This chapter was a lot harder to write than I initially thought - I have almost twenty drafts at this point - so I'm sorry for the delay. I hope this chapter was worth the wait.
Thanks to the people who reviewed the story. I responded to them at the end of this chapter.
~O~
"Mr Stark? Hey. Mr Stark, can you hear me?
It's Peter.
Hey. We won, Mr Stark. We won.
Mr Stark. Come one, you did it, Sir. You did it.
…
I'm sorry Tony…"
~O~
When Peter woke, he could still feel the surprising gentle touch of Pepper Potts on his shoulder. Even though the phantom had become a regular part of his waking routine, he still had to hold back sobs. When he was still half asleep, Peter was on that battlefield doing nothing but standing back as his mentor took his last breaths.
When the initial confusion of Thanos' men turning to ash bled into relief, Peter began an immediate search for Tony Stark. First, he saw War Machine. Then, Peter saw Stark.
Tony's skin had been pale with a horrific scar travelling up the right side of his face. As Peter got closer to his mentor, he could hear the strained breathing and uneven heartbeat. His efforts were in vain when Peter had tried to gather a reaction from the dying man. He only found a blank, unknowing expression. At that point, Peter Parker knew that Tony Stark would die - and it was all his fault.
If he had been stronger back on Titan and gotten the Gauntlet quicker than none of this would have happened. They could have destroyed the gems and gone home. But they didn't. He hadn't been strong enough to make sure the Infinity Stones had stayed away from Thanos during their most recent battle. Peter should have remained with the crazy strong glowing lady and helped her get the gems to that van. But he hadn't. Peter hadn't been strong enough.
And Mr Stark was dead because of it.
When Peter came to a cold steel wall met him. He sat up too quickly, the teenager realised when a flush of dizziness threated to send him back into unconsciousness. With slow movements, he stood himself up and examined the small room. Three of the four sides shared the metal view he had woken to. The fourth comprised a transparent, yellow tinted field with similar coloured bars running lengthways every twenty centimetres.
Confusion was Peter's first reaction. Where was he? Had some criminal caught him? Was a mad scientist looking to experiment on him? Though they were all possible, something in his gut told Peter that he wasn't right. It left the boy with a small electric shock when he pushed a finger against the field in front of him. He wasn't getting out that way it seems.
"Hello?" Peter called. "Can anybody hear me?"
As expected, there was no response. Peter stared at the yellow screen contemplating how he would get out of the cell. He needed to do it quick. How long had he even been here? May must be worried sick.
The first step was to test how strong the surrounding walls were. Peter tapped the metal to determine the material. Though the touch was light, the ring was loud and hollow. Peter's brow creased as he ran his hand across the wall feeling a slight magnetic force. It was like a less dense version of vibranium. Perhaps it was a variant of the material from another planet. A few months ago that would seem impossible, but with the eye-opening experience of space travel, anything could happen. Maybe a strong kick would knock the wall down.
That experience would teach Peter not to attack unknown materials. One second his foot was on the wall, the next a blast of energy sent him to the ground. Bile threatened to climb his throat and the silver ceiling blurred. Atop of a likely concussion, Peter's ankle also hurt from the insane force it had absorbed and his arm stung from where it had grazed the electrified yellow wall. The ringing that followed - whether it was from the wall or Peter's ear - threatened to burst his eardrums.
Peter felt ashamed as he lay on the ground. He had gotten himself captured without even putting up a fight and was useless to escape. For a moment, he wondered what Mr Stark would think of him right now. Disappointed probably. Peter had been great at letting Stark down when he was alive. It hadn't changed after his death either.
Even the spider sense was annoyed at him. Over the past few weeks, Peter noticed a decrease in the effectiveness of his spider-sense along with his mood. The same thing had happened when Uncle Ben had died. He had concluded his mood influenced his powers, yet it still felt like a punishment for not being strong enough to save Mr Stark.
Peter was useless, he realised, as black closed in from the sides.
~O~
May Parker well knew that she worried too much. She knew that Peter could look after himself, and she knew that the boy was smart enough to avoid becoming to hurt. Yet, as she held Peter's suit in her hand and stared out into the darkening street, fear climbed her body.
When she had first arrived home, May had expected to be met by Peter as she usually was every Friday. The two would order some food, watch a movie, and have a relaxing night together. It was a custom that the two decided on after May had realised that Peter was Spiderman. Though relucent, she had let the boy carry on with his work after he agreed to a few conditions. At least one night a week the boy must take a night off - he would run himself into the ground otherwise. May must have access to the tracker Stark had put in his phone, and he was to tell her if he had even a scratch on him. Peter hadn't liked with the rules at first but agreed for fear of May banning him from his hero work.
May had thought Peter must have gone a patrol - May made a note to yell at him about that - and went to find where he was by checking his location. When the special app on her phone told her that Peter's tracker was offline, a mixture of anger and fear seized May. The boy wasn't silly enough to turn his tracker off, was he?
She ran to his room hoping that he was in there tinkering with whatever he had found on his way home from school. His room was empty. With the growing feeling that something had happened, she threw open the cupboard and found Peter's suit hanging in the wardrobe - just as he always did on Friday's. Peter wasn't on patrol, his tracker was off, and he hadn't even texted her to inform her of any plans.
Over the next thirty minutes, May would call Ned, MJ, and Mr Delmer. Each one of them had said that they saw Peter take his normal route home. She called Peter's phone several times - all of which went to voice mail. She followed Peter's route to the train station - the last place Ned had seen him - with her car. The whole way, the dark streets showed no sign of Peter.
After returning to the apartment block, she ran up the stairs and to her room. With desperation following her step, she dug through the dishes cupboard and pulled out a small wooden box. Inside was a phone she was only to use in emergencies - and she hoped that this counted.
Putting the device up to her ear, May waited for someone to pick up.
~O~
Reviews:
MillionLights: I'm glad that I was able to keep Peter in character. It was really difficult. Sorry for the delay in the update. I hope not to keep you waiting as long next time.
: I'm glad you enjoy it so far.
Oriande Moonshadow: Thanks! It makes me really happy to know that you're enjoying this fic. I do agree that it is very like Peter to blame himself for something that really wasn't his fault **cough**Ben**cough*. I hope that this chapter was worth the wait.