Why Didn't You Do More?

Shit.

I assumed it would be bad from what Peter said, but I wasn’t prepared for just how bad he really is.
It didn’t take much to make his body give in to my sleeping spell, and my cloak melts off my shoulders to pick him up as he slowly slides out of the chair.

I open a portal to his bedroom, one I haven’t opened in months.
I step through, leading the cloak behind me as it carries Tony’s sleeping body gently.
It places Tony on the bed, and I pull the blankets up around him.

He’s thinner than the last time I saw him, I can tell just by looking at his face.
His typically clean and neat facial hair is disheveled and greyer than I remember.
I brush my fingers across his face once before moving to the chair across the room.

“If you don’t want to be here, then go!” Tony’s parting words echo in my mind as I look around the once familiar bedroom.

I never should’ve left.

I knew he needed me here, and I knew the fight was stupid.
He wanted me to spend more time at home with him, I wanted to spend more time in space, at the Sanctum.
Any compromise would’ve been better than leaving.
What’s the point of going anywhere if there’s no one at home to come back to?
I should’ve come back sooner.

For him, for Peter.
For me.

It doesn’t take long before he starts to move, jerking and whimpering in his sleep as he fights between his nightmares and my spell.
Quietly, I walk back towards him, sitting on the bed beside him and clearing my head as I set my fingertips on his forehead.

***************************************************************************************************************************************
The air is cold, unmoving.
My eyes open, Tony’s eyes, and Peter lays on the ground in front of me, beaten and bloody.

“Mr. Stark?” He asks, his wide eyes filled with tears as he looks up at me.

I fall to my knees, looking at him, unsure what to do to help.
“Why didn’t you do anything?” Peter begs. “Why didn’t you save me?”

Hot, frantic tears drip down my cheeks as the pool of blood around Peter’s small frame grows.
“Pete, you—you’re alright.” I stammer. “It’s alright.”

I’m unsure who I’m trying to convince at this point.
I reach out to touch his face.

“Don’t touch me!” He shrieks, backing away from me.

I flinch away, my heart racing in my chest.
“Why didn’t you do more?” I hear from behind me.

I turn, coming eye to eye with myself, with Stephen.
A metal rod sticks through his body, blood pouring out and staining the suit around it as a fine trickle of blood stains the skin and hair around his beard.

“You left us to die.” Stephen says flatly, falling to his knees.

I look back and forth between Peter and Stephen, the pool of blood mixing, unsure where one person’s blood stops and the other’s begins.
My hands, my clothes, everything is saturated in deep red.
***************************************************************************************************************************************

I gasp, pulling my hand away from Tony’s face, pulling myself from his dreams.
A fine gleam of sweat covers his face, it’s still twisted into a scowl of pain.
“Wake.” I breathe, releasing him from my spell.
He gasps, his eyes snapping open and searching in the dark room.