WARNING! This chapter contains a suicide attempt. I have separated the triggering section with ~ ! ~ but if you prefer not to read, leave a comment or email me on simaril137 and I'll be happy to summarize the chapter or send you an amended version. I previously warned of this and then amended my warning as I thought it wouldn't be necessary. It is necessary and is coming.

Chapter Eighty-Six

Peter tried again. And again. And again. He had vowed to protect, and he was realizing that failure was slowly chipping away at his mind. Each attempt to restrain the shooter became more and more outlandish, and the voice which urged him to kill grew louder.

He wondered what would happen when he lost his mind. Would Ross let him go? Was making him insane his goal? Was Peter doomed to spend his life with a fractured mind? What life would that be? Would he ever recover? What would the future that Tony told him about mean if Peter was so lost that he no longer recognized the people he loved?

Would he look at May and see a stranger? Or Tony? Please, god, not them. What about Ned and MJ? Bucky and Steve? Rhodey? Happy and Pepper? There were so many people he loved that he might lose if Ross broke him.

Peter would rather die himself than lose any of them.

He had failed again, Zemo getting free of Peter's improvised restraints and shooting the child Peter was trying so hard to protect, and then the green light washed over him, and he was back.

But he was not back where he expected to be. He was home.

He stared around his bedroom in shock, unable to believe he was really there. He'd dreamed of this, waking up in his own bed, the nightmare over, but it seemed impossible that it had happened.

"May," he called tentatively, voice rising. "May?"

He heard a gasp. "Peter?"

"May!" he screamed, stumbling as he ran to the door. He grabbed the wall to steady himself and then sprinted awkwardly into the living room, where she stood with her hands over her face. She lowered them, and Peter saw the tears streaking down her face.

May staggered towards him, and Peter rushed at her. They met awkwardly, throwing their arms around each other, and their cheeks clashed as Peter tried to bury his face in her neck and she smattered kisses on his cheeks.

Peter laughed a little, and May gave a choked sob. "Oh god, Peter. You're here!"

"I'm home," Peter gasped, speaking the words to himself as a reassurance. "I'm home. I'm really home."

"You are." She pulled back, held his face between her shaking hands, and stared at him with what looked like awe. "I can't believe you're here. You were gone so long?"

"How long?" Peter asked.

"A month."

Peter gasped. He'd lost all track of time where he was—or perhaps when was more apt. There had been no passing of day and night as he was on a constant loop of that nightmarish day, mornings bleeding into afternoons and then morning again. Never night. Never darkness. And the street was always empty. But a month in that time?

How Ross had done that, trapped him in time, he had no idea, but he supposed it was an ability of being the threat that Tony had created time travel to protect the world from.

Ross… Peter had never imagined it could be him that was the threat. He'd known he wasn't a good guy because of all the trouble he created with the Accords, but he could never have guessed he'd do something like this.

Why hadn't Tony warned him? Had it been him—the Peter that belonged in 2023 and decreed what he should and should not know—that had barred them from telling him the truth?

That was not going to happen now. After what Peter had been through, what he knew and suspected of the future, he was going to know everything. He would make them tell him.

"We have to call Tony," May said, wiping her tear-stained cheeks. "He's been losing his mind. Everyone has."

"Please, yes," Peter said, fresh tears springing to his eyes. "I need to see him."

He needed to see them all, all the people he loved and had been torn away from at the wedding.

"Oh god!" Peter gasped. "The wedding! What happened?"

May smiled slightly. "What do you think happened, sweetie? It was chaos. People fled, and we were all… We were desperate. We couldn't find you or help."

"Why not?" Peter asked.

May bit her lip. "There's a lot about this time travel thing that I don't understand, but someone told us they were the only one that could find you and that there was nothing we could do."

Peter wondered about that, but his need to see Tony was more urgent.

"They might already know you're here," May said, pointing at his watch.

Peter had tried the watch so many times when he was gone, always hoping that would be the time that it would work, that he could speak to Karen, and she could send him help.

