'I am falling in love with you,' he said. 'Between stolen kisses and whispered promises, I am falling in love with you.' -Jacorien Els

I am yours. If I died this moment, I am yours. Forget me. Forget me and love me again as you did the first time. Forget me and come back to me again. -James Joyce, from Exiles: A Play In Three Acts

Once Sam returned from Arizona, things were relatively drama free. Or, as drama free as high school could be. The rumor mill took a while to quiet down after their glitter prank, with accusations centering around Flash, of course. Luckily, the whole thing had kept Sam and Peter's sudden departure, and Peter's dance with Flash, from being part of the whispered conversations in the halls.

Despite his sudden, vocal, declaration that he was in love with Sam, Peter couldn't bring himself to say the words again. Even to himself. But, he was running out of time. Prom had been at the beginning of May, and it was already June. Graduation was just a week away, and he was short on time with Sam. Even though they had only been dating a few months, it felt like so much longer. After years of rivalry and friendship, Peter was desperately going to miss Sam as a friend just as much as a boyfriend.

Being able to confide in Danny was a double edged sword. He wanted to, knew he could trust his friend with his deepest fears. But, the more he told Danny, the more it felt like he was lying to Sam, even if it was just by omission. He opted to keep his conversations on the subject with Danny to a minimum.

It did prove useful to have someone who knew about their relationship. On movie nights with the group, Danny managed to get them seated close, but not suspiciously so. Usually it ended up with Peter or Sam on the couch, and the other seated on the floor in front of them. Close enough to touch, but not to accidentally snuggle together during one of the sappy romance movies. A tap of the foot there, a head against a leg, hidden by the darkness of the room, but it wasn't enough.

Flash even came to some of their group outings. The first time was a little awkward since he and Peter hadn't spoken much since prom. With a nod of approval from Sam, he took Flash aside while everyone else stood in line to purchase go-kart tickets.

"I- uh -never got a chance to thank you for covering. And to apologize for-"

"Bro. We're cool. Like you said, water under the bridge. It's not going to be the last time I'm turned down." He gave a self deprecating laugh.

"Hey, don't do that. You're going to find someone who likes you back." He gave Flash a tender smile. "And I'm still game for helping you with college. You're bound to meet some great people there!"

Flash returned his smile, "Thanks, Peter."

From then, they were alright. Peter returned to sitting with Luke and Flash a few times a week, but neither of them brought up their study sessions, a silent agreement to not be alone together. It wasn't until finals that Luke suggested a group study.

It was after one such session that Sam found him lingering outside the library for him. Peter was pacing, he couldn't stop himself. Warm hands on his shoulders pushed at him, urging him to be still.

"Peter. Hey."

Peter waited for himself to focus, then relaxed against Sam's touch. "Sorry."

"Hey, what happened?"

"I-" Everything had been fine. They studied, shared some stories, and cracked some jokes. Then, Peter was reminded of just how messed up his life had become.

"Peter!" Sam pushed him back into the empty classroom. "Talk to me."

They were fine, joking, having fun. Then, Peter slipped, said something too funny, too punny. And Flash caught it, called him out 'Ha, Parker does have a sense of humor'. It was getting harder to keep himself separate- to keep Spider-Man and Peter Parker from blending together.

"I hate it." He said it outloud before remembering Sam wasn't privy to his internal rambles. So, he clarified, "Being two different people."

Sam pushed him into a chair and pulled one in front of him for himself. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Me. Peter Parker: nerd, weak, insecure about everything." He threw his hands up. "Then, I put on the mask, and I'm confident, strong, funny."

"This is because of what Flash said?" Sam cocked his head to the side. "Pete, you're all of those things all of the time."

Peter closed his eyes, shutting out the confused eyes staring at him. "Going on patrol with you last night reminded me of how much I miss it. How much I miss being Spider-Man every day, every night."

A warm hand rested just above his knee. "You're not insecure. You're the best hero this city has- even if you're currently still technically on backup duty…"

He slumped forward. Sam couldn't understand. While he was Peter Parker, he was able to let his fears through, let himself worry, wonder if he was good enough. Was he good enough for Sam? He needed to push those fears aside when he wore the mask, needed to be strong, confident. So, he joked, poked fun and kept his head high. It always crashed back when he took it off, wondering if he did everything he could, if he did it the best way.

