Warnings: Angst.

Word Count: 3163 words.

This references events in Infinity War, spoiler alert!

This is set post-Avengers: Endgame, meaning I've kept certain characters alive and others dead. I'm not sure how I feel about how this one turned out. Also stupid Wattpad messing up my format so I had to move EACH INDIVIDUAL PARAGRAPH TO THE SIDE SO IT WASN'T CENTRED URGH

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Things had been different since Peter left the Soul Realm.

After four years of a strange orange hue engulfing everything around him, things were bound to be different. The landscape and people had been so confusing in the Soul Realm, with the sun never setting and time remaining stagnant. The likes of Star Lord and his 'gang', as well as those he recognised from the airport took on strange, unfamiliar exteriors. While the physical appearance of the people there had not changed, whenever he spoke to someone an overwhelming sense of emotion would flood his senses. Tastes, sounds and memories, all rolling into terrifying episodes where Peter couldn't tell what was real. A dark static would cloud his mind, the constant flow of emotion rendering him unable to think.

These effects weren't exclusive to Peter, however his enhanced senses likely made these episodes far worse. At least, that's what Dr Banner had told him. He also said that these strange occurrences were likely the manifestations of souls, and that the realm had somehow allowed those inside of it to be privy to one other's innermost feelings and urges.

That was pretty cool, Peter thought.

Since then, the teen hadn't returned to his normal self, with a persistent sunken sensation in his gut. It was as if he was constantly sick, not failing to catch the attention of his fellow Avengers.

It was you in particular who had noticed the change in his demeanour.

Jolting upright in his bed, Peter screamed and kicked the sheets covering his body. Hands fumbling over his body, his breaths came out in jagged pants. Eyes searching the room and filling with tears, the teen found himself shaking from fear.

"Peter." You called, hand grazing his cheek.

Looking around the room, he started to calm once he noticed your form sitting on the foot of the bed. Bringing his fist to his mouth in a vain attempt to keep the tears at bay, the teen squinted his eyes shut. Instantly, you leaned forward to hold him, his shaking arms wrapping around your waist. Cradling the back of his head, your heart shattered at how utterly terrified he was. Sobs began to wrack the teen's body, and he held you in an iron grip.

Aunt May burst through the bedroom door, hair disheveled and missing her glasses. Eyes wide and alert, she checked the room for danger before landing on Peter.

"God- Peter, are you okay? What's going on?" She stuttered out, sitting down on the bed beside him. Afraid to alarm the boy further, she kept from touching him.

"It's okay Aunt May," he said, breathing shallow and quick. "Y/n's here with me. I'll be okay. I'm going to be okay."

The teen repeated these words like a mantra, eyes still glued shut. Rocking slightly, his pained expression eased, grew worse. May's face fell, and she looked to the floor. Swallowing hard, the woman nodded vigorously. Voice wavering, she stood and made her way to the door.

"That's... that's good sweetie. You just- you just stay in here, okay? I'm gonna make a quick call." Aunt May reached out for the doorframe, stumbling before walking into the kitchen.

Running your hand through Peter's hair, you soothingly drew circles across his shoulders with your spare hand. Sobs still shaking working their way out of his throat, you tried to calm him as best you could. Leaning against his headboard, you allowed him to curl up against you and cry into your shirt. Tears dampening the fabric, a pit of guilt formed in your stomach. He was practically inconsolable, and you felt utterly useless and unable to help.

Breath catching in his throat, Peter wiped at his cheeks, erasing the tear tracks that lied there.

"Peter, please, look at me," you said, voice pleading. "What happened?"

Shaking his head, Peter looked up at you with glassy eyes.

"It was a nightmare. I was so frozen, I couldn't... I can't-" He said, hiccuping. Trying to explain the situation had made him more upset, and you thought it best to leave it alone.

"Don't worry, don't worry. You don't need to tell me right now. We can just sit." You said, closing your eyes and pulling him closer. Stretching your legs, you lied down on the blankets and reached out an arm. Peter followed suit and rested his head next to yours, revelling in the comfort of your arm around his shoulders. Tracing shapes over his arm, you whispered sweet nothings and gazed up to the roof. The pair of you lied there like that for a long time, and if you hadn't known better, you would've thought Peter had fallen back asleep. With every steady breath he took, a wave of relief would wash over you. There was nothing you wanted more than to take his pain away in that moment, knowing that it was your fault he was suffering like this.

It was your fault he had changed.

The teen shifted beside you, reaching a state of unsteady calm. It gave him the bravery to meet your eyes, revealing the pain in them had dulled.

"I dreamt about you." Peter said plainly, scanning every detail your face, committing it to memory. Swallowing thickly, he continued. "I dreamt about the battle - after Mr. Stark used the gauntlet - but when we were fighting... Thanos, he... he grabbed you. He threw you up against a tree and you couldn't use your powers and then you were bleeding and you couldn't breathe and I couldn't do anything to stop it."

Peter's eyes filled with tears again, but the determined crease between his brows didn't waver.

"I was so angry and scared. (Y/n), I don't know what I would've done." His face softened, and Peter tested his forehead against your own.

