"Who lives who dies who tells your story?"

Peter was back at the Avengers compound, determined to put the whole of the Hydra incidents behind him. He actually agreed with Tony and Steve to lay off Spiderman for a few weeks at least while the rest of the Avengers investigated, and spent his time doing normal teenager things on his summer break.

Going to the pool with MJ and Ned for example.

"You've been doing what?" MJ asked incredulously as they dangled their feet in the pool water. Other people made quite the commotion, but it was easy enough to tune them out. "I've been working on a project with Tony Stark. Super secret." Peter explained poorly, MJ had been insistent that he'd vanished off the face of the earth and she deserved to know why.

She didn't look wholly satisfied with his explanation.

It was late at night by the time Peter got back to the compound, and he found Steve, Tony, Natasha and Clint waiting up for him - though Clint had fallen asleep ungracefully across the chair.

"I was just out with MJ and Ned!" Peter defended when he walked in and was greeted with glares. "You should still be coming home at a reasonable time!" Steve grumbled, standing and stretching. Peter sighed, shouldering his bag and shuffling to his room.

With the Avengers it was like having 10 parents with super powers!

oOo

It was dark, and there was a strange smell. A metallic smell, but not of silver or titanium. This was an iron smell, the tang of blood. A smell you never forget.

A color leaked into the dark scene; red. The blood was thick and slimey and everywhere, it was all over his hands, staining the blue parts of his suit red and the red parts of his suit redder.

He was kneeling in it, swimming in it, drowning in it.

Peter fought in a panic to scrub the blood off of him, stumbling through the thick liquid sticking to his knees. Where was it coming from? Whose blood was it?!

"Why didn't you save us?"

No. No, no, no...!

Peter spun around to the unwelcome, but not wholly unfamiliar faces that had been plaguing his dreams for days. The faces were hollow, their eyes empty, their skin slack. They barely looked human anymore.

"I can't save everyone." Peter growled under his breath, looking at his shaking bloody hands. He repeated the mantra Tony taught him, but he didn't believe it. He didn't have an excuse for letting these people die. It was his fault.

He should've saved them.

"You let us die."

Their voices all merged together into one, different tones and different pitches making his ears ring.

He didn't let them die, but he should've died trying to save them. That was what being a hero was about; saving others, not yourself. He failed them.

"Are you going to let us die, too?"

He couldn't turn. He wouldn't turn. Oh stars, no.

Peter turned around to see the Avengers, his family, with the slack faces and black eyes. The blood rose around him and he could barely see through tears. No, he wouldn't let them die.

"You're a failure. How do you expect to save us?"

No, he couldn't watch anymore people die for him, because of him. He would find a way to-

"Peter."

The voice he'd nearly forgotten rang through his head and made his breath stop. The blood around him stopped at his waist now, but more pooled in his palms as his tears turned red.

There, in front of him, stood the face he'd nearly forgotten. The prescence he'd nearly forgotten. The life.

"Uncle Ben." Peter sobbed, staring at the man helplessly. He didn't have black hole eyes or a slack face, he wasn't covered in blood, he was the same sadly smiling man that Peter remembered.

The man who taught him about responsibility and how it was more important than anything else.

"You can never forfeit your responsibilities. You must embrace them." Was one of the things he would say. Peter didn't know at the time why Ben taught him so strictly about responsibility.

Now he did.

"You were my responsibility." Ben told Peter, who swallowed with the taste of thick red blood stuck in his throat. "I didn't know how to convey to you how much I loved you, or how I would never, ever leave you. I hoped you'd come to the conclusion yourself."

Peter remembered these words. He remembered the letter. It was different hearing them come from the wise man who had eyes too old for his age.

"You were so scared those first few weeks," Ben recounted fondly, "May and I didn't know how we could make you feel loved. I did all I could."

Peter let himself shake with sobs now, the world shifting in and out of focus as red tears added to the blood pooling around him. Ben was like a shining light in the dense blood as he walked towards the crying teenager.

Peter knew by now it was all in his head, but he didn't know how to escape. And now, seeing Ben again even with all the ghosts behind him, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"I'm so proud of you." His large hand cupped Peter's bloodstained cheek and a smile crinkled his eyes. "I miss you. I miss you so much. I'm so sorry." Peter hiccuped, his voice small and caught in his throat.

Ben smiled sadly and kissed Peter's forehead, before he began to fade. "U-Uncle Ben, no!" Peter screamed, grasping as the translucent figure. "Goodbye, Peter."

"No!!!"

"You failed him too. He lied. How could he be proud of you?"

Peter was screaming, but he couldn't hear it. His hands were in his hair, desperate to feel, to get out and the blood felt so real, and he needed to get out. He sunk to his knees, the blood coming up to his neck as he gasped for air. Did he really deserve to make it out of there alive?

The faces loomed above him with hollow eyes and unforgiving frowns. Tony was there, so was Steve and Natasha. He'd killed them all. It was his fault, all his fault.

"Peter..."

No! "Get away from me!" He sobbed into the air, though it was more blood than air. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"Peter, wake up!"

Woah, sorry to drop that heavy angst on ya there, did anyone cry? Cause to be honest, I cried while writing that...

although in my defense I just listened to a bunch of hamilton music so I'm super emotional.

hey so do any of you, my fantabulificent readers, know of the fandoms Miraculous Ladybug, the 100, Voltron, or Sherlock?

I mean, I'm sure most of you have definitely heard of them, but I'm thinking of doing a fanfic for either MLB or the 100 and I'm wondering what you guys think?

I mean, let's face it I'm gonna post on anyways, but I like feedback sooo

Also, no set date in mind, just a plot bunny I had.

~ Meow