The Revenge of Devil | Irondad, pepperony

Chapter 66

Peter's way back home was a little foggy. The last thing he perceived in all was when Everett Ross arrived with several armed soldiers and agents, who immediately handcuffed the helpless Teresa and led her away. It wasn't until Peter was in the car when he realized that this might be the last time he saw her. If they locked her in the Raft, - and according to what Ross told Tony, and how the two men shook hands happily as they said goodbye, they seemed to lock her there in a hundred percent - she'd probably be there forever.

He looked out the window, dreaming of the surrounding buildings and the cars they were passing. He felt a tear flicker on his cheek and wiped it angrily. He constantly felt Dad's caring look in the rearview mirror, and it was bothering him. If only he could evaporate. Or at least he could get home alone. In his Spider-man suit, he might be able to keep all trouble down on the ground as he jumped from building to building. Why couldn't his parents leave him alone? The danger was gone — but Peter was suddenly unsure if he was happy. Of course, he was happy that none of his loved ones were hurt, but she was still his sister. Why should he rejoice she would be lockup in Raft?

He knew he had disappointed - himself, Richard, her. He promised to protect her and to help her. That he would save her. He couldn't do anything. He played the hero, and yet he was an ordinary child. How could he help other people if he couldn't even help his family, his sister? He sank into such depths of apathy that he wanted to lock his suit in the closet and never wear it again. He felt he didn't deserve it.

"We're home," Pepper's low voice came to him as the car stopped in front of their house. Peter said nothing, just opened the door and walked out. He managed to close the door when he heard footsteps, and then a thin girl fell around his neck. He was surrounded by her typical scent, and her brown hair obscured the view for a moment. Michelle. He closed his eyes and hugged her tightly.

"Are you okay?" She muttered to his shoulder.

"No," he replied honestly. She gasped and pulled away from him so she could run her eyes over him in fright and see where the wound was. He smiled sadly. His wounds were not visible. "I need to be alone for a while," he begged her, but he didn't really wait for an answer, because as soon as she let him go, he turned and headed inside. Michelle watched him anxiously, but Pepper came up to her and hugged her as well.

"Thank you for not letting him come alone. That you let Natasha and the others know," the woman with strawberry-blonde hair whispered gratefully.

"Did I really do the right thing? Didn't I make it worse?" she worried, still having Peter's helpless expression in front of her eyes.

"No. If you hadn't told them, Pepper and I would most likely be dead, and Peter would be gone," Tony interjected. "He'll be fine again. He just needs to figure it out in his head." But he didn't sound very convincing. Peter really regretted Teresa's fate, and if he had the chance, he would change it.

Peter, meanwhile, went to his room, opened the window, and climbed onto the roof with the help of his spider webs. With a heavy exhalation, he settled on its edge and lowered his legs. The cold wind ruffled his hair, and Peter felt peace seize him and his mind cleared. At this point, he felt that he was truly alone, so when he could think in peace and give space to his thoughts, they became clearer and ceased to be so volatile. It was weird. The pain didn't go away, but he had already managed to look a little at what had happened. He wanted to see it through his parents' eyes, to understand. He really did. In fact, he did not blame them for their reactions. He blamed himself. If he talked to them more, explained it to them, and discussed with them what he had planned and how important it was for him to try to help Teresa, it might turn out differently. They would definitely be better prepared for the situation and there wouldn't be... any of this. He could only blame himself.

Suddenly a green light flashed beside him and he turned in surprise. Loki sat beside him, still in his Asgard clothing, watching him. "If you don't want me here, I'll understand," he told him straight. "Pepper asked me to find out how you were."

Peter wondered. Had he been sitting here for so long? He immersed himself and his feelings so deeply that he probably lost track of time. But he didn't mind having Loki here. After all, he was one of the first to not only hear but understand him at the wedding. "I don't know, Loki," he replied, narrowing his eyes. "Maybe I had everything for a while. I could have. But now it's all over." Then he chuckled. "I have tremendous strength, improved senses, I'm more resilient, I have a sixth sense... people would pay for it all. And I'd give it up if it meant having a sister. So, now you can judge me."

But Loki didn't do it. "You don't have to be ashamed of wanting a normal life," he said quietly. "I know. It's hard. People look up to you, you're a superhero for them. But you're also human. You see things, you do things, you decide And those decisions are often not easy. No one can blame you for how you feel. That you regret those decisions. That you ask yourself if you made the right decision." Peter listened intently. Loki interpreted exactly what he was fighting. "Peter, you must realize that you are not omnipotent. You can't save everyone," he told him seriously but gently. He wanted to put his hand on his shoulder, but then realized he wasn't really here. Peter chuckled. "You're the good boy. I'd tell you to turn around and run away from it all, but -"

"- but you can't run," Peter finished for him and nodded. "I'm just so sorry."

Loki looked into the distance. "I know. But maybe not all is lost yet." Peter looked at him questioningly. "I don't know. Maybe there's a possibility you could go see your sister someday. See her. Talk to her. And start working on what you originally wanted. Help her change her worldview," he explained carefully, turning his head toward him. "Maybe one day they'll let her go. And then it'll be easier."

Peter was moved by his words and conjured at least a small smile on his face. He wiped his wet nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Maybe they'll let her go one day. Honestly, he didn't believe it very much. But even so, Loki's words ignited in him at least a small glimmer of hope.

"I'm grateful to have someone I can talk to about it," he told Loki timidly. He'd hug him, but of course, he couldn't. So at least he gave him a smile. "Thanks."

•••

And only epilogue remains.