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"Peter it's not your fault."
"No, no, no, it is and I am going to fix it" Peter stepped forward to keep balance as he landed on Liberty's head, pointing a finger at Strange to somehow magically make him understand that he could do it.
"I know I messed up with asking for the spell in the first place. And then talking during it. And then fighting you to keep from sending everyone back. And then taking them to Happy's place. And I did this but we are fixing it!" It was hard to breath, but Peter spewed his words out, hoping Strange would get that he is fixing it. Even though he couldn't fix everything.
Strange's face was relaxed, not mad like he was when Peter left him in the kaleidascope world but that was impossible because now, now was worse than earlier so maybe this was just his really mad face. So mad that his muscles were overwhelmed and gave up trying to show his madness levels. Yes! That had to be it.
So mad his mouth wasn't working because he didn't say anything as Peter paused, waiting for the yelling, the I-told-you-sos or even just the disappointed face that he gave Peter when he left him in the mirror place. But he just stood there looking at Peter with that look on his face, and Peter knew it was his fault, he knew it so much that it hurt to breath and maybe if Strange understood that he knew and that he was fixing it then he would be less mad.
"We fixed Doc and the dino guy and Osborn so we can send them back and its just we need to do the thingy with the box thingy and everything can go back," Strange took a step forward, that calm look still on his face and Peter took a step back. Strange was mad but he wouldn't do anything to him right? Of course not, he helped Tony with everything and helped tons of people who needed his help, he was a hero after all. Though Tony hadn't killed his Aunt, someone who loved him and he didn't ruin the lives of his best friends like Peter had.
"And I know you are mad, but uh, please don't hit me, like it is totally deserved but I am already in a little bit of pain and I mean you can do it when I am better yeah? Yeah!"
Strange took another step forward, and Peter another back. Another forward and back. Forward and back. Maybe he would harm Peter, but just a little, like the I-am-going-to-beat-the-shit-out-of-you-but-only-because-I-care kind of thing. He deserved it ten times over, but he wanted to at least get this finished so that sharp pain in his chest would go away.
"Okay I mean maybe you could punch me right now, just like not in the face or the stomache or like anywhere else I have a lot of bruises right now and I know I deserve it and I'm sorry an-" Strange took another step forward and Peter took another back, well tried to before realizing it was just air behind him. He had nowhere to go and holy shit that was a long ways to fall, even with a way to catch himself.
Holy shit Strange was going to be the one who killed him. It made sense, because the other Spidermans killed people, and he had seen plenty of deaths from when the Avengers fought the weird army of aliens. It was a part of the war, and deaths happened. But his death wasn't supposed to happen, no those were villians. Unless this made him a villain now.
The octopus guy or godzilla or the moody electric socket wouldn't be the ones to kill him, no. It would be his friend.
"Okay, okay, now I know I deserve it but please don't kill me, I mean," Peter shot his arm out, flinging web to the nearest spike of the crown before tugging. He pulled on the string hard, only to get halfway before something yanked him back, Strange's magic whips. That sharp pain in his chest increased and each word felt like when the roof had collapsed on him like it had done so many years ago.
"Oh my god oh my god oh my god," Peter voice cracked as he was brought back to Strange, bringing his arms up to protect himself. He didn't want to die, he wanted to go to May's funeral and watch Ned and MJ go to MIT and maybe even go with. At the very least he wanted to send everyone back to where they belonged. Well, if he was going to die, it would at least be with a nice funeral picture.
"It's not your fault."
"Huh?" Peter hadn't heard him right. Of course it was his fault, he started all of this from the moment he trusted Mysterio with FRIDAY and he knew that. God it was hard to breathe, maybe if he made it out alive he should see a doctor about it. Or a maybe a veternarian.
"It's not your fault." Strange's voice was closer, softer and Peter peaked through his arms, finding Strange crouched, and staring straight into his eyes. That awful calm expression was still on his face and Peter was starting to think it might not be his 'I-am-so-mad-my-muscles-are-overwhelmed-and-gave-up-trying-to-show-it-mad'. That it might be something else.
"No, it is, and it's okay if you kill me now, but I didn't mean for any of this to happen and I was just trying to fix it and I am sorry." Peter felt his eyes burning. Because of the sand and fire and pain. Because he was scared. Because he felt guilty. Because May was still in the back of his mind, not moving but stil warm.
"Peter, look at me." Strange grabbed his wrists, not in the harsh strangling way he expected, but something softer, like he was holding one of the artifacts from the sanctuary. "It's not your fault."
Now the burning in Peter's eyes covered his face, the tears hot as the ran down his face. And the pressure in his chest became to much and he couldn't breathe. He gasped as the tears cut through the dust and blood and grime that had collected throughout the day. Through the pain and heat covering him, Peter felt arms wrap around him, pulling him back, to hug him.
"It's not your fault Peter," Strange held him tight to his chest like Tony had when he had blipped. Strange rocked back and forth and just held on, one hand pressing on one of the hundreds of bruises he had gathered through the last day.
As those firery tears marched their path and that weight on his chest increased, he repeated those words.
"It's not your fault."