Chapter Text
There was nothing.
Time itself was gone, as Tony Stark dragged his intern's lifeless body out of the lake.
Tony had not just seen the life leave Peter Parker's body - he had felt it. The strange feeling of his soul exiting his body, his lips parted and eyes open slightly.
Everything felt numb - the squelch of his feet on the bank, the chill of the evening breeze on his bare face, the light rain that fell down on them, the deadweight of Peter Parker collapsed against him.
All Tony could feel was an empty, lost feeling in his chest. Like his heart had been literally ripped out, strings attached.
He currently had his hands hooked under Peter's armpits and had him halfway out of the freezing water. Tony grunted as he pulled the boy out the rest of the way, then fell to his knees next to his lifeless form. He didn't need to check if the kid was breathing, he already knew the answer, and straight away laid two hands down onto Peter's chest and began compressions.
One, two, three...
Tony tipped his intern's head back and pressed his mouth to his, breathing life into his water-filled lungs.
One, two, three, breathe.
One, two, three, breathe.
One, two, three, breathe.
The actions became more desperate as still no response came, and Tony tried one last time before giving up.
One, two, three, breathe...
Nothing.
A wretched cry tore from Tony's throat as he fell back onto his heels, covering his mouth with one hand. He was gone. Peter Parker, the amazingly intelligent school kid who risked his life every day to save others, who never failed to be polite and sweet, even to his enemies. Who wore a glowing smile on his face every day, his dark, wavy hair pressed down with hair jell to keep it from sticking up. He was gone.
Tony shut his eyes, breathing deeply. His heart ached as memories of times with Peter that were either filled with an exchange of sarcastic remarks, then a burst of laughter at the other's put-on pettiness, or working together on a mission, working side-by-side. Spider-Man and Iron Man. Team mates.
Tony remembered one day - the two of them had been discussing upgrades for the Spider-Man suit, and Peter had suggested a ridiculous idea of having a laser-beam feature that shot out of his eyes as a taunt.
"It'd be so cool, Mr. Stark! C'mon!"
"No, kid," Tony had laughed, playfully shoving Peter with his elbow.
"No fair! Why does Vision get to have laser beams and stuff but I don't? That's discrimination."
Peter had joked, and his face broke out into a toothy smile, his eyes creasing at the corners. Tony remembered looking at him and taking in his features - the darkness of his eyes, how they contrasted to the paleness of his skin, how when he smiled his eyes lit up like skylights. He remembered looking at the kid, and loving him like a son.
Tony smiled softly at the memory, but the warmth soon dropped as he returned his gaze to the now unmoving body of Peter Parker in front of him.
It was never supposed to end like this.
Mr. Stark took one last glance at the kid in front of him. He was nothing, now. Just the shell of a once incredible boy. He could already see the headlines: IRON MAN FAILS TO SAVE 15 YEAR OLD SPIDER-MAN'S LIFE, AS HE DROWNS IN A RIVER.
How fucking ridiculous was that?
This was all his fault. He should have been keeping an eye on him, even when he wasn't wearing the suit. He should have been keeping an eye on his mental state, as well as his physical.
The rain started to fall down harder as Tony pulls Peter into his arms. He ducked his head over him, shielding him from the rain as it bounces off his suit and onto the bank around them. Peter lay limp in Tony's arms, his head lolled back over the man's arm, dark hair matt down onto his forehead and plaid shirt sticking to his skin, soaked to the bone. One of his arms was draped protectively over his middle, as if he was curled in on himself, the other dangling loosely off him, his fingertips brushing the wet soil. His dark eyes gazing unseeingly upwards into the night sky, his lips a pale, unhealthy blue, skin cold as ice.
Tony bowed his head over the boy's body in grief. There was so much he wanted to say that he never had.
"Peter-" he sobbed. "I'm so sorry,"
"Then why did you let me fall?"