Chapter Text
Sally is in the hospital for three weeks.
Recovery is a slow, painful thing— the doctors and nurses that rotate in and out constantly telling her to rest while they repeatedly come in and disrupt the very thing.
“You may find that things are difficult at first,” one such doctor says in a final check up, so young looking that Sally’s not unconvinced she isn’t their first patient. “There’ll be some confusion, dizziness, memory loss, vertigo—“
“Are there any meds she can take?” Paul interrupts, a steady hand in hers as the doctor nods. Sally wishes she could remember their name but they all blur together– memories, feelings, names, faces.
Sally blinks a few times to refocus, the dull ache of a headache still throbbing at the nape of her neck as they continue.
“We’ll be giving her a prescription for the pain, something to help her sleep. What she’ll really need is rest,” they say, a kind smile on their face that makes Sally feel even worse. “No more chasing after any caped crusaders, alright?”
A coldness washes over her at the attempt of a joke, glaring at them with Paul equally silent— the doctor seemingly realizing that they have crossed a line.
The cops had come by the hospital to ask what she was doing there– her connection with Spider-Man, with May Parker, what she knew of his whereabouts– but Sally had refused to say a word, Matt Murdock finding his way into her room and dismissing them out of hand for “antagonizing his client” or something equally short.
Sally had been grateful, for the interference but also for the relief of not having to answer their questions– the memory of seeing the light behind May’s eyes still too much for her just as the thought of asking their questions was.
May had always had a soft spot for the superhero, in her work with FEAST and in caring for him– something that Sally had wholeheartedly agreed with in the years since. Her mind feels cloudy though, memories and words distant and slurring together as she tries to piece together answers to questions she has. Why were they there, to help Spider-Man with their villains? Why would May put herself in front of–
Of course May would, that’s who May is– or was– brought back solidly to the present moment and with the patience she doesn’t have in hearing her doctor stumble over an apology as she asks, “anything else?”
They open then close their mouth, looking rightfully shamed before saying, “no, that should be about it.”
Good, Sally thinks but doesn’t say. The sooner she’s out of this place, the better.
She has a memorial service to get to.
Sally missed the funeral.
It devastated her to find out, Paul holding onto her in the hospital as she sobbed into his shoulder— rocking back and forth as she mourned her best friend and more, mourned that last chance to say goodbye.
Her memory of that night is fuzzy and unclear, a symptom of the concussion so she was told but there’s one thing she can recall with perfect clarity was seeing the light behind May’s eyes fade as Spider-Man had cried— Sally holding onto May and closing her eyes as tears had filled her own vision.
What she hadn’t known at the time was that Happy Hogan had also been there, yelling for Spider-Man and for May— Happy being the one to have called Matt Murdock in the first place to help arrange their release.
It’s Happy who had paid for the funeral and the headstone, quick work that had surprised Sally until she remembered who he had worked for.
It’s Happy that she’s drawn to at FEAST the first day she’s able to make it there— Paul hovering close with Estelle in his other arm.
“Are you sure—“
“I’m fine,” Sally says as she makes a bee line to Happy, watching as his eyes light up in recognition— an immediate sadness as he presses his lips together.
“Sally.”
“Hi,” she says as he leans into a hug, Happy hugging her gently before leaning back.
“How you holding up?” He asks, the kind of question that would seem silly coming from anyone else but feels right from him– now that she knows that he too was involved during that awful night. Sally thinks back to May’s laughter when she first mentioned that she was spending time with him, just as easily as she can remember the mention of wanting to break it off– a hazy like quality to the rest of her memories that if she thinks too much on it, causes her vision to blur.
She misses May so much that it hurts, like she’s missing a limb and overwhelmed with grief as she moves about her day.
The ache she feels physically serves almost as a comfort to the ache in her chest, nodding to him as Happy seems to understand.
“Me too,” he says softly, clearing his throat. “I uh, I wish you’d had the chance to come–”
“It’s okay,” she says, because this is something that she would unfailing appreciate about him– the love that he feels for May Parker so clear in his eyes that she can’t begrudge him of doing everything he could to make sure that she was laid to rest with dignity.
“I’m here now,” she says, bandaged and broken in more ways than one but here – in the place that the two of them had called home for years as Happy softly smiles, Paul next to her holding Estelle as he nods to him.
“Yes you are,” Happy says, looking between them. “Come on, I’ll take you to the front.”
