Chapter Text
It was.. Strange. No Pun intended of course, now wasn’t the time for jokes, but that’s the only word Peter could use. His brain couldn’t process. What? What? He simply knelt, in shock perhaps? Doubt? Disbelief? Too many thoughts and emotions and just what?
He was gone. They’d all gone. Dust to the wind. The wizard, the alien people, even Mr Stark.
All that remained on the burnt orange planet was him, him and a scary blue lady who only whispered horrifying confirmation Thanos had done it.
Half the Universe was gone.
And Peter was alone.
No amount of apologizing from him, to the dust that had slipped through his fingers, would bring back Mr Stark. The tears didn’t even come until the blue lady had hauled him onto the battered ship.
“Oh God Mr Stark-”
“Is gone.” The Blue lady finished for him, standing awkwardly, as Peter simply raised his knees to his chin, utterly defeated. He’d been so close to getting the gauntlet, it was all his fault- it was-
“It wasn’t your fault…” The blue lady spoke, and it was only then that Peter realized he’s been speaking out loud.
“It was- I- It- I could have-” He stumbled over his words, unable to formulate a proper sentence through both his sobs and his fear. Oh my God, he was alone in space and what about May- Was May okay? What about Ned? And MJ? Hell Peter even wondered if Flash was okay. What about the other Avengers-
Everything was a haze, he wasn’t even sure when they’d set off from the planet, all he knew was the void, the haze.
How many people was he doomed to have die in his arms, how many times would he have to lose the closest thing he had to a father, feeling so helpless when he knew deep down it was his fault?
He could have saved Ben, if he hadn’t have just let that guy go, it was his fault.
He could have saved Tony, if he hadn’t have just missed out on getting the gauntlet, it was his fault.
Every time he thought he finally had some form of solidarity, he’d lose it, feeling utterly helpless as they died in his arms.
“It should have been me, It should have been- not him- I-”
The blue lady; Nebula, Peter learned, didn’t offer much comfort, emotions didn’t seem to be her forte- but even she held a hand on his shoulders when he began to choke on the air, the urge to throw up but the lack of contents in him to do so. God when did he get so hungry? He didn’t even realize but god how it clawed at him now- How many days had it been? Where even where they?
“How long-”
“A week.”
It had been an entire week. A week of floating in space, head trapped in the abyss, how had he been functioning? He couldn’t even remember sleeping or eating or anything-
“We’re almost out of food.”
The words were haunting.
Piercing.
“Wh-”
“We’re stranded. The engines failed two days ago.”
“Let- Let me look-” How Peter tugged himself onto his feet he wasn’t sure, his legs felt weak, from lack of use, lack of nutrients, lack of sleep, but his brain was suddenly awake, the threat of death invoking even more fear because Gods he couldn’t die here, he had to get home- he had to- he had to tell everyone about Mr Stark- how he was a hero- how Peter had failed to save him- how Peter had failed everyone-
He threw up before he even made it to the control panel.
Of course there wasn’t really anything much to throw up, and mostly his throat burned as he heaved. Whether it was his own thoughts or the screaming protest of his body, muscles out of use, the decreasing air- who knew, but he could barely stand.
“Careful-”
“I- I’m fine-” Peter managed to cough, bringing a wrist to his chin, to wipe himself, only to be trapped in some morbid fascination with how skinny his arm had become.
Since the bite he’d eaten way more, metabolism burning through things way quicker and with the swinging through the city in addition to that, he needed way more food that the average adult let alone seemingly lanky teenage nerd.
“Food will last about a week more on the most minor rations.”
Thanks Blue Lady? Peter didn’t really need to be told he’d be dead in just over a week.
“Do you still wish to look at the engines?” Peter gave a weak nod, throat feeling dry and sore. He wasn’t sure he could manage to speak.
Even with the minor tinkering he managed to do, he was sure Mr Stark would have done better, hell, Mr Stark would probably be sat doing something dumb like playing finger rugby right now, instead of wallowing in pity. Mr Stark would at least starve to death with dignity.
