It was chaotic - but when wasn't Peter's life complete and utter chaos?
He was giving it everything he had, everything inside of him. It was lucky that Mr. Stark gave him a brand new suit. His webshooters never took a break. He followed Peter Quill most of the time, offering extra help to Gamora, who, after the death of her sister, became almost reckless in shock and anger.
Falcon soared above Peter. He was probably worried about the kid in the middle of a war zone. But Peter was fine (he kept reminding himself of that, at least).
He was fine.
He thought of you. You, somewhere at home, hiding in your bedroom or basement, staying safe. You, with the strands of soft hair he wanted to tuck behind your ear. You, with the graphic t-shirts he loved to see in the mornings. You, with the smile that grew wider every time you saw him and the endless Star Wars knowledge and the jokes and the kindness and-
He thought of you, of everything he loved, of everything that made him want to fight.
"Kid!" Mr. Stark yelled. "Watch out!"
Peter turned around and ducked at the same time a chunk of debris soared over his head. He looked around, hearing Thanos chuckle as he walked near Mr. Stark.
"Pathetic," he said, shaking his head.
Peter nearly groaned. Pathetic? They were giving it everything they had!
He reached for Mr. Stark.
"A pathetic man," he said again.
Peter didn't think, didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, webs shooting, knowing that he just had to protect Mr. Stark, and Thanos didn't even hesitate.
He turned, ready. One giant hand reached out and grabbed him around the neck. It tightened into a fist quickly, locking him into place. He faintly heard Mr. Stark and Peter Quill scream over the sound of his gag. Hulk roared. His hands flew to his neck and grasped the wrist tight.
"Kid!" Steve said. Most people on the team had a soft spot for Peter, the youngest on the team, but Steve really did. They were both just kids from New York, and Peter was fairly new at this.
But Peter didn't give up. He struggled against the hand holding him by the neck even when he knew it was useless.
Thanks titled his head and squinted his eyes, observing Peter. Peter kicked out his legs, feeling sick under the evil, horrifying gaze. "You're just a kid," Thanos said thoughtfully, then he snorted. "Just a stupid kid."
He was right. Peter was thinking, eyes wide beneath the mask, that all he wanted was Aunt May. He wanted to be eight years old again and sit on her lap and feel her motherly hands in his hair, brushing through his curls while they watched cartoons before bed.
He wanted you, safe in his arms, leaning against him, whispering that you loved him. He wanted you in a world that was safe and in a place that you could never be harmed. If there was one place you were absolutely safe, it was in his arms. He would never let anything hurt you.
And that was what made him a hero.
"I am not," he coughed, gasping and sputtering, "a stupid kid." He whimpered though, the pain nearly overtaking him, and Thanos laughed. "I'm Spider-Man!" He turned his hand and shot a web grenade at Thanos's face.
Thanos flinched, but it didn't really phase him. He growled at Peter and lifted him higher. Peter called out in pain and thought of you-
And how sad you would be when he died.
But you expected it, right? You should expect it. He told you. He told you.
He said goodbye.
"Don't say that," you had said.
You had sounded more broken than ever before. That moment shattered his already broken heart.
"Don't say that to me, Peter Parker. You're strong, I know it. You'll get out of this alive, and you'll be able to tell me every heroic thing you did, and I can tell you what I was going to tell you at the bus, which was that - that I love you, and I am in lo-"
He was really struggling now. He was struggling-
"I love you, and I am in lo-"
He needed to breathe!
Thanos lifted him, jumped off of the ground, and then landed hard, driving Peter's body into the ground. His arms sprawled out around him, his body jolting in shock.
His mind was racing. Is my back broken oh it hurts did my spine crack am I paralyzed please God don't let me be paralyzed ___ needs me she needs me come on Peter come on Spider-Man-
You loved him, and he said he was going to leave you.
He couldn't.
He screamed. It was probably silent, but in his mind, it was deafening. He couldn't breathe. But he screamed, and he thrashed, and his lungs burned and burned, and he fought.
He fought for you.
You were all he had left to hang onto right now.
He wasn't sure what happened (although he was pretty positive he hadn't just beat death and saved himself in his weak state), but suddenly the weight on his neck was gone and his lungs were catching up, his blood pumping again and air gulping down through his mouth and down his sore, throbbing throat. He cried out in pain and rolled over on his side, eyesight blurry. His cheek pressed into the hot ground and saliva dribbled out of his lips.
He saw Hulk, Mr. Stark, and T'Challa throwing themselves towards Thanos. Just before his eyes closed, he saw Thor falling towards them, a roar of anger shaking the ground, strikes of lightning smacking into the ground. Hawkeye was right behind him, and Natasha, too. Groot and Rocket. Wanda. Stephen. Everyone. His team.
And then he was out.