She lets Happy guide the two of them towards the entrance of the courtyard for May’s memorial service, sees Annabeth directing something in the distance– someone shifting out of the corner of her eye as she turns.
Percy walks directly to her, an unreadable expression on her face that threatens to make her cry– immediately coming up to her and holding her tight.
“Hi mom,” he says into her neck and it takes all that she can not to cry yet again, to know that he’s safe and he’s okay despite having seen him many times in the weeks since that night.
Percy had been diligent in coming to the hospital, for Sally but for Annabeth too– desperate to know that Annabeth was okay with all the effort they had put into keeping Spider-Man, Ned and MJ safe.
As far as she knew, the latter two were just as torn up on hearing about May’s death– their desire to help seemingly motivating them to assist in whatever fix that Spider-Man had attempted to ensure that the problem of his villains was fixed.
A spell from Doctor Strange that sent them home and then a wave ride back had seemingly been the end of it, though something felt off – something that Sally couldn’t put into words and yet could see very easily was something that Percy shared, him saying as much when visiting her in the hospital that last time.
“Something’s missing,” he’d said, thoughtful and quiet. Sally hadn’t known what to say then, just as she doesn’t know what to say now– Percy leaning back and looking as if something was just on the tip of his tongue.
Sally brings a hand to his face, watching as Percy relaxes into her touch– neither of them needing to share words for what the magnitude of what they lost to be between them.
May Parker had been a part of Percy’s life since he was twelve years old, a second mother and Sally’s trusted friend– bonding over what it was like to live and work in the city despite numerous losses, helping her through the unimaginable grief of thinking Percy was missing or dead twice over and sticking together during the Blip when May had believed that Spider-Man was also gone.
May’s care for the superhero, even now to the point of dying to save him, all fit perfectly with the woman that she knew– that spent all her time at FEAST in the wake of her husband’s murder and had committed her life to helping the people who came into FEAST looking for something different. She knew this, she understood it yet Sally couldn’t escape the feeling in the pit of her stomach– a sinking feeling that she couldn’t escape of how she could try and live on with this loss despite everything that had happened before.
It didn’t make sense, none of it made sense and yet she couldn’t say that to Percy– not when he was looking at her as if he was trying to search for the same answers to questions they didn’t even know, Sally having learned via Annabeth of his own frustration that in the weeks after May’s death– Spider-Man had all but disappeared.
“He hasn’t checked in on MJ and Ned,” Annabeth had whispered, a few days after Sally had come in and Percy was playing with Estelle– Sally’s own question of where the superhero had been in the time since all answered now.
It didn’t take much for Sally to guess and assume how Spider-Man could’ve felt– everything that she knew about the hero in the years that he’d been active in New York speaking to the kind of person who saved civilians at personal cost to himself.
Despite Percy’s unspoken frustrations to her and Sally’s own questions, she could only imagine how it would feel to be in his shoes– knowing someone like May Parker and knowing that she’d died to save him .
It was a grief that Sally knows she will carry for the rest of her life. She can only assume that Spider-Man felt the same.
“Come on,” Sally says to Percy, running her thumb across her cheek before bringing her hand down, taking her hand into his as he gently squeezes.
Sally might not have been able to attend May’s funeral but it didn’t mean that she couldn’t still have the chance to say goodbye– surrounded by people who loved her in the place that she loved. She glances around to see how many people are there, how many loved May Parker in this place that they had made into a home before staring forward at the picture in the front– an ache in her chest at seeing May’s smiling face beaming back at her.
She holds on to Percy, Paul and Estelle beside her and tries as hard as she can to be grounded in the belief that this is what May would want for her.
This is what May would want them to do– despite how much Sally feels like there’s so much that she is missing.
Snow crunches under her feet as she walks forward, Percy’s arm intertwined with hers. Paul had taken Estelle home, Annabeth saying that she would go with them with a gentle smile on her face.
“I’ll be okay,” she’d told Percy who looked reluctant to leave her, Sally almost wanting to tell him that she could do this on her own when Percy had nodded.
“Love you,” he said, kissing her gently before moving so that he was by Sally’s side. “You ready?”
The determination on his face, solid and steady and so much like the little boy she raised had made any argument to the contrary disappear as she had nodded and they made their way out of FEAST.
It had been at Percy’s insistence that they took a cab to the cemetery rather than the subway, holding her up as he sat tensely beside her.