"Peter. You are strong."

"For a long time, I was the weak kid." It felt good to open up to Sam like this. "Bullied, pushed, always top of the class, and always losing. I lost family, and if it wasn't for M.J., I would have been alone in my grief at school. I couldn't do anything to stop the bullying, to stop the crushing weight of being helpless." He paused for a moment to pull Sam's hand into his. "Then, I got my powers. I was strong, but… I couldn't let people know. I couldn't let them see the change. So, I stayed weak as Peter Parker."

"And as Spider-Man…"

"As Spider-Man, I could grow. I could become who I wanted to be." He swallowed. "It wasn't until we became friends that I could be myself around someone without the mask. I slipped tonight, let Flash see."

"Well, for the record… I like all of it." He squeezed Peter's hand. "... Maybe you should stop pretending. Yes, when you're Spider-Man those insecurities can be in the way- but when you're not wearing the mask, be you. Don't keep falling into the same habits, into being weak." Sam leaned forward and slowly slid his lips over Peter's.

"Maybe college will help with that." Time would tell.

"Yea," Sam grinned, "and everyone can see you for the asshole you are."

"Thanks, jerk." He smiled at Sam, thankful he found someone he could trust enough to share this with. "Thank you. For letting me be me."

Sam crashed into him, sliding into his lap and wrapping his arms around his neck. His lips were on his briefly before trailing down his jaw. "You're perfect."

Another kiss, this one harder. Peter couldn't stop the sound it drew from him, a soft gasp that left him unsure of just what to do. Sam's hands were trailing down his chest as he moved his lips against Peter's, moving down, further, further, until one rested on his hip. The other played with the hem of his shirt, then a warm hand caressed his skin, fingers glided over his abs.

"Shit." His head fell back, breaking their kiss. He was enjoying it, no denying it - but, it didn't feel… right. "Sam…" Why. He pulled his eyebrows together. What was holding him back? Shit. Sam was leaving, he should be wanting everything.

The hands returned to his behind his neck. "Sorry. I-"

"Don't apologize Sam." He trailed a knuckle over Sam's cheek. "I'm the one who is sorry. For making you wait and-"

"I'm fine. Peter, I'm serious. Nothing you're not ready for." He kissed the tip of Peter's nose. "Do you want to talk?"

Peter shook his head. "I don't know. I- it just doesn't feel… I want to, I do- want to make out with you, feel you…"

"We'll get there." He kissed Peter's brow.

"But, you're leaving soon."

He could feel Sam slump against him, acknowledging the realness of their future. "How about we go beat up some muggers or something?"

"Fuck yes."

Peter bounced as he put on his cap and gown. Graduation. He wasn't sure which was more exciting, the actual graduating part- or meeting Sam's family. Okay, it was meeting Sam's family. There was a certain sort of validation which came from being liked by your boyfriend's mother- a validation he certainly craved. It was his one chance, they were only in town for two days. Which, while disappointingly short, would make it easier to sneak out to the food show he got Sam tickets for.

"Peter!" The shout was the only warning before MJ crashed into him, hugging him close. "So, this is it!"

"Yea." He tried to smile, he did. But, graduation meant Sam would be leaving soon.

"So, you are coming to the grad party tonight, right?"

Oh, yea… he forgot about that. "Um," he rubbed the back of his head, "I don't think so. I mean, I may, but, I wanted to hang out with Sam before he leaves, ya know?"

Her eyes softened as she patted his arm. "I got ya. Offer is still open, we'll be partying all night."

"Thanks." He knew he should go- they both should go. But, with his family only able to be in town for two days, Sam was eager to spend time with them. Plus, the last time they went to a party it hadn't ended well. Or it had. The jury was still out on that one.

"Oh! There's Harry! I'll see you in a bit!" MJ bounced off to the edge of the football field, giving Harry the same aggressive hug he had just received.

Peter grinned after her before walking back over to the bleachers where Aunt May was sitting. "So, this is it." He parroted MJ's earlier words.

"Oh, Peter." She pinched his cheek. "I'm so proud of you!"

It was a whirl of activity after that. MJ pulling him around for group photos, being ushered to their seats, the chaos of family wandering everywhere. He finally spotted Sam, or rather, was shoved into his side as MJ snapped another photo before whisking him away again. He lamented the lack of time to talk, but there would be plenty after.