A lump formed in your throat, and you struggled to keep it together.

"Peter..."

"But it was just a dream." He said, a small, grateful smile on his lips. "It was just a nightmare."

Biting your lip, you closed your eyes and looked away from him, disgusted with yourself. It was you who kept causing him this pain, and you knew that even though he had calmed tonight, a time would calm where Peter wouldn't be able to recover.

It was then that Aunt May re-entered the room, having found her glasses and wearing a nightgown. Worry etched into her features, she leaned against the doorframe and eyed the teenage boy before her.

"Hey, Peter, you feeling a bit better now?" She asked. Peter nodded, a blissful half-smile on his face. Pursuing her lips, Aunt May spoke tentatively. "Did (y/n) help with that?"

Again, Peter nodded, moving to rest his head on your stomach and closing his eyes. Exhaustion from the crying began to set in, your body heat lulling him into a deep sleep. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear Aunt May talking, but as fatigue dragged him into the darkness her words mingled into a jumbled mess of sound.

🕸 🕸 🕸

Peter awoke with a dry throat. Swallowing, he glanced around the room, the only people inside being Aunt May and Dr. Banner himself. Head in her hands, his aunt looked as if she hadn't slept in days. The years spent worrying about Peter's whereabouts after the snap paled in comparison to the fatigue last night night had caused. Gaze darting to her nephew, Aunt May stood with wide eyes, walking to the edge of the bed and kneeling down.

"Hey, Aunt May." Peter croaked out, voice hoarse.

"Hey there Peter." She replied, voice gentle. Reaching out to place a hand on the teen's shoulder, she gave a small smile. "You've been asleep a while."

Peter's brows furrowed, and he shifted to sit upright. Glancing around the bedroom, familiar furniture from the Avengers' upstate facility were placed in their usual positions, and he recognised it as his assigned room. In the corner, Dr. Banner sat with a glum expression, hands in his pockets.

There was no reason for Peter to be here. He had been living in Queens with Aunt May for months, and not once had he been called upstate. Judging by both Aunt May and Bruce's expressions, Peter knew there was a serious reason for him to be here. This wasn't for a mission, otherwise he would've been called in. Nor was it a social call. It was something different.

"What's going on?" Peter asked.

Dr. Banner arose from his chair, walking up to the fragile teen with an apologetic look.

"Your Aunt May called me about what happened last night." He said.

Peter nodded, attempting to downplay the situation. As much as he loved Aunt May and Dr. Banner, the last thing he wanted them to do was worry about him. He would be fine. He had you.

"It was just a nightmare." Peter responded casually. "Nothing too serious. Everyone gets them."

Bruce nodded, looking to the floor and scratching his bottom lip with his thumb.

"And that is kind of to be expected after what happened to you in the Soul Realm and the fight. Everyone has had some sort of trauma."

Bruce grew solemn, grief overtaking his features. Mouth pressed into a thin line, he was quiet for a moment. It didn't take a genius to know he was thinking of Natasha.

"But that's not what we're worried about." He said, snapping out of his trance.

Peter scrunched up his face, confused. Not a lot the doctor was saying make much sense, and he couldn't understand why they needed to have this discussion at the compound. At this point, all the teen knew was that he was tired and hungry and wanted to go home back to Queens.

It was then that he felt a light pressure on his shoulder, and he looked up to see your smiling face looking down at him. It was an empty smile, but you attempted one nevertheless.

"(Y/n), when did you get here?" Peter muttered, looking to the door and back to you. "I didn't see you come in."

Your smile faltered, and guilt etched onto your features. Turning, you could see both Bruce and Aunt May in the room. The pair of them held cautious expressions, looking towards you.

"I'm so sorry Pete." You said, taking his hand in yours. Pressing a kiss to his knuckles, you held back building tears. You knew this day would arrive sooner or later, but there was something so final about it that you hadn't quite anticipated.

"Sorry? (Y/n), why are you sorry?" Peter asked, readjusting his frame to get a better look at you.

"Is she here with you?" Aunt May asked.

Peter squinted at her, before looking to you.

"What do you mean, is she here with me? She's standing right there-"

Peter stopped speaking when he noticed the tears leaking from your eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said, shuffling over to give you space. "Why are you crying?"

Unbeknownst to Peter, his aunt and the doctor shared a look.

"Peter." Dr. Banner called, gaining the teen's attention. "We've known for a while that you could see her. I suspect it's residue energy from the Soul Realm, but we can't really be sure-"

A flurry of anger flashed through Peter's veins.

"What are you trying to say?"

The doctor turned away, leaving the responsibility to Aunt May. A moment passed, the woman trying to find the right words.

"(Y/n) isn't really here. Peter - Honey, she died. She's been dead for a long time."

Peter's expression dropped before shaking his head. Gaze turning to you, he kept his hold on your hand firm, tugging you to sit on the bed with him. Resisting the urge to fall into his embrace, you stood, hands still connected while keeping your distance. You couldn't hurt him any more.

Head whipping around to face Aunt May, Peter glared accusingly.

"She's not dead. (Y/n) is here, with me."

