Mistakes Were Made
Peter doesn’t know what to do, he just knows it needs to stop. Grave after grave, after grave. He’s gotten tired of burying his friends.
Uncle Ben was the first. Well, the first that was Peter’s fault. His parents went before that. But in that case, there was nothing Peter could have done. With Uncle Ben, Peter could’ve stopped the robber. He could’ve saved him.
Gwen Stacy was next. Terminal velocity plus a webline. If Peter hadn’t used his web like that, if he made a net instead, he could’ve saved her. If he jumped after her instead of relying on his web shooters. If, if, if. She’s gone now. Its too late.
Norman Osborn wasn’t ever Peter’s friend. But he was Harry’s father. He died because Peter moved. Because Peter was impulsive. Because Peter didn’t grab the glider. Because Peter was more concerned about his own safety then someone else’s.
Harry Osborn was the fourth. He became the second Green Goblin, following in his late father’s footsteps. If Peter told Harry who he was, if Peter had saved Norman, if Peter realized Harry was the Hobgoblin... but its too late now. Harry overdosed on the drug that allowed him become the Green Goblin.
Aunt May was the most recent. She died of cancer. Peter had an idea for a cure. He could’ve tried it. But he was too scared of the effects it would cause. So he let the doctors try and save her. She died because Peter has anxiety.
“Hey, Spider-Kid! You okay?” A voice asks. It seems to be coming from down a long tunnel.
“Let me die in peace.” Peter isn’t sure how the words go past his lips, but he doesn’t really care. He doesn’t deserve to live. All he does is hurt the people he cares about. The world will be a better place without him in it.
“Not gonna happen, kid.” The voice denies. Hmm... sounds like its a guy. Adult.
Peter doesn’t reply. If he stays quiet, maybe he’ll just drift off. Drift off and never wake up...
“Hey, kid! No going to sleep, okay? I need you to keep talking.” The voice jerks Peter back from the cusp of unconsciousness.
“I’m not a kid.” Peter complies with the person’s order. Talking. Peter can do that.
“I’m scared of the dark. It makes me feel helpless, even though I have all of my powers. I’m not sure why. Its a phobia. I think Jameson has arachnophobia. He doesn’t like spiders. Or me. Especially not me. I don’t like me either. I’m nothing like my role model.” Peter rambles. He can hear faint noises of people talking. They sound worried. Huh.
“My favorite superhero is Tony Stark. Who’s yours?” Peter asks.
“Iron Man.” The voice replies, sounding somewhat amused.
“Tony Stark is better. Iron Man is a suit. Tony Stark is the man who uses it. Saying Iron Man’s your favorite is like saying Captain America’s shield is your favorite.” Peter fires back.
“I, uh... I can’t really argue with you, bud.” The man chuckles.
“S’cause I’m right. Who are you, by the way?” Peter asks. He has no idea who saved him... or what they saved him from.
“No one important.” The man answers.
“You sound important...” Peter protests. But the man doesn’t reply.
“Hey, kid. My name is Steve. We need to get you out of here, okay?” A new voice joins the conversation.
“M’kay. Can I go to sleep?” Peter asks the self-proclaimed ‘Steve’.
“No. I’m sorry, I’m going to need you to stay awake for a little while longer.” Steve sighs. Peter feels himself being lifted up, and a sharp stab of pain to go with it.
“Don’t take off my mask.” Peter orders.
“I promise no one will.” Steve assures gently. He sounds trustworthy.
“D’you pinky promise?” Peter asks. He can feel himself going unconscious.
“I, uh... yes. I do.”
“Good.” Peter mutters. Then sleep over takes him, and the world fades to silence.
Peter stirs. He’s curled up in a bed. He lays still, trying to take stock of his situation. He’s not restrained in anyway, and voices are having a conversation. Peter tunes in. Well, to what he can hear, anyway.
“- he’s lucky to even be alive-”
“- the shrapnel grazed by his eye, he’s not going to be able to see for at least a month-”
“- should be waking up soon-”
Peter opens his eyes a sliver. All he can see is the white, fluffy sheets on the bed. Blurrily, too. Like he’s looking through someone else’s prescription glasses.
So he sits up. “Um, hello?”
The first voice he hears is one he can place- Steve. “I’m sorry. Dr. Banner had to take off your mask so we could see what was wrong.”
Peter glares at the blurry form. “Who are you guys, anyway?Wait- Doctor Banner? Like, the renowned physicist?!”
“Um, yes. That would be me.” A blurry figure steps forward. “Your eyes are open. Tell me, can you see?”
“Everything is blurry.” Peter admits. “I can’t really make much out.”
“And as for who we are...” The voice comes from the other side of the room, and Peter’s eyes widen. He knows that voice. “We’re the Avengers.”
There’s silence as Peter processes this. And then-
“I didn’t do it!” A voice yells.
“Clint.” Another voice- a girls- sighs.
Peter blinks. “Uh, are you sure about that?”
(944 words. I don't think I'll update this one much, but I felt like publishing this part. Its just to help get rid of my writers block. XD)
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