Peter Parker/Spider-Man Headcanons and Oneshots

Death

An: So this got rather depressing rather quickly. Peter dies, so yeah. Slight suicide/depression warning, as well as semi-graphic death. Sorry about this. I've been delaying publishing this one, but it's the only other thing I have so here you go. Stay safe, and well... have fun?
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"I've imagined death so much it feels more like a memory."

Peter Parker is no stranger to death. His parents died when he was 6, his Uncle died (by his own hands, no matter when anyone else says- with great power comes great responsibility) when he was 14. As Spiderman, there were times where he was just getting into the hero business and was a little too late. And of course, he had actually died (I don't feel too good, I don't wanna go, please Mr. Stark, I'm sorry...), but that has only been temporary.

So no, Peter Parker wasn't a stranger to death.

He was not a stranger to death when his Aunt May died. Hit by a drunk driver, killed on impact. Orphaned once more.

Peter was no stranger to death. He often fantasized over how he would die. Would he be shot or stabbed? After he had reached 50 or before his 35th birthday? Would it be quick and painless, or long and drawn out? What would be after? Would he be back in the Stone? Floating threw endless dark? Would he see anyone else who had died?

Now, Peter wasn't suicidal, (although he may or may not have been slightly depressed), he was just a curious young boy. And one if the most curios things in the universe was death.

Peter was no stranger to death when Tony Stark, the mentor who had adopted him, fell into a coma after being smacked a round by some alien or bad-guy wannabe. Peter had already accepted the worst- his father/mentor would never wake up again, and he would be orphaned for the third time.

Peter was no stranger to death when he was dying himself, Tony still on a coma.

So here Peter was. Lying in the ground in front of Thanos, the cursed purple grape who wanted to stir up trouble again. With Tony still in his coma, and the rest of the Avengers scattered to the winds, it was once again up to the young boy to save the world that had taken so much for him but never gave anything back.

The only good thing was Thanos was defeated. Lying on the ground, knocked out so hard and bleeding so much even the Titan might not be able to recover.

Peter was no stranger to death. And he was pretty okay with it. He was sad that  he couldn't be Spiderman anymore, couldn't help out his city. But he could see his parents. Ben. May. And soon, Tony.

So there Peter was, half-dead when the Avengers finally got their schist together to stop Thanos.

None of them were strangers to death. But this was a whole new level.

Peter lay there, mask half-ripped off, suit torn and ripped, blood pouring out of his sides, framing him like a pair of angel wings. He looked peaceful, staring up at the clear blue sky, Karen frantically trying to call someone to please come help, young sir is dying, please, he only has minutes, Underoos is dying, come help.

"Spiderman?" Steve Rogers asked. Peter flicked his gaze up to the senior hero.

"Oh. You guys made it." Peter sounded even younger than he looked, and the Avengers were sick with themselves that a child had taken on Thanos all by himself, while they were doing what? Taking a break from saving lives?

"I think he is out. We shouldn't really be bothered by him anymore. Is Mr. Stark awake yet?" The young boy continued, voice weak from blood loss. The groups looked closer at his injuries. How the hell was this kid still alive?

"Awake? What do you mean?" Clint Barton asked.

"Oh. Mr. Stark has been in a coma. They were going to take him off life support tomorrow. Then I would have been orphaned for a third time. But I'm almost 18, so I guess it doesn't really matter." Peter rambled on.

"Spiderman? How old are you?" Clint asked.

"My name is Peter. An' I'm 17 and a half. Mr. Stark adopted me after my Aunt died, after my uncle died, after my parents died." Peter's voice is growing weaker by the second. How is he not dead already?

"Okay.. Peter. We are going to get you all better, yes?" Steve takes charge. The dying boy nods sluggishly.

"I'm not a stranger to death. It will be okay if you guys don't save me." Peter says as Thor vends down to check the damage.

"He healing himself." The god if thunder reports. "But not fast enough."

"I need a med-evac now!" Natasha orders into her walkie-talkie.

"Hey there Peter. What do you like to do in school?" Clint bends down by the boy, trying to keep him awake.

"I like science. Mr. Stark and I do science all the time. He let me help code Karen." The boy mumbles sluggishly.

"Who's Karen?" Clint asks. Peter motions to his mask.

"My suit-lady. She's really nice. She is one of the best AI's I've ever met." Peter's eyes seem to brighten when talking about science, Mr. Stark, and Karen.

"That's awesome bud! Hold on just a little longer, Okay? Can you tell me about.... I don't know, do you like chemicals? I'm sure Bruce would love letting you tinker with some of his stuff." Clint tries to keep the boy talking, but the light is quickly fading from his eyes.

"Shit- we're loosing him. Nat! When's that med-evac due!" Clint screamed. People surrounded the boy, a helicopter landed, and two people in white hopped out, two kids pulling a gurney behind them.

They shook Peter, trying to get him responsive, but the boy was nearly gone- his eyes were dull, breathing shallow.

"Peter!"

"Hey, look at me!"

Dull screams rang Peter's ears. He was no stranger to death. White and black and varying shades of gray swam in his vision. Peter's head felt heavy, and his sides hurt.

Someone was hitting him. Shaking him. He was moving.

Peter could feel his chest rising and falling slow, slowly, slower, then not at all. He thought he saw May and Ben, floating in the corners of his line of sight.

"Peter! Please! Tony needs you!"

Peter's brain was foggy. Who need him? Was his name Peter? Tony?

His eyelids fluttered. God, he was tired. So tired.

His chest slowed in its semi-steady pattern of rising and falling. His eyelids fluttered shut.

The last thing Peter saw before giving himself to the white light was a worried face, one that looked like Pepper, tears streaming down her face, mouth open in a scream he couldn't hear.

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Peter Parker, Spiderman, died at 11:19 pm, in the best hospital in the world, surrounded by healers from Asgard and Earth.

Cause of death was severe brain trauma and extreme loss of blood and damaged vital organs.

He was 17 years, 5 months, and 20 days old.

He died on his hospital bed, blood pouring from his sides to form scarlet angel wings.

Tony Stark died at 11:23 pm, from brain trauma and his coma, minutes after his son died.

They were mourned world wide, realm wide. Everyone knew the stories of Tony Stark, Iron Man and Peter Parker, Spiderman.

And neither had ever been strangers to death.