Part Two: Spiral

                                    

                                          
The capsule cracked open easily, dumping a nice pile of white. Arranging the dust into a line, he readied his straw, and with a lengthy inhale, ran it down the line. The microscopic shards entered his lungs, tearing at his nasal passage on the way. 
He sat back.
Euphoria.
It hit him, making the world tilt. 
He could feel his eyes trying to roll back. It was like a tug-of-war and Peter was losing. His mind mellowed out, like waves calming after a storm, leaving the air quiet but static. Sound waves fused with light. The world was neon and loud, but gated behind a thin veil, making it feel distant. 
Muffled. 
Faded. 
. . . 
"So I helped a little boy get his balloon back this morning, but then his dad called me a murderer and threw his hot dog at me. Which kinda sucked, cause I have mustard on my suit, but also I caught the hot dog before it fell, so free meal I guess. It did have a bite taken out of it though." Peter sighed and let his weight pull him over until his shoulder and head rested against cold granite. His throat threatened to constrict. "I don't know, May, I don't know what I'm doing wrong. I just wanna help people. That's all I've ever wanted to do, but... but they hate me. I can't go anywhere in the city without hearing Jameson or people yelling at me from the streets. I just... I'm tired." Tears pricked his eyes. He turned his head to read the words he'd read a thousand times already. 
If you help someone, you help everyone
"What if I'm not helping anyone? What if... what if I'm just hurting them. I always make things worse, you know that, you never admitted it, but you knew it." He rolled his head and gazed out at the field of stones, some with flowers and gifts and others bare. He felt his eyes prick and a tear fell onto his cheek. "I miss you so much."
He bit his lip to stop it from quivering. His breathing shook as he sucked in a breath. His throat was suddenly sore and his eyes burned.
"I don't think I can do this anymore... I don't think I can keep fighting this, May. I tried. God, I tried so hard, because I know that's what you would've wanted me to do, but I'm tired. I'm so tired. May, I am so tired. I can't do this anymore. Please... please help me... I can't do this without you."
He couldn't breathe. It felt like his soul was shrivelling up. Everything hurt. His chest hurt.
He felt like he was dying.
Sudden need overwhelmed him, crashing into him like a tidal wave and he dove into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of powder. With shaky hands, scooped a small spoonful out of it and lined it up on the stone. Rolling up a bill, he ran it down the line of white. 
With a deep breath, he slumped against her. His mind relaxed, finally letting him breathe. The world pushed down on him. Cold dead shadows clawed up from the ground and wrapped around his limbs, pulling. It was as if the world was trying to put him in the ground. 
The worst part was, he hoped it would succeed. 
But it didn't. 
He felt gravity continuously pushing down on him, but he was already as far as he could go. He was already as close to her as he could get. 
The weight of the world was getting to him, a pressure that was so overwhelming, he had no choice but to bend to its will. So he let it take him. He was exhausted. He didn't have any more fight in him. 
His eyes drifted shut.
Everything was ok.
She was right here.