With a shaking hand, he pressed the button at the side and said, "Karen?" tentatively.

"Peter," she said, and her usually soft and kind voice sounded thrilled. "It's so good to have you home. Mr. Stark is on his way here now. He's in his suit, so he will not be long."

"Thank god," Peter said, the words a little constrained by emotion.

May hugged him and guided him to the couch. "You must be exhausted. You need to rest. And eat."

"I will soon," Peter said. "But I just want to sit with you a little longer."

May smiled and sat back, pulling him against her side. Though he must smell disgusting after a month without washing, she didn't seem to mind. She held him close, running a hand over his hair and kissing his cheek.

"I missed you so much," she said gently. "I'm so glad you're home."

So was Peter. Not only was he happy to be home, in May's arms with Tony on his way there, but he was ecstatic to be out of that time loop. No one's life was in his hands now, and he'd not killed the way the voice had urged him to.

He was not a murderer. He was still himself. He had not been corrupted.

"I was so scared, May," he whispered.

She stroked his cheek. "I know, sweetie, but you're home now."

"They wanted me to kill."

May pulled back a little to look at him. "Who wanted you to kill?"

"I was in the flower market again, on the day of the shooting. I was in a time loop, the shooting happening again and again. I kept trying to stop it, to save the people, but I never could. No matter what I did, I couldn't save them. There was this voice; it kept telling me to kill the shooter."

"But you didn't?"

"No!" Peter said, sitting straight to look at her. "May, I didn't kill, I swear."

"Peter…" she sighed. "Sometimes killing is the only thing to do. Do you think soldiers in wars want to kill? No. They do it to protect the innocent. It doesn't change them, make them bad people. It makes them a hero. You could have freed yourself weeks ago. You wouldn't have had to suffer all that time, and neither would we."

"But…" Peter stared at her in shock. "But I'd have been a murderer."

She sighed again. "Peter, you're too old to think the world is as simple as black and white—good and bad—now. Haven't you seen and done enough to know the truth?"

Peter bit his lip.

"Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to for the sake of others." She ran a hand through her hair. "I'm not the person to tell you this. It should be Tony or Bucky and Steve. You know they've killed, too. They were soldiers that killed, yet we celebrate them and all the people who fought with them because they were killing for the right reason. And Bucky… You know what he did when he was The Winter Soldier. Does any of that make you love him less?"

"No, of course not."

"And do you think he's a murderer?"

"It's different. He wasn't in control of himself."

"What about Steve then? He killed members of Hydra. Is he a murderer?"

Peter shook his head.

When she said it like this, it all sounded so simple. But it felt complicated to Peter.

'You could have saved lives if you'd killed one man…'

Peter flinched away from the voice. He'd thought it would be gone now he was home. He didn't know what that voice was or how it was speaking to him.

However, now he saw it was right. If he'd killed one person, many more would have lived. Men and women, mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, would be alive now if he'd just killed that man.

He felt new tears in his eyes as he recognized his failure.

He was not able to dwell in his thoughts longer as a crash from up the hall told him the door was being kicked open, and he jumped to his feet, knowing Tony was there. He couldn't wait to be held in his arms again. He knew he would really feel free when he was there, that he'd feel safe.

But it was not Tony that ran into the room. It was at the hard-faced man who'd tasered him before the time loop that was sneering at Peter with what he could only describe as hatred. He raised his right hand, and Peter cried out inarticulately. He shoved May down to lie on the couch, perhaps too roughly, he might have hurt her, and leaped over the back of the couch.

He was ready, he was prepared to fight, but before he could, the man lurched to the right. There was the crack of a gun, a gasp that seemed louder than the gunshot itself, and a thud.

Peter whipped around and saw May crumpled on the floor. There was a deep red rose of blood blossoming on her sweater, and her face had drained of all color.

"May!" he screamed. "No, no, no! Please, no. May!"

