Capítulo 314: Chapter 232: After 2 weeks
July 10, 1997
Two weeks after the incident...
Mark Taylor walked with deliberate steps, the soft crunch of the grass beneath his feet the only sound breaking the stillness. He had returned to the place where they had last seen Michael Wilson, the exact spot where the blinding light had engulfed them all. The memory was still vivid—Michael, floating, radiant with power, his final smile before everything was washed away. It felt like a distant dream, yet the ache in Mark's chest reminded him that it was all too real.
As Mark approached, he spotted a familiar figure sitting quietly. Loe Halloway, who had been revived after the incident, was there, just as Mark had expected. The sight of his old friend, alive and breathing, brought a small, bittersweet smile to his face.
"Loe," Mark called softly, his voice gentle. "I knew you'd be here."
Loe turned to face him, his expression a mix of guilt and regret. "Mark, I..." His voice was low, as though he struggled to find the right words. The weight of everything that had happened clearly bore down on him, his shoulders hunched from the invisible burden.
Mark raised a hand, stopping him before he could say more. "Loe, you don't have to say it. We've told you—over and over—it wasn't your fault."
Loe's gaze dropped to the ground, his fists clenched tight as if he could squeeze the regret out of himself. "I know, but…" His voice cracked slightly. "If I hadn't taken that Power Stone… maybe none of this would've happened. Michael wouldn't have had to do what he did." His words hung in the air, thick with remorse.
Mark sighed softly and moved closer, placing a firm hand on Loe's shoulder. "Michael did this on his own terms," he said, his voice steady. "He made that decision because he wanted to. He wanted to save all of us—every universe."
He paused, letting those words sink in. "Peter told us the same thing. And Miguel O'Hara, that other Spider-Man from another universe, he confirmed it. Michael knew the risks, and he still chose to save us."
Loe trembled slightly under Mark's hand, the guilt in his heart still heavy despite Mark's reassurance. "But if I—"
"No, Loe." Mark interrupted firmly, his grip on Loe's shoulder tightening slightly, as if to anchor him in the present. "Michael didn't do this because of you. He did it because it's who he was. That's who Spider-Man is. He gave everything so we could all live, so every world could have a chance."
Loe took a shuddering breath, his eyes welling up with unshed tears. "I just... I wish I could have stopped him."
Mark looked at him for a moment, understanding his pain. They had all wished that, in some way, they could've changed the outcome, but deep down, Mark knew Michael wouldn't have listened. His determination, his selflessness—it was what made him a hero.
With a sigh, Mark turned his gaze upwards, staring at the bright blue sky above them. "The Spider Society's trying to bring him back," Mark said, his voice carrying a quiet hope. "They're not giving up, and neither should we. No," he added, his tone growing stronger. "He will be back. I'm sure of it."
Loe sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, the tears finally breaking free. He looked up at Mark, his voice trembling. "Yeah... he will." His words were filled with hope, but also deep sorrow.
Mark stood there, watching his friend crumble under the weight of emotions he had kept bottled up for days. Without hesitation, Mark pulled him into a firm embrace, patting him on the back. "He will, Loe," he whispered. "And when he does, we'll be here. Just like he was for us."
Loe let out a shaky breath, his body relaxing slightly in Mark's comforting hold. "I just… want to meet him...."
"We all do," Mark replied, pulling away to look his friend in the eyes. "But Michael's not really gone. Everything he did—the lives he saved, the people he inspired—it's all still here. He's still with us."
Loe nodded slowly, wiping the last of his tears away. His heart felt lighter, but the emptiness where Michael should've been still lingered.
"Well Like I said, Peter said the same thing," Mark added quietly. "Also Miguel O'Hara. They believe he'll come back."
Loe smiled faintly at that, finally looking away from the ground and towards the sky. "Then I'll wait. For as long as it takes."
The two stood in silence for a long while, the wind brushing through the trees around them. Somewhere, in the distance, the world was carrying on—people moving forward, alive and safe thanks to Michael's sacrifice. but in that moment, they both held onto something stronger—hope. The belief that somehow, Michael Wilson—the legendary Spider-Man—wasn't truly gone.
Suddenly, a voice broke through the somber moment. "Who wants some drinks?"
Mark and Loe both turned around, surprised by the familiar sound. Standing there with his trademark grin and a cooler in hand was Chris Hilton, one of their old friends from the early days.
Mark's face lit up in recognition. "Chris?"
Loe, though still emotional, couldn't help but crack a smile. "Talk about timing.." he muttered.
Chris walked up to them, his grin widening. "Well, well, look who's back to his usual sassiness.." he teased, shooting a glance at Loe.
Loe rolled his eyes but smirked. "Shut up, Chris."
Chris laughed and handed them both a drink. "Good to see some things haven't changed. Thought I'd find you two here, brooding."
Mark chuckled, shaking his head. "Same old Chris."
The tension in the air seemed to lighten with Chris's presence, and for a moment, it felt like old times—before the chaos, before the loss.
..................
Meanwhile, Peter Parker walked slowly toward the house of Michael Wilson, feeling the weight of his new mantle. He was no longer Spider-Man Red—now, he was Spider-Man, but it didn't feel right. Peter couldn't accept it, not yet. Accepting it would mean accepting that Michael was gone, and he wasn't ready to face that.
As the door creaked open, Mary Rose Wilson, Michael's widow, greeted Peter. Her face was tired, grief still etched in her features, though she managed a small, welcoming smile. Peter could see that she had been through more pain than most could bear, yet she stood there, holding herself together.
