Ch 116 gone

"Mr. Parker? Mr. Parker? Peter!"

I blinked, pulling my attention back to the principal. His eyes were piercing into mine, flickering with annoyance and distaste at my apparent apathy. His voice continued to drone on about falling grades and failing potential. Tears clogged my eyes, yet they weren't for plummeting grades or potential.

They were for the portrait of Tony Stark on the far wall.

I twisted the screwdriver with a delicate precision, gently coaxing the screw into its proper place. My science project, a miniature ARC reactor, sputtered and dimmed. A puff of smoke shot forth from its innards. I threw the screwdriver against the floor, groaning as I leaned back against my desk chair. I peered out the window of my room just in time to see a cardinal zoom past at a breakneck speed.

Through habit alone, I grabbed my phone and clicked on my contacts list. Scrolling, scrolling. There. Yet as my finger hovered over the entry for "Mr. Stark," it hit me. I remembered.

The phone slid from my hands and I buried my head in my hands.

With a sandwich in hand, I turned from the counter. In an instant, I skidded to a halt. My heart nearly stopped.

There he was, walking outside. The dark hair, the neat beard, the smooth jacket. Before I could stop myself, I was running outside of the diner, screaming. The man turned around, confused. My mouth went dry, my heart sinking.

"I-I'm sorry," I stammered. "I thought you were someone else." The man raised an eyebrow, perplexed.

"Must have been someone special," he muttered, shaking his head before walking off into the crowd. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"He was."

"Peter wake up!"

I jolted awake, sitting upright.

"Thanos!" I found myself shouting. "He's coming! He's coming back and -"

"Peter," Aunt May said, gripping my shoulders in an attempt to stop the shaking. She took a seat next to me on my bed. "Thanos is dead," she reminded me. "Everything's ok."

Tears welled inside of my eyes, and I latched onto her.

"Why," I sobbed into her shoulder. "Why did it have to be him?"

"How are you holding up?"

I didn't answer Ned at first, shuffling my feet as we walked through the school hallway.

"I've been worse," I said at last. Ned put a hand on my shoulder.

"We're all here for you." I nodded, although the sentiment didn't quite reach my heart.

"Thanks," I mumbled. Ned seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"You know, it's been a few months," he said. "Maybe it's time to put on the suit aga -"

"No."

I shifted in my seat. There was one last speech to listen to before class was dismissed. I glanced at my watch, tapping my foot in impatience.

A tall, gangly kid strode up to the center of the room. As he turned around, my stomach twisted at the Arc reactor on the front of his t-shirt. With a wide grin, the boy began his speech.

"Today, I'm going to talk about the life and, of course, the very noble death of Tony Stark."

There was a creaking sound as I abruptly stood from my chair and walked out of the classroom, ignoring the stares as tears began to cascade down my cheeks.

"Tell me why you're here, Peter."

I wrung my hands together as I squirmed in the cushioned chair. I'd never been this nervous to talk to someone, but then again, I'd never been to therapy before.

"My Aunt thought it would be a good idea," I answered. The brunette psychiatrist, Dr. Mills, sitting across from me nodded, scribbling something down on her notepad.

"Have you been struggling with anything lately?" she asked, tilting her head to the side as I gulped.

"A… an um… a close friend of mine died," I said, racking my head for some sensical way to explain the situation. "He died in a… a street fight. Some thug shot him."

"How long ago did he die?" Dr. Mills inquired. I looked down at the floor.

"A few months."

"Did you witness the death?"

I hesitated, then nodded.

"I saw all of it." The doctor's eyes softened.

"Death is a hard thing to witness," she murmured. "Especially to someone you're close to."

"Yeah," I said in a dull, lackluster tone.

"What exactly was your relationship with this man?" asked Dr. Mills. I clenched my teeth, desperate to stop the tears gathering on the precipice of my eyes.

"He was a mentor," I answered. "Almost… almost like a dad."

Then the tears came.

It came to me in the middle of lunch one day. I paused my conversation with MJ and Ned, taking out my phone to call Aunt May.

"Can I take the car this afternoon? Yeah, I'll be back by midnight. Don't worry. Thanks, love you too. Bye."

