Spider-Son One Shots

Your Fault

The man stood in front of the grave, the wind blowing threw the grass. The sky was gray, almost black, with dark clouds, but rain hadn't arrived just yet. New York was blasting it's sounds behind the man, but it was quieter thanks to the time of night. The man just stood in dark cloths, blacks and grays, while using his umbrella as a cane until the rain did arrive.

Carved into the grave was a name that would haunt the man forever, because that name just wouldn't go away. People were mourning the boy that was now gone, and the man hated it more than he cared to admit. The name was Peter Parker.

"I can't believe I'm here, I can't believe you left me," The man stared, clutching his umbrella tighter as his anger swelled in him. "You promised me every morning that you would give up on being a hero, and look where you are now.

"They still ask about you, where you are, what happened. And I can't bring myself to tell them, because I cared about you, more than they ever will," The man said, his anger subsiding into a sadness, a deep regret that came from pain.

"Why did you have to break your promise? That's the entire reason you got kidnapped by HYDRA, because you were a hero. And they killed you after they got what they wanted, because you couldn't fight back," The man said, trying to stay composed. "But I am, I'm fighting them with all I've got because that's who I am.

"Other heroes have risen in your place. They claim they aren't trying to replace you, but that's exactly what's happening. And I don't blame them, nobody wants to take the mantle of Spider-Man to scare them all away," The man sighed, looking out at the cars as they passed by, like creatures scampering through darkness with glowing eyes.

"If only you had survived, if only they had been able to rescue you," The man sighed again, a tear slipping across his cheek. The man wiped it away, holing it on his fingertip to stare at it. How many nights he had cried himself to sleep over the stupid death of Peter, how many mornings he had asked why he was even getting up.

"Hey! Who are you!?" Someone yelled, running into the graveyard at the man and Peter's grave. The man was none other than Clint Barton, with most of the other Avengers behind him at different paces. They hadn't recognized him, meaning that he needed to get away.

The man jumped over the grave, running across the other graves before coming to the main road. The man knew he could jump onto the fence and climb up it easily, but would the people catch up to him? Would he have enough time?

The man found out when he jumped onto the fence, scrambling to get a good grip to climb up. But that Clint character had grabbed onto his shirt, jerking him off onto the ground. They wrestled for awhile before Clint was above the man, the man's hood falling off his face.

"Peter?"