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He couldn't believe it.
This man, he trusted him. He trusted Quentin to use E.D.I.T.H for good, to be the next Iron Man, since he didn't believe he could possibly take on the responsibility himself. He thought Quentin was going to be someone who would fight alongside him. But, he was wrong. So, so wrong.
Now, he was face to face with the traitor dressed in his now haunting apparel. His smokey, fishbowl like mask was retracted, his angered and crazed features crystal clear to Peter. Resting on the bridge of Quentin's nose and shading the criminal's unfriendly hazel irises were the glasses... Which were once Tony's gift to Peter. Tony had apparently trusted Peter enough to gift them to him through Happy. The billionaire had picked him, of all people.
Why him? What did he ever do to earn them? He didn't deserve them, especially since they were now sitting on the nose of this traitorous psychopath. What would Tony think of him, now? He'd probably be disappointed... No, he would be disappointed.
Peter sniffled, undoubtedly feeling crimson streaming from his nose and probably soaking through his mask. Parts of his suit were torn, mostly along the arms and around the knees. The mask still remained in-tact, however, which he was glad for. This way, he could remain mostly emotionless to the man before him, shielding the true emotions threatening to creep across his face.
A small flicker reflected off of the enhanced glass in the frames as Mysterio tilted his head, beaming off of them and reaching Peter's eyes. He blinked, wincing slightly as he shifted his feet with a huff.
A loose glare spilled over Peter's face, the eyes of the Spider-Man mask contracting slightly to mirror this. Guilt clenched his heart, threatening to strangle any form of innocence from him. Every time he stared at those glasses resting over Quentin's nose, he saw the man who had once been his mentor, his father-figure. Peter felt a sob lodge in his throat, and tears sting his bruised eyes.
Mysterio unfortunately caught on way too quickly, tilting his head again and forcing a sly grin to appear on his lips, "Don't these really suit me, Peter?" The dark eyes behind the frames narrowed slightly, but enough to be noticeable, "I think they do. Now, you, however, don't fit them so well. They obviously weren't designed for someone with your looks." The man hissed, but clearly enjoyed his small speech.
"That's because they weren't." Peter snapped back, his voice cracking against his will. He grit his teeth, hating how young and scared he sounded. He was Spider-Man, he should be doing better than this. After a few moments of silence, Peter shook those thoughts away and continued. "They were made f-for Tony," Peter nearly choked on the last few words.
Mysterio hummed absentmindedly. Peter thought he could almost see the anger churning within Quentin's eyes. "Yes," He spoke after an off silence, "they were made for him. But, someone's gotta take over the role of Iron Man, yeah? And obviously it's not going to be a disappointment like you," Mysterio hissed, but still seemed pleased with himself, his eyebrows raised almost with disinterest. He let out a chuckle, which made Peter scowl even more, "Imagine, what Tony would think if he saw this. What would he say?" A sinister grin stretched across his face.
A choked sob did escape his throat this time, his lungs refused to take in enough oxygen.
"Why... Speaking of which..." Quentin's mask swung over his head once again, covering Peter's view from the glasses. He seemed to be focused on something right behind him. Peter gulped, his whole body began to shake.
Don't turn around... Don't. Turn. Ar-
Peter immediately tensed as a gentle hand landed on his shoulder from behind.
"Pete?"
Peter then spun around on his heals, the hand falling from his shoulder.
No... There's no way...
Peter's whole body began to shake, his eyes welled with tears, and he brought his hands up to cover his mouth in utter disbelief.
"M-M-Mr. St'rk..?" Peter mumbled between sobs, his knees gave out from under him and the green smoke surrounding his feet was disturbed and wafted around. But, before he could reach the ground, steady hands kept him from falling too abruptly.
"Hey, hey..." The man's voice flooded Peter's ears, causing him to shiver with something similar to relief, but also a bit of unease.
The man was on his knees now as well, sitting right before Peter.
And then, Peter lost it.
"Mr. S-Stark- oh gosh, T-Tony, I-I couldn't do it- I- It was my f-fault! I should have- I should have s-saved you! I'm- I'm s-s-sorry, it's all my f-fault! I-I messed up... a-again and n-now he has the g-glasses. I c-couldn't save you, Tony! I-I'm so sorry!" Peter was all-out panicking now. This couldn't be true. He couldn't believe it.
Finally, he brought himself to look deep into his mentor's eyes. The same, kind eyes that he spent so many days with at the lab. The eyes of the man who saved him from the lake after the Vulture's attack, who spent many nights just talking to Peter when he had a rough patrol or a bad day at school. The same eyes of the man who he dusted in the arms of when Thanos snapped half of the universe's existence away like it was nothing. The very same eyes of the man who saved him from the dusting and brought him back to life and gave himself up for it.
"M-Mr. Stark- I-I-" He whispered, tears rolled down his cheeks and onto the lap of the man who he sometimes slipped up calling father.
Tony shushed him gently, raising his hand to cup Peter's cheek and use his thump to wipe away the tears that strolled down. Peter leaned into the touch, sobbing not daring to subside.
The billionaire pulled Peter into a tight embrace, warm hands extending an unfathomable amount of comfort onto the teen. Peter's wheezed uncontrollably as he sobbed, pressing his forehead against the man's chest. "I-I missed you..." The boy whispered silently, muffled by his mentor's shirt.
There was a moment of silence before Tony responded, "You wouldn't have to,"
Peter's sobs suddenly quieted, taking in the words slowly. He let out a slow exhale which caused Tony's shirt to wave subtly.
"W-What?"
The spider-ling felt Tony's grip on him cease, then be placed on his shoulders to push him away so that he could look directly into Peter's eyes, but something in the hazel orbs didn't reflect as kind as the Tony he knew before taking on the gauntlet and breathing his last.
"You could have saved me, Peter," Tony's eyes narrowed, almost as if he were between saddened and scolding.
The words didn't really sink, and Peter felt a shiver run down his spine at the glare his mentor gave him.
"But, you didn't. I'm disappointed. I expected more from you, I wanted you to be better." Tony hissed, his glare now lit by some sort of flame of anger. "I trusted you with E.D.I.T.H., I picked you because I thought you would be responsible enough, but I was wrong. You're just a kid. A pathetic, irresponsible, kid, who only cares about himself."
His heart clenched, the words stung. A sinking feeling flooded into his chest at the bitter words spat out by his mentor, his father-figure. But then it clicked, Tony would never say that to him, not the Tony he knew.
Peter stood up, staring down at the man he called father. "This isn't real." His voice emitted sadness, his eyelids hung from exhaustion, and his eyes were reddened with tears.
Tony glared at Peter, but continued to let the boy speak.
"Get out of that form, Quentin!" Peter's voice suddenly raised, he was nearly yelling now, "You don't deserve to take on his form! Get out of it!" Peter cried, tears overflowing and running down his flushed cheeks once again.
"Hmm, smart kid." Tony's voice was not his own anymore, and he suddenly vanished into a plume of green smoke.
Peter felt his senses heighten, the hair on his back and arms stand up straight. He whirled around and came face to face with the eerie suit of Mysterio, the dome still preventing Peter from seeing the man's face and the glasses.
Peter let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes before opening his mouth to speak.
"I'm done with your games, Beck, no more."