Soon enough, they were called to take their seats. Sam was sitting in the front row of graduates, near Ava. Luke was behind them. Danny, Harry, and Flash where the closest to him, but still too far for him to easily talk to. Stupid alphabetical seating. Before he could try and get anyone's attention, Coulson was at the podium, reading some pre-written speech about blah or blah, Peter really didn't care. He was itching for it to be over, to be able to talk with Sam, to meet his mom and his sister.

The urge to wolf whistle as Sam walked across the stage was strong, but he held himself back. He searched out the cheers from the bleachers and spotted Carrie. She was sitting next to a lady and young girl. That must be Sam's mom and sister. He grinned, he couldn't wait to meet them.

Then, it was over. All the weeks of preparation, all the years of studying- and it was over. Part of him expected fireworks, or a villain attack. Something. He waved to his friends as he made his way back to Aunt May, basking in the proud smile she gave him as she pulled him close.

"Hey Parker." Sam's voice sounded from behind him and he pulled out of Aunt May's arms slightly to see him. His family stood near him, beaming just as Aunt May was.

"Hey."

"Um, uh," Sam pointed to his family. "This is my mom, Eva, and sister Kaelynn. You met Carrie. Um, Mom, this is Peter and his Aunt May."

Aunt May gushed, "So nice to meet you!"

"Likewise. Thank you, for being there for Sam. He's told me a lot about you."

While they chatted, Carried threw an arm across Sam's shoulders. "Never thought I'd see you in a cap 'n gown."

"Sh'ud up." He shrugged her arm off him.

"How have you been?" Peter hated small talk, but, it was better than silence. Better than pretending he didn't want to take Sam behind the bleachers and hold him close, maybe tie him to a post so he couldn't fly away. But, small talk had it's way of turning into something with more substance if given enough time, as proven by May and Eva who were comparing recipe notes.

Kae, who had been quiet until then, pulled at Peter's gown. "You live here… have you met Spider-Man?"

Peter glanced to Sam and Carrie, who only grinned and shrugged.

"Um, I've, uh, seen him."

"He's my favorite."

Peter stuck his tongue out at Sam, "Your sister has good tastes." He ruffled her hair. "Maybe you'll see him in action, hm?" Patrolling near their hotel shouldn't be a problem, not at all. "So, you guys want to grab dinner?"

Sam bit his lip. "We're going to have a family dinner. Carrie needs to catch her flight, so we're dropping her off at the airport in, like, an hour, then we have reservations."

"Oh." Sam needed his family, needed every moment he could get while they were in New York, every moment before he left. He shouldn't be angry, he knew, but the disappointment must have been evident on his face.

Sam shot him an apologetic look. "Hey, you could always go to MJ's party?"

"Yea…"

May and Eva rejoined them. Eva gave Peter a hug, "It was so nice to finally meet you. I'm sorry to run, but we need to take Carrie to the airport."

"It was nice meeting you too, Mrs. Alexander." On the tip of his tongue was 'I hope we get to spend more time together, maybe I could visit in Arizona?' but he bit it back.

Sam gave him another apologetic look before they were walking off. Peter sighed then turned to his Aunt, "I'm going to go meet up with Harry. I'll see you at home?"

"Of course, dear."

Before he could move, his arm was gripped by a small hand. Carrie. "Parker, a quick word?"

"Uhhh…"

"I told them I was running to the bathroom while Eva talked with Coulson." She let go of his arm. "Did you tell him?"

"Uhh…"

"Eloquent. So, no then? Not even just a 'hey, when you get back from your super secret space mission, we should totally hook up'? He's head over heels for you. Won't admit it, really, but everytime we talk, you're always on his mind."

"Sorry, I…" Why was it so hard? He'd been lying for months, one more wouldn't be that bad. "I love him, okay? But, he's leaving." More half truths, more half lies.

"Whatever. You two deserve each other." With a flip of her hair, she was stalking back towards the front of the building.