Peter felt the tears well in his eyes once more.
Was he going to die alone in space?
Maybe he should have listened, and stayed on earth, stayed on that damn bus.
Did he just get in the way?
Would they have succeeded if he wasn’t there, if they didn’t have to babysit a stowaway?
His shoulders shook through the sobs. His head hurt. When would it end? The engine did work though, giving them a boost, six days more of travel before they spluttered to a halt once more, leaving them floating once more, oxygen dwindling and food pretty much gone.
Peter hurt. Everywhere hurt.
He laid on the cold metal floor and stared blankly at the ceiling.
He’d given up on trying to sleep.
At first it seemed a good idea, he wasn’t hungry when he slept, he wasn’t almost dying when he slept, and when he slept the lack of air wasn’t on his mind with every breath he took-
But instead, the dust and blood waited for him. The anguished sounds, the apologetic response as Mr Stark shattered into dust, seeping through his bloodied hands, Mr Stark’s blood- sometimes it would be Uncle Ben though, bloodied with lifeless accusing eyes fading to dust, Aunt May, Ned, MJ, all of them dust. How many people had he failed?
He always woke up screaming or sobbing, sometimes both.
Sleep wasn’t a good idea.
But when everything looked hopeless, she came.
Peter didn’t know who she was or what she was, but some glowing lady had come for them and was carrying their ship through space.
Any other time, Peter would have been giddy with excitement, but now he could barely manage a weak smile, because surely this meant they were saved?
Sure enough, the sight of the Earth was beautiful. Peter wasn’t ashamed that he cried, sobbing into Nebula’s shoulder in both relief and guilt and grief.
“Thank you.” He whispered to nobody as Nebula simply held the small boy against her, patting occasionally, unsure how to react.
They landed right by the compound.
Peter could barely breathe. When Nebula helped him down the stairs and to the hopeful face of Pepper Potts, he broke down.
“I- I’m so sorry Miss Potts- He- I- We almost had him- but- oh God.” He collapsed to his knees in front of her, absolutely drained, eyes squeezed shut.
If only it had been him, Mr Stark would still have Pepper, they’d have each other-
“Hey?” Rhodey asked, and Peter looked up at him.
“What were you doing up there- How-” Bruce asked.
“I- I followed Mr Stark- I just wanted to help-” Peter could feel his voice crack and shake, it hurt to even speak.
“Jesus Kid-” Steve started. Peter flinched at the name.
“We need to get him inside-” Peter shook his head weakly because he was fine honest, he wasn’t worth it, he’d failed. His protests died when everything fuzzed into darkness and the last thing he heard was a call of concern.
By all account, no one knew who exactly he was, as in, no one knew he was Spider-man, but they all knew he was someone close to Tony. FRIDAY had informed them of such a thing, how the boy had such a high access to the system, and how in the event of Tony Stark’s demise, the boy held Tony’s percentage of SI, just a fraction more than Pepper. He technically could do what he wanted with the company, it’s income, fire the CEO for all he cared-
That meant Tony surely trusted him.
But the boy had been asleep for two days, attached to endless wires and a drip and Jesus he was so skinny.. But eventually he did awaken.
“Mr Stark-” He whispered, eyes bleary as he woke, chest heaving with heavy breaths of panic as soon as it all came flooding back to him, bolting upright in the bed.
“Oh my God- Oh my God it-”
“Peter.” Peter froze. Pepper Potts was sat beside him, was holding his hand, with red rimmed eyes full of tears to match his own.
“That’s your name, right, Peter?” Peter nodded numbly.
“You were up there.” Peter nodded again.
“Did- Was it-”
“I’m so sorry. It’s my fault- I should have- I was so close- we- I’m sorry-”
“Hey- Hey, breathe.” Peter gave a stutter-y inhale and then a uneven exhale, all the while vaguely aware Pepper was reassuringly rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand.
“I-”
“It’s okay. We’re going to fix this!”
And Peter couldn’t say he believed her, but he nodded and relaxed back into the mattress once more.
"Rest for now, Kid."