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Peter had absolutely no clue how he let this happen. He had cornered a mugger — a regular mugger! Nothing else! How had this happened?! — when he felt a sharp pain in his lower stomach.
When he looked down, he found that a knife was sticking out of his gut. His eyes widened beneath the mask, his grip weakening as the shock and pain hit him, full force. The mugger took it as an advantage to twist Peter’s arm. He pulled the knife out of Peter’s side in one move and ran, making it out of the alley, leaving the boy completely alone. Peter yelped in pain at the knife being taken out, blinking back tears of agony.
“No!” Peter yelled, but when he took a step toward the entrance of the alley, he nearly screamed in pain.
“Peter,” Karen’s voice was the only thing he heard in his panic. “you have sustained trauma to your right side. Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark?”
“No, no-” Peter repeats weakly, as if it’s the only word he knew.
He stumbles toward the wall and leans against it. He puts his hands over the stab wound, slowly sinking to the floor without even realizing it.
“Agh,” he groans faintly, tilting his head back, squeezing his eyes shut in pain.
It was the dead of the night, and nobody was around. He couldn’t go to a hospital — he was enhanced. Plus, his identity would get outed. He couldn’t afford that.
Did he even want to survive this?
But he couldn’t go to Mr. Stark, not after the Vulture. He felt ashamed, embarrassed. He was too weak to be a superhero, and when Mr. Stark realized it… Peter couldn’t even think about it.
But Mr. Stark was a literal genius. He’d notice all the details. He’d realize the full picture immediately. He was most likely already noticing it.
Peter’s breathing grew heavier.
He was going to die here. No other option.
He opened his eyes to see the information from the HUD, flashing bright red in alarm.
3:47am.
He was going to die, and nobody would save him.
He looked up again, just staring at the stars. He was going to die. But wasn’t it deserved, after all that he had done? Was this not his fate? He knew this would happen when he had chosen to become Spider-Man.
I’m going to die.
I’m going to die, and that is okay.
I’m going to die, because I deserve it.
His body grew numb, his thoughts incoherent.
As he closed his eyes for the last time, he saw a blur of red and gold.
He lost consciousness as the warm embrace of Death stole him away from the world, leading him elsewhere.
— END —