While he was disappointed he wasn't invited to dinner with Sam's family, he did understand. It hurt, he wouldn't deny it, but Sam deserved time with his family without worrying about Peter. Especially since he would be leaving soon. They hadn't talked about it in detail, he had no clue when Sam would announce he would be leaving - but, he did suspect it would be soon. He wasn't naive enough to expect to have the whole summer with Sam. When the guardians called, he would go. And Peter would wait.

He was desperately looking forward to their date in two days; his birthday gift to Sam would probably be their last real date until he returned. Sure, they could fly around the city, or play video games. But, they were too broke to really afford another dinner out- maybe he could convince Sam to cook for him? Yea, that sounded like a good plan. A lazy smile curled at the edges of his lips. They would just make the best of it.

For a brief moment, he contemplated going to Harry's party. Yet, he couldn't muster the strength to pull himself off his bed. He would have all summer to spend with his friends. And, even if Sam wasn't currently with him, he would rather text back and forth than spend his whole evening with MJ and Harry trying to set him up again.

Peter: How's dinner?
Sam: good
Peter: maybe we could get lunch tomorrow?
Sam: maybe…
Sam: hey… can I come over tonight?
Peter: sure. Window is unlocked
Sam: k

Peter wasn't sure what time to expect Sam, so he busied himself with various things: cleaning his webshooters, cleaning his room… cleaning under his fingernails. By midnight, the day caught up with him and he yawned, stretching out on his bed as the exhaustion and boredom washed over him. His eyes drifted closed for a moment until he heard a light tap at his window.

He glanced over, seeing Sam hovering just outside. With a wave of his arm, Peter motioned Sam to come in.

"I told you it was unlocked."

Sam sat his helmet on Peter's desk. "I didn't want to disturb you… you looked like you were ready to sleep."

Peter yawned again. "I am." He eyed Sam who looked every bit as exhausted as he himself felt. "When do you need to be back to your Mom?"

Sam shrugged. "Tomorrow for breakfast."

For a moment, Peter just watched Sam, taking in every plane, angle, and shadow on his face. Then, with a bite of his lip, he moved over on his bed and patted the space next to him. What was he doing? Just a few days ago he had pushed Sam away, now he was… what?

Sam blinked at him, his face beginning to flush. "Peter." The whisper sounded more like a hiss, and, for a few agonizing seconds, Peter thought he upset Sam, that it was the wrong thing to do- that he shouldn't be pushing their relationship this way. Then, slowly, Sam stiffly sat on the edge of the bed. "Peter, what…" He trailed off, his eyebrows knit together as he studied Peter's face.

What indeed. Peter licked his lips, finding his mouth was suddenly dry. Technically, he knew what to do, what he should want to do, knew he was attracted to Sam, and what that should mean. But it was trapped, deep in a fog, where he could catch glimpses, and when they did more than what was poking out of that thick fog it felt wrong. Sam was the only person he ever enjoyed kissing, but when he was around Sam, 'kissing' wasn't in the fog.

"Y-You're leaving soon, right?" He hated how weak his voice sounded.

Sam sighed and pulled his legs onto the bed, sliding closer to Peter. "I… If I could stay..." He closed his eyes, sucking in his bottom lip as he thought. "Peter, I don't want to hurt you like this." He laid his forehead on Peter's shoulder. "You deserve better."

Peter rolled so he was angled slightly over Sam. "Stop saying that." He leaned down, capturing Sam's lips, pressing his body closer. Having Sam in his bed did everything he was afraid it would all those months ago, a searing need coursed through him as he trailed his kiss from Sam's lips, across his jawline, and to his neck. But, while he felt it, he also didn't, just like everything else, that need was dampened by the fog, but he pushed forward. Before he could do more than place a light kiss on Sam's warm neck, he was pushed back by two strong hands on his shoulders. He blinked down at Sam, who looked like he was just as disappointed at the lack of contact as he was.

Peter started to lean back down, but Sam shook his head.

"You… we can't ."

He propped himself on his elbow, "I'm pretty sure we can."

It was met with another shake of Sam's head. "I- You're just- you're rushing." He ran a hand over his face. "I don't want us to rush." When he opened his eyes he saw the pained look on Peter's face. "I want to. Shit. Don't think I don't want to… you just... "

He was right, Peter knew. If they did… well, anything… he knew he wasn't ready, the slight shake of his hand was a dead give away. But- if not now, then when? He reached out and traced the back of his hand along Sam's jaw line, echoing the path his lips had traveled just moments before. "It's not rushing if we both want it, right?"

