Chapter 6
Back home Tony sat down and poured himself a glass of scotch. Talking to the kid's friends broke him even further, ripped him into a million little pieces.
He looked at the box in the middle of the table, it seemed to spread a dark veil in the room, impenetrable and inescapable. His own was still lying next to it, but he did not manage to open it. Reading Peter's last words had a finality, as if opening the letter would end the time the two had together forever and irretrievably.
He sighed and typed a message, to his teammates, there was a letter for each of them, even Scott, whom he had only seen a few times.
He tinkered with the few words forever, finally giving up and just hitting send. There were just no "perfect" words to express this terrible news.
For some time he just sat there, drinking his scotch and staring into space. On the one hand he felt deeply sad, on the other hand, nothing. As if they were drained from his body
After what felt like an eternity, in reality it was hours, he stood up and walked towards the door, but just before he was out of reach, he turned around and reached for the letter.
He went to the place where he had sought shelter so often, where he could distract himself so well. But even his beloved workshop seemed empty without Peter. He walked to the workbench where his son had always worked and stroked the brass-colored nameplate. What had he been happy about when Tony had surprised him with his own workplace. He sighed as he looked at the chaos on the tabletop, it had never been really neat. But that had never bothered him before. His eyes wandered over the plans, project parts and various assorted sheets. Peter had always been happy to help him.
He grabbed the prototype and plans of a new joint for the prosthetic legs they had been working on together. Actually, Peter had been working on it almost alone and had been close to completion. His plans and notes were more than enough to let the mechanic finish the project. He put the finished joint in a box in front of the door, he would make sure that someone would pick it up. With a sigh, he stepped into his workspace and did what he always does to distract himself, he tinkered.
Finally, when his eyes met the letter for what felt like the hundredth time, he decided to read it. It was infinitely painful, but he had wished for it. So he sat down on an armchair with the letter in his hand and began to read:
Dear Tony,
I wish I didn't have to talk about this because it is just so incredibly sad, but by the time you read this letter I will probably be dead. I hope you are all right, I don't want you to be miserable because of me. Even though we both wish that such a letter doesn't have to exist, I'm sitting here writing it now. Occupational hazard or something...
Nevertheless I am glad that you found my letters and decided to read yours as well. But it would also be really nice if you would give the others their letters, if you haven't done that yet.
But now to the main point, I really want you to know that nothing you did would have stopped me from being Spiderman, the only thing you did was protect me, without you I would probably still be swinging around in my "pajamas". Without you I would never have gotten this far, I owe you so much. So don't you dare blame yourself!
When May died after Ben, I thought my life was over and I could never be happy again. I would have to finish my internship and would end up in some foster home. But you took me in and I couldn't have imagined a better home and a better father.
You have no idea how much that meant to me, I couldn't have done it without you. I had nothing and no one left, but you gave me a new family.
And I'm really scared, not of death per se, I'm going to see my, parents, May and Ben again. They will take care of me. But I'm afraid to leave everything behind, to leave you alone. Please don't hide and try to get help when you feel bad. This is important to me.
If you don't mind and feel ready, it would mean a lot to me if the world learns who Spiderman was. I want people to learn something from this. That some might think twice before judging someone because you never know the whole story behind something. That anyone can be a hero, even if you're just helping an old lady cross the street or stopping a bully from making someone's life miserable. That even lanky Peter, can be the beloved Spiderman.
Before I conclude here are a few things I wish for my funeral service :
- please wear colors. I know that you should wear black, but I do not like it
- Please play music that I like. Nice would be "Rain drops keep falling in my head", I know, pretty cheesy, but that always cheers me up. Or AC/DC that always reminds me of you and the tinkering in the workshop. (Highway to hell would be quite fitting ;))
- I like sunflowers
- I would not like to be cremated
- If you don't feel like giving a speech, you don't have to. It doesn't have to hurt any more than it already does. Do what feels right.
- I wish I had something of yours with me, that would be great
I will miss you so much,
I love you
Your Peter
Tony looked up from the letter, tears running down his cheeks. Peter had written this, a teenager who shouldn't think about his own death. He should meet with his friends, go to parties and trips.
He wanted to fulfill his every wish and plan everything exactly as Peter had wished, he would hold the best speech in honor of him and in honor of spiderman that there can only be, he deserved it.