Gone // Spider-Man: Far From Home [Book 4]

seventeen {Third Person POV}

"Stark chose you," Fury told Peter. "He made you an Avenger. I need that. The world needs that." Peter glanced past Fury and saw Arya standing a few feet back. At the sight of her red-rimmed eyes, his own watered. "Maybe Stark was wrong. Was he?" Fury asked and Peter looked down, struggling to keep his tears from escaping. "The choice is yours." 

Fury stepped away, leaving Peter and his thoughts alone. His eyes locked with Arya's and he slowly walked toward her, but she just shook her head and whipped around. She sprinted away and disappeared into an alley.

Peter froze and his throat shut, making it hard for him to breathe.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he lowered his head. "Let's get a drink," Beck stated. 

Peter felt his brows arch into a frown and he turned around. "I'm not twenty-one!"

After locating a bar far away enough from the destruction, Mysterio ordered the two of them drinks as they sat down at the bar. 

Peter numb-mindedly stirred his drink as he watched the news report on the tv in the corner. No civilians had been hurt and the damage had stayed minimal, just the Ferris Wheel, carousel, and a few fountains had suffered. Yet, this wasn't what was on Peter's mind. All he could think of was his girlfriend, and how she was probably beyond angry with him. 

"Hey," Beck said softly, gaining Peter's attention. He placed a hand on Peter's shoulder. "We gotta celebrate. We did something good tonight." 

"Yeah..." Peter agreed quietly. He wiped a tear from under his eye. "Fury was right, you know? Tony did a lot for me and all I keep doing is hurting his daughter. I owe it to him to take care of her." 

"Do you?" Beck asked. 

"Yeah, I do. Mr Stark gave me all these opportunities and yet I screw up the biggest one he ever gave me. He wanted me to be better than him and Fury wants me to live up to that," Peter muttered.

"And what do you want?" Beck questioned.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked, finally looking at Beck.

"What do you want?" Beck repeated.

"I don't... know..." 

"C'mon, you, Peter Parker, what do you want? I know you're thinking about it." 

"I wanna go on my trip," Peter stated, turning on his stool to look at Beck. "I wanna go back on my trip with my girlfriend and take her to the top of the Eiffel Tower because that's important to her. And I don't know, give her a kiss, you know?" 

Beck made an approving noise, making Peter laugh and blush. "Shut up, man," he chuckled.

"And why can't you do that?" Beck asked then.

"Because I have too much of a responsibility," Peter answered before a Czech Republican woman interrupted, handing Peter the glasses that had unbeknownst to him fallen to the floor. "Oh, thank you," he muttered, lightly ashamed.

"What are those? Are those the..." Beck muttered.

"The EDITH glasses, yeah," Peter said. 

"It was on the floor?" Beck asked and Peter nodded softly. "Try them on, let's see what they look like." 

Peter put them on his nose and turned to Beck, who narrowed his eyes. "I actually really like them." Peter shrugged.

"Can I be completely honest with you?" Beck asked.

"Please," Peter said.

"They look really stupid." 

"Oh..." 

"Maybe they have a contact lens version of them." 

Peter took them off. "Here, you try them on." 

"No, come on." 

"Try 'em on!" 

"I don't wanna try them on." 

"Come on," Peter insisted, holding out the glasses.

Beck released a breath before taking them from Peter's hands. He put them on and looked at Peter. "What do you think, kid?" 

Peter stared at him and swallowed. 

"Mr Stark?" he asked, his voice cracking. Tony looked up, meeting the kid's eyes. "Hey. Mr Stark? Can you hear me? It's Peter," he said with a shaky voice. "We won, Mr Stark."

"Dad, come on," Arya pleaded. "We won."

"We won, Sir. You did it," Peter said quietly. A gentle hand took his arm and pulled him back. "I'm sorry, Tony." He stood back, covering his mouth to mute his sobs. His knees gave in and he dropped himself in the dirt, lowering his head as looking at his mentor hurt too much. 

Peter blinked and looked down. "For the next Tony Stark, I trust you," he mumbled to himself. "For the next Tony Stark, I trust you," he spoke more clearly.

"What?" asked Beck.

"Mr Stark left me a message with those glasses. For the next Tony Stark, I trust you." 

"I'm still not following. How many lemonades have you had?" 

"He knew every mistake I ever made. Okay? So he must've known I was not ready for something like this." 

"Then why would he give it to you?" 

"Because maybe he didn't trust me to have EDITH so he trusted me to pick who should," he explained, making Beck frown. "It makes so much more sense. He always knew I would do what's right, and he's not gonna give them to Fury because Fury would just give himself EDITH." 

"You're probably right about that," Beck agreed. "But why not give them to Arya?" 

"She already has FRIDAY," Peter said. "And the world needs the next Iron Man and it's not gonna be me. I'm just a sixteen-year-old kid from Queens. It needs to be an adult with experience and that's good like Tony Stark. Like you." 

"No, Peter, come on." Beck took off the glasses. "No." 

Peter opened his mouth to say something but just closed it again. He grabbed the glasses and put them on. "EDITH?" he asked.

"Hello, Peter," she answered.

"Hi, yeah, ehm..." He hesitated for a second. "I'd like to transfer your control over to Quentin Beck." 

"Peter, what are you doing?" Beck asked.

"Doing the right thing," Peter told him. 

"Any transfer will require confirmation," EDITH spoke.

"Stark gave you the glasses," Beck objected.

"Stark gave me a choice," Peter shot back. "It's my choice to make, okay? So I'm gonna make it. Look, you're a soldier, a leader. You stopped the Elementals and you saved the world, okay? He'd want you to have them." 

"Waiting for confirmation," EDITH said. 

"Confirm," Peter said, taking off the glasses and holding them out to Beck, who still held a hesitant look on his face. "Welcome to the Avengers." 

Beck sighed before he took the glasses from Peter's hand and put them on.

Peter smiled softly. "They look good on you."

Beck nodded, smiling, and held out his hand. Peter shook his hand. "Thank you," Beck said. "It's an honour." 

Peter smiled. "Yeah." He stood up, heaving his backpack on his shoulder. "Mr Stark would've really liked you." 

"Where you headed?" Beck asked.

"I'm gonna go find Arya and try to fix everything," he said, more assured than before. 

"Good luck, kid. I give you about a 50/50 chance, you're pretty awkward," Beck joked and Peter couldn't help but laugh. 

"See you later, man," he said, walking to the door of the bar. 

"See you," Beck called and Peter exited the bar, on his quest to fix his relationship and hopefully not have Arya break up with him because if she did, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.