Prologue
It had been 4 weeks. 4 weeks since that day. The day the world, the Universe, had lost its fiercest defender. 4 weeks since Peter had lost his mentor, his protector. The man who had pulled him back from certain death.
It had taken some time for him to even wrap his mind around what had happened that day. Waking up on Titan, remembering what had been done to them. Before. It had felt like 10 seconds to him but it had been years in the real world. They had to collect themselves before Strange had them form ranks - well, as best as it was possible to form ranks with the Guardians. And then the Wizard had to group together and coordinate every other hero Earth had to offer.
The fight was over so fast, so much happened in such a short amount of time and Peter went through so many emotions in the blink of an eye. Hope. Excitement. Fear. Exhaustion. Shock and grief. The same kind of grief he felt now, sitting on the cold floor with his back leaning against the wall of a dark room somewhere in the basement of the New York Sanctum. The grief hadn't left him. He was pretty certain that it never would. Not like it did with his parents or uncle Ben. That had been different. He wasn't in control then. He'd had no powers.
Not this time though. This time he had simply failed. He hadn't been strong enough, not fast enough, not clever enough. It was a realization that had come slowly seeping through his every pore as the initial shock had worn off. There were phases to all this, he knew that. Survivor's guilt and the feeling of not having done everything, he could have done. Those had come to him slowly and gradually, but a different phase had hit him less than a day ago without any warning and all at once. Rage. Rage and the yearning for retaliation. And while the grief had stayed with him through all these weeks, it was rage that was his driving force now.
He would be lying if he were to pretend that punching Merlin, the Wizard Supreme, in the face repeatedly hadn't been fueled by exactly that rage. And he wouldn't even pretend that making the Doctor's face bleed hadn't left him feeling better than he had in weeks. Stuck in one of the rooms of the Sanctum's basement, he had been looking around. With nothing to do, he pondered how much money they could make with this much empty space in such a prime NYC location. They'd only have to upgrade a few of the rooms. This was New York City, it didn't have to be a temple of luxury to make a ton of money. Or at least enough not to worry about buying the odd deli. Mr. Stark would have turned this place into a goldmine. He had always known how to get the best—
No. Peter buried his face in his hands. He wasn't going there. He was in the rage phase. There was no room for what his dead mentor would have done in the rage phase. Peter knew perfectly well what Mr. Stark would think of his actions here today. And he would savor that thought for when he was back in his own bed, drowning in self-pity and tears.
Now was the time to hand out some karma and his rage was only boosted by his own frustration. It was embarrassing how long it had taken him to figure out who exactly was to blame for Mr. Stark's death. (Well, except for Thanos, but he could hardly make the purple asshat pay unless you'd count stomping on the big pile of dust, which Peter didn't.) Peter would have to settle for the smaller fish, as it was only right to do for the apprentice. How he could have been this blind for weeks enraged him even more. And judging by how restrained the wizard had been when he had been fighting Peter off earlier, he was certain that he could land one or two additional punches before the day was done.
When Strange had first locked him in that room, he tried to feel out the place. But it became apparent to him very quickly that the wizard's magic tricks were interfering with his Spidey-Senses. That's why it took him by surprise when he felt movement down the hallway where he was kept. It was clear to him that someone was heading towards him. He stretched out his fingers, wiggled them in an attempt to shake off the strain they had suffered from the Doctor's cheekbones. He knew he would have to be fast if he wanted to strike again before the wizard was able to incapacitate him.
Peter jumped as soon as he felt the door open and had to scramble to stop himself in his tracks. His mouth fell open and he retreated a couple of steps.
"Miss... Miss Potts..." he gulped, his mind blank for a moment before his eyes settled on the tall wizard standing in the frame of the door. He pursed his lips, annoyance creeping up in him. "Are you hiding behind Pepper now, Merlin?"
"Peter!" Her voice was echoing through the room, making him physically shrink back. Too familiar to May did the reproach and shock in her voice ring in his ears. "What in the world do you think you're doing?"
