ENGAME SPOILERS YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

"I am not sure what to say," Peter spoke with tears in his eyes. "I mean, what can you say about a man who sacrificed everything?" The teen looked around at the crowd. He wasn't sure how he got up here, his legs were shaking so much. He didn't think he could continue, but knew he had to. After a shaky breath, he continued. "Most of you have no idea who I am. Let me clarify. My name is Peter Parker, and I was taken in as Tony Stark's personal intern 8 years ago.

"He found me via a grant that didn't really exist, and used me only when absolutely necessary for highly classified projects. For a while, that's the way things remained. I was told my many different people that I was just a tool in some big plan, but I refused to believe that. After all, Tony Stark chose me, a nobody from Queens. That has to mean something. Right?

"I guess my question was answered a few months after getting personally attacked by some maniac and I actually started doing intern work. It was great. I got to spend time with one of, if not the, smartest man alive, and he helped me. Whether it was from helping me to rewire a computer to work collectively with dozen robots, some located in a different country, to learning which chemicals go boom, he was there and taught me.

"I wasn't very public about my position, since most everything I did was classified and I

didn't want to get assaulted in my house again. No one at my school believed I actually interned with the Tony Stark after my best friend dropped the news, but can you blame them? Who would believe a scrawny teen like myself was given an internship by superhero, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist Tony Stark? I sure wouldn't.

"I keep saying The Tony Stark a lot. That reminds me of a conversation we had once. It was a cold day, and Pepper had just brought us hot chocolate and everything was great. He then began asking me about school, like he normally does, and since everything seemed to be happy and great, I didn't filter out the bullying stuff like I usually did.

"This didn't go unnoticed by him, and he immediately dove deeper into the subject demanding that I, 'tell me why kids are bullying you or so help me I will go down to that school and threaten him both financially and physically. Do I make myself clear?'

"I was all like. 'Of course Mr. Stark.' and then I told him how no one believed me and he seemed taken back.

"He said something like, 'You are the most honest kid I know and can't lie if your life depended on it. Why don't they believe you?'

"'I mean,' I began, 'you are the Tony Stark. Who in their right mind would think you'd personally pick me to intern for you?'

"At this point he stopped what he was doing and turned to me. I felt obliged to stop fiddling with small machine in front of me and turned to him. Mr. Stark wasn't wearing any glasses, but if he were he would have slowly taken them off. I could never forget what he said to me."

Peter paused and looked out at the crowd. Hundreds of thousands of people were packed into this courtyard, and those who didn't fit were still standing in the crowd, watching the ceremony on their phones or laptops. "He said, 'I may be Tony Stark, but you are Peter Parker. You are some kid from Queens. You are a small bacteria in the ocean of the world. But you managed to wiggled into my heart. You know me not as the Tony Stark, but just Tony Stark. You hear me?'

"I nodded, not sure how to react. I mean, how do you react when the Tony Stark, says something like that. I'm not sure, but I know how I'd react if Tony Stark said something like that. I'd go home and cry into my Aunt's arms. She thought something was wrong, but the I was experiencing the opposite. Something in me felt terribly right. I hadn't felt this right since before my Uncle died years ago.

"When I saw Mr. Stark die a month ago, all that rightness that had filled my heart evaporated. It all came rushing out of me, but not right away. At first it was this numb feeling, like he wasn't really gone. The effect really came later when I was back in my Aunt's arms. She was sobbing and so was I. We just weren't crying for the same reason.

"I know, when you right speeches for funerals, you don't name them, but I did. This is called, 'The Tony Stark Was Never Right', because the only way you could truly get to know this man was if he was just simply, Tony Stark."
I stopped and wiped tears from my face, and soon an applause ran out through the crowd. As I stepped down from the podium, I hugged my Aunt and just sobbed into her chest, before recovering, turning around, and leaving.

;n;

You'd think that after three deaths in the span of Peter's short life time, he would be able to cope. Or you would think this was the last straw that would break him into pieces. But neither happened. Peter went into a daze. He began a kind of life where he felt like someone else was controlling him. It was as if Peter was just a character in a video game, and someone else had their hands on the controls.

