Parley Oneshots

Accident

Request by lovlymadain

Ok um... so this might've been requested... a year ago... errr... my bad...

But here it is! (This is why I stopped asking for requests, bc some people have been waiting for WAY too long and I feel bad :/ sorry besties I'm trying to get all these requests done but there's just SO MANY AHHHHHH)

TW: minor character death, hospitals, depressive/numb state, mention of guns

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel.

3rd Person P.O.V.

Peter was living a good life. After the death of his parents, he moved in with his uncle Ben and aunt May. After their death, he was adopted by two loving parents, by the names of Sam and Josie. He lived in New York City, went to high school, and worked as Tony Stark's personal intern. Sure, he had been through a lot, but Peter was happy where he was in life.

Well, at least he was. Until the day it all went to shit.

It had started out as a normal day. Peter went to school, and walked to Stark Industries after. He was allowed to assist Tony in the lab on Fridays, so he was busy double checking a few crucial equations for their latest project. Harley, Tony Stark's nephew, was also there in the lab that day. Peter and Harley were around the same age, and got along well. All in all, it was a fairly average day.

Until a lower-level intern had ran in, calling Tony to the phone. Peter had paid it no mind, focusing extra on the equations in hopes of impressing the genius upon his return to the lab. When Tony returned, he had a strange expression on his face, looking a shade paler than usual.

"Mr Stark? Is everything alright?" Peter wondered.

"Yeah, uncle Tony, you look like you're gonna be sick," Harley frowned.

"Um... Peter, I need to speak with you privately, if you don't mind..." Tony was clearly startled by whatever that phone call had been about, and it made Peter nervous. Glancing at Harley, he followed the billionaire out into the hallway.

"Mr Stark?"

"Peter, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but..." The genius sighed, running a tired hand through his thinning hair. "Your parents... they were involved in an accident..."

"An accident?" Peter questioned, feeling a growing pit of dread in his gut. Tony wasn't meeting his eye- he would look anywhere else, in fact. It was doing nothing to calm his nerves.

"Yes, well... apparently, your apartment was broken into..." Tony finally met his eyes, and Peter could see the obvious pity in that gaze. "And the robbers, Peter... they had guns. Your mom, she didn't make it, and your dad... is in the hospital. But he isn't expected to make it through the night. I'm so sorry, kiddo." Peter was frozen. He couldn't do anything other than stare blankly at the older man. He wasn't sure this was real. Was he even real?

"...What?" His voice sounded like it would shatter into a million pieces, and that's how Peter felt at the moment.

"Do you want to go to the hospital? Y'know... say goodbye?" Peter nodded numbly. What was he agreeing to?