Work Text:
Who would've guessed? May Parker, Peter's last family member, was destined to die in a car crash. His last family member. He didn't have anyone else. Not a single one. Right now, Peter sat at the top of the tallest building he could find. It was around 83 stories high, and he sat at the ledge with his feet dangling above the ground below.
He looked over to his phone that obsessively buzzed by his side.
*Incoming call from Tony Stark*
After it finally stopped ringing after what felt like an eternity, he caught a brief glimpse at the notifications on his screen.
* 23 Missed calls*
Peter took a deep breath and swept his gaze over Queens. It was beautiful at this time of night. The lights of the city made it look like something from a dream. The fresh, cold air of the night left a pleasant tingle in his lungs. He especially loved it because, at this height, all of the noise was dimmed to a simple echo. He often came here when he was stressed because he could easily zone everything out and just focus on the world passing by him. Tonight, however, he couldn't indulge in the simple things. He came here with a darker purpose.
Peter's mind flooded with memories of May. He let a small smile cross over his lips. But then the memories morphed into the ones from earlier in the night. He was out Spidermanning when the back of his neck let out a sharp pain and every single hair on his skin stood on end. He could hear the deafening screech of tires skidding, being amplified by his spidey senses. He whipped his head around to see something that would ruin his life. May's car. Crushed like a tin can by a truck that had a man that was obviously drunk in it. He was gonna be sick. In his Aunt's car was a body. A mangled, torn up body. He swung away as fast as he could.
Tears began to slip down his hot cheeks as he cried at the thought.
She is gone, he thought. I could have stopped it so easily.... but I didn't. This is all my fault. Peter's breaths became more and more shallow and his heat was pounding out of his chest. All. My. Fault.
He looked back to his phone that was still buzzing erratically. He simply took it in his hand and crushed it without having to strain a single muscle.
Peter looked over to the bag of things he had brought with him and pulled out what he wanted. The gun. He felt powerful holding it in his hands even though he could easily do twice the damage than it could. All the same, he held it with a firm grip.
As he did, his mind drifted from May to Tony.
Tony had done so much for Peter. He was his mentor and, most importantly, the father figure that he barely ever had. He gripped the gun tighter in his grasp. He had let him down. Why would someone like Tony actually care about him? It was useless to think that the father-son feeling was felt in Tony too. Peter was just that annoying kid that he had to deal with now.
Peter lifted the gun higher until the end was pressed against his temple. He had to do this. He clicked it off safety.
And like clockwork, he heard the whirring of the repulsors in the distance. He had about 20 seconds until Tony would land behind him. Peter had to hurry. Pull the trigger. Do it for May. Do it for Tony. For Ben, for mom and dad. For everyone. He pressed it harder to his temple. Then he heard the sound of metal clanging behind him.
Time's up.
"PETER! STOP"
Suddenly, Peter's spidey sense rang in his ears and tingles ran through his neck. He sprang to his feet and moved to the side, dodging the hand that desperately tried to grab the gun from his grasp. Peter had to do this. Nothing was going to stop him.
The gun was then pointed directly at Tony. He must have exited his suit when he landed because he was unprotected with his suit of armour standing further back. Tony raised his hands in surrender.
"Kid, what are you doing??" His face had pain and concern painted all over it.
"It doesn't matter what I'm doing, leave!! I don't want you here!"
"Peter, please. Just listen to me, put down the gun."
Peter hesitated. He came to a rooftop for a reason, not just for show. He knew that this would happen but he was smart. He had a plan B. Nothing was going to stop him.
Slowly, Peter lowered the gun and put it on the concrete of the roof. Tony let out a sigh of relief. He had obviously forgotten that Peter still stood at the very edge of one of the tallest buildings in Queens.
"Whatever you say, Mr. Stark." He looked the older man dead in the eyes and saw the desperation for his child to be safe in them. Peter wasn't too sure anymore. How could he do this to Tony? He averted his gaze to the ground below, taking a look at the world which was, once again, passing by him without a care. He had to do this. Nothing was going to stop him.
He took one last look at his father figure before falling backwards off of the building.
In the distance, he heard someone yelling his name but he couldn't focus on anything except the sensation of falling with nothing to catch him and the anticipation of the cement below. The cold air whipped through his dark brown curls as he looked at the sky above. For once, he could actually see stars. It was pretty rare since he lived in a bright city that was constantly illuminated. But he could see them. He was glad that his final moments would be something he has always wanted to see. It made him happy.
That happiness wasn't long lasted though. His feeling of falling was cut off by metal gripping under his arms and yanking him upwards. More hot tears began to fall from his eyes as he put together what had just happened.
Before he knew it, he realised what he had just done. He had someone else who cared about him and just tried to leave. Peter was now back on the rooftop, on the ground, sobbing into his sleeve.
"Kid?! Are you okay?" Tony's voice was filled with panic as tears fell from his face too.
"Underoos, please say something. Anything." Peter looked up, his wet, red, light brown puppy dog eyes staring straight into Tony's.
"I'm so s-sorry." was all Peter could get himself to say.
"Peter, it's okay, you're safe."
Tony slowly walked over to his crying child, knelt down and wrapped his arms around the younger of the two.
"I got you, kid."
He would never let go.