He walked under the old giant archway, weathered and crumbling from time. It was beautiful, however, in the way it stood strong; it's delicate black metal spirals weaved together to form a haunting art piece.
Drawing his coat closer to him, he scrunched his neck further down to get as much warmth as he could, the cold November breeze sending chills down his spine.
Walking slowly, but with purpose, he held a bouquet of roses. They were an odd cerulean blue in colour, but nothing out of the ordinary for the person holding them.
Continuing to make his way down the winding path, he spared the flowers a glance and felt a pang of grief course through his chest. While there was also love and admiration in his heart, sadness plagued his mind.
Taking a left down the familiar worn walkway, the calm ripples of the deep koi pond to his right and the tall trees, currently shedding their leaves to make an orange and yellow carpet on the ground scattered all around him, caused peace to wash over him in waves. He took a deep breath in, allowing the clean air to fill his body. It was so unlike the smog the city had to offer.
This place was truly beautiful: Peaceful, away from all the noise of heavy traffic as people rushed to work, no sirens filling the air as the many emergency vehicles trying to get through the clogged city. It offered a chance to look within yourself. It made you spend some time reflecting on life rather than the hustle of hurrying from one place to the next, never stopping. It was the only place he could think, really, as life outside of this bubble was too busy for its own good.
Seeing his destination in the distance, he slowed even further as emotion began to grip him tight, like a bird who had just swooped down and collected their prey. Squeezing him, he felt like he couldn't breathe. This was always the hardest part. He loved coming here, but it always made it so real, so much harder to ignore.
Heart heavy, he pushed himself forward, coming into a clearing where the leaves had meticulously been removed, not even a stray twig in sight.
It was here that he saw what he came for. Coming to stop in front of his destination, he brushed his arm over his cold nose, wiping away the snot that threatened to drip from the frigid weather and the deep emotions he was desperately trying to keep at bay.
Kneeling down, roses clutched in his left hand, he placed his free right head on the gravestone, connecting himself to the person beneath him.
"Hey, Mr. Stark. I promised I'd be back soon."
Peter stayed there for a moment, ignoring his knees as they protested from being pushed into the cold earth below, and took it all in. Tony had sacrificed himself only a few weeks ago, but to Peter it felt like a lifetime. Everyday he'd wake up, expecting to see a text from him or see him waiting outside in his living room for some strange reason, announcing that it was all a misunderstanding and he was back, never going anywhere. But that never happened. Every morning he'd wake up and relive the existential dread that it would never happen again; Tony was gone and there was nothing he could do about it.
Clearing his throat as emotion built there, tears began to pool in his eyes. He reluctantly took away his now frozen hand, the marble of the headstone as cold as ice in the chilly fall weather and tucked it into his coat pocket. It was at this moment he realized the flowers were still clutched tightly in his left hand. Figuring he should give them to the intended person, he gently placed the bright blue roses at the stone's base, making sure they were all positioned properly before sitting back on his heels and then flat on the ground as he set in to spend some time with Tony.
The blue flowers had actually been an inside joke between them, something Peter never told anyone even when they questioned why he kept going out of his way to purchase them. There was only one shop in all of New York that had them and it was all the way on the opposite side of the city. It was worth it though. The happiness it brought him as he recalled the memory he and Tony shared was more than enough motivation to make the trip and get them. Besides, he didn't bring them every time he visited, just every month or so when they needed to be replaced.
Thinking about it now, he laughed, a couple tears sliding down his face as the overwhelming sadness within bubbled out with the brief happiness. Ever since it had happened, he had been an emotional wreck. He could go from laughing about something to basically crying without ever knowing why.