"Um, Sis Mary, I uh..." Peter stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Mary noticed his hesitation. She opened the door wider and motioned for him to come in. "Come in, Pete." Her tone was gentle, understanding that he was struggling with something.
Peter stepped inside and looked around. The house felt heavier without Michael's presence. His eyes caught a glimpse of Marsel Rose Wilson, Michael and Mary's infant daughter, lying in her crib, gurgling innocently, unaware of the great loss in her family. Seeing her made Peter's chest tighten. Marsel would grow up without her father, and it filled Peter with a deep sense of guilt. He felt like he needed to be strong for them, but he wasn't sure he could be.
Mary led Peter to the living room, where they both sat down. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken emotions. Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat, struggling to find the right words. He'd come here to talk, but now that he was face-to-face with Mary, the weight of his thoughts seemed too much to express.
"So, what brings you here?" Mary asked, breaking the silence. She had a calm, almost motherly tone, though Peter could see the sadness still lingering in her eyes.
Peter hesitated again, swallowing hard. His voice was shaky. "I... I don't know if I can handle being Spider-Man."
Mary's expression softened, but her eyes flickered with sorrow. She took a moment before responding, clearly thinking about Michael. It had only been a short time since his disappearance, and the grief was still raw for her. Yet, when she spoke, there was a quiet strength in her voice.
"He gave you the mantle of Spider-Man, Pete," Mary said, her words gentle but firm. "You are now The Spider-Man. You should trust yourself more, as he trusted in you."
Peter felt the weight of her words sink in. He looked down at his hands, feeling the responsibility that came with the title. "But... what if I'm not ready? What if I fail like I did before?" His voice cracked, the doubts he'd been carrying for so long finally spilling out.
Mary leaned forward slightly, her gaze never leaving Peter's. "You won't fail, Pete," she said softly. "Michael saw something in you—something strong. That's why he chose you. You just need to believe in that, Pete."
Peter's hands clenched into fists as he stared at the floor. He wanted to believe her, but the burden of living up to Michael's legacy seemed impossible. Michael had been more than just a mentor to him—he was the hero, the one everyone believed in. How could Peter possibly fill those shoes?
"I don't know if I'm that strong." Peter muttered, his voice barely audible.
Mary's eyes filled with compassion. "Pete, strength isn't about never being afraid or never doubting yourself. It's about continuing, even when you do. Michael knew that, and he believed in you for a reason."
Peter's mind raced with memories of his time training under Michael. The battles, the lessons, the moments where Michael had pushed him to be better. Every time Peter had thought he couldn't go on, Michael had been there, urging him forward. Now, Michael was gone, and Peter was left to carry the torch alone.
"But what if I can't do it?" Peter whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of his emotions. "What if I can't live up to him?"
Mary reached out, placing a comforting hand on Peter's. "You don't have to be Michael, Pete. You just have to be you. That's what he wanted. You'll make your own path, your own Spider-Man. But you can't let the fear of failure stop you. Michael believed in you, and you need to believe in yourself."
Peter's throat tightened, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He hadn't cried since Michael's disappearance—he hadn't allowed himself to. But here, in this moment, with Mary's gentle encouragement, the weight of everything he'd been holding in began to crack his resolve.
Mary offered him a small, sad smile. "You're stronger than you think, Pete. Michael knew it. And I know it too."
Peter looked at her, his heart heavy, but something inside him shifted. He still wasn't sure if he could ever live up to Michael's legacy, but maybe—just maybe—he could try to live up to his own.
"Besides, you said it yourself," Mary continued, her voice steady. "Michael is still alive somewhere, and he'll be back."
Peter's throat tightened, and he tried to keep his emotions in check. "Sis..." he began, but he didn't know what else to say.
Mary's expression softened, her eyes full of quiet determination. "I'm going to hold onto that hope, Peter. I'm going to wait for him. I know he'll come back."
Peter smiled, nodding slowly. "Yeah, we'll wait for him. He'll be back. I'm sure of it."
There was a warmth in the room now, something that hadn't been there before. It wasn't just the faith that Michael would return; it was the shared bond between them. Michael had left behind more than just a legacy. He'd left behind family—people who believed in him and the world he helped protect.
Mary glanced over at her daughter, Marsel, who was peacefully asleep in her crib. Her face softened even more as she watched her baby, her love and pride clear. "Look how cute she is," Mary said with a smile. "Michael was so proud of her. Having her as his daughter meant the world to him."
Peter chuckled, the tension in his chest loosening as he thought back to those moments. "Yeah, I remember that. Every time we talked, he couldn't stop boasting about her." There was a fondness in Peter's voice as he recalled Michael's endless chatter about Marsel. It was as if she had been his light, a reason for him to keep going even when things were tough.
Mary chuckled too, shaking her head. "That's Michael for you. Always proud, always talking about the ones he loved."
The room felt lighter now, the weight of grief easing just a little as they shared memories of Michael. He was gone, but in a way, he was still with them—through his daughter, through the stories they held close, and through the hope they refused to let go of.
Peter stood up, feeling more grounded than he had in days. "Thank you, Sis. I needed this."
Mary smiled up at him, her eyes still carrying that quiet strength. "You're welcome, Pete. Remember, you're not alone in this. We'll face whatever comes next together as family."
Peter nodded, a new resolve forming inside him. "Yeah, together"
To be continue
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