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Of all the villains Peter has fought thus far, Mysterio really does suck. Sure, Vulture dropped a building on his back and almost crushed him to death, but that’s all of a days work. Physical pain, Peter can handle. Emotional, however, not so much.
Quentin Beck - God, how Peter didn’t realise he was a villain from the beginning with a name like that he’ll never know - was from another Earth. The multiverse, it was described to him as. Peter isn’t entirely sure how it all works, but all he knows is that it’s that Mad Titan’s fault. Everything these days seem to come down to Thanos, huh?
In fairness, Beck was nice to him, to begin with. He listened to Peter, listened to him gush about MJ; listened to his concerns about being more than just their friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man; listened to him mourn. However, Peter sees now that Beck was using his weakness as an advantage.
You should’ve known. And it killed him that he didn’t.
Since Beck, Peter’s learnt a funny thing about weaknesses - keep them close to your chest.
Maybe if he did, he wouldn’t be in this predicament. Maybe he wouldn’t be suffering as his eyes stung and watered at the sight in front of him. Maybe he could’ve stood strong against Mysterio, without this burning feeling of betrayal.
You should’ve known. He feels the words clawing at his chest.
Peter can vaguely hear the words screaming at him, Ned, he thinks, “Whatever you’re seeing, this— it isn’t real!”
It damn well feels real. It’s like, if he reached out he could almost...
Since Thanos, Peter had felt this dark, dark feeling of emptiness. A void that Spider-Man could once fill. However, since then, he couldn’t find himself wanting to step up, like Fury wanted. He found himself wanting to step further and further away from it.
Peter supposed he was angry. Angry with the world, angry with Thanos, angry with what he took from him. Only, he just realised, from Mysterio’s illusion, Peter was scared. He was goddamn petrified. He knew his powers came with a great responsibility to this world, like he was in debt to it for giving them to him, but for the first time, he feared them. Peter didn’t want to end up like him , he wanted to be better.
Now that Peter knew what it looked like to watch the life slowly drain out of a man’s body and eyes, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to experience it again. The way his body was frozen and slumped against the debris, unable to move, speak, breathe. If that’s what power looked like, Peter didn’t want it.
Peter missed him. Say what you want about Tony Stark, but he was a good man. He was known for being a stuck up, selfish playboy, but Peter knew that couldn’t be the furthest from the truth. That man didn’t have a selfish bone in his body. He idolised him so much, Peter wanted to be him. But now, knowing how that journey ended? He wasn’t so sure.
But now, stood before him, was Tony Stark. All the late nights after patrol hanging around remembrance sites, seeing all the candles lit in his name, the art being produced in memory of him, came back to Peter at once. The man he mourned stood right in front of him.
“Hey, kid.” It sounded just like him.
You should’ve known.
Peter let out a whimper. He knew tears were forming under his mask and his face was twisted in this mixed look of shock and anguish.
After finding his voice, he couldn’t help hit whisper, “You’re dead.” He could taste the saltiness of his tears on his tongue. “You’re dead, you’re dead, you’re dead.”
You should’ve known.
“I know, it’s crazy.” Tony let out a breathy laugh. “I don’t know how, kid, but I’m back.” He then took a bold step towards Peter, who took one back.
“I watched you—“ Peter cut himself off, a lump forming in the back of his throat. It felt like there was something clawing at his chest. “No one comes back from that, not even you.” It hurt to say. If anyone was able to do the impossible, it would be Tony.
“It’s good to see you. I missed you, kid.” Tony smiled. It looked sinister, but Peter didn’t want to see it like that.
“You mis— I don’t understand, Mr. Stark.” Peter desperately sniffled. His hands were shaking and his knees felt like they could give way any moment. “Please, help me understand. How are you here?”
Peter had never felt his head go like this. Confusion wrapped with relief and anger and sadness and guilt and— man, his head hurt. His head was spinning and he couldn’t seem to get a handle on it. Nothing made sense.
You should’ve known.
“Listen to me, Pe— Spider-Man!” Was that Ned again? “Stark isn’t there. Stark died after Thanos, please.” Peter could hear what he was saying but he wasn’t listening.
“I’m not sure.” Tony shrugged, slowly making his way towards Peter. “Destiny wasn’t done with me, I suppose.”
“Listen to me!” Peter couldn’t. He was hanging onto every word Tony had to say and that was it.
“I really— I really missed you, Tony.” Tony nodded in understanding. “And— And I’m scared.” Saying that felt like a massive relief on Peter’s shoulders. The other superheroes, the new Avengers, didn’t seem to carry the same burden he did.
