Hey y'all. I originally wrote this fic in French to study for my final and just posted it for fun. Then 'queenb' pointed out that I might want to write an English version, which makes sense, because I'm actually fluent in English, and I'm not at all fluent in French. So here is the English version. I tried to improve the flow a bit, but maintain the original sense of the story, so it's a bit scatterbrained. Still, I hope you like it. Enjoy!
Peter had never felt so young as he did watching Mr. Stark die.
In his mind, he wasn't a kid. He was Spider-Man, not Spider-Boy. At sixteen, he was definitely not a child. But in that moment, as Peter watched the light fade from Mr. Stark's eyes, he wished he was still a kid. It was normal for little boys to cry. Men were strong. Mr. Stark wouldn't want him to cry; Peter knew that for certain.
But how ? How could Peter possible remain strong when Mr. Stark, when Iron Man, was dead? For Peter, the man was the world. If he was dead, then the world had to have ended. Peter sat there in the ruins, waiting for the world to realize it was already dead. After all, if the sun went out, it would take eight minutes and twenty seconds for them to know. Perhaps it just took time for the world to notice Mr. Stark's absence as well. But then, why did Peter already feel it so acutely?
He cried. Hot, bitter tears fell from his eyes, and a wail tore through him. He could have stayed there crying until the (impending) end of the world. But he didn't. Instead, Peter looked up and noticed Captain America watching him. If fact, all the Avengers were watching him. And no one spoke.
Peter stood up, and he never sat down again.
The New Iron Man!
Since his battle against the alien captors of New York City, the world has fallen in love with Spider-Man. While there remains no news regarding the whereabouts of the other Avengers, Spider-Man is never hard to find. Whenever there is someone in need, that's exactly where he'll be. This week, he's rescued a school bus from a fiery plunge off Macomb's Dam Bridge, prevented three robberies, and still had time to rescue a Queen's cat stuck in a tree. How does Spider-Man manage to do so much? No one knows, but New York, and the world, loves him for it!
"It's a 'C', Peter," Ned said when his friend looked like he was going to die. "And it's in history."
"But! But…" Sure, his grades had been lower since he'd become Spider-Man, but he'd never received a 'C'. Admittedly, he hadn't studied. But if he had stayed home and studied for this quiz, that girl from Columbia would be dead, so he didn't exactly regret not studying. He couldn't regret it. But even if he wouldn't change a thing, Peter could not get past the sheer horror of the grade before him. "But people who get 'C's' don't get into MIT!"
For a second, Ned looked sympathetic. Then his expression shifted to one of confusion and he asked, "Didn't Mr. Stark write you a letter of recommendation before he died?"
"Yeah?"
Ned shook his head, laughing, "Relax, Peter. You're going to go to MIT."
That night, the pen in Peter's finger clattered to the floor. "Aunt May? Who writes a letter of recommendation for someone who is dead?"
Peter was only halfway through the door before Mrs. Stark asked, "Do you have the presents for Morgan?" Peter's hands were obviously empty, but she carried on anyways, "Bring them to the party room."
She was nervous; that was obvious. But it wasn't difficult to know why. This was Morgan's first birthday since her father died, and everyone wanted her to have a good day.
Peter more than anyone.
"Yes Mrs. Stark. I put them there already. The cake too," he told her with a smile.
She breathed a deep sigh of relief, then kissed her hands, "I love you Peter."
"I love you too, Mom."
Morgan was ten years old. Peter was twenty-two. They'd been born seventeen years apart. These days, things like that were normal.
She was sitting in his lap, her head resting gently against his chest. Peter hadn't seen her since Christmas, but she'd definitely grown in that time. This newest growth spurt surprised Peter. It also made him sad.
"Do you remember my dad?" Her voice was so small, so unsure, it broke Peter's heart a bit.
"Yeah, do you?"
Suddenly, the floor seemed to get really interesting.
For a moment, Peter sat there thinking. Her words cut deep into his heart, and he wondered just where it had all gone wrong. But then he decided it wasn't worth lamenting. He had a new mission, the most important mission of his life.
Standing suddenly, he ordered, "Come with me"
"Where?"
"Come with me," he laughed. "I should have done this years ago. If your dad was here, he'd kill me."
Morgan was very clearly confused, but she trusted Peter. They passed through the house until finally arriving at the garage. It was huge, of course, filled with rows of cars, most of which hadn't been touched in years. Peter cast one look across the room then told her, "Pick."
"You're crazy," Morgan answered, but she pointed to the car right next to the door.
Peter walked towards it. It was an Audi, the only car he'd ever seen Mr. Stark actually drive. For a man with so many cars, he really hated driving. But it was a good car. A safe car comparatively speaking, and it made Peter smile to know that, somehow, Morgan had picked her father's favorite.
"I'm going to teach you about cars, and you're going to learn. You need to change the motor oil at least twice a year. You could go to Jiffy-Lube, but if you come here, I'll show you how. First you have to open the hood…"
"Stop," Morgan interrupted. Peter did. Then, when she didn't say anything, Peter stuffed his hands into his pockets and waited.
She finally asked, brows furrowed, "Neither of us like cars. Why are we doing this?"
Once more Peter smiled, then he answered simply, "Because I remember your dad."
Peter Parker Is Spider-Man
The world awoke this morning to the real identity of the hero Spider-man after he was unmasked in battle last night. Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man, is the Head of Research and Development at Stark Industries, and a close friend of the late Iron Man's family. Parker himself was not available for comment, but Morgan Stark, 14, said, "Peter is my brother and Spider-Man. I don't see anything wrong with that. Oh! He also has lots of lawyers, so stay away from him. Have a nice day!"
In his heart, Peter was still a boy, the same boy who's been born from the blood of Iron Man, of Mr. Stark. But in reality, he was no longer young. When he fell from a building, he wasn't fine like he once would have been. No, he was dead.
The world mourned.
Peter smiled.
And standing besides him, Mr. Stark smiled as well.