He looked up, his eyes on Strange again. The wizard's face was an inexhaustible source of energy to him, fueling Peter's resentment. The longer he looked at the man the hotter he could feel the rage burn inside him. The Doctor had only carelessly wiped some of the blood off his face. Peter could still make out the lacerations he had left above his left eye and the bruises on his cheekbones and chin were already turning blue. He wasn't sure if Merlin just hadn't bothered to make himself presentable or if it was an attempt to bargain for Miss Potts' sympathies and use her against Peter. But it wouldn't matter. His wounds were sweet, sweet satisfaction in Peter's book. He anchored that feeling in his very soul before turning his gaze on her.
"Miss Potts... Pepper. You don't understand." He pointed at the wizard, keeping his eyes firmly on her. "He knew. He knew what would happen to Mr. Stark and he just... he just let it happen!" He didn't really recognize his voice with all the rage and thirst for vengeance co-vibrating in his body.
"I... I know that, kid." Her voice couldn't be more different in contrast. Soft and warm, trying to soothe him.
He gaped at her. "But then... you know, that he could have stopped it!"
She tilted her head, sighing with so much sympathy he could hardly stand her eyes on his face. "Pete, what are you doing?" Her words were whispered softly, as if only for him to hear.
"Pepper, I saw him! I saw him egg on Mr. Stark. Telling him to keep going! I saw it! He could have stopped it and Mr. Stark, he could have... he could be—"
She took a step towards him and clasped his hand. "Tony knew. He knew what the consequences of his actions could be, Peter. He had prepared for that." She took a deep breath, collecting herself. "He died to protect us. All of us. It's what he always wanted, to protect us." She was squeezing his hand, tears swimming in her eyes. "It's... a noble... a very noble way to go, darling."
"It's bullshit is what it is!" He yanked his hand from hers, taking a step back, spitting his next retort in the Doctor's direction. "It's bullshit and you know it! There were other options." He turned back to Pepper, taking a step back towards her, lowering his voice in an afford to sound more reasonable, pointing at Strange. "He knows that there were other options. He knows!"
He could see Peppers brows furrow in confusion. "Honey, there was only one way. Tony knew that. Only one way to win. I know, this is—"
"One way he saw." Peter spit back, his eyes drilling holes in Strange's skull, wishing he'd be close enough to have it be his hands on him instead. "He saw one way that worked and he stopped looking! There could have been others! There were bound to be others, but the good Doctor didn't care. He told us as much!" He stepped even closer to Pepper, his eyes on her wide and pleading. "He told us he'd not even think twice before letting us die. He didn't even care. He threatened Mr. Stark and... and when we got to Titan, there was time. He could have... He had the freaking time stone hanging around his neck!" Peter pointed at him with hardly suppressed fury. "He had all the time in the world and he wouldn't even keep looking for another way! Mr. Stark didn't have to die. He could be here now if it wasn't for him! With... with you and... with Morgan! And... " With me. Peter swallowed that part quickly. "He didn't have to die!"
Pepper looked at him, eyes wide she turned to Strange. "Is... is that true? There... there could have been... there were other options?"
The wizard took a step towards her, eyes filled with so much fake sympathy that it made Peter's stomach turn in disgust. "Pepper... it's not that easy. We had one clear shot. Tony understood that. We couldn't risk—"
He fell silent as Pepper gestured at him to stop, shaking her head. Her hand went to dab away the tears on her face, before turning back to Peter. "It doesn't matter."
Shock ran through his system. "It doesn't—what do you mean it—"
"Peter!" She looked at him with determination in her eyes. "It doesn't matter. We can't change what happened. Tony is gone. He's gone. Please... please don't..." she suppressed a sob, swallowing hard. "He wouldn't have wanted this. You need to let it go. Please."
Peter's face fell, he took a few steps back till the cold wall of the room was pressed into his back.