"Peter, no. Your first… it shouldn't be because I'm leaving soon. You're rushing, and you'll regret it." He leaned into Peter's touch.

"Sam. I-" Peter leaned forward to kiss Sam, but was met with a finger over his lips.

"Please. Don't." Sam closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. "I should go."

"No!" Peter wrapped an arm around Sam's waist.

"Peter. I'm in your bed. Next to you. If you kiss me again… I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to say no again."

"I didn't realise it meant so much to you…"

"How could it not? I don't want you to regret anything… I don't want your first time to be…" He trailed off, looking towards the window. Peter could see the wetness beginning to pool in his boyfriend's eyes, and shit, he felt like such a jerk.

He used the arm around Sam's waist to pull the other teen flush against his chest. "I'm sorry." He kissed the back of Sam's head. "I- I wanted to… before you left. Please, don't leave- stay here tonight?"

Sam's answer was to relax against him and intertwine his fingers in Peter's. This is what their 'next' was, spooning on the bed… as Peter began to drift off, he admitted to himself that his was better.

"Peter?"

"Hmmm."

"I'm sorry."

Peter nuzzled the back of Sam's neck before surrendering to the pull of sleep.

When he awoke the next morning, Sam was gone. His scent still lingered on the pillow, but the sheets had long since gone cold. He wondered what it would have been like to wake up with Sam still there, still in his arms. Everyday. Forever.

Peter yawned as he stretched. Yeah, he could easily see him and Sam, years down the road, snuggling together to ward off the cold morning air. The future was all he had to hold to.

After blinking the sleep from his eyes, Peter grabbed his phone. The time surprised him, it was nearly 11am. It had been so long since he slept so late, no wonder Sam was already gone. They hadn't made exact plans for lunch, but maybe they could still meet up. If not, well, they had tomorrow and their date to the food show.

He pulled up Sam's contact and hit 'call', then frowned when it went straight to voicemail. Had Sam's phone died? It was possible, he hadn't charged it the night before. Or, maybe he had flown to the moon again for some space and time to think. Before he could call Carrie and ask if she had heard from Sam, his SHIELD communicator went off, blinking red with a subtle, but shrill noise.

He raced to answer it. School was out for summer, maybe Fury was finally calling them back in. But, as soon as he answered it, he was greeted by Nova.

"Nova?" Suddenly much more awake, he began to grab for his spidey suit. "What's the situation?"

"Peter…." Sam sounded tired, like he hadn't slept in days despite having slept next to Peter the previous night. It wasn't like him to use names, so either he was in serious trouble, or was somewhere safe. He hoped it was the later.

Someone was talking behind Sam, "Hurry up, kid, we gotta go."

Sam cringed. "I'm sorry, Peter." He turned to address Rocket behind him. "Give me a few seconds."

No. No. Nononono. "Sam?" He cursed how weak his voice sounded. Seconds? Sam thought he could say goodbye in seconds? Unless… "This is just a short thing, right? You'll be back for our date tomorrow?"

"Take someone else, Peter. I left the tickets on your desk." His voice was a forced monotone which Peter saw right through.

"No." He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "You're not doing this over the com. Come back here." He couldn't see Sam's face- couldn't see if he was hurting just as bad. "Take off your helmet and tell me."

Sam shook his head. "Goodbye, Peter. I-I wanted to tell you last night…"

"You knew?" Peter sunk onto his mattress. "You led me… made me think I'd see you tomorrow. And you knew, this wasn't just a hurried pickup?"

"Peter. I'm sorry. I... Please, promise you'll move on. I don't know when I'll be home."

"Take off your helmet and say that." His words didn't have the bite he wanted them to. "You know I'm going to wait. I'll wait forever."

Sam growled. "We're done, Peter. I'm breaking up with you. If that's what it takes. There, clear. Move. On."

"N-no. I'll wait. We- we said we'd wait…" He ran the back of his hand over his eyes to clear his vision.

This wasn't happening. No goodbye kiss, no clutching at each other's shirts in an attempt to prevent the moment from ending. Peters throat was dry, coarse, as he tried to continue to talk, it felt as if Sam had reached through the com and choked him.

