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Peter is a little shocked with the abrupt end of the call, but he’s still so happy and everything is good. His mouth turns itself into the shape of a smile involuntarily, and as he puts his homework away he can hear the news blaring in the other room.
It’s a little bit of a damper to his good mood- the loud noises and yelling of the reporters is too pitch-perfect with his enhanced senses, and so he stands and heads to turn off the racket. He’s about halfway out his door when an overwhelming feeling of dread seeps through him, sinking into his bones and pulling him to the floor.
Something was very, very wrong. Peter lay stunned on the hardwood floor for a full minute, gasping for breath as anxiety washed over him and kept him bolted to the ground. His spider-senses had never reacted this badly to anything - he didn’t even know something like this was possible, but whatever it was, Peter needed to find out immediately.
He thanked the invisible spider-gods that Aunt May was working a late shift at work and threw on his suit. With each passing second the pounding intensity in his head only got stronger, and it pressed against the back of his spine, telling him where to go.
With every swing of web from building to building the senses became more and more vague, but after a while he didn’t even feel like he needed it, because the crashes and bangs of battle rang out just around the block.
The first Avenger he sees is the Hulk, and the giant green creature merely nods in acknowledgement of him before going back to destroying the creepy purple alien things that keep blending into walls. Peter is a lot more alert after that, because Mr. Stark said the villain's minions were dangerous and by the looks of them, he was right.
They scuttle up and around the taller skyscrapers of the block, and for every one that Peter manages to defeat another two pop back into its place. His senses still haven’t stopped screaming at him, and the pull in his spine returns full force. He leaves his current duel and ignores as the creature hisses angrily. As he follows the feeling Peter hears Captain America screaming into his comms, and can’t help but stop and eavesdrop.
“Stark, I need backup!” He mashes the heads of two monsters together with a shield-hand combo and fierce expression, and Peter is about to move on when he sees worry fall over the idol of America’s face.
“Stark? Tony, answer me! Where are you? Natasha, do you have eyes on Tony’s whereabouts?” Steve is forced to move into a corner while he’s distracted by the missing team member, and Peter swoops in before he’s over-run.
“What happened to- what happened to Mr. Stark? Is he alright?” Panic seeped into the edge of his voice. Steve startles a little and turns to Peter with a glare, as if about to give him a lecture on why he shouldn’t be here. Peter was readying his opposing argument when he heard the soft sputtering of an engine somewhere.
It shouldn’t have meant anything; Plenty of cars were bound to be annihilated in this battle. What bothered him was the sound of it: not big, and hefty, or even that loud really. He realized that it was definitely not something he was supposed to hear- the Captain was doing a multitask session of lecturing him and punching aliens, but Peter could barely hear him over the whine of what he knew was the arc reactor.
Peter didn’t know how he found him. His body had moved on autopilot since hearing the arc reactor dying, and when his feet hit the ruins of a building, scattered in a quiet alleyway away from the fight, he was more than a little confused.
Mostly, though, he was terrified. Because the other mountain of rubble there wasn’t grey with cement dust and granite. It was clumped and scarlet with free-flowing blood- way too much to be healthy or safe and oh god he needed to breathe this wasn’t good breathe Peter breathe.
His eyes traveled up the pile and onto the Iron Man armor, and a sob escaped his lips.
“Mr. Stark?”
Tony didn’t reply.
Peter was all too aware of the silence ringing in his ears. Silence was peace, and relaxation, and- and silence was the lack of blue light and cold and death and why wasn’t Tony breathing? He scrambled towards the still body of his mentor, breath coming in quick bursts.
His body felt like it was moving too slow, as if the entire world was speeding past him and everything was slipping away and if he just moved a little faster he might catch up. Unsurprisingly, he found himself staring at Tony in disbelief. The man was in his suit, faceplate up, and there was a heartbreakingly content face plastered on.
“Tony?” Peter couldn’t possibly raise his voice above a whisper. The spider-sense leading him across the city was absent, and the young hero found himself wishing that it would carry him away somewhere else, as if that made the still body in front of him less real somehow.
He realizes that the phone call was a goodbye, and it only makes matters worse. Tony had been saying his last words, and Peter- what had Peter done? Talked about the Death Star ? His teeth clench repeatedly, grinding together like fingernails on a chalkboard.
Thick, fat tears slid from his eyes, getting caught on the mask and dissipating as soon as they appeared. Rationally, Peter knew it was over. He knew that all opportunities- all the wonderful moments he was going to have- were all gone. But a small part of him was still screaming bloody murder, and he let that out, let it consume him and blind him from the obvious.
“Help! Help me, I need- Iron Man is down! Please help!” Peter shot up to the roof, screaming hoarsely and ignoring the various voice-cracks punctuating his speech. Enemy and ally heads alike turned, and while the aliens seemed to ignore him, Captain America looked up immediately, anguish written blatantly on his features.
The boy watched stonily as the patriotic figure leapt towards him, sprinting to the alleyway Peter was above with inhuman haste. He heard the garbled yell the man let escape from his lips, and then he jumped down from his perch, heart wavering with grief.
“I’m so sorry,” Steve manages, looking for all the world like someone had kicked his favorite puppy. Peter took those kind, heartfelt words, and let himself break. Before he knew it he was sobbing, clinging to the man’s uniform uncontrollably as horror and disbelief wracked his body.
Somehow, Peter took the time to thank his luck that he had kept his mask on, through the tears and snot and gross wailing. He realized that the other Avengers had gathered around them, each of their faces displaying their own feelings of loss for their team member.
It was stupid, and dumb, and heartbreaking in the worst of ways, but Peter felt more like he was a part of their team like ever before, and he realized that Tony wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.