He knew death, he knew grief. He had been dealing with both since he was five and his parents died. He knew it intimately, from Ben to Tony to now even Aunt May. He had no one anymore, and he knew this well.
He knew that it was his own fault, and he knew that no one remembered him because of him, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be sad about it.
He knew the view from rooftops, he's spent a lot of time on them as Spiderman. He's spent a lot of time throwing himself off them and then catching himself.
He doesn’t have his web -shooters on today.
The sun was setting, casting a golden light over the entire city, reflecting off the Avengers building. He was glad that at least he would be able to go out with a wonderful view like this. He was glad his last moments would be beautiful. He was glad no one remembered him, he was glad he became spiderman, he was glad he had saved lives, he was glad he had lived at all, he was glad that he would be able to finally join everyone else, he was glad he wouldn’t be alone. He was glad that no one would question where he was, that no one would remember who he was. He was glad about a lot of things.
He waited on the rooftop. He waited and watched as the world moved around him.
He watched as a little girl ran to the candy shop around the corner, clutching a small handful of money, a wide grin on her face.
He watched the teen play his guitar on the fountain, a small hat slowly filling with money.
He watched the woman with a baby on her hip hang up her washing inside, talking to someone on the phone as she hung up onesies and shirts.
He watched as two siblings walked around the park, arguing about something.
He watched a group of kids play tag in the park, having to go home when the sun started setting and being dragged away by their parents.
He watched as the park emptied, as the roads calmed, as the sent went further and further behind the horizon.
He supposed that when the sun was nearly completely gone and the moon was full was a perfect time to do it, so he stood up. He had his spiderman mask in his bag, he didn’t have a note. He took a step closer to the ledge, spreading his arms out and turning around. He smiled and leaned back, relaxed in his final moments.
He always liked the feeling of flying.