Basically to understand this, you should listen to this song, but you don't HAVE to. It just makes it a whole lot more sad, I suppose.

"Where is my son?" Tony burst through the doors of the hospital, knowing full well his son was currently there. While in the main lobby he ran into a doctor he was familiar with, one that had been taking care of Peter whenever the need arose, as few times as they had occurred.

"Mr. Stark, come in, they brought him in a half an hour ago, he lost a lot of blood on the way-"he started, his tone too dreadful and panicked for Tony's liking.

"Is he alive?" He interrupted, Peter's well being the only thing he cared about at the moment.

"Yes but you have to understand, the shot
entered just above his hip-"

"Can I see him please?" Desperation was evident in his voice and he knew it, but he didn't care. His son's life was on the line.

"I'm doing everything I can, but the wound was already infected when he arrived" The doctor explained. "The man he was fighting used some sort of gun that had alien chemicals in them. The boy's fast healing isnt working, and his body is rejecting all healing substances" the man said, leading him out of the lobby and to his son's room.

It was dark, and the boy was hooked up to a heart monitor, bags of fluids, and his midsection was wrapped in bandages.

His skin was sickly and pale, but that didn't stop his son from smiling the moment Tony walked in, like he wasn't dying, and everything would be ok.

It wouldn't.

"Peter" Tony said. It was barely a whisper, but it was enough.

"Mr. Stark" He said, after a pause that was far too long. "I did exactly as you said, Mr. Stark, I was swinging through the sky"

"I know, I know" He said, gently shushing the boy. Peter didn't have to explain himself.

"The sky" the boy's voice was weak and shaky, and there were tears in both of their eyes.

"I know, I know, I know, you did everything just right" Tony said, grabbing on to Peter's hands like he could stop him from falling away.

"Even before he got to me, I was saving all those lives" Peter. His precious boy sacrificed himself for random people.

"I know, I know"

"I saved all of those lives"

"I know, save your strength and stay alive" Tony was crying. He saw his son slipping away before his eyes. The doctors wouldn't be enough.

"NO!" The doors slammed open, a frantic woman running in and standing on Peter's other side, tears streaming down her face.

"May," Tony said, surprised she had gotten here so quickly.

"Is he breathing is he going to survive this? Who did this Tony did you KNOW?" She asked in a rush, her strong voice now wavering as she saw Peter on the bed.

"May I'm so sorry for forgetting what you told me" Peter quietly said, reaching up to his aunt.

"Peter" she whispered.

"I played the hero" he sounded guilty, knowing this was the reason Aunt May was so scared about his powers. He had told her, and she had made him promise her one thing.

"You are my hero"

"You told me not to die" he said weakly, smiling a bit and holding her hand tighter.

"I told you, once upon a time"

"This is my second time..." May let out a sob, remembering the time when Tony knocked on her door, Peter's ashes being the only thing left. She remembered Tony's face, broken and tired, his eyes red and puffy, like he had been crying. It wasn't unlike now, as they stood in the hospital, listening to Peter's heart beat slow down, each beep coming later than the last.

"I know, I know" she said, shushing him a bit, kissing his hand and holding him in a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around her, but without any strength. Tony doubted he had any strength left.

"May I don't want to die" he whispered, and May suddenly knew what it was like, to be shot. Right in the gut. Pain, immense pain spread through her body, as her eyes widened and she looked down at her precious boy. The boy she would die for, that she couldn't do anything for. She couldn't help him as he faded away, she could just stand and watch. Watch as the light in Peter's eyes died out.

"I know, I know" that's all she could say. She remembered years and years ago, when she was teaching Peter piano. The same was she and her sister had learned. She taught him, knowing it'd bring him closer to his mother.

"Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf" she said, her voice melodic and smooth, the only faults were her voice cracking as she tried to stop sobbing.

Peter joined in, finishing with a soft"Sept huit neuf"

"Good." May said, continuing the song, holding Peter's hand. Tony had kneeled down to Peter's side too, whispering about how it would be ok, how he loved Peter, how he was going to be fine.
"Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf" she sang again, only realizing he hadn't joined in when she finished, and he was staring at her, a tear streaking down his face. "Sept huit neuf" she tried again.

He was gone. His dull eyes, once full of light, were looking up at her, and she couldn't bear it. Those beautiful eyes, once holding so much joy and innocence, were now dead, and lifeless. May barely recognized them.

She closed her own eyes in a desperate attempt to forget the horrible sight before her, to pretend that Peter was fine, and would be waiting for her back at her apartment, bouncing up and down in his seat.

It was pointless.

The only sound heard was Tony's soft sobbing and the sound of the flatline. The bustle of the hospital outside the closed door, which wasn't fair. Nobody else should still get to talk and move like that when the most important thing wasn't anymore.

"...sept huit"