Whumptober 2021

Please...

A/N- Might have stolen this from my other book. But it fits very well. 

0 "Get it out" 0

-Third Person P.O.V-

The scream tore through Peters throat, ripping at his vocal cords, shredding it to pieces and breaking hearts at the pain that is felt throughout the scream.

The spear sits painfully through his chest, tearing endlessly at the blood vessels and muscles that make Peter, well, Peter.

The blood drips just as fast as the tears, blood mixes with the salty water that flows from his eyes, settling onto the hard ground beneath him.

The pain is white hot, never ending, searing it's way around him.

Peter can hear distant shouts as the world blurs and he feels as though he's falling.

The sorrowfulness accompanies the pain, like a duo, he knows he will die, nothing and no one can save him. As much as he wants to bed and plead, he knows deep down it's too late.

Peters eyes blur with the constant stream of tears and the pain blacked out some of his vision around the edges.

The world seems to turn silent, but not the nice kind, the kind that has a white noise along with it.

The scary kind of silence that holds more power than a scream, he hears nothing yet hears everything.

The floor feels rough; uncomfortable and the world feels like it's falling all around him, dropping away and leaving him alone and dying.

The pain morphs the deadly silent world around me, contouring everything into dark and light splotches.

Sound starts to reach his ears, but it's distant and surreal.

Something hovers over Peter, who can only just see it, with the darkness encircling his vision from the outside.

Blinking sluggishly he tries to focus, the thing in front of him lets out a sob, or at least he think that's what it was.

Slowly the world focuses a little more and Peter can see the thing in front of him is his dad.

Peter tries to speak, to cry for help, to be saved.

But instead a choked breath is all that is received and blood dripping from his parted lips.

Peter can make out the tears falling rapidly from his dads eyes as he kneels beside Peter, a shaking hand reaching toward his own and grabbing it tentatively.

"I'm here Bambi. You gotta hold on for me."

His voice sounds scared, maybe a little hopeful, but as Peter looks into his eyes he can see the horrible acceptance, that nothing can save me.

"Get it out," Peter whispered, blood falling from his lips even more as he struggles to pull in air.

As much as Tony wishes he could, he knows if he does. It would probably kill Peter instantly.

The pain comes in waves, blacking Peters vision when it becomes too much, the earth taunting him with death.

Heaven and earth having a tug o war with him, fighting for me to stay or leave.

Peter is snapped back to reality as a trembling hand touches his cheek, holding his head lightly, having no strength himself to hold it up.

A calloused thumb brushes away the few stray tears that fall from Peters dying eyes.

"You have to fight for me. Please bubba," Tony pleads from above Peter, he tries to reply but the pain is like the ocean.

It is dragging him down, drowning him and suffocating him.

Shakily Peter lifts his weary head and look toward the accusing weapon, the spear lays there, blood oozing around it, staining the ground around him.

He knows it's gone straight through him, Peter can feel the coldness seeping into his veins and the little amount of blood left feeling the air from the hole in my chest.

"I don't wanna go," he croaks out, pain lacing every word.

Tony cries harder and nods saying, "I know Petey. You'll be okay, alright you're fine Bambi, you're alright," he replies, trying to soothe Peters dying soul.

But he knows Tony is lying, he can feel it, he can feel the death creeping closer and closer.

Peter nods slightly, only agreeing to make Tony feel a little more at ease.

Everyone knows Peters fate, from the moment they all heard the gut wrenching scream.

Peter lifts his arms, trying not to sob as he makes a slight grabby motion with his hands.

Tony notices and understands immediately.

He carefully pulls Peter into him, the spear moves painfully within and he bites back a scream rising in his throat.

Peter leans his head against his arc reactor and he cards his hand through my hair, he can feel his breath leaving his body, only just being able to drag enough air into his lungs.

The darkness in Peters eyes is racing in, the pain increasing with every agonising breath.

With a cry Tony says "It's okay buddy, you can let go. Rest Bambi, it's okay bubba, it's okay."

Peter shuts his eyes, and peace washes over him, in the distance Peter hear a cry and someone say "I love you so much. I'm so proud of you".

The darkness swallows him and Peter can feel nothing, he takes one last breath, breathing out an almost silent "I love you," before there is no more air.

Tony looks down at his lifeless son, tears falling down his broken face.

He holds Peter close and sees one last tear drop from the dead hero in his arms, a tear from an angel, Tony's angel.

As Tony wipes away his sons last tear he whispers, "I lost my angel. I'm so sorry".

He cradles his son close, cursing himself and the spear, still sat comfortably in the broken child's chest.

"I'm so sorry my angel," he cries out to his son.