"...Like last night, they are not like tremors, they are worse than tremors,
they are these terrors. And it's like, it feels like as if somebody
was gripping my throat and squeezing and…”
Peter stumbled forward, feeling something that wasn’t quite emptiness spreading through him.
“I don’t feel so good” Peter looked down at his hands, and then up to Tony’s face “I don’t know what’s happening… I don’t…”
Peter collapsed into Tony’s arms, his legs were weak underneath him. He just watched everybody else go, painless, and almost instantaneously. Peter wasn’t ready, he’d thought he was safe. He couldn’t go like this.
He clung to Tony, grasping for anything that would keep him grounded. Tony held him, seeming to be clinging onto him like it would change something, but it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough.
“I don’t wanna go, Mr. Stark, please,” Peter was dying, and he realized he couldn’t do anything about it, “I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go.”
Peter felt tears prick his eyes, blurring his vision slightly. He was fighting so hard just to be present, but the emptiness was taking over his body. He collapsed to the ground, dragging Tony down with him.
The sky was red. He wasn’t ever going to see the sky blue again. Peter dragged air into his lungs.
His eyes met Tony’s, and Peter knew he’d let him down. If he could’ve just done what he was told, he wouldn’t be killing Tony by disappearing in front of him.
“I’m sorry,” He whispered, hardly able to speak.
Peter’s eyes rolled back into his head, red sky flashing above him. His body crumbled around his somehow present mind. The last thing he felt was Tony’s hand falling through his absent chest, then everything stopped.
He died with no pain, but an emptiness that made him wonder if he’d ever existed at all.
"...Sometimes I see flames. And sometimes
I see people that I love dying and... it's always…”
There was a red light, bright, almost white. Peter didn’t want to look at it, but he couldn’t close his eyes. There was nothing. He was nothing.
But slowly he remembered, his life flashing before his eyes. The pain he’d been through, the loss. Every time he’d failed.
The grief in Tony’s eyes, and the utter emptiness of his expression hit Peter like a punch to the gut. There was nothing he could do to change what happened. This was it.
Shadows started to sweep past him, some vaguely human shaped, others something else entirely. Something brushed against his back, and he turned to see a familiar outline.
Dr. Strange was slowly being swept past him, or at least the outline of what he once was. He was moving his mouth like he wanted to say something to Peter. He remembers what Strange had said: ‘We’re in the end game now’.
Before Peter had time to think, he was gone, in a sea of red-white light and drifting shadows.
He couldn’t tell how long he was drifting for. It was as if time didn’t exist. Peter thought he may have seen another familiar form, but it was impossible to tell.
Suddenly, things started changing.
The shapes in front of him were shifting, getting brighter.Anxiety rose in his chest, and he struggled to ground himself in some way.
Everything started to spin, meld together, and he was struggling to take in another breath.
Peter felt like he was dying again. There was pain this time, in every nerve ending. There was a ringing in his ears getting louder as the light in front of him got brighter. His chest tightened further, and he tried to move, to breathe, to do anything to stop the agony.
Peter felt his very mind slip away from him, his thoughts being torn away until he couldn’t think, or see, or hear anything.
And then there was nothing.
"And I can't... I can't ever wake up.”