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My father... the man I wish more than anything to avenge... was a monster. And Peter... how I've loved him as more than even a brother. He betrayed me further than just hiding the man that killed my father; the blood was on his hands all along. Through my pain... my need... he committed the most disgusting acts of omission.
After the funeral, that very night... he held me as I held back the anger. Frustration drove me into the drunken madness, the cold lifeless place where the only color is black. Only Peter, the traitor I loved, could pull me out of my own personal hell.
He never told me. Through my vows of vengeance... he was merely calm and reassuring. He would hold me, stroke my shoulders and tell me everything was going to be okay. He loved me, I know that much still... but why did he have to hide for so long?
Now, as I kneel in the broken glass and cobwebs the truth hits me harder still. I could never deliver the rightful vengeance the man I thought was my father deserved. But, knowing as much of the truth as I could... I wondered if there was still a need.
Yes, he was a monster... in some sick way it makes sense, though I never would have known it. I don't think Peter would ever say it, even though I knew he was responsible for destroying the monster as well as the man. I hate them both, for the secrets...the masks... the bloodshed. Were my father not a monster, then I could spare my love without a guilty conscience.
Yes, my rational mind tells me the sin would then be on my head, but it can never be the same again. Never again could I be with him, the Peter I once loved is dead - replaced with the Spider-Man he has chosen to embrace. All I have left are my memories, the warm tender moments I could never share with anybody else.
His hands were tainted with the blood of the innocent, but I must still seek my father's vengeance.