If any of you are worried about whether or not I would off a kid, scroll down to the trigger warning but also be aware ITS A HUGE SPOILER! But if you do get easily triggered I recommend looking at it! Look at your own risk!
TW & MAJOR SPOILERS/ No I wouldn't kill a kid of course not I'm not THAT heartless, but there is a minor character death so please be cautious!
Chapter 29: Eleven
The metal gives way.
Peter's heart could stop and he wouldn't even care.
Get up.
He pushes himself up with a surge of fear and adrenaline, forcing his legs to work.
Move.
He manages to force himself forward for a few stumbled steps and extends his hand. The whole Empire State Building feels like it's spinning. His fingers weakly press to his web-shooter.
It misses the target.
Everything happens too fast.
His stomach churns as the metal falls.
Oh god, he's just a kid.
Instead, all Peter can do is watch as a woman takes the boy's place, pushing him out of harm's way. She disappears under the metal frame instantly.
Peter falls to his knees, eyes wide and watery.
"Momma! Momma!" the little boy screams. Peter forces his bloodshot eyes to shift to the boy, who's now kneeling next to the mangled mess of rubble. By this time, Mysterio is long gone. He did his damage and left, but Peter wasn't aware of the villain's absence. The only thing Peter can focus on is the thought that he had just been useless as he let a woman…die. Not just a woman, a human life, but a mother.
Peter's stomach twists with nausea and his entire body flushes with warmth. His breath comes fast and his eyelids try to close, but he can't just leave the boy. He gets back to his feet, trying his best to stagger over to the distraught kid. Peter has to comfort him, because that's Peter. That's him after his parents died. That's him after Uncle Ben died. He's that boy. He knows exactly what that boy is feeling.
"Spider-Man, help my Momma!" the little boy calls desperately. The words shatter Peter's heart, because he knows the boy's mom isn't coming back. When he reaches the boy, he places a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder. "Help her!" Peter drops to the ground to shakily pull the boy into his arms, remembering that all he wanted after Uncle Ben died was comfort. He wanted May to hold him, but he couldn't even look her in the eyes. The boy desperately hugs him back.
"You should've done more." Peter can feel his heart stop at the familiar sound of the voice. "You let me die and now you let her die." He slowly turns his head towards the voice, his eyes wide.
"Uncle Ben?" He holds the sobbing boy tighter.
"Peter, why didn't you do better? Be better? You knew what I always said. That woman was your responsibility. Now you've let that poor kid down," Ben says, grief evident in his distorted voice. Peter isn't sure if he starts crying at the words or purely at the sound of hearing his uncle's voice. The voice he thought he'd never hear again.
"No no no, please, Uncle Ben. I swear I did the best I could," Peter manages through hiccups.
"Over here!" a distant voice calls before two firefighters run over to Peter and the boy. One of them applies an oxygen mask to the little boy before lifting him out of Peter's arms.
"Spider-Man, are you alright?!" the other asks, noticing the hero's state of shock. No, I'm not okay. This isn't okay.
"Yeah. Just, just get him out of here. I'll swing," Peter mumbles, not quite sure if he's even the one speaking. He doesn't feel his lips move. Without argument, the firefighters leave in order to tend to the boy. Peter stands on two shaking legs.
"Your best wasn't enough." Ben's tone is so soft and regretful that it tears Peter apart. "You let someone die while you were on the ground. You let me die while you were shopping at a convenience store. You let your parents die while you were home doing nothing. You let us all die." Uncle Ben wouldn't say that, Peter's last remaining rational thought tells him. But Peter is so exhausted and emotional and lightheaded that he can't help the thoughts.
"I would've given my life to save you, you know that," Peter tries to reason. And it's true. Peter spent months wishing that bullet would've hit him instead. He could have healed. The scene around him blurs out of focus, but he can still see Ben as clear as day. His surroundings shift and distort into a nightmare of the night Uncle Ben died.
"But you didn't. I'll never see May again. You took me away from her." Peter's heart physically aches and he doesn't know how he'll live through this again. Suddenly, a red stain starts to spread across Ben's shirt. "You let it happen again." The breath catches in Peter's throat. He stumbles towards Ben as fast as he can as blood spills from his uncle's mouth.
"I'll fix it this time! I promise! I won't let it end like this again! I won't let you go!" Peter extends his arms to grasp his uncle in a hug. "I'll save you! I swear, I'll save you! I'm here! I'm-" His arms go straight through Ben. He staggers forwards and looks back. Ben is lying on the ground, a puddle of his own blood surrounding him and soaking his shirt.
