's apparent death. He knows the truth - Norman Osborn was the Green Goblin, he killed his best friend and now he is also dead. He never says it aloud, but there is so much hate and self-loathing in his mind. If only he hadn't taken drugs, if only he had been a good son, a son his dad could be proud of. This never could've happened. Eventually he manages to blame the right person - his father - and in that brief period, before his mind changes again, he sets in motion his plan. He's heard ever increasing stories of villains and heroes alike coming back from the dead, his father might be one of them. Why not? And what better way to surprise dear old dad than to give him what he's always wanted - children he could be proud of.

Using Gwen Stacy was a funny thing, wasn't it? It would hurt you, to see her daughter with Osborn blood running through her veins. And when Norman came back, he'd present the children and gloat in victory when they turned on him, made him feel as small as his father had made him. Alas, not everything went quite as smoothly, did it? Harry regretted his actions as the second Goblin, he repented. No matter, he would come to me. Do you know why?"

"No," Peter begs. He doesn't want to hear more, doesn't want his family mixed up in this. "Please, no more. Let me go."

"Norman had always been weak and I took advantage of that. His son for the future of his company. What a steal! Harry was mine and I could sit back and see everything laid out in front of me, all the fallen pieces coming to me. The twins he'd made were defective, aged quickly and died, but I made sure there'd always be more. Every time they died and came to me, I'd have more of their souls chipped away and replaced by all the rage Harry Osborn still felt. They were supposed to die soon after you met, did you know what? But you shared your blood with her and he got a boost from the Goblin formula so they were saved for a few more years."

"But she came to me, she loved me. That couldn't have been part of anything, she did that on her own." Mephisto smirks at that and Peter suddenly realises whose hand has been holding his heart this entire time. "No, no. It wasn't you, this wasn't planned!"

"She liked you," the red beast purrs, "did you know Harry liked you too? It was the only way you could be together and it helped that all parties involved were willing to play their parts. Sarah had you and Harry had you. And when your son came, why, I felt like a proud grandfather!"

At the mention of Benji, he gasps. Please, not his boy, not his baby. "You want him for something."

"Indeed. Though, it's more accurate to say I needed him to be someone else."

Someone else? What? "I don't understand."

"And you don't have to. Be happy in the knowledge you have played your part right and made me very delighted. My eternal gratitude, Peter Parker, is yours."

"I am going to save them," he hisses. They are going to kill him or they are going to have to be killed, but he won't allow it. She is still his wife, he is his brother-in-law, his son's uncle. He'd taken Ben into his heart as a brother and he will embrace the twins as human beings with their own souls and personalities. Clones or not, they deserve better than to be manipulated and played with. "We'll stop you, I promise. You won't get away with this."

Mephisto rests his hands on his knees and leans forward. A deep chuckle leaves his throat. "Too late for that, they've completed their task and are of no use to me anymore. Observe your defeat, Peter, and farewell. We will meet again, but at the end of your time."

The sound hits him first. A wailing of sorrow, of loss, and he knows what has happened even before he turns around. Evey muscle in his body aches when he shuffles on the floor, legs too weak to carry him. A pale hand blocks his vision and he stares at it. Following the arm, he looks at MJ, her eyes shining with unshed tears, but the steeliness of her face injects him with enough power to take her offered hand and help himself up. He doesn't tell her how she has always been the one to make him feel the strongest. It's too late for that now.

He mutters a silent thank you before limping to the three figures on the ground. Norman has his son cradled in his arms and is rocking him. Thick tears fall down his face and for the first time Peter truly believes the man knows the meaning of loss. Gabriel has his mask off and he is taken aback by the cracking of his skin, flakes falling off to reveal something grey underneath. He looks at his father with unseeing eyes, but his grip is strong on Norman's bicep. Soft words leave his mouth - Daddy, daddy - but he doesn't seem to react to anything else. Ben's face comes to him, but he holds back the urge to rip Gabriel out of the hands of his undeserving father.

Sarah lies next to them, her hand resting on Norman's thigh, fingers clutching at the fabric. When Peter falls next to her, she turns her head and he can see it causes her pain to do so. "Hey," she croaks out. Her face is in the same state as her brother's, but she is still so very beautiful.

"Hey," he whispers back and wraps his arms around her. "Are you in pain?"

"A little bit. I've had worse."

He shakes his head. "You shouldn't have to suffer. I would never want that for you."

Her smile is weak and flakes of skin fall off her cheeks. "You are a good man, Peter. Better than any of us."

"I know what happened. With you and Harry and Mephisto. I have to ask, are you Sarah? Or is it Harry?"

A small huff leaves her mouth. She snuggles closer to his chest, as though hoping it would allow her to fall asleep and wake again tomorrow. "Sarah. But yes, also Harry. It's hard to explain and I'm not sure I even understand it myself." Her eyes flicker towards her twin and she draws a shaky breath. "Y'know, I kinda wish it was just me. He doesn't deserve this, he only wants our father to love him, accept him as a son."

