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With the arrival of Thanos came everyone that the Avengers could manage to contact. Peter Parker was very much excited for his next Avengers mission, and along with it came the introduction to Shuri. A Wakandan native, yes, but also a major science nerd and an avid user of the internet and memes. The two got on well, much to the dismay of their parental figures Tony and T’Challa, who were in a constant state of paranoia with the two kids running around. Peter and Shuri knew that this was a mission, however, and respected the limits of their team, with promises that after this was all over, they’d spend more time together.
The mission wasn’t even over when they spent more time together, and Peter wished it wasn’t like this.
As they began to regroup and take note of damages, Peter pulled off his mask and felt his heart sink, his stomach churning at the state of everyone. Shuri and T’Challa were injured, as were many others. Good old Captain America had been moving aside rubble like the righteous samaritan he was, and now he was carrying a civilian in his arms. The reliable Captain let his legs give out, and he fell, both knees upon the pavement, as he lay the civilian he’d pulled from the rubble down. Peter knew it wasn’t Aunt May, thank God, but as Peter snuck a look at the man, he felt tears brim in his eyes nonetheless. He felt the need to find who he could and rescue them, because they needed hope more than anything right now, and that’s what Peter used his powers for- giving hope to the little guys. He wandered aimlessly, up and down the decimated streets before he spotted a familiar lump of fabric...
It didn’t take him long to stumble over bleary-eyed toward the body. The slightly tanned skin was purpled with bruises, and his head was bashed horribly and bleeding. For a few moments, Peter gaped, opening and closing his mouth as he struggled to find words.
“M-Mister Stark?” Peter clutched at Tony’s Black Sabbath shirt, parts of his torso and arms still covered with remnants of his maroon and gold suit.
Tony responded not. Peter prodded him, hoping that he’d wake up startled and scold him for waking him up. He didn’t care that Tony’s black shirt was slightly wet and coating his hands in blood.
“Mister Stark? Mister Stark, please wake up… We gotta go…” Peter tried again, more forcefully, to shake the man who had taken him in. Tony’s head lolled to the side, and Peter felt tears burn tracks down his grimy face. He felt himself go numb, and he closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead against a scarred part of Tony’s chest where his arc reactor used to reside.
Peter bolted upright, looking around wildly, finding nothing but the barren wasteland of what used to be his home away from home. Amongst the smashed glass and debris was a cracked marble engraving, reading ‘Stark Industries’. Peter thumbed the engraving, before turning back to Tony Stark, finding him in the same position, his chest not rising and falling.
“HELP!” Peter yelled, his voice cracking at the same time as his heart shattered realising that Mister Stark wasn’t waking up. His voice echoed, and he tried yelling again. “HELP, SOMEBODY!”
Again, his voice reverberated off of his home that now lay in ruins.
“...Anybody…” He let his voice fall to but a whisper that only he could hear, before returning to kneeling over Mister Stark, the mentor and father-figure he never had.
But now, he didn’t even have Mister Stark.
Peter couldn’t find the motivation to continue the fight, but somehow managed, with the love and support of Shuri, the only person who didn't pester him constantly with regrets or sorrows to make the situation worse. She was the only person Peter didn't push away, and kept fighting for the sake of her and Aunt May. At the end of it all, though, there was a funeral held for Tony Stark. Millions showed up in black, and they all shared their condolences, but Peter found himself infuriated by the whole ordeal. Tony Stark didn’t mean the same thing to them as he had meant to Peter. He wasn’t some sort of icon whose loss was a terrible tragedy. He was an innovator, a mentor, and the closest thing to a father Peter ever had.
Shuri stood next to Peter in monotone prints native to Wakanda, gently squeezing his shoulder. Peter hadn’t wanted to spend time with her like this, but plans change, and they changed for the worse.
Now there lay a marble headstone in New York, that Peter remembered well, because he and Pepper Potts, as well as James Rhodes had chosen what was inscribed upon it.
Here Lies Anthony Edward Stark, Whose Ideas Changed the World for the Better, and Who Only Gave 12% of a Shit
And Wade Wilson would be damned if he didn’t see Peter Parker there almost every single day for the next month thereafter.
