All he wanted was some alone time
Peter sucks in a breath the second he notices Natasha. Of course, she would be the one to spot him first. He triples his speed. He needs to get out of here.
How much time does he have left? How long does he still have before he explodes from the inside out?
Nat falls behind and Peter can't help but smile: if he keeps this up, no one but him will die, his friends will be safe.
His heart burns in his chest as he pushes himself faster. He doubles his speed. He needs to go faster. Run faster. Be quicker. He needs to get away from everyone and everything.
In front of him, he sees the field. His heart sighs in relief as his feet feel the wet grass underneath him. He just needs to keep on running. Just run, and they'll be okay.
He runs and runs, deeper and deeper into the field. Is he far away enough? Are they still following him?
Finally, he lets his body rest as he slumps down on the ground, his jumper soaking in the wet ground under him.
He closes his eyes, giving them rest from the blinding light of the sun. His breathing starts to slow as his body relaxes: he's far away enough. They're safe. New York is safe. No one will die today.
'Peter?' Clint's voice penetrates his skull. Peter shoots up, cursing himself internally. In front of him is Clint, dressed in his battle suit. 'Peter?' he asks again, 'Are you okay bud?'
'Clint,' Peter rasps, his eyes wide in fear and shock, 'Clint, go away.'
'You know I can't do that, bud. Talk to me. I'm here for you.'
'No, Clint, go away!' Peter screams, furiously turning around. He needs to get out of here, he needs to leave. He needs to go.
'Not so fast, kid.' Tony says, stepping out of the tall grass, right in front of Peter, who immediately swivels and starts running to the right, but is immediately stopped by Wanda, who lands in front of him.
'Peter, we're your friends, don't run from us, talk to us!' she cries as she tries to grab his hand. Peter shakes her hand off.
He turns. Natasha is there. He turns. Bruce is there. He turns. Steve is there. He's surrounded.
Peter gasps as he starts hyperventilating, backing away from his friends.
'Peter, take a deep breath, okay bud?' Bruce softly says, reaching out his hand to Peter, who backs away from him.
'You guys need to leave.' he breathes, 'You need to leave!' he cries hoarsely and is met with Tony's eyes, brimming with tears.
'Petey...'
'No! Leave now!' Peter sucks in a breath to calm himself, 'If you don't leave now, I'll have no choice but to fight you. I don't want to fight you, so just go!'
'Peter!' Natasha gasps, 'Peter, come on.'
'You have 5 seconds.' Peter whispers hoarsely.
Tony backs away, betrayal and sadness in his eyes.
'3 seconds.' Peter monotones. Nobody moves, no one leaves, they just stand there, staring at him. How long does he have? How long before the bombs go off? How much time does he still have left before his friends die, because of him?
'Last chance.' he growls. Getting ready to fight. Tony's eyes widen as he realises Peter is really going to fight them.
Without warning, Peter jumps forward, hitting Clint in the face with his fist, who staggers back. Peter's spidersense goes off, and he dodges just in time to avoid Natasha's fist, meant to knock him out. He kicks her, hard. She falls back with an oof.
Before Peter can regain his balance, Steve tackles him to the ground. 'Stop fighting us kid!' he cries, wrestling Peter's hands to the side. Peter kicks his legs out, making contact with Steve's head, who doesn't even seem to feel it.
Peter wrenches his right arm loose and punches Steve in the face, making his head snap back. Peter gasps slightly in fear, but Steve is still okay. With his right hand, he starts wrenching Steve's grip off of his left arm.
Steve's hand lets go momentarily of Peter's left arm as Peter punches it. Just as he is about to throw Steve off of him, someone pins his right arm down with both their hands. Another person pins down his left arm down with both their hands.
Peter looks up to find Natasha and Clint are the ones pinning down his arms. He tries to struggle loose, but soon Steve is helping by adding his hands to pinning Peter down.
'I'm sorry about this, Peter.' Wanda says solemnly, putting her hands to Peter's head.
'No, Wanda, don't!' he cries, but it's too late. His head fills with the overwhelming feeling to sleep. Dissociate from the world. Go to sleep. Sleep is nice.
His eyelids flutter as he stares up at Wanda's face, who smiles down sadly at him: 'It'll be okay, Peter.'
But it won't be, they're all going to die, because he lost. He lost the fight, and now everyone will die.
His eyelids flutter one last time, then deep sleep grips him and his body goes limp.