Norman hears this and cradles the dying Gabriel tighter, frantic words of comfort leaving his mouth - I do love you, you are my son, you have always been my boy - while Peter feels sympathy towards that sad, lonely boy. Another one he could not help, another death to mourn.

"Peter," he turns back to his wife, "there was nothing you could've done. I think this was always beyond your control and I don't want you to blame yourself. I love you. I say this as Sarah, though also as Harry, and I want you to move on. I will always be grateful we could spend those short years together. It wasn't enough, not nearly, but it wasn't all bad, was it?"

"No," he sobs, "not all bad."

"There we have it. And out of it all we made Benji, our beautiful son. I want you to cherish him and teach him to be a good man. There isn't a better person in this world to do so."

"I will. I promise. And this is for your too, Gabriel," the man in Norman's arms doesn't react, but he hopes he can still hear him, "your mother... She would've loved you. Gwen would've been so proud to be your mother."

Sarah has no strength left, her whole body slumping against him, but to his satisfaction he can feel her small smile against his neck. "Th-that's good to..." She trails off and the only sound heard is the chorus of two men crying.

~~

Aunt May takes him in her arms and holds him like a babe. "Mary Jane told me everything. Oh, my dear boy, I'm so sorry."

He is tired. He doesn't want to talk, doesn't want to think. The sweet, familiar comfort of his aunt's arms do enough to hold back the panic attack threatening to wreck him, but he's so over everything. A strong smell of cinnamon overtakes his senses and he imagines the scene that must've taken place earlier - Benji with his hands sticky with batter, laughing as May tried to be stern with him only to break her facade and ruffle his blond hair, showing him how to make a treat out of the sweet mess on his hands.

His son, her son.

"Is Benji still awake?" he asks, the words barely louder than a murmur.

"He should be, but it's not a guarantee. Wake him up, don't worry about that. You need him right now and he'll forgive you."

Dragging himself across the room, throwing the tattered suit on the floor and not caring if he's being messy, he slowly opens the door to Benji's bedroom and waits.

"Dada?"

He smiles, but it is forced. "Heya, kiddo. Sorry I woke you up."

"I was up, daddy! Auntie May and I made cookies and they were so good and we left you some too, I didn't eat 'em all!"

He chuckles with a bit more conviction now and walks over to his bed. Laying down next to him and taking the boy in his arms, he tries not to break down when Benji puts his chubby little arms around his neck.

"Hey, Benji. Do you remember mama?" He was still so little. Did he remember the woman who had fed him, who cuddled and cared for him, loved him despite her soul being ripped apart by forces stronger than them?

Benji looks at him eyes that seem so old. "Yeah. Is mama comin' home?"

His lip wobbles and he sees her again, dust and bones in a bile of clothes. All that was left of his bride, the mother of this child. "No, I'm sorry she won't. She's in another place now, where people go when they must leave us. When you're a bit older, we'll talk about it more, but she is in a bette-" He stops. Because he doesn't want to lie, either to himself or to his son. Sarah is trapped, her soul at the mercy of a demonic figure, and there was nothing anyone can do to save her. She would never feel the grace of God, of salvation, would never have the chance to look at her sins in the face and repent. Peter wasn't too religious, but he'd been traumatized too much tonight and couldn't cope any other way.

"Son," he says, cuddling him tightly, hoping to ward off the images of brimstone, "I want you to know she loved you so much and she never wanted to leave you. She was pulled in a direction beyond her control and there was no way to let go. She'd want to be here, with you and me. She'd want uncle Gabe here, your grandpa and other uncle as well. When you're older, you'll understand why it doesn't make me that happy, but it was all she wanted."

Benji nods solemly. What he understands of his father's anguish is questionable, but it helps Peter. "Okay, daddy. I love her too and we'll see mama again one day, right?"

"Yeah. But many, many years from now. Don't go waiting for it now though, we have to live on."

"We will, daddy. Read me a story?"

He wants to swing across the city, scream into the heavens, beg for MJ's forgiveness, beat the shit out of Norman, hug him to him, go to the bridge and hope Gwen comes and tells him what to do, he wants his uncle to wrap his arm around his shoulders and say the right words, the ones he can follow.

None of those would do anything. He is Peter Parker and he doesn't have it easy. He will rest for a short while and decide afterwards what to do - with Norman and learning if Mephisto was right, with MJ and discussing his failure as a husband, with the faint hope he tries to squash of someone, anyone magical or mystical knowing how to give him one last chance to make things right. But right now, he has to focus on his son. Reaching for a book, he settles down next to Benji and clears his throat.

"Chapter 1. Long ago, there lived a terrible demon..."