Spider-Man Imagines II

I Hope They Remember You (part eighteen) | Peter Parker (TH)

posting this tonight before bed bc tomorrow i am having a marvel movie night with the fam and won't update anything other than marvel imagines, if that.

i wrote all the final parts to this series so i can get them out of the way. idk i might leave after it's all done at this point i'm not even sure what i'm still doing here or anything so

//

Peter wasn't sure what to do. 

The battle was over and now all there was left to do was grieve.

He had never felt so lost in his entire life. Even when Uncle Ben died, he had a mission: to take care of Aunt May. But without you here, he had nothing. No goals other than to suck in the next gulp of air and exhale and repeat.

Peter missed you. He missed your hand, which was always holding his. He missed your laugh and your smile and the way your eyes widened whenever you looked at him. He missed his friend and his girlfriend and the love of his life, which was all in you. He loved that a day ago. Today, right now, he hated that you were all of those things. 

Were. 

Now it was just Peter. 

Trapped in Wakanda with the team that looked at him like they were ready for him to lose his mind. Trapped with Tony Stark, who was unable to even look at him. 

He had never felt so lost and alone. 

He thought of you every second of the evening. As the sun set, he stayed in the corner of one side of the palace, away from everyone else. He kept thinking about how you had just been here with him a day ago. Even six hours ago, you were alive. A week ago he was thinking about how unfair and weird it was that Mr. Stark wanted him to babysit his twenty year old daughter and take her on his senior trip. 

He was such an idiot not to relish that time-

He should have just been grateful for it. 

But he didn't love you then. He loved you now, more than anyone he ever had. 

You had prayed for him and waited for him and cried for him and he didn't get to give you the life you rightfully deserved. All of that waiting, all of you feeling hopeless and alone and so lost - while he didn't even think about maybe you being it - and everything was over already. The life you'd wished and prayed and hoped for was over and it was his fault. 

He should have saved you. 

He should have saved you. 

"I should be dead," he said aloud, eyes on the ground.

T-Challa's sister, Shuri, he learned her name was, looked up at him. She gave him a sad look. "There is a reason you're alive."

"No there isn't," he replied. "I wish I wasn't."

"Don't say that," she said. She walked over to him and lowered herself to the ground. "That girl, was she your girlfriend?"

Peter nodded. 

She gave a sad smile. "I wish things were different for you, but they aren't. And I know that sounds harsh or whatever, but you can't change the way things are or the way they happened."

"If I could go back in time," he said, "I would die for her. I froze like an idiot when she needed me and now... now I'll never see her again."

Shuri reached over and touched his arm gently. "Peter Parker, everyone freezes when they're around someone they're in love with. Trust me. But you know... I didn't know her, but I know for a fact that if she loved you as much as you love her, she wouldn't want you to die in her place." She squeezed his arm. "My people believe that death is not the end. There is a life after death, and dying is only the beginning."

"Yeah," he breathed, looking at her. "She believed that there was a life after death, too." 

"Good," she said. She smiled. "That's good. Then you know she is happy and at peace. So you can have peace."

Peter inhaled deeply. "Yeah, I guess - n-no," he said, shaking his head. "No, I can't have peace. I - I just... I want her back. Nothing will feel right to me without her back."

"Peter," she said sadly. 

He stood up. "I'm sorry, I can't." He got up and walked away, the eyes of Steve, Bucky, and T'Challa following him. 

He heard someone get up and walk with him down the hallway. He didn't have to turn to know it was Steve. 

"Hey, kid," Steve called out. A hand landed on Peter's shoulder. He froze mid-step, not turning towards him. "You can't hate yourself for this. Not even Tony hates you. I know he's... he's acting like it right now, but he doesn't hate you. He couldn't. I know for a fact that Tony Stark loved you almost as much as he loved his daughter. You were a son to him, and that is why he asked you to take care of her. But no one can take care of people forever. People have a time to go, and... and when they do, it's hard... but... but it happens. And you can't hate yourself for it."

"It should have been me," he whispered. 

"No, it-"

"Look," Peter almost snapped. He turned to Steve and held up a hand. "I appreciate what you have to say and everything, but nothing is going to make me feel better because nothing you say is going to bring her back to me. She's gone and that's it."

"It's not it," he said.

Peter clenched his jaw. "It is," he said. He turned and walked down the hallway, leaving Steve in the middle of it, watching him go.

...

"How do you expect to beat him?" Okoye asked Tony, who was pacing back and forth. "We all nearly lost our lives. We cannot just throw ourselves in death's reach every chance you think we have."

Tony looked up at her. "I don't expect us all to beat him," he said. "I don't even expect me to beat him. But I am going to try."

"Dude, that's not..." Quill began, shaking his head. "I get the pain and all that but that is not a good plan."

"Tony, no," Gamora said, approaching him, "you can't do that."

"He killed my daughter," Tony replied, looking into her eyes. "I don't have a choice."