Are you okay? Felt trite when she knew that he was anything but, just as she was– now no longer being stared at or even attempting to hide her tears when they were finally alone. May Parker was gone , her oldest and best friend– buried in a grave plot across town that she hadn’t yet seen. The image of a headstone could hardly replace the image of May Parker’s face that night but she wondered if it could help– provide some sense of closure to this ever expanding gap in her chest that she isn’t sure will ever close.
May was dead and Sally had no idea how to deal with that– no idea of how she could even begin to comprehend what a life would be like without her as the two of them get closer and closer to her gravesite.
Percy is quiet, unnaturally so– lost to his thoughts, his memories, his grief that some part of Sally thinks that she should try and help him wade through.
She will, she thinks, she’ll try when she can first wrap her head around the reality of this – that May Parker was dead and that none of them had been able to stop it.
They walk together towards the gravesite in silence, only for Percy’s head to snap up the same time that Sally’s focuses– seeing the same time Percy does that there’s someone already there.
Happy had mentioned that people came by, something that warmed Sally’s heart to know of how loved that May Parker still is– visitors and mourners all coming by to pay their respects in the time that worked best for them.
May Parker had poured her life into the city of New York– had in a way given her life for it. Sally would give almost anything to have her friend back but at least this –this – was something she was grateful for.
May’s legacy wouldn’t end in a destroyed complex lobby. May would still live on, in all the lives she’s touched.
The person at her gravesite today is young, startling slightly when he looks up and sees the two of them.
They both walk forward, Sally watching as the young man in at her grave nods to the two of them quickly, stops to look at May’s headstone once more and whisper something before he leaves– walking in the opposite direction with his hands shoved into his pocket and a hood pulled over his head.
Sally’s eyes linger on him for a moment and then they’re back to the grave– thankful for Percy’s strong arms to hold on to as she stares at the final resting place of her oldest friend.
When you help someone, you help everyone.
Sally feels the sob in the back of her throat, words and feelings and thoughts all swirling together in a jumbled mess. She misses her so much that it hurts, every day waking up as if she was missing a limb or just missing something.
The two of them stand quietly together, Sally overwhelmed with the reality that her closest friend was buried six feet under when she finally looks to Percy– seeing that his eyes aren’t to May’s headstone but over to the left, still staring off into the distance as the young man who had just been there walks away.
“What is it?” Sally asks, Percy slowly shaking his head.
“I don’t know,” he says, in the same tone had before– a whisper of an almost dream in the back of her mind.
Sally looks back to May’s headstone and wonders if she should call out for him, knowing that May would want her to ensure that everyone felt safe and connected– even in the moments when they were most alone.
She can feel a headache forming, as if it often does now as she winces and rubs at her temple, Percy looking over to her.
“You okay?”
Sally nods, instantly regretting the action as she breathes through it– refusing to let her body fail her now in the time that she has to properly say goodbye to May– bringing her hand down and looking back to the headstone.
When you help someone, you help everyone she reads again and again, reads and thinks of May Parker’s life– thinks of May Parker’s last day as memories all swirl together in the back of her mind.
She can feel the way Percy looks back over to where the young man– a boy really– had walked towards, wonders without asking if was also thinking of May and what she would want.
Sally stares forward, the ever present cavernous pit of grief threatening to swallow her.
A gap that could never be filled, a piece of her whole life missing now as she stares and she waits– thinks of May Parker and everything she was to her, everything she is.
There were few things in this world that she wouldn’t do for May Parker, even now, even still – having to watch as she had put herself in front of a supervillain to save Spider-Man, to save a superhero, to save…
There’s a throbbing in the back of her eyes, Sally wincing as she breathes and closes her eyes– slowly opening them as her vision clears.
When you help someone, you help everyone sits with her now less as a reminder and more of a calling– the push to help someone so intense that it’s as if she could taste it, blinking a few times as she begins to See more clearly.
In her mind’s eye she Sees May, her smile and her laugh, Sees all the different ways they’ve been together all these years–
She sees Thanksgiving and Christmases, holidays and birthday parties– Sees moments at FEAST during the Blip and beyond.
Sally Sees May so much in her memories and something… else. Someone, just there, on the tip of her tongue.
When you help someone, you help everyone Sally reads and she can feel it, a vague pull in the pit of her stomach growing stronger and stronger.
“Mom, do you think…” Percy begins and then trails off, Sally staring at the words at the headstone as if she could hear May Parker speaking them back to her.
When you help someone, you help everyone .
Sally stares at the epitaph, Percy still holding onto her with the pull inside of her threatening to overwhelm her.