"Baby," Peter's eyes snap up towards the feminine voice, "how could you?" Peter's lip wobbles.
"May, May I didn't, I," he trips over his barely audible excuses. That's all they are, right? Nothing but excuses. Excuses won't bring his uncle back.
"I lost him all over again," May's eyes glisten, "because of you." Her voice cracks before she starts to sob into her cupped hands.
"Please don't cry, May. I'll, I'll-" his own sob cuts him off. "I'm so sorry I wasn't better," he cries.
"I can't," May whispers, but Peter can still hear her. "I can't live like this." Peter's heart drops impossibly farther. He can feel his face pale and a sudden weight encompasses his hands. He looks down to see them coated in a thick, red liquid. They'll never wash. When he lifts his eyes, he's inside their apartment. There's a suitcase at his feet. "I can't live with a murderer," May chokes out, her cold eyes fixed on Peter. Those aren't the eyes of his aunt. Her eyes are always full of love and life life and have this sparkle to them. The ones boring into him right now, however, are full of grief, regret, and…hatred.
"You, you can't just make me-"
"I can. I want you out. I can't look at you without seeing him," May forces out as tears flow down her face. The room spins around Peter's vision and the colors blend together. May contorts too, her image bending and swirling like a mirage.
"May, don't! Don't leave me too! I'll do anything! Come back!" Peter frantically reaches his hand out, but it's grasped by a metal one. The crimson, metallic hand tightens around his wrist. He looks up to see the impassive stare of Iron Man.
They're on the roof.
Peter can see the ferry in the background.
The faceplate lifts and Peter almost can't look at the man's face. The clenched jaw and hard, disappointed eyes. Disappointed. The suit melts around Tony, unveiling his prestige suit as he removes his hand. He keeps his eyes locked on Peter, not even blinking. Peter doesn't dare to move as he stares, frozen in shock.
"What if somebody had died tonight?" Oh god, no.
"Mr., Mr. Stark, I can, I can expla-"
"Different story, right? 'Cause that's on you." Tony doesn't let Peter continue and jabs a finger at his chest. Someone died. It's on me. It's on me. It's on me. "And if you died, I feel like that's on me." Tony's voice lacks the anger Peter had been expecting, almost as if he were bored. "I don't need that on my conscience." She died because of me. What if she were a mother? A sister? A best friend? An aunt? Oh god, an aunt. Oh no. No no no no-. "I don't need you on my conscience, Pete," Tony adds with exasperation. "I'm gonna need the suit back." Peter's world shatters. Literally. The entire scene around him cracks until it shatters, revealing the penthouse instead. Tony doesn't move, he just keeps his unwavering gaze on Peter.
"I'll be, I'll be better from now on, I won't-"
"Heroes are dead, Mr. Parker," Tony interrupts, causing Peter's throat to close up. "You don't become a hero until you give your life for others. Your Uncle Ben did that. You don't live as a hero, you die as one. So tell me, what are you still doing here?" Tony's lips move, but it doesn't sound like him anymore. His tone is too harsh and impatient, like that evening after the ferry.
"I…I don't know," Peter answers honestly, gripping his hair tightly in both hands. Adrenaline floods his system and he become keenly aware of his surroundings. His breathing picks up. The useless, unpowered mask sits heavily on his face until he rips it off to breathe better.
"I deserved better than this." Tony looks up and down Peter. "Than you." Peter drops to his hands and knees as Tony starts to yell. "I wasted my time, my energy, my tech, my money, and for what?!" Dissonance. "Some fourteen year old kid to play hero?! I should've never brought you to Germany!" Dissonance. "You call yourself a hero? That you actually help people? What a joke. A waste of time. Waste of space. To think I actually thought you had what it takes to be an Avenger. You think I actually care about you? Not a chance." Dissonance Dissonance Dissonance Dissonance Dissonance. Peter flinches at every one of Tony's harsh words, unruly tears leaking from his eyes. He wishes he weren't this weak. He wishes he weren't here. He wishes he could stand up for himself. But the sounds pierce his ringing ears and the lights hurt his eyes and the cement is too cold through his suit and dissonancedissonancedissonance.
"Please, just go away. Leave me alone. Go away," Peter begs.
"I can't do that, kiddo," Tony argues, but the tone is softer. It's almost like the sudden shift in tone is meant to trick him. Drive him insane. He doesn't want to trust Tony again. It hurts too much to be let down. But he's the one who let Tony down, right?
"Go away!" Peter yells with his hoarse voice. His grief quickly morphs into anger. Rage. How dare Mr. Stark say those things when all I'm trying to do is help people. Peter stands with shaky, unpredictable legs.