But he had to force the words through.

"Sam, I lo-"

"Don't!" Sam grit his teeth. "Please," his voice cracked. "You'll be happier without me holding you back."

Peter tried to swallow. "Was any of it real?" It was a low blow, but he had to know. Had to ask.

"Forget me."

It wasn't an answer, or was it? Peter wasn't sure of anything anymore. He banged his fist against his pillow, wishing it was something more solid, something he could dent.

"SAM! I LO-"

"Goodbye."

The feed went dark.

When he woke a few hours later, after having run out of tears- and probably oxygen- Peter wasn't sure what to do. What did he do now? He still couldn't believe Sam was gone. Had broken up with him -while probably thousands of miles away- and all Peter could feel was numbness. It permeated his whole being, rolled over his heart, encased his legs; the sensation was similar to drowning- and, wasn't that what he was doing? Drowning? Drowning in memories, replaying over and over like a slideshow in his mind, searching desperately for something solid, something he could hold close to his heart, to warm it, to free it from the icy grasp of his loneliness.

His searching was in vain. Nothing helped. All he saw in every memory was Sam laughing at him, knowing what their ending would be, knowing he was lying to Peter whenever they talked about the future. Every memory shifted, became something else- had Sam been playing with him? Had he just…

No.

No. Peter shook his head. Sam was many, many, things, but he wasn't cruel. And Peter had to believe it was real, even if Sam had held back, had lied to him. He took a steadying breath like Danny taught him, in-out, again and again, until he felt his legs being to thaw from the clutches of the numbness.

A knock at his door pulled him from his silent brooding. "Not now, Aunt May." His voice cracked, his throat still raw and dry. He threw his head into his hands, he needed to pull himself from this. It was always going to happen, Sam was always going to leave. The timing could have been better, Sam could have told him the night before, they could have…

"Peter?" It was Danny's soft voice which came from the doorway. "May I come in?"

Peter nodded, then, realizing Danny couldn't see it, "Y-Yeah."

"I thought you could use an ear. Or a shoulder" Danny sat on the edge of his bed and reached over to Peter, pulling him to him. "I am here if you wish to talk."

Yes. Yes, he did wish to talk. He told Danny of his conversation with Sam, how he lied, knew he was leaving, and still chose to do it so impersonally, like he was just asking someone to water his plants while he was gone. Retelling the tale not only helped him move out of the numbing effects of his sorrow, but it let a wave of raw rage wash over him. How little did he mean to Sam? How little had any of it meant? That he could just leave. Ditch him the day before their date...

"Peter. Please, focus your breathing."

His breaths had become sharp and ragged, and as he calmed his breathing, he also uncurled the fists he had not registered. "Danny… How do I... "

"Move on?" Danny pulled him closer. "I don't know." He rested his chin on Peter's shoulder. "One day at a time. It will come, it will get better."

He had his share of tragedy in his life, he knew how to cope, how to eventually get up everyday and have it not be the first thing you think about. Even if it was the second, it is still a small victory. His Parents- Ben- he always wondered how Aunt May managed to get up everyday after, managed to take care of Peter, be there for him. Maybe that was her way of coping, being there. He shook the thoughts away, they would only lead down a road he had been on too many times and he knew where it took him.

"We were going to a cooking show tomorrow. Um… You and Ava should go."

"Maybe you could take Aunt May?"

Peter leaned back against Danny. "No… I don't think I could get through it." He sighed. "Danny, he wants me to be with someone else. Move on. Not just with my everyday shit, but to fall for someone else."

"That will come with time, Peter."

"I said I'd wait. I intend to." He tuned in Danny's arms to give him a watery look. "I tried to tell him I love him. But he wouldn't let me say it. He doesn't know how much I-" He dropped his head to the side. "He is it, he's all I will ever want."

Danny rubbed soothing circles on his back. "Maybe, in time, that will change." Before Peter could tell him just where to stick that advice, he continued. "But, sometimes the universe is cruel, it sends us our soulmate at the wrong time. I do not know if there is a way to fix such a mix up, or if both parties are forever separated by cruel fate."

Peter snorted. "I'm supposed to blame -what? Fate?"

"If you need something to channel your emotions at, it is a good target. I have, on many occasions, used 'fate' as an emotional punching bag of sorts."

