Peter Parker and Tony Stark Whump Shots

Alternate Reality Death

(What would have happened if Peter was the one to snap instead of Tony?-)

"I just wanted to be like you." The words sting like knives coming from the sixteen year old boy in front of them. He was looking right up at the one person he was closest to. Tony. Peter had taken the gauntlet and snapped his fingers. This wasn't supposed to happen. All of this, the time travel, the fight, it was all meant to get him back. To let him live a happy and long life. It had just begun, he was just a kid. And now, he's sitting against a pile of rubble, dying. And there's nothing anyone can do about it.
A crowd begins to gather around, teary eyes and shocked faces look on in horror as the kid sits still. His face is covered in black markings, almost like veins, left from the power of the snap.
"No... No... This can't be happening..." Tony gasps, he leans over the boy and cradles him in his arms.
"It's okay..." Peter replies, looking up to him with loving eyes and a sad smile, "We saved them, Mr. Stark."
"No! You were supposed to come home! You have a sister..." Tears stream down his face and he leans his forehead against Peter's.
"A sister?" Peter whispers, "I've always wanted a little sister."
"Please..." Tony begs in a quiet voice, "Please don't leave me like this..."
"It's okay. I'm okay. Tell May and Ned that I love them." He seems almost unbothered, the shock is so bad that he looks calm. Or maybe a child has come to terms that he's going to die. This wasn't right. It wasn't fair. He shouldn't have to die for this, it should've been Tony.
"No... You'll tell them yourself, okay?" The older man takes his face into his hands lovingly, eyes puffy from all the crying.
"I love you." Peter smiles, he takes a few deep breaths before he has to lay his head back against the rubble. He's losing his strength.
The people in the crowd have a mix of different emotions, some are crying, some are covering their faces and some just stare on at the sight.
"I love you, kid. More than you'll ever know. You're my son. I've always loved you." Tony kisses him on the head and continues to cry.
"I'm scared, Mr. Stark. I'm scared to die." Peter coughs, spitting up some blood over his shoulder.
"It's gonna be alright. You can see your mom and dad. You're gonna be with your family." Tony reassured him quietly, taking his hand into his own.
"You're wrong, Mr. Stark. You're wrong." Peter relaxes his body, his eyes start to feel heavy and his breathing becomes irregular.
"You're my family."
His eyes close slowly as he lets out his final breath.
Muffled sobs and gasps are all that can be heard, but there's one person who is louder than the rest.
Tony's begging and praying to anyone, knowing that they can't save him. He clutches onto the body in front of him, he wipes the hair out of Peter's face and lifts him into his arms. The walk over the once-filled battle field is long and tiring, but he won't let anyone else take a turn of lifting the kid. When they finally reach a clearing, they lean Peter gently on the grass, and everyone else surrounds his body, kneeling down as a sign of respect.
"You were wrong kid, you're not like me." Tony sobs, "You're so much better. And I will miss you so much.

I'm sorry..."