I'm Sorry

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   Peter stopped being the bubbly Peter he used to be. It all happened after homecoming. Sure, the bad guy was gone, but he felt burdened with this guilt. He felt like everything was his fault; he didn't know why, but it was a reacquiring feeling he had since his uncle died. He also felt guilty that he took away someone father. This guilt caused his to stop being a kid like he was supposed to be and he became this robotic creature that no one seemed to noticed.

   He stopped hanging out with Ned and MJ. He rarely spoke to his aunt. He hardly showed up at the "Stark Internship". He stopped texting Happy. He isolated himself within his room. The only time he went out was for school and when he would go on patrol.

   He laid in his bed and waited. Peter was going to go patrolling, but he had to wait for his aunt to sleep. He waited and waited. Finally, he heard the lights go off and his aunt slipping in her covers. Her light snores filled the air.

   He put on his suit and slowly crawled out the window; gently closing it behind him. He swung away, feeling tired.

   He saw a man getting robbed by this little kid. Which shocked Peter. He landed behind the teenage boy.

   "You don't want to do this" He said before pain hit his side.

   The boy shot him. Then he ran away in fear of what he did. Peter was left with the almost robbed man.

   "Are you okay Spider-Man?" The guy asked.

   "Yeah. Just go incase he comes back again" Knowing the boy wouldn't come back. The teenager had fear in his eyes just like him. Except, he couldn't run away from his fear.

  "Thank you" Peter watched the man leave the dark alley. He placed pressure against the bullet wound to try to stop the bleeding.

   "Do you want me to notify Mr. Stark? It would be advice to do so" The AI asked. Peter thought about how Karen was so polite. She was the only one that truly cared for him.

    "It's oka-" Peter fell into a black void. The pain gotten to much to handle for him.

   He woke up a bright light in his face. Peter knew he was in Bruce's medical bay. He just laid there, relaxed. Not caring it he was just in his boxers. His suit laid on a stool, bloodied. Watching Bruce do his medical thing. He was glad he wasn't a cutter. He was depressed, but never felt the need to cut.

   "You okay, Peter?" Bruce asked. He began to pull out the bullet, surprised Peter didn't yell or groan in pain like the others.

   "Yeah" Peter was okay to an extent. He closed his eyes and when he opened them Bruce was already done. Peter must have fallen asleep and didn't notice. He sat up, watched Bruce leave the bay. Peter knew Mr. Stark would come and yell at him.

   "Speak of the devil" Peter mumbled as Tony walked in, rage on his face.

   "You could have gotten yourself killed. If it wasn't for Karen, you would be dead!" Peter listened not really caring if he was dead. It would bring him peace and everyone else peace.

   "But I'm not, so" Tony was surprised at the kid's attitude. Peter was always so polite and well mannered. That's what Steve liked about Peter, his politeness. Steve would smile whenever Peter was around. He would mention that Peter had an old soul. Peter never knew what he meant by that.

   "If you died who would your aunt have!?" He yelled. Peter tunes out almost the whole conversation. He only came back to reality when he heard Tony yelling about his aunt. Peter got up not caring how bad his side was in pain.

   "Don't you dare bring aunt May into this!" Peter yelled getting closer to collapsing from the pain, but he stood his ground.

   "What happened to the other Peter? The one that had no attitude? The one that didn't get themself hurt? The perfect one?" Tony stopped knowing he crossed the line. He felt so bad when he saw a pained look on Peter's face. Shit, Tony thought to himself.

   Peter grabbed his suit and put it on not caring it was still had blood on it. He could care less right now. He just needed to leave.

   "Dead" Peter swung out of Stark Tower knowing he wasn't needed anymore since he wasn't the "perfect one."

   He swung to the tallest building wanted to jump off of it. He was tired of having to do everything with no thanks. He was tired of being compared to the other Avengers. When he barely messed up they always yelled at him; blaming him for their mistakes.

   He sat on top of the sky scraper and took of his mask. He finally cried. He hasn't cried in a long time. The last time he cried was Ben's funeral. He watched the the people below him. They looked so small and wanted.

   The sky darkened as it began to rain. He looked up and let the rain fall on his face, mixing with his tears. He was ready to jump. Ready to take the pain away. He got up, putting the mask back on.

   "You seem distressed. Want me to call Mr. Stark?" Karen said.

   "No. I'm okay"

   "You don't seem okay. You want me to notify someone else?" She asked again.

   "No, it's fine"

   "Could you do me a favor?" He asked the bot.

   "Yes, what's the favor?" Peter looked at how high he was. Panic ensued. He calmed himself down thinking about Ben and his parents. He would finally see them again.

   "Record a message" Peter commanded.

   "Message recording" Karen said.

   "Hey aunt May. I'm s-sorry, but I have to do this. I-It's just to much stress sometimes. I've been keeping a secret from you and I'm sorry. I'm your friendly neighborhood S-Spider-Man" He chuckled. Tears ran down his face blinding his vision.

   "I just want to see them again" He finally broke down.

   "Stop recording" He whispered.

"Recording stopped" Karen whispered. Peter smiled at Karen's little whisper. Sometimes she would think there playing a game. She would mimic Peter's voice just to make him smile.

   "Bye Karen"

   "Bye Peter"

   Peter jumped. He felt wind cloak his body. Trying to save him from the ground beneath. But the wind wasn't strong enough.

   He hit the pavement. Blood trickling around him, mixing with the rain. He heard pedestrians screaming. He smiled in his last moments knowing he would see them again.

   Tony was in his suit, flying towards Peter. Trying to save him from his death, but he was to late.

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