Too Well
Author's Note: Greetings.
I've decided to add another one shot to this because I was struck by a plot bunny.
Peter knew the look too well. Tony Stark was going to do something reckless. Something self-sacrificing. And Peter couldn't let that happen. Not again. Not when he'd just come back.
And so, he webbed it. He webbed the most powerful glove in the universe, holding the most powerful rocks in the universe. And he pulled it off Mr. Stark's hand.
He vaguely felt the entirety of the battlefield's inhabitants turn to stare at him. Stare at this kid who now had the keystone of this battle, of this universe, in his grasp. Normally, he would feel it acutely and turn into a blubbering, stuttering mess, but not now. Now, he had something more important to think about.
What to do with it? It was stupid of him to act before he thought, it was a weakness of his. He had to work on that.
He could swing away. But that would probably just send a bunch of monster warriors after him, no use. He could throw it to someone. And risk Thanos intercepting? No chance. Or… he could use it.
The thought was terrifying. The thing in his hand was the reason half the universe had been dead for five years. Why he had missed five years of his life.
Was May OK? Had she been snapped? What about Ned and MJ? Were they five years older than him now? Mr. Delmar? Heck, even Flash?
He looked around him, at the cool space lady holding Thanos back with Nick Fury using his battle guns and Thor summoning thunder from nowhere with Loki (who had appeared from who knows where) spearing creatures and Captain America battling a space creature with the Winter Soldier. And Mr. Stark running towards him shouting something that couldn't be heard over the clangs of metal, the screams of the space warriors and the overall roar of the battlefield.
Mr. Stark looked different. Not hugely different.
He just looked… older. He had gotten more gray hairs and only then did it seem to click that year had passed. Years had passed where family was ripped apart. Years had passed where parents had buried their children. Years had passed where children buried their parents.
He had to use the glove, because he couldn't have more people be ripped away from their loved ones.
He slipped it on his hand, it was big for a second but then closed more snugly over his arm. Weird. It looked almost like nano-tech. He'd ask Mr. Stark about that later, if he was around. No! He would be around. For Aunt May. For Mr. Stark.
Mr. Stark looked much closer now. And Peter could hear the words he was screaming. "Stop, kid, that thing is dangerous! If you do what I think you're doing I'll never forgive myself. Please, Pete."
Peter faltered. Could he let Mr. Stark be guilty? It was either that or letting the whole universe go to ruin. For once, he'd have to disappoint Mr. Stark. Like you haven't already.
He felt people's gazes on him, saw Mr. Stark getting closer and decided.
He snapped.
Author's Note: So, for this story I've decided to use a 'choose-your-own-adventure' format, although, not exactly.
Basically, there will be a timeline where our dear spider dies and one where he lives.
These will be posted on the 28th of February.