“I know, kid. And that’s alright.” Peter couldn’t remember the last time he had heard Tony’s voice be so soothing, so sympathetic. “Scared means you care. You have a much greater fate than I did, kid. I’m proud of you.”
Everything he was saying felt like everything Peter had wanted to hear, needed to hear. Scared means you care , he recited in his mind, his brain still twitching from all of the different emotions playing out in his head.
“Take off your mask.” Tony suddenly said. Peter blinked away the tears flowing freely from his eyes and looked up at him. His mind buzzed with confusion as he vaguely could feel London’s rain drop onto his shoulders.
“I— What?”
“I want to see you, kid. It’s been so long.” Tony’s eyes seemed to water with the rain. When had Peter last seen Tony cry? Had he ever seen him cry?
You should’ve known.
In Peter’s mind, the response was easy. He vaguely remembers his schoolmates stood only a mere few feet behind Spider-Man, and he’s aware of the surveillance London has, yet it seemed like something that didn’t require any thought.
“I— Yeah, yeah.” Peter’s fingers clasped around the bottom of his mask, the rain getting heavier and heavier with each beat that passed.
“Don’t!” Ned, again? Maybe it was MJ this time.
“I’m proud of you.” Tony urged him on.
You should’ve known.
When the mask passed his lips, Peter knew it was too late now. He was going to do this, was going to reveal his identity. But that didn’t seem like what mattered. What mattered was that he was going to see Tony Stark properly, face-to-face for the first time in months. The same Tony Stark who he believed to have seen for the last time that damned day.
There was no doubt in Peter’s mind.
You should’ve known.
The mask was off. London had never felt colder. His brown hair was already drenched and water hammered heavily onto his face.
There were sharp intakes of breaths, maybe from his teacher, his schoolmates, himself. His back was faced towards them, but it was the initial shock of Spider-Man being revealed.
His eyes stung from all the water falling into his face, or maybe it was a mix of his tears. Peter felt the mask slip from his fingers and onto the ground with splash as it hit the water.
When he finally looked back at Tony, there was a proud gleam on his face, and Peter knew he had done the right thing.
You should’ve known.
Since the death of his father and his uncle, Peter had wanted nothing more than to see the proud fatherly look on a man’s eyes again and have it directed towards him. Now he had it, but despite all the gleaming feelings he had about finally making Stark proud, he felt something dark inside his stomach, something ugly.
“How’s this for stepping up?” Tony’s voice deepened.
You should’ve goddamn known!
“Wha—?” Before Peter could even finish his words, Tony had disappeared. Nothing dramatic, not even a purple cloud or a bang, he just faded from Peter’s vision.
His legs took him to the ground before Peter knew what was happening. He found himself kneeling on the ground, rain beating harder than ever. His fists connected with the ground hard, breaking the concrete underneath. He was yelling and screaming, rain flying everywhere and he couldn’t grasp a sense of calmness. His body was shaking with a mixture of everything that had happened.
“One of the proudest thing a villain, as you heroes like to call us, is being able to reveal who really is underneath the mask.” A too familiar voice said. It sickened Peter.
Peter turned himself around on the ground, finally facing his peers and most importantly, Quentin Beck.
There were gasps, stutters and for some, just utter silence.
Peter Parker was Spider-Man. And they knew. And Peter couldn’t go back.
“Silent, huh? Who woulda thought?”
He couldn’t find the words inside of him. Peter sat there, slumped on the floor, all pathetic looking.
There was a beat of silence. Nothing other than the hard hammering of rain and distance traffic. Until, however, Beck’s laugh filled the street.
“I’ll see you later, Parker. For round two, when you’re feeling up to it, of course. Must be hard losing your fill-in father.” Peter heaved himself off of the ground and threw himself into Beck, only to be met with his green smoke as Mysterio got away.
Peter let himself fall to the ground, in front of his schoolmates. He knew they knew who he was. Peter was reminded of that each time he felt the water hit hard against his face.
Despite feeling like he didn’t have the strength, he looked up, and by god he must’ve looked awful because their faces were twisted in too many different emotions to be able to pinpoint one.
“I’m sorry, Peter.” Ned’s voice was soft as he held his hand out to his friend. He took it and pulled himself up.
“Parker, I—“
“Don’t you dare, Flash.” Peter said, striding towards him, his fist raised high. “Just,” he sighed. “Don’t.” Peter let his arm fall back to his side.
“You’re out then. The world’s going to know, Pete.” MJ said cautiously.
“I know.” He walks back slowly into the middle of the road, his mind still buzzing from Beck, his identity being revealed and, well, Tony. “Best to go out in style then, huh?”
“Where are you going?” Flash asked as Peter raised his web shooters.
“To do something Tony would’ve been proud of.” He smiled fondly. “To stop a bad guy.“