I'm Sorry

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Peter Parker could remember clearly the way the battle had stopped. How enemies had turned to ash one after another. How the world seemed to stop turning. How Thanos himself had faded away with that look of absolute defeat on his face.

He could also remember Tony Stark. His mentor. His father figure. His dad. The seventeen year old could remember plain as day seeing him weirld the gauntlet from across the field moments before. Saw how the amount of power had forced him to his knees as it traveled along his body.

If only he'd been faster, he thought, remembering how he had weaved between chitauri and heroes alike to try and get to him. To stop him. To take the gauntlet. To take the weight. To touch him. To do something.

He hadn't been fast enough, and the snap had reverberated through his ear drums.

He didn't remember when he reached Tony. Everything was tunnel vision until he was less than two feet away, yet unable to do a thing. His mentor's face and right arm was a gruesome sight. His arm seemed to have melded the red and gold armor that once shined and his face was burned. The pain in his eyes, though, was the worst of it.

"Mr. Stark? Hey, can you hear me? It's Peter.."

He talked to him. He pleaded with him. He needed him.

"We won, Mr. Stark. We won and you did it, sir."

What was he going to do without Tony Stark in his life? The man who took Spider-Man from a local name to someone who was known around the world. The man who gave him a good, million dollar suit so he wouldn't get hurt as easily. The man who cracked jokes and made everything better.

"You did it. I'm sorry..."

The man who helped Peter believe in himself.

"Tony..."

War Machine, James Rhodes he recalled, had pulled him back and then Pepper Potts (Stark?) was there, comforting mister Stark where Peter couldn't.

Five years. It was all crashing down on him now. He knew nothing of what had happened over the past five years. The past 1,825 days. The past 43,800 hours. It was all a mystery to him, yet he wasn't twenty two. He wasn't an adult. He was still a teenager going far too in over his head and needing someone who knew the super hero world to guide him.

That person had been Tony Stark. Invincible, untouchable, impenetrable, Tony Stark....

.... who currently sat, dying in front of him, with nothing he could do to help him.

His and his mentor's eyes locked for a fraction of a second. Peter could see the life training out of the brown irises, his skin ashen pale and the smell of acid in the air. Tony looked at Pepper and he watched as Tony's hand wrapped around hers, just over the Arc Reactor that was flickering like mad.

Peter knew the significance of this. He was one of the few who knew how the arc reactor had formerly kept the man alive for five years. He didn't need it now, but it was flickering with his dying breaths.

Slow breath in. Stuttering breath out. His heart beat was erratic and slowing down every second, Peter's enhanced hearing barely able to hear it over the thick, sad silence of the battle field.

Strange, he thought, suddenly having the idea. He could- he was a doctor. He could control the time stone, couldn't he? This couldn't be the only way. This just could not-

His eyes found the sorcerer's. A few yards away, he stood, haggard, weighed down, and looking devastatingly hopeless. He caught Peter's eyes, but was quick to bow his head. Was that regret? Sadness?

"Pep..." the dying brunette choked out passed the pain that was surely consuming him.

Peter turned back to his mentor and Pepper, despite War Machine trying to turn him away from the scene. He could sense everyone around him, but his main focus was on Tony. The word he had wanted to say for a while was now on the tip of his tongue: Dad.

He opened his mouth only to hear the chilling, heavy words.

"You can rest now."

The last of the light drained from Tony's eyes. His charred hand fell away from Pepper's and his eyes stared vacantly passed them at nothing.

And with that light, a piece of Peter's heart left with it.

So many people had left him, Tony couldn't- his dad couldn't-

Pepper began to cry, sobbing and letting tears flow freely down her cheeks. Peter was just frozen, help in Rhodey's grasp. Water hit his hair and he knew his mentor's best friend was crying. He heard a small wail in the distance, watched as one by one everyone fell to a kneel on the field that had turned to chaos, then a mourning ground.

An Avenger was gone.

Mister Stark was gone.

Tony was gone.

Dad was gone.

Memories flashed through Peter's mind. Happy and sad. He remembered trying to replicate the stride of Mr. Stark, his confidence and elegance of a cat no matter the terrain.

He remembered building in the lab with Tony. Any idea, no matter how crazy, was tried. It led to ridiculous moments, including one where Tony was chased by Dum-E with a fire extinguisher and Peter had somehow webbed himself to the ceiling. The laughter still echoes in his ears.

He remembered being comforted after a particularly bad nightmare when staying over at the compound. It was vague with unawareness, but far from forgotten. He remembered the soothing words that lured him back to the land of sleep, safe in the arms of someone he trusted and not under millions of pounds of rubble.

That was when Tony became Dad, yet he never got a chance to tell him so.

A sob ripped out of his throat and he turned, pressing his head into the metal chest plate that greeted him. Tears flowed freely as his heart twisted and turned, clenched with grief and a new hole made by someone else leaving him.

A bit of wind hit his face and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He looked to where the wind came from, having to wiggle a little in the metal hug that had encased him. The sun was just going down, lighting the smokey sky in a beautiful array of colors that felt almost inappropriate for the mood.

He pulled in a deep breath of crisp air that was cut short by another sob ripping it's way through his throat.

I'm sorry, Dad.

A familiar voice emerged in his head with words he'd heard before, but it didn't feel like a memory. It was like he was hearing then again.

Not your fault, kid.

I'm going to go hide now.

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