"Careful-" As soon as Peter feels hands on his shoulders, he pushes them away.
"Don't touch me!" Peter screams. "Get away from me!" He can hear Tony's heart rate pick up, but he doesn't care.
"Okay, okay. Let's just relax." Tony hold his hands up and Peter narrows his eyes.
"Relax? Relax?! You don't know what hell I've been through! This damn life! I'm sick of it! Just go away!" Peter grips his head and tries to shake everything away. He wants out of the Tower and he doesn't want to see Tony.
"Talk to me, Peter. What's going on?" Tony asks carefully. The man takes a step forward, his hands still raised, but Peter flinches.
"You didn't believe in me then and you don't believe in me now!" Peter quickly wipes at his damp cheeks, not wanting to show any weakness.
"I've always believed in you. There wasn't a moment where I didn't believe in you," Tony counters seriously, but stops approaching the kid.
"No you don't," Peter immediately argues. His words slur slightly and he stumbles in place. Somehow, his head feels light and detached from his body. "You always treat me like a baby! Like I'm incapable! I'm sick of it! I'm not gonna disappear into thin air!" When Peter yells, it doesn't feel like his lungs are working. Everything is becoming hypersensitive and numb at the same time.
"I do that because I care. You know that. I don't want you getting hurt out there when you're so young," Tony explains his reasoning. Somehow, it only makes Peter more furious.
"No, you don't! You don't care! You don't even know my best friend's name! You don't know my birthday! You called me fourteen when I was fifteen! You don' pay attention 'cause you don' care!" His breathing comes out as harsh gasps and it feels like his hands are numb. He blinks over and over again to try to clear his blurred vision.
"Your birthday is August 10th, 2001 and you're sixteen years old. Your best friend's name is Ned Leeds, very smart kid." Tony takes the calm approach. "Michelle Jones is a smart kid too, even though it's scary how much she reminds me of Pepper. They're both good people, and I'm glad you have friends like them to support you. They're the ones who called me when your suit went offline." It doesn't make sense to Peter. Tony isn't supposed to pay attention or care or help him.
"No, no, you said you don't care! Stop messing with my head! Get out! I'm doing, I'm doing the best I can!" The more tired Peter gets, the more jumbled his words sound. He just wants to sleep, but this feels like such a nightmare that he might already be asleep.
"You're best is the best, kiddo. You did great saving those people, but now you gotta take care of yourself. We have to get this drug out of your system. It's making you irritable and prone to hallucinations. You don't mean what you're saying. I'm sorry for making you feel like I don't care, alright?" Peter wildly shakes his head. Everything feels real and everything looks real and it's all too much to take in.
"If you're going to apologize, make sure you aren't doing it to make yourself feel better," Peter says with so much venom that it would've surprised himself if everything weren't muddled. "You don't care about me or, or my life! You never cared! You don't-"
"Peter Benjamin Parker!" Tony interrupts with such force that it snaps Peter out of his spiraling. Peter looks up and everything is slightly clearer, but still hazy around the edges. Reality is blurring together. He can still see the golden light from the penthouse, but now he can also see the darkness of night from when he was standing on the Empire State Building. None of it makes sense. "Don't you ever think for a second that I don't care about you. You hear me, kid? I worry about you every goddamn second of every goddamn day. You've given me more gray hairs than anyone else I know. And I'm proud of who you are. Who you've become. Who you're still becoming. Not Spider-Man, you. Every ounce of the Star Wars loving geek that you are, even with all those terrible science pun shirts, makes me proud. You couldn't get rid of me even if you wanted to, and I know you don't. You're the most kind hearted, selfless kid I know and some moron with laughing gas isn't gonna change that. Nothing is going to change that. I am proud of you. Understand?" Peter's tears spill over, his head a bit clearer. Everything is starting to slowly come back. The drug is being burned off, leaving him exhausted and emotional. However, that means his senses are going to come back with full force. For once, he'd prefer the numbness.
"I'm sick of watching people die," Peter's voice cracks. His muscles ache and he'd give anything to just go home. Tony's jaw clenches and he sighs.
"I know, bud." Tony slowly approaches Peter, being careful not to spook him, and steadies the teen's shoulders when he reaches him. Then, Tony lets Peter lean into his chest for support. Peter can hear his heartbeat. Tony wraps his arms around the kid and holds him close to make sure he doesn't fall. "I've got you. I've always got you," Tony reassures, his tone surprisingly warm. His comforting has come a long way. He wraps his arms tightly around Peter and runs a hand through his hair in hopes of calming him down. "Fri, tell the Medbay we're coming in."