One breath to the next, Sally’s vision clears– Percy turning back to her.
“Mom?” He asks but Sally can’t hear it, staring at the headstone and seeing May Parker’s face– looking over to Spider-Man in her last moments, to Spider-Man, to Spider-Man –
“Mom,” Percy says again but Sally’s eyes are elsewhere, looking to her left and the boy walking away– a flood of memories washing over her and the strongest conviction she’s ever had that this is what May Parker would want from her as she turns and sees him– heart overwhelmed as she grips Percy’s hand tighter at the realization of what each of them had been missing.
When you help someone, you help everyone.
Sally breathes, then sobs– looking over to the boy walking away from them.
When you help someone, you help everyone.
Sally smiles, tears beginning to stream down her face as the missing puzzle piece finally snaps into place.
When you help someone, you help everyone.
A promise in life, and now in death— Sally takes a step towards him and commits to do just that.
Peter.
Sally stands in the water, waves lapping at her feet as she stares off into the horizon.
She can hear laughter behind her, turning to see Estelle happily playing in the sand with Paul beside her— watching as the two of the make a sand castle.
Annabeth is there, balancing her book on her stomach as she lays under the umbrella— hair wrapped up and away from her face. She glances up when she notices Sally staring, smiling at her over her sunglasses as Sally returns it— nodding before her eyes track over to her left once more.
She sees the two of them, sitting on the beach— Peter’s arms wrapped around his knees as Percy leans back— palms out behind him and feet laying forward, the two of them looking out into the ocean.
She can see their lips moving but with the wind, the water, their words are lost except between the two of them— something Sally couldn’t begrudge either of them for.
She catches Percy’s eye who holds her gaze for a beat and smiles, Sally turning her head so that she can look out over the horizon— watching as the sun begins to set.
She’d wondered if they would still take the trip up to Montauk when they were so close to Annabeth’s due date, but Annabeth had insisted— just as Percy had.
This was a plan they had made all those months ago— even if the person Sally had made those plans with wasn’t here to see them.
Sally looks out over to the ocean, bringing her cardigan tighter over her chest as she stares off to where the sun meets the sea.
There is an ache that she can feel in every part of that Sally knows— from life and experience— will never go away. She misses May so much that it’s as if she can’t breathe, going to send her texts only to stop when she remembers— her contact still being number one, her speed dial and the first person she thinks of for any news, good and bad.
It aches in a way that time would never heal, only lessen— the living, breathing reminder of May Parker being that of Peter just a few feet away from her, closing her eyes as she feels a soft breeze pass across her face.
Peter was adrift, lost in a wave of his own grief that had it not been for that moment— had it not been for May— Sally knows that he would’ve turned away from them and never looked back.
She knows it and accepts it, knows that Peter in his own grief and in his own heart was so much like May that he would do anything to keep the rest of them safe— even if it came at great personal cost to himself.
Sally knows Peter, just as she knew May Parker.
Sally Jackson refused to accept that.
She is the mother of a demigod, gifted with the Sight— fading every year and yet in this, burned bright, some lingering part of her wondering if this— in the final hour— was some small blessing from the gods.
Or maybe, she wonders, just one.
Waves crash against her feet, a faint smile on her face as she opens her eyes again— staring out into the ocean and thinking of the cosmos, of the life that she’s lived and she’s loved and of all the pain that she’s been forced to endure time and time again.
She’d endure every bit of it for the chance to meet May Parker again— thinking of that fateful day she was late to FEAST, hustling for a GED and for a degree she never used, gaining so much more as tears spring behind her eyes.
There’s a cosmic irony, she thinks— to have met May Parker while getting her GED and to now help Peter get his, an erased identity involving more than just records as she welcomed him in.
It was never a question to her or to Paul, where Peter would stay after that day— Peter being a part of her family in every sense of the world.
Tears stream down her cheeks, of the weight of the world that she could see every day on his shoulders— the hope and the connection of remeeting his friends paling still to the irrevocable loss she knows he’s faced.
Peter didn’t ask for the hand that he was dealt.
Sally, of all people, could understand.
She stares off into the distance, tears freely flowing and makes yet another promise to May Parker— to love him, to protect him, to keep him safe no matter what.
Sally misses May so much she can barely breathe, can barely think but she has to continue on— to ensure that she didn’t die in vain.
There’s few things in this world Sally wouldn’t do for May Parker.
In life and in death—
Sally makes a promise that she’ll never let go.