"Remember how these came to be Mr. Stark?" He asked the headstone fondly. "We were having dinner at your place and Pepper had made her famous apple pie, the one you loved so much, and you started eating it so fast that she thought you were going to choke? All you said in response to her concern was 'what a way to go that would be' with a huge smile on your face. We all laughed. Then you told us, 'If I do go out, I want blue roses brought to my grave. None of those frilly flowers that smell too strong and make people sneeze. I want roses-and they have to be blue. If they're not I'll come back to haunt you guys until you follow through.' Pepper just gave you her classic 'Yeah okay glare' and I had laughed it off myself at the time, but from that moment on, if anything were about to happen that was dangerous, you'd just say 'remember, blue roses kid' and suddenly the tension of the situation would melt away. You know, I never thought I'd have to do this-'' His voice cracked, his breath hitching as he stared at Tony's name engraved in big letters on the beautiful black and white marble stone. A choked sob escaped his lips as he tried to continue, overcome with emotion as he spoke.
"S-so soon. And it h-hurts Mr. S-stark." He was full on sobbing now, barely able to get his words out as his body shuddered, the pain of losing another father figure in his life too much for him to handle.
He just knelt on the ground and continued sobbing, shaking because of the cold or the emotion, he had no idea anymore, until he slowly began to calm down, his emotions spent. He probably sat there for ten minutes just crying, letting the pain go, until his breathing finally began to even out, and the tears began falling less frequently.
He ran his hands over his face, using the sleeves of his sweater to wipe away the mixture of snot and tears that had accumulated there. He never let anyone see him this way, not even May, so the only time he allowed himself to get like this was in front of Tony. Completely alone, he knew Tony wouldn't judge him.
Taking a few deep breaths, rubbing his hands through his hair to calm himself down, he focused back on the headstone in front of him, having more difficulty now that his eyes were red and puffy from crying.
"But, I'm learning to deal with it. Visiting you helps a lot, makes me feel like I'm connected to you still, and Pepper and M-morgan-" His voice faltered again, almost sending him spiralling for a second time, but he swallowed the rising emotions and clenched his jaw as he pushed through the pain. "They come by every weekend to hang out with me and I enjoy that a lot." The mention of Morgan brought all the emotions he felt toward her to the surface. After losing Tony, Peter was devastated, but finding out that Tony was a father made some light come back into his life again. A part of Tony was still there, would always be through her, and Peter knew from the second he saw Morgan that he was never going to let anything happen to her.
"God, Mr. Stark, you have a daughter. She's beautiful by the way. I can see you in her more and more every time I hang out with her. I know she's going to be brilliant just like her dad when she grows up. I'm going to be the best big brother too. I may not have been your actual son, but I love Morgan like she's my actual little sister and I won't let you down Sir." He meant everything he said, the love for this little girl flowing through his body, making him feel warm despite the frozen earth he was sitting on, seeping through his pants and making his legs numb. Peter also noted that despite the cold breeze that had calmed since he arrived, the petals on the blue roses started swaying as he spoke, slowly at first but picking up speed as he talked about being a brother to Morgan.
"I think you approve," he chuckled, taking it as a sign that Tony was listening.
Peter sat there after that, letting himself enjoy Tony's company in silence, before his phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the peace. Unzipping his coat, he slid his phone out and touched the screen, a new message from May telling him dinner was going to be ready in half an hour and that he should get home flashing on the lit up display. He sent back a simple "ok" before pocketing the phone once more, addressing Tony before he left.
"I've got to go Mr. Stark, but I promise I'll be back soon."
The roses waved in response. Peter smiled sadly and got up off the frozen ground, sparing one last glance at the grave before waking away, feeling lighter than when he had first come.
The elegant headstone watched as Peter walked away, leaving nothing but the whistling of the wind and a few stray squirrels looking for food, as he turned a corner and disappeared from sight. It wasn't lonely, however, for the admiration of all of his loved ones filled the space.
He looked at the blue roses and smiled, affection, but also guilt surging through him. He never wanted it to be this way, never wanted to bring that much heartbreak and sorrow to Peter's life, but he had done it to save his family. Even with his body alive, he could not live if he didn't have his family by his side. And while they may feel the same without him, he knew that with each others support they would heal and become, not whole, but together instead of broken inside. It was the right move. So here he would wait, never lonely, but always content for his family to visit once again, with nothing but the delicate petals of the blue roses dancing in the wind.