Sniffling, you swallowed and looked into Peter's eyes. Shaking your head, you released a breath you weren't even aware you were holding.

"I'm so sorry." You said. "I tried to tell you."

A look of betrayal flashed through Peter's eyes, followed by a distinct pang of mourning.

And then he remembered.

You were holding Thanos back, one arm raised above your head while the other drew up from the ground to collide with the his jaw. The titan released a grunt, and you took your small window of opportunity. Gliding underneath his legs, you kicked behind one of his knees and the mad titan fell. Jumping up to his shoulders, you were caught mid air and thrown against a building. Your back collided with the concrete, and you fell to the ground. Pain jolted up your spine, and you struggled to catch your breath.

As Thanos turned from you, the familiar sound of Peter's web fluid rushing through the air met your ears. Headed toward Thanos, he yelled and kicked the titan in the head. The teen shot multiple webs at his feet, only to be grabbed by the leg and beaten into the road. He was repeatedly thrown, and your blood turned to ice.

Despite the pain, you picked yourself up from the ground, off-balance. Glancing down to your left leg, your foot rested at an awkward angle, the ankle beginning to swell and stiffen. Hobbling towards Thanos, using part of a street light to as a weapon, you desperately tried to keep him away from Peter. With all the strength you had left, you jumped and brought the pipe down on his head. The titan yelled in annoyance, you managed to keep your distance.

Landing a series of quick, isolated punches to his side, you held his complete attention. Thanos brought both fists down towards you, and you stumbled out of the way before he could make contact. Falling to the ground, you crawled towards a pile of rubble, attempting to stand back up. Pushing yourself from the ground, you lost your balance immediately and hit your head on the concrete. Pain exploded across your temple, and the ground swam to meet you. Glancing down to your still numb foot, you could see that it was now completely limp. A deep breath stretched your lungs, and you turned to see Thanos stalking towards you.

Crawling away, you noticed a manhole to your side. Laying down on your stomach, you clung to the cover with both hands. Flipping over, you used the metal disc as a shield and deflected a hunk of rubble left towards you. The impact leaving a dent in your makeshift shield, the force causing your head to ricochet back into the ground and the disc to hit your forehead.

Vision hazy, you could hardly keep your eyes open. Blood flowed from your nose and other cuts on your face, the pain alone almost strong enough to make you pass out. The bones were broken beneath the skin, and a distinct, sharp pain at the back of your skull marked where it had been split.

You could faintly hear the cries of the Captain telling you to get back, to look out on the left-

And then a horrific pain exploded across your chest, a chunk of metal piercing right through your heart, all the while the mad titan smiled down at you.

Peter's eyes filled with tears, turning to you with a mixture of horror and grief.

Dr. Banner soundlessly left the room, giving Aunt May a final nod.

A moment of silence passed, Peter unable to meet either of your gazes. Mouth pressed into a thin line, he tried to suppress the wobble in his lip.

"Can you let me talk to her alone, please?" Peter croaked out.

Apprehensive, his aunt arose from her position next to the bed and towards the door. Leaning against the doorway, she looked over her shoulder and towards Peter.

"Call me if you need anything, okay? I'm right outside this door."

The door clicked shut, a long silence following suit.

"I held you in my arms after it happened." He said, barely above a whisper. "I could feel your shattered bones and blood on my clothes. You were so broken (y/n), I didn't know how they could fix you."

You shook your head, teary eyed.

"You can't fix what happened. People don't survive that."

Firmly, Peter looked you in the eyes. You attempted to look away, but he moved towards your line of sight.

"But you are here. You have survived."

"Peter-"

"I love you." He said. "I... I need you to stay. Maybe this is how things are supposed to be, even if it's different."

Placing your face in your hands, you let another tear slip down your cheek. Wrapping your arms around the teen's neck, you pressed small kisses across his cheek and onto his lips. Resting your hands on either side of his face, you gave a watery smile.

"You've got to let me go." You whispered, eyes pleading. "A part of you has always known you couldn't hang onto this forever."

Brows creased in pain, Peter knew he had no other choice. Hugging you in a death-like grip, the teen felt tears form once more. Refusing to let them fall, he sniffed and pressed a kiss to your temple. The pair of you parted reluctantly, your form moving to stand beside the bed. Tentatively, you turned towards the door and away from the teen's line of sight.

Filled with anger, Peter grit his teeth and formed fists with his hands.

It was so unfair.

After everything he had done, avenging, saving lives, how did he deserve this? How did you, barely seventeen and unflinching in the face of an enemy far stronger than yourself, deserve to die? How did you deserve to less being beaten senseless and into a pulp, only to be stabbed, bleeding out on an abandoned street?

"Why do I deserve to live?" Peter breathed, still facing the other direction. "You sacrificed yourself to save me, and I couldn't even get up to help you."

A moment passed, and Peter looked around the room to find that you had vanished. A cold enveloped the room, and the teen found himself pulling the blanket closer to make up for the lost warmth of where you once lay.

"I would never take that moment back. I would die for you again and again without hesitation, Peter Parker."

And with that, he began to feel the creep of fatigue on his eyes, sleeping at last.