The teen would just walk for hours on end, wandering through the streets of New York City. Some people would stop him, asking if he was alright. He'd smile, and then have his feet carried away again, the player getting bored of the NPC and moving on. It seemed everyone was happy, they had their loved ones back and that's all that mattered. Peter had trouble relishing in his friends and what was left of his family. He wanted to embrace his Aunt like he hadn't seen her in five years the way she squeezed him, but he couldn't. The person with the controller just wasn't as invested in this game.

The only time Peter truly felt the haze clear was when he had his mask on and was swinging. Maybe it was the last bit of Peter truly alive, alive in this vigilante where he could pretend everything was alright. Maybe it was the player, the reason they bought the crappy game that is Peter's life, who only wanted to swing through the streets.

He went to school, and instead of being bored, was just sitting there, staring off into the distance. No one got mad at him. No one had the guts to tell the kid who lost everything to learn something he already knew.

His life continued this way for a few months, before getting swept off his feet by the few remaining Avengers and pushed into training. The intense brawling with Clint Barton and mental strength training with Wanda helped the fog on his brain lift a bit. The familial talks and movies he hadn't experienced in such large numbers was overwhelming at first, but helped his eyes refocus.

Soon he spent all his time improving himself, whether academically, physically, or emotionally. He created a strict schedule that he followed every week. Most days were the same. He'd wake up at four, eat, then head out for patrol. He would be back at the tower (his new home along with May's and sometimes Morgan's) at six, just enough time to shower, change, pack his bag for school and catch the subway. He'd get to school, meet up with Ned, spend all of his free time reviewing formulas Dr. Banner would quiz him on that night or figuring out how to fix different problems employees were having.

Pepper was Peter's Obadiah Stane and Pepper was her Tony, though not in a weird way. If any of you OG fans remember the small slideshow at the very beginning of the first ever MCU movie, you'd remember how Obadiah took over Stark Industries until Tony was old enough to run it himself. Though Pepper had already run a majority of the company, Peter figured he would take the burden off her shoulders when he became old enough, so he decided to start small. He would help Pepper with basic paperwork, and learned the ways she wrapped people around her finger. He never realized how dirty Stark Industries could get.

Back on track Ele. So after school he would head out for patrol, the hours being one of the only varying things in his schedule therefore eliminating any potential villains learning his schedule and sneaking around his back when he wasn't out patrolling. After that, he would get a sandwich from Delmar's (the teenage superhero had begun swinging in as Spiderman, helping bring in more customers when the business started to struggle) and eat it either with Murphy the cat or with MJ. They'd begun hanging out more, whether it was walks, studying, or just Peter swinging by with lunch. MJ refused to let Peter skip a meal, no matter what the numbers said.

Peter stopped eating dinner after doing research and realizing that him not eating the extra meal would help him "focus" and "get fit quicker". Once MJ realized this she slyly encouraged him to eat, but full on demanded she see him eat every meal after he stopped eating lunch. Peter was frustrated at first, but soon began to enjoy the conversations that would sprout.

After his early dinner, Peter would check the city one last time before swinging back to the tower where Clint would wait and help the teen train. Soon, Peter had a basic knowledge in almost every weapon imaginable, that including the mace. Peter's personal favorite was the Saber-axe.

After two hours of personal training, he practiced by himself for a thirty minutes before heading up to the labs with Bruce. During that time he finished any homework he hadn't finished over the weekend (Peter got the weeks homework in advance thanks to his teachers pitying him), before going to Pepper's office near the bottom of the tower.

She had anxiety about not hearing noise ever since Tony's death, and moved her office from the very top to almost the very bottom, surrounded by the ever working noise of workers in the tower.

There Peter would talk with Pepper, do any more homework, and learn a thing or two about how to run the business. She even had him start attending press conferences, where he would sit in the corner and take notes.

When an hour or so had passed, he would take an elevator back up to Bruce's lab, unless it was a Monday. Then they would have movie night.

Peter spent his life like this, constantly keeping himself busy with little time to think. Sometimes, he let everything catch up to him, but he had his new family to help him. It was a different life from the one he knew, less filled with people, but he soon coped, just like those around him.

The player had put down the controller one final time, and finally let Peter be Peter. No more dawning the mask when he didn't want to, or stopping to talk to random people who all pitied him. He was freed from those chains.

He was free to forget.