"We're all grieving, kid, but please..." She swallowed again. "This won't do. You need to stop this."
He tried to keep his chin from shaking as tears shot into his eyes. How... how could she. With all his might he tried to keep his face calm, himself from breaking. He took a deep breath as low-key as possible, which was a pointless attempt at preserving any of his dignity because both Pepper and Strange had their eyes firmly on him.
Pepper's shoulders slumped, her face radiating true sympathy as she stepped towards him.
He pressed himself closer to the wall, held out a hand, whispering a pathetic "Don't!", and turned his face away from her. The first tears fell as he felt Pepper's hand on his arm, softly pulling him close. He yanked his arms out of her reach, pushing her off. "Don't!"
She staggered back, only due to the Doctor's fast reaction did she not hit the floor. Peter froze, eyes widening with shock. Oh my god. He took a step towards her, before catching himself and retreating, his back pressed firmly against the wall. "I... Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry! I didn't... I didn't..." His eyes wandered from her to Strange and straight back to Pepper. "I didn't mean to do that. I'm so sorry." He slid down the wall coming to sit on the floor, buried his face in his hands. He would have preferred to fall to pieces without them looking, without them seeing, but he'd lost all control over his body. This... this was not him. He'd stepped over a line he never thought he would ever cross.
He was flooded with enormous relief and another wave of tears when he felt her sit down next to him as she hugged her arms around him.
"It's going to be alright, honey. We'll be alright."
###
It was dark. He had opened his eyes and there was only darkness. He blinked carefully, letting his eyes wander back and forth, trying to figure out where he was and what had happened. The last thing he remembered were Pepper's hands. He didn't remember much else, only the warmth of her hands. But... but she clearly wasn't here now. There seemed to be nobody but him. He closed his eyes again and focused on his hearing, trying to listen if there was any sound close by other than the shallow beat of his heart and the ragged sound of his breathing. But there was nothing. Only silence and darkness.
His eyes still closed he focused on his body. His chest ached and there was a sharp pain hammering in the back of his head. Other than that he didn't feel much. He took a deep breath, shakily exhaling a moment later. He flexed his feet, wiggled his toes. Well, he couldn't see if they were responding but it did feel like they were. Then he flexed his hands and his fingers... Okay... His right hand felt off. He looked down his body, trying to sit up when he hit his head hard.
He groaned. His left hand came up, massaged the top of his head. As the pain subsided, he blinked again. There was no light. He could not even make out the outline of his hand if he held it right in front of his eyes. Either there was absolutely no light around him or he'd gone blind. Both options seemed vaguely concerning.
His left hand scanned the area around him. The ceiling was very, very close, as were the plushy walls to either side of him. He puffed a couple of deep breaths and thanked whoever wanted to take credit that he wasn't claustrophobic. At least not yet. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was stuck in a -
Nope. Not going there.
He took another deep breath. Patting down his chest, he only felt fabric and then he reached over to feel his arm. He tried to pinch his right biceps through what he was pretty sure was a suit jacket. His arm felt solid. Almost like metal.
Huh...
He reached down, stretching and turning his shoulder closer to his chest and he could feel that his right hand was in fact encased in metal. He pushed up the fabric around his right wrist and within seconds he found the security release button. The armor disengaged just as he had designed it to and he carefully twisted and turned the metal till it came free off his right hand.
He took a deep breath and swallowed hard as he felt the cold flesh of what he was pretty sure should be his right hand.
That probably wasn't good.
He gave his head a fast and hard shake. There was no time to dwell on that right now. His left hand gripped the gauntlet, dragging it onto his stomach and turning it over. Balancing it on himself, he tried to slip his left hand into the opening far enough to engage the emergency power. He swallowed deeply as the first attempts failed then repositioned the glove closer to his chest, twisting his hand trying to reach the switch inside the space for his right index finger with his left ring finger instead but he kept getting it caught on something.
What idiot would put an emergency switch this far into such a small and angled opening?!
