It all depends on luck

      “Peter,” Felicia called softly to him.       He turned slowly and looked at her. He was silent.       “I had a feeling you’d be here.”       At Gwen Stacy’s grave. Peter hadn’t been here in quite some time, but something made him come again. Felicia didn’t believe in mere coincidence.       At first, Felicia thought about waiting for him right here. But eventually she had enough sense to realize that would be rude. Felicia let Peter stand alone next to the grave, and only after a while did she come up behind him. I don’t care how cliché it is.       “Who are you?” Peter asked.       “I want to ask you a strange question. Perhaps a very strange one,” Felicia had to be sure. “Do you happen to know about the events with the three… Spider-Men?”       Peter didn’t answer anything, but his body’s reaction gave him away. He shuddered faintly and frowned sharply. Felicia understood at once.       “I was there too,” she said with relief. “But I was on the sidelines. It just happened.”       “Who are you?” Peter repeated his question, but more insistently.       “Felicia Hardy. You may not remember, but we met a few years ago. I was Harry’s assistant.”       Peter was friendly then. He seemed almost carefree and so optimistic. But now it was like a completely different person standing in front of her. Life had taken its toll on him, and badly.       “What do you want?” Peter’s voice became noticeably tense.       It was natural. The Osborns and everyone associated with them brought Peter nothing but trouble and pain.       “Don’t worry. I’ve had nothing to do with them since… that incident.”       Felicia looked behind his back, at the tombstone. Peter turned around for a second.       “Have you been there? In the other New York?” he interjected. “Peter… The other Peter said it was about some kind of spell. It baited everyone who knows…”       Peter fell silent, still not daring to speak… Felicia continued for him.       “I know everything. I guess I was one of the first to know.”       “How?”       “Norman Osborn, when he was still alive, hired me to keep an eye on you and your family. He thought… He hoped you’d find something from your father’s research. One day… I don’t know what happened, but you suddenly had those powers. I saw you swinging on chains in the harbor, a long time ago,” Felicia chuckled quietly. “I didn’t realize what was happening yet, but then, when your uncle was killed, I decided I wouldn’t report it.”       “And why is that?”       Felicia laughed sadly again.       “I have no idea. I guess I thought it was the right thing to do. I knew Norman was an asshole. And even though he was paying very well, I didn’t want to make things any harder for you.”       “Thank you… I guess?” Peter said uncertainly.       Felicia lowered her gaze. The chill of the November wind seemed to be getting colder. She wrapped herself more tightly in her coat.       “Peter. I made two big mistakes,” she had to admit. “One, I told Harry where he could find the poison of those hybrid spiders. I didn’t know that would happen, honestly. I wanted to help him, Peter.”       He answered nothing. Felicia continued with difficulty:       “The second one was more recent, in another New York. I tracked down Peter and his aunt, but there was another Norman Osborn there. I wanted to go to them. I could have, but I was afraid. It’s Osborn. I worked for him. Well, not really for him, but….”       “I understand,” Peter said, interrupting her.       Felicia nodded gratefully.       “The other Peter wanted to help them. I knew something bad was going to happen, but I didn’t do anything. Didn’t warn. Didn’t intervene. First Gwen. Now May. It’s my fault, Peter.”       Felicia felt her eyes fill with tears. So strange… She had long blamed herself for all of Harry Osborn’s crimes, and not just him. But never before had it come to tears. She was confessing for the first time and, what luck, it was the man who had suffered the most because of her mistakes. Even though his Aunt May was alive, Felicia couldn’t escape the feeling that there were two Peter Parkers standing before her.       “If you want to apologize, that’s fine,” Peter replied calmly. “I think I understand you. I understand perfectly.”       “Yes, but-” Felicia swallowed and brushed away her tears. “On May’s website, the other May, it said, “When you help someone you help everyone.” You inspire people, Peter. But you’ve been alone all this time. And I’m tired of standing by and watching the consequences of my actions.”       “So you’re… offering to help?” Peter was unsure.       “Yes. There’s a lot of people in that other world. Heroes, vigilantes… But here, you’re all alone. You inspire people, Peter. Spider-Man inspired me.”       For a while, they stood in silence, just staring at each other. Finally, when Peter decided to speak again, Felicia beat him to it:       “Mind you, I won’t take no for an answer. I’m not defenseless.”       “I wasn’t going to,” Peter replied. “You may be right. Then we should probably… Well,” Peter suddenly stammered: “No, it’s better first… I don’t know… Perhaps…”       “Coffee,” Felicia suggested.       “Yes, coffee.”       “And talk about everything. Especially the last couple days.”       “Yes, that’s right.”       Peter smiled weakly. At last he looked at least a little like the very “Mr. Parker” she’d met in the lobby of Oscorp.       “Shall we go, then?” Felicia didn’t wait.       Peter nodded. He took one last look at Gwen’s grave and turned to leave with Felicia.       “You know, I seem to remember you,” he says suddenly. “I remember your smile.       “You remember my smile?” Felicia raised her eyebrows in surprise.       “Yes, you smiled brightly.”       “That’s nice.”       Felicia tried to smile warmly. Peter smiled back.