Separated

May sniffed as the ship landed in a dense forest, very near where she spread her nephew’s ashes.
“Why are we landing here first? Wouldn’t it be easier to find... his... pieces—“ she broke off her sentence with a sob.
“Get ahold of yourself, plot device. And no, it wouldn’t be easier to find him near the Tower because of where I flushed—uh, spread—his ashes. We’ll have an easier time searching the mountains for fingers and kidneys.”
Tony left the ship after strapping on his organ-mushing boots and grabbing a trash bag. May followed minutes later and stayed behind Tony.
“You see, these boots are good because they’re completely waterproof, and blood washes right off the vinyl—“
“Peter! Peter!” May called. Tony turned around.
“Come on, he can’t hear you. He’s all chunked, like reject soup—“
“Let’s split up,” May said, wringing her hands. “He could be anywhere in these woods, or on this mountain, so let’s cover as much ground as possible.”
“When did you learn to use higher thinking abilities? And fine, I’ll go to the left, you go to the right.”
“Wait! Uh, how will I reach you? We don’t have cell service...” she paused for a moment and then giggled. “Should I put, like, an Iron Man symbol in the sky or something?”
“That’s the wrong fucking universe, fake fan.”
Five minutes later, Tony was stamping through the woods, wondering why the coke hadn’t hit yet, when he tripped over a mound coated in wet leaves. A grating moan begged for attention.
“Glitter Nips?”
He dumped the slick clumps out of his organ mashers and peeled the mound’s coating away. A pale face caked in dirt gasped and coughed up clumps of mold.
“Ew, a raccoon,” Tony said.
“No, Mr. Stark!” Peter said between gasps, “It’s me! Peter!”
“Wait a minute, I think that’s Paul!”
“Peter, Mr. Stark! What happened? Why am I here?”
“Oh god, look at Paul’s body! He died so young!”
“I’m alive! Where are we? Where are the others?”
“This is a sad day for sure. Phillip materialized, but too late.”
“What’s going on, Mr. Stark?”
“It’s time to pour one out for Phineas.”
Tony grabbed his flask, took a swig, and dumped the rest on Peter.
“Why did—is this Listerine? Mr. Stark, please, I’m alive!”
Tony’s eyes widened.
“Percy, you’re alive? I can hear you, Percy! It’s okay! It’s going to be okay!”
“Mr. Stark, where is everyone?”
“Shh, Pert. Save your strength. You’re not making any sense.”
“Mr. Stark, I’m perfectly lucid!”
“Oh, the tragedy! A once bright mind now completely incomprehensible! What’s that, Guillermo? You want me to put you out of your misery?”
Tony drew his handgun.
“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, NO, MR. STARK!”
May sprinted towards them.
“I heard pathetic screaming! Is Peter here?”
“Aunt May! Why are you here? What happened?” Peter asked, attempting to prop himself up.
“Oh, Peter! I thought... I thought I’d never see you again!” May’s eyes welled up. She knelt beside him and pulled him into a tight hug. Peter wrapped his arms that were too weak to stop Thanos around May. After several deeply emotional moments I don’t have the energy, patience, or skill to describe, she rose to her knees, Peter still around her.
“Peter baby, you need to eat. You’re so much lighter than you were before.”
She stood fully then, and Peter’s torso remained clinging to her waist. His body stopped just before the hem of his tattered shirt. May screamed.
“SHOOT IT! SHOOT IT! TONY, SHOOT IT! OH GOD! WHAT THE FUCK!”
She dropped her leg-impaired nephew and wiped viciously at her shirt. Tony drew his handgun again.
“NO, PLEASE! I DON’T KNOW WHERE MY LEGS ARE! I SWEAR I’M STILL PETER!”
“HIS NAME IS PERRY!” Tony said, attempting to club Peter with the gun.
“Wait!” May said, “Peter, I’m sorry. I was just... startled. Over this entire day. Week. Whatever. It’ll be alright.”
“It’s alright. Just please, tell me what happened!”
“You got it,” said Tony, fishing around in his pocket. “If there’s cell service, I can download Infinity War.”

TO BE CONTINUED???????