Her pale lips formed his name, and she reached for him, but before he could touch her, her hand had flopped to her chest, and her head tilted to the side, her eyes blank and empty.

He cried out in an articulate scream of anger and grief and collapsed at her side. He felt like he'd slipped back in time again, that it was Ben he was kneeling beside as life disappeared and death took its place.

'You should have killed.'

This time, Peter knew the voice was right. He should have been faster, better, stronger. He could have broken the man's neck. Crushed his skull. Punched a hole through his chest.

He could have saved May the way he hadn't saved Ben.

They were both gone now.

He looked up and saw the man was still standing on the other side of the couch. He was smiling, his lips quirked up with what looked like amusement.

"You should have killed," he said with a strongly accented voice.

"I know," Peter snarled. "And I will."

~ ! ~

The man held the gun out, offering up the tool for his death, and Peter snatched it. He'd touched guns when getting them away from enemies as Spider-Man, but he'd never held one with the intent to use it himself. It was heavier than it looked, as though it held the weight of the death it could cause. He aimed it at the man's head, expecting to see fear or shock, but there was only a kind of anticipation, as if he wanted to die.

Peter's finger settled over the trigger, and the voice in his head grew louder, an urging chant.

'Kill. It's the only way. You're a soldier. You're a hero. You have to kill him. Kill!'

"I know," Peter said, voice calm and measured. "I will."

He shot the man in the kneecaps, making him scream in pain and shock as he crumpled to the floor.

Peter tapped the watch, and Karen's voice said, "Mr. Stark is coming, Peter."

"I know," Peter said, voice devoid of emotion. "Tell him May needs to be buried with Ben. The paperwork is on the bookcase."

"You can tell him that yourself."

"I can't," Peter replied in that same dead voice. "I won't be here. I've done what I need to do. He won't hurt anyone else when Tony is done with him, but I am not a murderer. I'm not a soldier. I'm not a hero. I'm just a kid that failed the people that loved him."

He raised the gun again, pressed it into the hollow under his jaw, and pulled the trigger.

He'd failed. He was not a murderer. He had not killed anyone.

Apart from himself.

~ ! ~

"He did not kill!" Ross raged. "I thought he would—I was so sure. But he did not kill!"

'He will now. He would have had Josef not acted first.'

"Why would he do that? You are commanding him. You could have stopped him from killing the woman."

'Because I was not ready for him to kill. I want him to kill more than once. I want it to happen again and again. I want him to become so accustomed to it that when he's faced with the truth, he will kill without hesitation.'

"He killed himself," Ross scoffed. "Why would he do that?"

'Because he failed. That's what I wanted to happen. I wanted him to feel that utter failure so there will be no inkling of doubt in his mind next time. You are being stupid. You think it's over, while I know this is what it looks like to win.'

"He's Unworthy?"

'Almost. It's only a matter of time.'

"Then we can go home?"

Ross wanted that more than almost anything. He was sick of playing the role of Ellis' obedient servant when he was not and never had been. He was fated to be the ruler of the universe alongside Ego. They were Nemesis now.

'Not yet. I want to drive the message in, for him to become so accustomed to killing that there is never hesitation again. I want him to act before there can be the slightest doubt. Another week, perhaps more, perhaps less. We will see how the situation develops. Remember, he has no idea how long he's been here. He cannot track time passing."

"How long has it been?" Ross asked, having been in 2017 most of this time, playing his role as Secretary of knew he'd been there in 2017 off and on for two weeks, but he had no idea how long had passed for The Asset.

There was a soft laugh in his mind which made prickles of ice run up and down his spine at the cruelty of it.

"We have had him ten weeks in the last illusion."

Ross looked at the screen, which displayed the unconscious Asset. Though the gun had not been real, nor had his aunt or Josef, his body had provided convincing unconsciousness from the shock of what he had done. That was helpful as when he woke, he would be within an illusion again.

And that was when Ross was finally going to see him kill.

Peter jerked up, his heart pounding and breaths racing.