When I set my phone down, I was greeted by curious looks from my friends.

"What was that about?" asked Ned.

"I know what I have to do."

Six hours later, I stood on the doorstep to a house in the middle of the woods. A lake was sprawled off in the distance. Various kids toys were scattered across the grass and front porch. An aching smile spread across my face as I knocked on the door.

The door swung open a moment later, and I stood before a tall, blonde woman.

"Peter!" she said, a broad grin sliding up the sides of her freckled face.

"Hi Miss Pepper," I answered.

"Please, come in," Pepper said, beckoning me inside. I stepped across the threshold into the cozy living room. "I'd ask you how you were doing," Pepper continued as I followed her into the kitchen. "but I'm sure you're sick of people asking you that." I chuckled, scratching the back of my neck.

"Yeah, a little," I admitted. "Are you?" Pepper sighed, leaning against the counter and folding her arms across her chests.

"It's hard to say," she said. "I just know I still miss him a lot."

"Me too," I agreed with a teary, half-hearted smile. Pepper wiped a spot of dampness away from her cheeks, then wrapped me in a warm hug.

"I'm so glad you finally came to visit," she murmured. "He cared about you so much."

I sniffled as I eventually pulled away, wiping my nose on the sleeve of my jacket.

"It just hurts so much," I breathed, my voice cracking on the last few words. Pepper nodded in understanding, tears falling down her own cheeks.

"Well," she said. "I'm always here if you need to talk to someone."

"Thanks," I responded in a grateful tone. "I was actually hoping to talk to Morgan, though." Pepper smiled again at this.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Of course." She walked towards the living room, where the stairway ascended into the second floor. "Morgan!" she called. "You have a visitor."

Soft footsteps thumped along the floor overhead before pounding down the staircase. A few moments later, a short, dark-haired girl had bounded into the kitchen. Peter's heart melted, and he couldn't help but laugh as Morgan's face lit up in excitement.

"Peter!" she squealed, jumping up and down with enthusiasm.

"Hey, Morgan!" I said with a wide grin. I crouched down as she leaped forward, then threw herself into my arms. I picked her up, spinning her around a few times before plopping her back onto the ground.

"Can I show him my action figures?" Morgan asked, peering over her shoulder towards Pepper. "Pleeeeease?" Pepper laughed.

"Go ahead, honey," she said. "Peter, I'm about to get started on dinner. Won't you stay?" My mouth slid open in surprise.

"O-oh," I stuttered. "I wouldn't want to impose or -"

"Oh psh," Pepper interjected, dismissing my concerns with a wave of her dish towel. "I've got enough chicken parmesan to feed an army. You're staying and that's final."

"Ok," I relented with a shy smile.

"C'mooon, Peter," Morgan pleaded, tugging at his sleeves. "I've even got a Spider-Man action figure!"

"Oh wow!" I exclaimed, following Morgan as she scurried up the stairs like a little monkey.

My heart dipped for a moment when I stepped into Morgan's room. Her floor was covered in action figures; all of the Avengers, assembled into an army to ward off the invading Lincoln Logs.

"Here you are!" Morgan said, holding up a small version of myself. I couldn't help but laugh as I took it into my hands.

"I didn't even know they made these," I responded.

"I've got two Captain Americas!" Morgan proclaimed, her cheeks blooming with happiness as she held up the two figures.

"Whoa!" I said, taking one of them to closer inspect the authenticity of the suit. "That's so cool!" Morgan's face fell.

"Mommy says the real Captain America isn't around anymore," she said. "And neither is Black Widow. She was my favorite." A fresh wave of sadness rolled over me.

"Yeah," I said, struggling to hold back the emotions welling inside of me. "They're both gone." Morgan flopped onto the carpet floor.

"So is Daddy," she murmured, tears brimming inside of her eyes. My heart ached as I took a seat next to her. We sat in a companionable silence for a minute or so before I finally spoke.

"Hey," I said, regaining a bit of my composure. "Why don't I tell you a story about your Dad?" Morgan's face lit up.

"Yeah!" she cried, clapping her hands together. I laughed.

"Well, it all began when he asked me to go to Berlin with him…"