This is another edit I made, and I'm really proud of it:) Feel free to check it out and maybe watch my other edits too! 

Peter injured after his battle with Toomes and Tony blames himself.

Tony hadn't meant to be so hard on the kid. He was just so scared of losing him, not that he would ever admit that out loud. So in typical Tony Stark fashion, he expressed his emotions in the only way he knew how. Yelling.

He honestly hadn't intended to take the suit away from Peter. It was more of a heat of the moment thing. Peter had only been trying to do the right thing. It wasn't like he was trying to split the ship in half on purpose. But none of that seemed important to Tony at the moment. Peter had lied to him and almost died. So he did what seemed to be the only option and took away the suit. Maybe now Peter will stay out of danger.

******

Pain. That was the only thing Peter Parker knew at the moment. Not only did he have an entire building crushing him, but he had no suit to protect him from the sharp and ragged debris cutting into his back.

As he lay there helpless, Mr. Stark's words from earlier flooded his mind.

"If your nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it."

Peter needed to prove Tony wrong. He needed to show him he was something without the suit that he was good enough.

"C' mon on, Peter!" he grunted with the effort of pushing the debris off his body. "C' mon, Spider-Man! Come on, Spider-Man!"

And with one final push, he was free.   After he had caught his breath, he quickly swung off to stop Vulture once and for all, to prove to Mr. Stark that he didn't need the suit to be a hero.

******

Peter stared in horror as the ground grew closer with every passing second.  This is not how Peter imagined himself dying.  In a few moments, he would crash to the ground along with the multi-million dollar jet containing the Avengers most prized and dangerous belongings.  

Peter squeezed his eyes tight and let out a frightened scream as the plane came crashing down on the sandy ground.  Peter was jolted forward from where he had been gripping onto the wing of the jet for dear life and hit the ground hard.  His momentum kept him rolling and bouncing along with the wreckage of the destroyed aircraft.  Each time his body smacked the ground, it sent bolts of pain shooting down his spine.  If he ever survived this, he would be sore for the next couple of months.

The plane, along with Peter's battered and bruised body finally came to a halt.  Peter slowly and painfully sat up, struggling to take off his makeshift mask.  He took in the damage and ruins that surrounded him, trying to ignore the ringing in his ears and the pounding in his skull as he stood up.  

He tried his best to scan the wreckage for any signs of Toomes when seemingly out of nowhere the man in question came flying at the boy and smacked right into his already frail and broken body.  

Peter stood back up as quickly as his injured body would allow him to.  He stood watching Vulture's busted wings spark as they began to take off again.

"Hey Pedro," Toomes sneered in a deep, cold voice.  

Peter saw Vulture's next attack before it happened thanks to his spidey senses, and quickly ducked and rolled out of the way of the giant metal wings.  He tried to shoot off a web and attach himself to Toomes but thanks to his probably broken wrist he ended up missing by just a few inches.  Vulture quickly took the window of opportunity and wrapped a cold metal talon around the boy's torso.

Toomes slammed the armed claws of the suit into Peter's bruised face again and again and again, each hit getting progressively harder.  Just when Peter's vision began to swarm with dots of darkness, Vulture took off into the air with Peter still in his grasp.  

Peter struggled to escape Toomes' grasp but let out a gasp when the talon finally let go, dropping him from hundreds of feet in the air.  At the very last second, right before he hit the ground, Peter shot off another web and successfully flung himself back into the air, landing on top of Vulture's metal wings and began to drag him back towards the ground.   

Unfortunately, Toomes landed right on top of Peter's back and wrapped a talon around him again.  Toomes began to thrust Peter into the cold, hard sand over and over again.  Toomes slammed him into the ground one last time, knocking him unconscious, and grabbed the broken boy by his hoodie.  

Toomes examined Peter making sure he was no longer a threat before he finally made his way towards a crate that had survived the crash.  

Peter slowly regained consciousness and watched as Toomes' broken wings began to furiously spark with the strain of the added weight.  As much as Peter wanted to take down Toomes, he didn't want him to die.

"YOUR WINGS! YOUR WINGS ARE GOING TO EXPLODE!" Peter shouted in vain.

Peter bit back a cry of pain as he shot out a web; his whole arm was now radiating pain.  The young boy screamed in pain and with the effort of trying to pull Vulture back to the ground.  

Vulture turned around, thoroughly annoyed with how persistent this kid was.  "Time to go home, Pete."

"I'm trying to save you!" Peter screamed in desperation.

Vulture ignored Peter's cries and snapped the webbing that was connecting the two with his wings.  Peter fell to the ground and watched helplessly as the Vulture's wings exploded into billions of blue sparks.  

"No..." Peter whispered in horror. "NO!" Peter ran to where Toomes had landed several feet away, now encased in a ball of flames.

