Everything was fine. It was far from good but they all knew it could have been worse. Peter didn't wake, Natasha and Clint had separate rotations worked out so someone would be guarding him at all times. As far as the world knew, Spider-Man had disappeared again and would return eventually.

The teenager didn't realise it but he'd saved the life of an Avenger which meant six of the most powerful people on the planet had made it their mission to keep him alive so he was probably as safe as he possibly could be.

And for two months this system continued. Natasha guarding the teenager who saved her life by pacing around the room, never venturing too far from the vulnerable hero, waiting patiently for him to wake up.

Clint guarded him from the vents whenever Natasha had to leave his side, always right next to the grate with his bow loaded just in case as he watched over the teenager who'd saved Natasha even though he never should have been forced to make the sacrifice play.

When the assassins were out on missions or one of them for whatever reason could not act as an effective guard, Steve and Tony took up their roles.

Tony always stood in his suit right next to the door, still as a statue. Sometimes he worked on models and blueprints through the heads up display but other times he would just stand in silence, thinking about all the decisions he could have made differently, all the tiny things he could have done that would have prevented the situation entirely.

Then there was Steve…Well he was the good soldier. He stood, unmoving at the foot of the hospital bed while his eyes stayed fixed on the door and Bruce came down every day to check the machines and IV were working as they should.

And somehow in those two months of everything running smoothly, Natasha managed to convince herself that everything was fine.

She didn't say a word, didn't let her mask crack and show emotion…but as she watched the coffin slowly descend into the ground she cursed herself a thousand times.

For letting herself care, for letting emotion take hold.

For not somehow saving his life.

It was a small ceremony, just all six of Earth's Mightiest Heroes standing around a grave while Thor quietly uttered an Asgardian prayer. They considered getting a minister but when they looked up his family's arrangements they found none were of any particular religion so they decided to just keep it simple.

They planned to reveal that Spider-Man was in fact dead and Tony was going to make arrangements to put in a grave. But this funeral wasn't for Spider-Man, it was for Peter Parker. The good kid who somehow lost it all. The dandelion that had somehow found itself in a warzone.

The assassin didn't really believe in an afterlife, she didn't know if the vigilante had when he was alive but a part of her hoped there was. For his sake.

I hope you don't have to suffer anymore, Peter. Wherever you are.

I hope you guys all enjoyed, sorry the ending is kinda short but I wound up rewriting it a bunch of times before deciding that simpler is better.