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Losing May to cancer was a process, Peter decided.
It wasn’t just life to death, cancer tore you apart piece by piece taking as much or as little time as it wanted.
It started with the day she told Peter of the diagnosis. That day Peter was somewhat distraught but hopeful. She was going to undergo chemotherapy and there was still a chance she’d be okay. Peter felt that she kind of had to be.
The diagnosis took away part of her usual upbeat nature. It was hard to pinpoint, she was still an incredibly energetic and optimistic person, but there was more weight on her shoulders.
Tony insisted they move in with him while this process went on, May and Peter ended up with a shared floor below Tony’s. It was larger than what they were used to, but good. It allowed Peter to remain close to May for longer.
Chemotherapy took away her hair. It wasn’t really a big deal in some ways, May could’ve easily gone out and shaved it any day by choice without having cancer. But it was a big deal in other ways, a situation out of her control. First, she simply cut it short to her scalp, but eventually, she shaved it all off.
Seeing her bald was kind of jarring, but her warm and kind face always overpowered how she looked.
Tony offered to get her a nice wig made, if she wanted, but May and Peter found some ridiculously bright, horrific-looking wigs in the dollar shop and got those instead. She eventually accepted the wig quietly, but only wore it when she was by herself. Around Peter, she wore the bright ones.
Peter didn’t say anything. He’d already assured her that she didn’t have to wear a wig around him and he never acted any differently when he did see her wearing the real wig, or none at all.
Then chemotherapy took her energy. Part of it was the cancer as well, sucking away at her, getting worse, but Peter liked to think it was just the treatment. In some ways, it was easier to think that.
Suddenly the bald head mixed with tired features seemed a lot more intimidating. May was still his aunt, and he loved her no matter what, but she was...different. He just had to adjust.
Eventually, the chemotherapy stopped. It wasn’t working and it wasn’t doing her any favours, so she chose to try and live out what time she had left in the best state she could.
That took away her youth. She still tried to joke and be happy around him, and she often was, but she seemed a lot older. Like an entire lifetime had passed and the weight of...what was coming was a lot more prominent.
The arrangements were finalised that Peter would stay with Tony after...after May wasn’t around anymore. Peter was glad it was him but he couldn’t really feel that through everything.
Eventually, Peter moved into Tony’s floor and May was moved down to the medbay, permanently. The medbay wasn’t designed for having a type of hospice area, but Tony set aside a space and hired the correct people so May could have her own room. It was nice. It didn’t feel like a hospital.
It was at the hospice point that Peter felt like there wasn’t much of May left. She was in a fair amount of pain and hence was on some strong painkillers to try and ease what time she had left.
They made her see things, hallucinations. Mostly pleasant ones, fairy’s in the corner, stars on the ceiling, friends. But she wasn’t lucid much.
Peter spent most of his time there at first but slowly that turned into just visits. It was hard to sit there and watch the person that used to be his aunt. He still loved her, but there was only so much he could watch.
Pepper, Happy, Tony and some of her friends from work often sat in with her, keeping her company instead. Tony had assured him that she’d understand that he couldn’t be there all the time.
On a Friday, he walked in and froze. She looked barely conscious, entirely unaware of him. There was just something that felt so different to yesterday. He was almost frightened for some reason.
He moved closer so he was right next to the bed and looked down at her. She had no idea who was there. He saw her hand almost dangling off the bed, probably where someone had been holding it earlier. He wanted to hold it, he wanted to tell her he loved her, kiss her on the cheek and talk to her, but he left quietly instead. He hoped tomorrow was a better day for her, he’d do all that then.
Tomorrow was worse. He woke to the news that she’d passed overnight. And all he could think about was that he didn’t hold her hand. He didn’t kiss her cheek. He didn’t say he loved her.
He didn’t cry at first. He just nodded and ignored Pepper and Tony when they encouraged him to take the day off school.
He broke down in the boy’s locker room when Ned asked him if he was okay for the fiftieth time. For once, no one said anything. They just exited. He was only half-dressed, crying into his best friend’s shoulder.
Ned passed him his shirt once he was done and made a joke about the snot on him now which surprisingly, made Peter laugh. Peter put the shirt on and packed his stuff away. They were late for their next class. Ned insisted he go home but Peter just wanted a slice of normality.
That was the first and only time he cried over it until her funeral. He walked in fine. He was actually impressed with the skype setup so some of her friends overseas could still ‘attend’. Then he was impressed by the bright red coffin. May never would’ve wanted something ordinary.
He sat down and everything started and he was fine. Until he suddenly wasn’t, until Tony had pulled him into his side as Peter cried. Peter ended up not saying the small speech he’d planned because he couldn’t stop crying. No one indicated he had to.
Tears kept coming afterwards as people ate food and shared stories of her. As they wrote small messages on the coffin in coloured sharpies. Not a flow, but like a leaking tap. The handkerchief Tony had given him was soaked through. He wasn’t even entirely present.
She had always wanted to be cremated and Peter genuinely couldn’t tell you what happened to the coffin after. He didn’t know. He didn’t remember. He was too exhausted to ask.
They had her ashes back at the tower, waiting to be spread.
The next few months passed in a mix of highs and lows. At first, May wasn’t mentioned much. But one day Peter offhandedly said ‘May would’ve liked that’ and after that, the gate was opened. She’d be mentioned without hesitation and Peter, Peter didn’t actually mind. It didn’t hurt so much as it felt like they were keeping her alive.
He got settled into a routine with Tony and Pepper, still worked with Tony in the lab and continued strong at school after a brief weak period.
It was on one weekend that Tony drove them up to May’s favourite coastal walk Peter and her had completed a few times. Peter asked Tony to come with him because it felt right and Tony, though surprised, had agreed.
They made the walk until they hit May’s favourite viewing spot. It wasn’t the end of the walk but it was a peak that had a gorgeous view over the ocean. They’d always stopped there whenever they did this for ages, because May adored it so much. Peter never minded.
It felt right here and Peter took the little urn with May’s ashes and opened it. He scattered them out, over the ocean and as the last bit came out, he said a proper goodbye. Maybe he hadn’t gotten a good last moment when she was alive, but this felt like he was getting his moment later on. Like she was present, listening to him.
He told her he loved her before shutting the urn and stepping back to lean into Tony’s side. Tony said nothing, just led him over to a bench and sat them down to sit there for a bit. It was peaceful, it was like Peter got his proper ending.
He felt better.
Eventually, they moved back down to the car and Tony drove them back. They had May’s favourite food for dinner and told stories about her all night long.
It still hurt, and it’d probably never stop, but he felt better. And that felt like progress. He wasn’t really the spiritual sort, but he liked to think May was watching over him as he went about his days, as he graduated high school and started university, building a reputation and a family.
He liked to think she’d be proud of him. Tony regularly reminded him that she’d be crazy not to be.
They kept her alive in the regular stories told about her and Peter wouldn’t have it any other way.