Fluff, angst & everything in between | Spider-man One-shots

Cursed to be alone [1]

TW: death

Peter silently screamed. He silently screamed till he had no breath left, and his lungs burned and his soul felt worn.

He was on his knees where he had fallen in front of the fresh new grave in the cemetery, beside all the other gravestones he knew so well. The sky above him was pouring and thundering, lightning flashing across the sky in cracks that mirrored the ones in his own heart. Tears ran down his cheeks, mixing with the rain, and he couldn't care less.

What did he have left now that Aunt May was gone as well?

Everyone he had ever loved got hurt around him.

Everyone around him died.

Because of him.

It was all his fault.

His Dad, his Mom, Uncle Ben...

and now Aunt May.

He formed his hands into fists, pressing them against his eyes, and his breathing came in harsh gasps. 

Black spots danced at the edge of his vision, and this time he screamed for real. He poured his agony and sorrow into that scream, and anyone who heard it knew he had lost someone. 

With each person in his life who had died, it left a hole in both his heart and soul.

By this point with so many of his loved ones, his family, dead and gone,

it felt like his heart and soul were barely there.

How could they be? With all these holes in them?

Peter felt like an old cloth, worn and torn through the years, ready to crumble to dust when the next wind tore through.

When, not if.

He knew it was just a matter of time before he got another person he loved killed.

He was a danger to be around. 

He lifted his head to the sky, still pouring down, his hands in fists on his knees and a burning pain in his chest. Almost like a fire, scorching him even as he shivered in cold. 

He was a curse to all those around him.

He knew what he had to do. 

As he rested his head on the ground of his dear Aunt May's fresh grave knowing in his heart that this would be the last time for a while that he would see it and mentally saying goodbye, he felt the pain in his chest squeeze his lungs, black spots dancing at the edges of his vision. He felt his breath seize in his chest, and the pain was different this time as he succumbed to the darkness, passing out and falling onto his side, unconsciously curling into himself tighter as the rain continued to hammer onto him almost as if it was punishing him as well. 

To say Tony was grieved to find Peter pass out on his Aunt's grave in the middle of a thunderstorm was an understatement but surprised he was not. He had a feeling he'd find him here.

As he knelt down beside his baby boy, he glanced at Aunt May's gravestone silently thanking her for raising him and loving him in a such a way that he would stay with her even through his exhaustion and the thunderstorm. At the same time mentally lecturing Peter for staying here and passing out during a thunderstorm!??

He picked Peter up, smiling softly when the teen curled into him, resting his head against his chest, and carried him back to the tower where he laid him in bed and whispered goodnight.

And from the doorway that night, he prayed hard that somehow things for Peter would get better. Tony would certainly try his hardest to make sure the teen know he was loved, and that he would not be going into foster care. 

Tony planned on adopting him.

Later that night, Peter awoke and quietly packed a bag with the necessities, several changes of clothes, his suit and anything else he thought he might need, while still holding back a little as he was feeling guilty about taking so much food from Mr. Stark. 

He probably won't even notice I'm gone. He might even be happy I left. Im such a burden to everyone. I would have gotten him killed one day anyways.

And with a last glance back at his room, and an ache in his being, he leapt out the window.

a/n: Part two coming soon