A smile snuck through, lighting his face. "I can't imagine you ever needing to." It was true- the monk was the embodiment of calm.

Danny only gave him a knowing, if sad, smile, and stood from the bed. "Please, join us for lunch. We're all missing Sam. Maybe hanging out and sharing stories will help."

"You sound like he died." Peter fell forward onto his blankets. "How did you guys know he left?"

"He told us this morning…" Danny bit his lip.

"..."

"Please, do not fault Sam for giving into his insecurities. I believe he would have had a hard time leaving if he said goodbye to you in person. In my opinion, he loves you too, though he wouldn't let himself say it, and he may have given up his mission to stay with you had he not left the way he did."

Peter cursed under his breath. Leave it to Danny to make him feel like an ass for being upset with Sam. "Even if that is true- I'm still…" What? Angry? No, he couldn't be; Sad, yes, a little… but…

"Still…?" Danny raised an eyebrow at him as he threw Peter a pair of jeans and a shirt.

Peter thought as he pulled on his clothes. "...Still in love with him."

He didn't miss the sad smile Danny sent his way, but followed him down the stairs, out of the house, and to a waiting cab. Peter paused before ducking into the car, angling his head up towards the bright blue sky. It had no right to look so happy, so cheerfully cloudless - so unaffected by the events of the day. Then, a thought struck him as he searched the vastness above: maybe Sam was looking towards Earth, looking at him. It was a comforting thought.

Even as they joined their friends at the cafe, Peter kept his eyes on the sky, hoping his gaze would somehow reach Sam, somehow comfort him. No matter how far away he was. And maybe, just maybe, Sam was doing the same.

~Fin

Thank you, all of you, for reading this fic, and for your support. Your words of encouragement helped push me through the harder days, and gave me inspiration. This is the longest fic I've seen to its end, and it's been a hell of an emotional roller-coaster.

I ended up cutting a lot out of the last few chapters for the sake of time. It was beginning to get pretty drawn out.

It is hard to believe it is over. Well, the first part anyway. I do have a follow up I'm working on, but I do not know when I'll have it ready. I want to have it 100% written before I post. While writing this I found there were too many things I wanted to go back and change, small details I wanted to add, or larger plot points I wish I could tweak.

I am a sucker for music, especially songs which set the mood for what I am reading or writing. While I was writing the last few chapters I had a shuffled station playing and found a few songs which helped pull at my heartstrings and set me in the mood to write the goodbye scene. Here's three of them:

'Since you and I Were True' by Maev

'Forget About the Blame' by Trans-Siberian Orchestra /

'High Enough' by Damn Yankees

A part of me always has trouble writing Peter as a teenager. To me, when he was younger he struggled a lot with finding himself and wasn't as self sure. There was more of a clear difference in his behavior when he was 'Peter Parker' vs when he was 'Spider-Man'. That line is blurred as he grows up and matures, as he becomes more confident. The divide is much clearer when you read/watch something side by side with him younger and him older. Part of it is the writers, but I think it's always been true, to an extent. I wanted to capture some of that young insecurity, have him acknowledge it, and confide in someone about it too. I did cut out some things, but may explore them later.

I also didn't get too in detail with my sexuality headcanon for this fic. Since they are teenagers, I was a little wary about turning it into an "E" rating, even though we all know teenagers are going to 'do the do'. So, I decided to make Pete be not just unsure of his sexuality, but maybe demisexual (as in, needing a stronger bond with someone to feel sexual attraction -is the short version). It's a headcanon I've had for a while, and finally had a fic to use it in. I left it somewhat ambiguous, so you could read it as him being shy/unsure, unwilling to trust, or demisexual. I had to pull from my own experiences a bit, and found it is harder to describe than I thought without just coming out and saying it. But, he's never been one to focus on his internal, so I doubt young Peter would have put much thought into what his lack of sexual desire really meant until he started to fall for Sam. Okay, end of that mini rant with TMI.

Thank you again, from the bottom of my heart. You guys rock. Seriously. This is the best fandom I've ever been a part of- and I've been writing fanfiction on and off for more years than I care to admit. Everyone here is so nice and welcoming. And even where there are disagreements, it's never 'nasty', never pointing fingers, never a witch hunt.

I love you guys so much.