Peter ran directly into the sweltering heat of the fire, searching for any sign of Toomes.  The flames licked at Peter's skin, and the thick smoke made it nearly impossible to breathe.  He spotted the man lying in the wreckage of his former wings.  Peter let out a cry of pain as the metal burned his hand as he attempted to lift the debris off the man.  He ignored the pain and tried again, successfully prying the metal off of Toomes unconscious body.

It took all of Peter's remaining strength to hoist the man's body onto his shoulders and carry him out of the fire that tried to consume them both.  As soon as they were out of harm's way, Peter collapsed to the ground.  The exhaustion and pain finally consumed him as he fell into nothingness.  

******

Happy Hogan watched as the jet that had left the tower only moments ago came crashing back down in the distance.  After Happy had called the cleanup crew, there was one other phone call left that he was dreading.  Tony Stark.

The phone rang for several moments before the man on the other end, finally picked up.

"What do you need now, Happy?"

"W-well um you see..."

"Come on, spit it out, Hogan."

"The plane that just left the tower fifteen minutes ago... well it kind of sort of... crashed."

"What the hell do you mean kind of crashed!"

"I mean that it crashed!"

Tony took a deep breath, trying to remain calm.  "I'm on my way," was all he said before ending the call.

Great.  Just great.  How was Happy ever going to get out of this one?

******

Happy arrived at the scene of the crash twenty minutes later.  As he and the rest of the Stark Industries employees began to sift through the wreckage trying to see if anything could be salvaged, Happy's eyes landed on a figure that was staggering away.  He ran to catch up with the man, though it didn't take much effort seeing as the man was pretty banged up.

"Hey, you!" Happy yelled as he grabbed the man by the wrist.  "You're not going anywhere."

The man didn't even bother to struggle as he was taken away by the authorities.  

"Stupid fucking kid," Happy heard the man mumble angrily under his breath.

Happy's breath hitched.  Kid?  He couldn't have meant Peter, right?  Tony had taken his suit away last week.  Happy began to search around with a little more urgency, hoping and praying that the man had just been hit in the head too hard.  But what Happy saw when he turned around made his blood turn cold as ice.  

Laying there in a puddle of his own blood, was none other than Peter Parker.  

Happy had just knelt down to check the boy's pulse when he heard the all too familiar sound of thrusters powering down, and the clank of metal as Tony arrived behind him in the Iron Man suit.

"What the hell happened here, Hap--- Oh my god! Peter!?" Tony shouted as he saw what was laying in front of Happy.

"Oh, Peter, what happened to you?" Tony asked as he cradled Peter's head in his hands.  Peter's nose was gushing blood, along with the various cuts and gashes that littered his broken body.  But what really made Tony panic was the large hole in the young boy's side where the talon had sunk into his skin.  

"Hey kiddo, you need to wake up.  C'mon buddy, please open your eyes," Tony pleaded while gently shaking Peter in an attempt to wake him up.

"Happy, tell Bruce to be ready when we get back to headquarters, I don't know how much longer the kid will last."

"Please wake up, Peter!  I'm sorry.  God, I'm so sorry, kiddo.  This is all my fault." Tony sobbed.   

Happy couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.  Tony Stark, the man without a heart, was crying.   Even after working for Tony for the past ten years, Happy had never seen the man cry before.

****** 

Darkness.  That was all Peter knew.  He could occasionally hear muffled voices or distant beeping, but they sounded so far away.  Peter relished the peace and quiet, something he never seemed to have after being bit by that spider.  

Then, all at once, the quiet became too much.  He needed to hear something, anything.  The silence had become too eery, and it was freaking Peter out with how quiet it was.  He desperately listened for even the smallest noise and almost let out a sob of relief when he heard the familiar beeping from before.  Then he began to hear voices.  He couldn't quite make out words, but he knew someone was talking.  Peter tried to focus on what the voice was saying.  

"-ome on kiddie..."

"Please.."

"... wake up"

Peter started to make out bits and pieces.  Whoever it was, they sounded sad, desperate.

"I'm so sorry, Peter."

Sorry?  Why is the voice, sorry?  

"It's all my fault."

Who's fault?  What happened?

"I should have never taken your suit away.  None of this would have ever happened to you if you still had your suit."

It all came rushing back to Peter.  The ferry.  Vulture.  The building.  The jet.  The fight.  Tony.

"It's not your fault," Peter croaked, using all of his strength to reach out a hand and lay it on top of Tony's.

"OH MY GOD, PETER!" Tony shouted in surprised relief.  "Oh god, I thought you were dead.  I'm so, so, sorry kiddie." Tony sobbed as he wrapped the injured boy in a gentle but firm hug.

"I thought we weren't there yet," Peter joked as he snuggled into the hug from his mentor.

"Shut up and hug me," Tony chuckled.

"This is nice," Peter breathed quietly.