He was alive!

He didn't understand how or why, nor did he care when he saw where he was and heard the sound of movement coming from down the hall.

Peter jumped up and raced into the living room where May was sitting on the couch, her eyes shadowed with tiredness and cheeks pale with misery.

She came to life when she saw him, crying his name and racing towards him, and Peter fell on her. He gripped her too tight and felt the pounding of her heart and the shocked breaths passing through her lips.

"You're alive," he said. "May! You're alive!"

May pulled back, still with her hands clutching him, and said, "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I saw you…" Peter shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I'm going to save you ."

He was back in his apartment, time had reset again, which meant he could change things.

This time, he was going to save her life.

"May, I need you to go to my bedroom and lock the door," he said. "I want you to stay there, no matter what you hear, until I come for you."

"What's happening?" May asked, eyes wide and fearful.

"I can't explain. I don't have time. Go to my room, May."

She stared at him, not seeming to be hearing the words, so overcome with his return. Peter couldn't delay any longer. He took her arm and tugged her down the hall to his room. He pushed her inside, slammed the door closed, and said, "Lock the door. Stay there no matter what."

He could not answer the questions she called after him, but he heard the lock click and allowed himself a small sigh of relief. May was out of the way, which meant he could act without her being caught in the crossfire.

He tapped his watch and ignored Karen's greeting. Instead, speaking over her. "Karen, tell Tony I'm here, and someone is about to come with a gun. He'll try to kill May. I will kill him."

"Are you sure?" she sounded more stunned than Peter expected an AI was capable of feeling.

"I am," he said. "I have to."

Peter went back into the hall and pressed his ear against the door. He didn't want to go looking for the gunman, as that would give him the opportunity to slip past and get to May. He had to wait for him to arrive and then attack.

At any other time, Peter would have been rebelling at the idea of killing anyone, even a murderer, but he knew now it was the right thing to do. May had explained it in a way that he could understand and accept. Yes, he would have ended a life, but he would be no different from Steve or Bucky. This was taking a life to save a life.

And he couldn't bear to lose May again.

Ross, for whatever reason, had reset time for him to save her life this time, but he may not do it again. If Peter failed to protect her, it could cost her life in a way that lasted.

Peter was not willing to live in a world without May in it, no matter who else would remain, and if taking a life was what it took to keep her, it was what he would do.

He would be a murderer for her.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and stopped outside the door. He stepped back and waited.

The door flew open as it was kicked, and the man rushed in, but Peter was ready. He grabbed the man's gun hand and yanked it to the side, cracking the bones in his wrist. The man dropped the gun, and Peter snatched it up.

He felt the smallest inkling of doubt as he lifted it to aim, but the voice in his head was loud.

'Kill him! Save May! You have to do it!'

Peter knew the voice was right, but that was not what made him compress the trigger. It was love that made him do it.

The bullet entered the man's forehead and exploded blood and gore from the back of his skull.

Peter heard May scream from the bedroom and the sound of her twisting the lock, but he knew it was safe for her to come out now.

She was going to see what he had done, and that would change things between them forever, but at least she would be alive.

As May's footsteps raced towards him, he dropped the gun and spoke to the body at his feet.

"I am a murderer. I am a son."

The Asset shot Josef.

The Asset broke his neck.

The Asset beat him bloody with the butt of the gun.

The Asset choked the life out of him.

With each death, Ego rejoiced as she saw the fractures in his character which would make him Unworthy to the fickle Stones.

When they looked closely at him, they saw that the light of innocence in his eyes was fading until it was almost gone.

It would take one more death, one real and lasting one, and then they would have won.

Nemesis could go back to 2023 and rule.

So… There's one more death to come, a lasting one, and then Nemesis can rule. What do you think?

Until next time…

Jadey xxx

P.S. One more warning, the next chapter will be out on the Friday, if I can find time to post, or it will come a week late as I am going on holiday — Orlando, here comes Jadey!