Frustrated he pulled his hand away from the glove, rubbing it across his face when something scratched the bridge of his nose. Confused he brought his hand to his lips trying to feel his way around the base of his fingers when he froze.
There was something on his ring finger. He stuck out his tongue, licking it.
Yup, definitely a metal ring! Why would he...
His eyes widened in shock as a bunch of memories started to work their way from the back of his mind into his consciousness. Pepper... Pepper and him, they had gotten married. He gasped for air as the face of his little girl was pulled up in front of his inner eye. Shaking he tried to get a hold of the ring with his mouth. It slid off easier than he would have expected.
Keeping the ring securely between his teeth he twisted his hand once more, reaching for the switch deep inside the glove and as the repulsor's light flared up, he had to close his eyes to protect himself from the bright light. He took a couple more deep breaths before slowly blinking against the glare. Finally adjusted to the light he looked around himself, trying his best to keep his pulse down. His first instinct had been spot on. As he studied the silk plush on either side of him as well as the white fabric lining just above his head, he was quite certain that he was lying in a casket.
###
It had taken Peter two weeks before he felt remotely comfortable to even think about the possibility to face Pepper again. And then another two before he dared to go near the property. He still had a horribly bad conscience though it hadn't even been him who had dragged her in the middle of this. No doubt, Strange didn't feel any of the guilt that Peter carried though the wizard had done way worse. Things would have to get settled between him and Merlin.
He was sat on the grass in front of Mr. Stark's grave. It had felt foolish at first. There were only bones here. But this wasn't about finding a physical presence of Mr. Stark. It was about being close to where he had lived all this time that Peter had been gone, where he had walked and talked and just been. It made Peter feel like he was close to him. Well, all the peace and quiet also helped. He'd been coming here at least once a week, usually 2 or 3 times after a successful patrol, telling him about his day, how the crime-fighting was going.
Lately, he'd been wanting to tinker on the suits. Both of them had suffered a bit in those big battles and probably should be somewhat adjusted. He had been going through some of the problems he had noticed with Mr. Stark. Well, he told him about it. Or rather his headstone. Nothing major, nothing he couldn't find a workaround for. At some point, he might consider actually fixing things but he was doing alright with it for now and it just felt wrong to change anything without Mr. Stark having an eye on what he was doing. He usually went out with his regular suit anyway, not the IronSpider. It felt more appropriate for the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
That was what he had become now. All he was. He didn't need to be an Avenger. He didn't want that anymore. None of them even knew about what Mr. Stark had done when they...
Peter hit his temple hard with his hand, trying to get himself away from those thoughts. He had a strict policy when he was visiting Mr. Stark's grave. There was no room here for all that shit. He just wanted to feel close to him. The site was remote enough that he could slip in and out without running into Pepper. He knew that Pepper preferred the spot on the deck at the lake where the memorial service had been held to Mr. Stark's actual burial site anyway. He also knew that she knew that he was still avoiding her as much as he could.
Rhodey had told him that she had asked for him and that Rhodey was supposed to tell him, how she missed him and that everything was fine, she wasn't angry and she didn't want him to think that she was. It was a game of telephone that he didn't particularly enjoy, but it was handy to hide his true struggles. Yes, he was still embarrassed that he had forgotten his strength and had pushed her so hard. He had been emotional and overwhelmed. He had been disappointed and hurt, but that was no excuse. With his powers came a responsibility that tolerated no mistakes. None like that anyway.
What he couldn't get over was how she had sided with the wizard though. How she had told him to let it go. Let Mr. Stark go and...
"Nope. We're not going there."
He exhaled deeply, fixing his gaze on Mr. Stark's headstone. Quietly letting his thoughts go, keeping his mind blank. For a minute he just sat there and listened to his own heartbeat, trying to remember how it had felt like to be in the man's presence. Thinking of his mentor. His friend.
"I miss you, Mr. Stark. I fucking hate this."